snovaness

[snovaness]

the matchmatic 3000 | jake sim

✰ summary: simp, i mean, sim jaeyun is a hopeless romantic. a cursed hopeless romantic, he would say, doomed to exist as just your friend, nothing more. but when his genius (read: nerdy) best friend creates a highly accurate matchmaking app for the university, jake is ready to bribe, beg, and possibly sell his soul to make sure he gets paired with you. plan a? hack the system. plan b? there is no plan b. to jake, being delulu is the solulu, and he's all in.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. bestfriends!jay & heeseung]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | college!au, matchmaking!au, friendstolovers!au, pining, pining, pining heh

✰ contains: honestly, just crack. i had too much fun with the humor in this one i think, whoops! lots of awkward tension, slow burn, pining, more pining, cute kithes (~￣³￣)~, reader is oblivious beyond saving, but no actual warnings other than maybe one or two cuss words i think!

✰ wc: ...19k (i swear this wasn't intentional...once again, i had too much fun) 

✰ a/n: it's finally done! i'm nervvy because i haven't posted a fic in almost three years now,,,but i randomly got inspo one day after seeing a tiktok about a matchmaking questionnare and now here we are! i loved writing these characters, it was so much fun,,,but i also don't know how to feel abt the whole thing so i hope people enjoy this !! :’)) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

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Simply put, Jake Sim is a simp. His name should honestly be legally changed from Sim Jae-yun to Simp Jae-yun at this point. 

Jake doesn’t fall often, but when he does, he hits the ground with the force of a malfunctioning rocket ship. Once in the third grade, a girl gave him a Hello Kitty bandage after he face-planted off the playground swings. Cute, right? Well, Jake was so smitten, he spent the next week sliding his prized dino chicken nuggets across the lunch table like they were some ancient currency to win her over.  

Did it work? Sort of. Did she eat all his nuggets without ever looking back? Absolutely.  

But this? With you? This is different.  

Jake would give up more than just his room-temp mystery-meat pterodactyls for you. He thinks he’d willingly cat-sit twelve cats—despite his strong dislike for cats. He thinks he’d voluntarily train for the national triathlon—despite always getting winded walking up the two flights of stairs to get to his apartment. He’d probably let you have the last Supreme pizza slice, which for Jake, is basically like offering you his soul on a silver platter. 

Forget falling—Jake didn’t just trip, no. He plummeted into a cartoon-style pit, the kind covered with leaves spread over the top like some dollar-store disguise. He’s still down there, metaphorically flailing around like a maniac while you’re chilling up above, completely unaware that you Tom & Jerry-ed his heart. 

In hindsight, Jake hopelessly pining for you was about as inevitable as a rom-com misunderstanding. The second his childhood best friend Grace—aka your college best friend and roommate—introduced you guys during freshman year orientation, Jake was hit with the biggest, dumbest case of whiplash known to mankind. 

You were so confident, so outgoing, so unapologetically you. You were like sunshine, and Jake was just there, squinting and hoping he wouldn't spontaneously combust into a thousand ashes from simply staring at you. 

But, as with all classic tropes (and pining fanfics), Jake knows that mixing friend groups and love interests is a recipe for disaster. And not just any disaster—a culinary trainwreck. Worse than whatever recipe the dining hall uses to make their sad excuse for tacos. Like, is it beef? Is it tofu? Who knows, and honestly, I don't think anyone wants to know.  

Anyways, that brings us to today: a couple years later, with Jake still mooning over his friend. His feelings remain the best-kept secret in the history of best-kept secrets—well, if secrets were meant to be as obvious as a neon sign in a blackout. 

In fact, Jake’s attempts at subtlety are about as smooth as a drunk giraffe on roller skates. Whenever you walk into the room, it’s like someone hits the ‘shutdown’ button on his brain. One second, he’s cracking jokes and holding conversations just fine, the next? Boom. Total system failure. You can almost hear the Windows XP error sound the moment you catch him off guard with a smile.

It’s not that Jake can’t talk to you—he’s your friend, after all. But the second he catches your sweet laugh or smile and his feelings come rolling in and the butterflies come out? Well, that’s when words start slipping through his fingers like sand, and his once confident banter turns into a cautious game of verbal Jenga. 

His brilliant solution?

Simple: stick to safe topics and keep it light. Foolproof, right? Well, if your idea of foolproof includes missed opportunities and enough internal cringe to fuel a thousand regret-filled 3am thoughts.

Luckily for him, you’ve gone all these years mistaking his massive, raging, hormonal crush on you as part of his ‘friendly, sweet, soft-spoken boy’ personality. And Jake? He’ll take that over an awkward-confession-which-may-lead-to-a-crash-and-burn-outcome any day. 

Honestly, who wouldn’t? Jake thinks as he glances at you from across the lunch table, currently laughing at one of Jay’s terrible puns. Yep, being friends with you is totally fine… totally fine… totally fine.

Jake’s totally fine.

Jake is totally not one more bad-Jay-pun away from writing tragic love haikus in his Notes app and forming a backstory about his unrequited feelings.

As if right on cue, Jay cracks a banana-physics joke (because, obviously, Jay is an expert in theoretical physics despite never having taken a class), and while everyone else is laughing, Jake’s over here, contemplating the meaning of life:

Her laugh echoes bright, I’m lost, no GPS found, Help, I’m still simping.

Jake stares down at his phone, horrified. Did he seriously just… haiku his feelings? Help. Is this what rock-bottom looks like?

"Alright listen up you peasants," Heeseung clears his throat dramatically as he suddenly approaches the group's lunch table located outside on campus grounds, interrupting Jake's poetic inner melodrama. "Your savior has arrived."  

“This better be good, Hee. The last time you said that, you tried to convince us that you could drink five Red Bulls, pull an all-nighter, and still pass that chem exam,” you smirk questionably. 

Heeseung points at you. “And I did pass.” 

“You got a 61%,” Grace says, not even looking up from her phone. 

“That’s still passing!” Heeseung declares, full of confidence. “Anyway, this time is different. I’ve been working on something life-changing.” 

Jake shoots a glance in your direction before quickly looking away. He wants to say something witty, something that could make you laugh, but his brain is like, nah bro, not today. Instead, he nervously fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. Since when was there a hole there?

“Life-changing?” Jay leans back in his chair, arms crossed, wearing his usual smirk. “What, are you finally going to start that YouTube channel where you rank ramen brands?” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes as he takes a seat, “First of all, that channel is coming. But no, this is better. Way better. I’ve created…” 

He pauses for dramatic effect, looking at everyone and drumming his fingers against the table,“…a matchmaking algorithm.” 

You burst out laughing, breaking the silence of the table, “What? Like a dating app?” 

“Is this about to be Tinder, but, like, nerdy?” Grace raises an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. 

“Not quite. It’s a scientific, algorithm-based matching system, designed to pair people based on compatibility and mutual interests. And, lucky for you all, I’m testing it out on campus,” Heeseung grins, completely unbothered. 

Jake’s heart skips a beat. Matchmaking? His mind first immediately goes to you. And then, downright panic. What if this robot thing pairs you with someone else? Oh god, what if it pairs you with, like, Jay, and he has to watch you guys flirt non-stop while he sits in the corner like a sad, dying houseplant? (mental note: water your houseplants when you get back to your dorm, jake!)

“Didn’t you also say it was ‘scientific’ when you ate an entire pack of Mentos and then drank Coke?” Grace’s brows furrow at the boy.

Heeseung scoffs at her dramatically. “That was for science. This is for love.” 

You lean forward into the table, clearly interested.

“So you’re saying this app will scientifically find me a soulmate?” Your eyes light up and Jake’s heart skips a second beat as they happen to make eye contact with him as you say that. Please let that soulmate be me. Please. “What’s the catch? You’re not the type to just… help people find 'love' for free.” 

Heeseung shrugs, pretending to be modest, “Not true! I’m doing this purely out of the goodness of my heart.” 

Jay coughs, "Cap.” 

“Okay, fine,” Heeseung admits, “it’s for a coding competition. The winner gets a year’s worth of free ramen from that noodle place near the dorms.” 

Grace’s jaw drops. “You mean Noodle Nirvana? The one with the spicy miso?” 

“Precisely, the one with the spicy miso," Heeseung nods proudly. 

You let out a giggle, “So you’re telling me, you’ve created a love machine just so you can hoard ramen?” 

“Correction,” Heeseung says, raising a finger, “I’ve created a highly advanced matchmaking algorithm to bring people together and also hoard ramen.” 

“Good enough” you shrug, raising your iced coffee in a mock toast to your nerdy friend. “Sign me up.” 

Oh no. Jake's heart skips a third beat (someone get him an ambulance please). Oh god, you're most definitely going to get matched up with someone else. And if that happens, bye-bye to the 12 black cats he’s already mentally prepared to care for. Bye-bye triathlon training.  

But on the other hand...this could be Jake's golden opportunity—that is if somehow the universe decides to play nice and matches you with him. This could be his chance, his moment, his... immediate descent into chaos. 

"Can your app match me with that cute barista that works at the campus boba shop every Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 12pm to 5pm?" Jay's eyes sparkle with curiosity and excitement.  

Heeseung gives Jay a look that says he’s one step away from calling campus security. "First of all, that’s borderline stalker territory. Second, no. It doesn’t work that way."

"So..there's no way you can influence the results at all? It's purely the robot’s doing?" you cock your head at Heeseung. 

"Again, it's an algorithm! Not a robot," he then shrugs, "and I’m above bribery. Unless, of course, you’ve got a worthy offer."

"ooOoOh, corruption? Me likey," Jay’s eyebrows shoot up in mischief, "I'm in. Where do I sign up?" 

“Already done, my friends. Check your emails," Heeseung pulls out his phone and points at it.  

Jake’s phone buzzes at that moment, and when he opens it, the email is sitting at the top of his inbox. He’s never been more nervous to open an email in his life. Well, except maybe his college acceptance letter. Or his professor’s recent feedback on his History of Modern Warfare essay. 

You tap your screen and start reading the email out loud:

Subject: [IMPORTANT SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT]  Hello there awesome students & fellow single-tons, Have you ever looked around campus and thought, ‘Wow, everyone here is either taken, weird, or impossible to talk to?’ Well, I’m here to save you from the trenches of singleness with...*drumroll please*  THE MATCHMATIC 3000  — the university's very own matchmaking algorithm!  How does it work you ask? Simple.  1. Download the app from the link in this email (no, it's not a scam or a virus, I promise).   2. Enter your name and student ID (for verification purposes only – no catfishing allowed!)   3. Answer a bunch of super fun questions that might make you question your life choices but will definitely help MatchMatic 3000 find your perfect match!  Once you’re done, the app will work its algorithmic magic to pair you with someone who’s probably just as confused about life as you are but is at least willing to share similar pizza toppings with you. The results will be sent out after a few days of algorithmic wizardry! Why am I doing this, you ask? Because who doesn’t love a good matchmaking fiasco? It’s like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, except instead of pasta, it’s your love life. And hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have some hilarious stories to tell your future therapist!  (Please don't bill me for your therapy bill. I'm broke.) It’s scientifically programmed, which means it’s flawless. Trust me, I’m very smart. Sign up now, and may your love life finally flourish. If it doesn’t, well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Questions will be released tomorrow, so sign up today before you catch a serious case of FOMO when all the cool kids start using the app ;) Sincerely, your friendly Campus Cupid,   Lee Heeseung <3  *Disclaimer: The university, nor I, takes no responsibility for any romantic entanglements, awkward encounters, or sudden realizations that you might be better off single. Please use the MatchMatic 3000 responsibly.* 

You look up, trying to hold in your laughter, “Heeseung, what the hell is this?” 

Everyone around the table bursts into muffled giggles as they take in the sight of a 240fps gif of Heeseung’s head superimposed onto a sparkly cupid’s body, dramatically shooting an arrow into the abyss of their screens.

"It's called marketing, Y/N. You wouldn't understand,” Heeseung says unbothered. 

“You really called yourself campus cupid,” Grace manages to get out, laughing so hard she’s practically wheezing.

“I said what I said,” Heeseung replies, puffing out his chest like a self-proclaimed genius. “And it’s true. I am your cupid. My algorithm is perfect. You guys are just haters. Just wait until I go viral and become rich and famous. Jake, you support me, right?"

Jake, who hasn’t uttered a peep in maybe a century, suddenly finds himself put on the spot. Oh no, I’ve been radio silent. They probably think I’m plotting my grand escape or something.

You turn towards Jake, waiting for his response and with a smile on your face, which is enough to send him into a decade long coma he thinks. 

“Uh... yeah, for sure. Whatever it takes for that ramen, right?” he blurts out, awkwardly throwing in a finger gun for good measure.

Nailed it.

"Jakey here is too sweet to disagree with you, Hee, “ you look up at him, flashing him a soft, teasing smile. 

And that’s it. Jake’s soul exits stage left. 

He nearly chokes on his own saliva at the casual way you let the pet name roll off your tongue. It’s as if you’ve just handed him a ticket to a new dimension where 'Jakey' is a thing and he’s suddenly the happiest (and only) person on the planet.

Jakey, you called him Jakey. His mind takes an ad-break as he tries to recover. Is this…flirting? Is this how normal people flirt? Or are you just trying to send him into cardiac arrest for fun?

Either way, Jake’s officially malfunctioning. He deduces you’re just being your typical, outgoing self—completely oblivious to the heart palpitations your simple actions send to Jake’s heart. How can someone be so effortlessly charming yet unaware of the chaotic consequences? 

“Y-Yeah, totally, sorry man,” he croaks out, praying to all higher powers above that this brief interaction is over. Heeseung's love machine may be flawless, but Jake? He’s barely functional.

Jake stares at the floor, trying to process this entire ordeal, as the rest of the table returns to their everyday conversation. This is happening. This is real. He needs to find a way to get matched with you, or else he can kiss Salt and Pepper (two of the twelve cats he’s already mentally named and is now emotionally invested in) goodbye. He glances over at you, who’s already—bless your curiosity—downloading the app. 

Jake gulps. He’s doomed. 

Today's the day. Jake’s internal doomsday. 

Also known as, MatchMatic-3000-launches-it's-questions-day. 

To the group's surprise, Heeseung’s love machine has gone viral across campus—it’s been the buzz of the school since his mass email blast 24 hours ago. 

“Alright gang, let’s see if this app is as magical as Heeseung’s ego claims!” you declare, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you join everyone at the usual lunch table outside.

Jake, sitting beside you, is staring at his phone like it holds the secrets of the universe. 

“I’m just hoping it matches me with someone who understands the sacred bond between a man and his video game console,” he mutters, sneakily glancing at your screen to see if you’re answering questions about your favorite video games. Because obviously, that’s the secret to his heart. 

You’re too engrossed in the questions on your phone to notice his subtle mission.

“Even better,” you say without looking up, “I hope it matches me with someone who’ll actually play video games with me.”

Then, you look up and throw him a quick wink. Casual. Effortless. But to Jake? It’s like being a victim of a hit and run to the heart. 

He’s definitely as red as his Asian Flush after two shots of soju. Maybe three.

Jay suddenly chimes in, “What if the app pairs us with people who have weird hobbies? Like, what if I get matched with someone who collects miniature spoons or lives in a house made entirely of cheese?” 

Grace snickers at the overly dramatic boy. “Jay, I think you’d thrive in a cheese house. You’ve already mastered the art of cheesy puns.”

Jake, still staring at his phone, suddenly gets an epiphany, “Wait, do you think it can match you with someone who’s just as obsessed with obscure internet memes as I am?”

You let out a giggle towards his direction, amused by his question, which makes Jake realize that he said that out loud. Well, if he made you laugh, that's a win in his book.

Heeseung, noticing Jake’s moment of glory, nods. 

“Oh, definitely. You might end up with someone who can appreciate a well-timed ‘Doge’ meme or has a shrine dedicated to Rickrolling."

“These questions are so random! A black cat or a golden retriever? What does that even mean?” you exclaim suddenly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“Excuse me, it’s all about the science of psychology, Y/N—” Heeseung stabs his fork into his pasta with an almost theatrical flair, “—the algorithm needs to understand your deepest preferences. It’s not about cats or dogs; it’s about what your choices say about your soul.”

Jay, munching on his questionable-looking dining hall taco, grins. “So, basically, the app’s trying to figure out if we’re more ‘moody cat person’ or ‘happy-go-lucky dog lover.’ Got it.”

Jake’s thumb hovers nervously over his screen as he reaches the same question himself. His eyes dart back to your screen but can’t seem to make out what you’ve selected. You’re biting your lip in concentration, and Jake’s brain glitches for a second because, wow, how can someone look so cute answering stupid personality questions?

Heeseung notices Jake’s expression from across the table and leans back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “Jake, you look like you’re solving world hunger over there. What’s the deal? Just pick whatever, man.” 

“I’m—I’m just being thorough, okay? This app’s gonna decide my entire love life. No pressure or anything,” Jake shifts uncomfortably, his face heating up.  

Jay snorts, stuffing yet another taco in his mouth, "Jake’s acting like the app’s about to determine the rest of his life. Just chill, man. You’ll get paired with someone. Even if it’s someone who only eats purple foods or, I don’t know, makes miniatures of their exes.” 

"Y/N's definitely getting paired with someone awesome," Grace teases, nudging you playfully from your other side. "Someone tall, athletic, probably knows how to cook gourmet meals."  

Jake internally winces at the description. Tall? He's definitely 6 feet...on a good day...with the right shoes. Athletic? Jake plays soccer! Well..played. In, like, middle school. Gourmet meals? He considers dino nuggets a gourmet meal so...he's practically a Michelin-star chef.  

You laugh at Grace's comment, shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm just hoping for someone who doesn't ghost me after three texts. Low bar, I know."  

Jake swallows besides you. Three texts. Got it. Don't ghost her, even if you do forget what words are in her presence.  

Suddenly, you look up from your phone and turn to lock eyes with Jake. "What did you put Jake? Black cat or golden retriever?"  

Jake freezes. Oh no, is this a test? This is definitely a test. He panics for a split second while his brain scrambles for the lobe that contains actual, cohesive, vocabulary.

"Uh, golden retriever. Definitely," he blurts out, voice higher than usual. "Golden retrievers are...loyal. And fun. Kinda like...you?" The last part slips out before he can stop himself.  

The table goes silent. Jay chokes on his suspicious taco. Grace's eyebrows shoot up in amusement. Heeseung stares at Jake like he's watching the most entertaining drama unfold right in front of him. 

You blink at Jake, then follow it with a soft giggle. "You're comparing me to a dog now?"  

Jake goes bright red, stammering as he's viciously shaking his head, "No—I mean—not like that! I just meant—"  

But you're still laughing next to him, he can feel your shoulders happily shaking against his, and while he's completely mortified, he can't help but feel the tiniest flicker of hope. At least you're laughing with him, not at him. Right? Right?  

"Did anyone consider the fact that we might get matched up with one another?" Jay changes the topic as he wipes the remaining taco shell crumbs off his mouth.

Jake notices the look of pure horror plastered on both you and Grace's faces.  

"Ew," you pretend to gag, while Grace laughs next to you. "Hard pass. You've got the same level of commitment as a first grader has with finishing their homework, and Heeseung’s definitely gonna end up marrying a computer. Plankton and Karen style. I think I'd rather date a Roomba. And you know I hate Roombas."  

Jake can't help the smile tugging at his lips. He knows you're joking, but hearing you rule out the other two makes him feel just a little better. But then...wait.  

You didn't say anything about Jake. What if you’ve already ruled Jake out, too? Not even a contender against Jay and Heeseung? The panic sets in as he thinks oh god, maybe she sees me like an actual Roomba—just following her around, waiting for crumbs of affection. 

Heeseung feigns hurt by dramatically clutching his heart. "Oh no. I'm so heartbroken," he deadpans.  

"I'd date you, Hee, don't worry," Jay winks, and without missing a beat, Heeseung blows him an exaggerated air kiss. "Thanks, babe." 

Jake, still lost in his thoughts, wonders if he’s been friend-zoned so hard he’s transcended into actual appliance territory, right next to the Roombas.

Everyone's laughing over Heeseung and Jay's antics, while Jake here is spiraling into a full-on existential crisis over accepting his fate as the Roomba of your heart. 

Is this my life now? I'm a...self-cleaning vacuum?

Jake comes to a realization the next morning: he can’t just settle for being the human equivalent of a non-sentient vacuum in your life. He needs to take action—and he needs to do it fast. Especially before the algorithm matches you with some 6-foot-tall, athletic, five-star chef who probably wakes up with flawless skin and has a perfectly curated Spotify playlist.  

Jake’s brain scrambles for ideas, as he stares hopelessly at the blank essay document on his laptop titled: "History of Modern Warfare (with revisions)" His essay can wait. World War II may have been a big deal, but this? This is you. Only the most important thing to walk this earth (in Jake's eyes, at least).  

What would a normal human being do? Grow a pair, march right up to you, and say something charming (probably, Jake wouldn't know). But Jake? Jake knows there’s a higher chance of him learning to speak fluent French in the next 24 hours than actually telling you how he feels.

Because that would require practice—in front of a mirror, at least five times a day, for three days straight. And by then, the matches will already be out, and you'll be swept off your feet by some handsome demigod in human form.  

Jake sighs as he tries to type at least one sentence of his essay, hoping it will distract him from his lingering thoughts of you. Your smile, your laughter, your wink, your voice saying ‘Jakey’... 

“The Battle of Normandy marked a significant turning point…” 

Jake frowns. Turning point. Oh, great. That’s exactly what Jake’s waiting for—a turning point with you. Except his 'battle plan' is to let Heeseung’s love algorithm do the work for him. Yeah, sure. Because nothing says romantic courage like leaving your fate up to a glorified love machine. 

Jake groans at the screen. He tries to type more, but his brain is already spiraling into worst-case scenarios. What if you get matched with someone who can bench-press a refrigerator? Or worse—someone who actually knows how to emotionally open up to you?

Frustrated, Jake slams his laptop shut, earning dirty glares from the students studying quietly around him in the library. His essay is long forgotten at this point. Who cares about The Battle of Normandy when his entire (nonexistent) love life is crumbling right in front of him?  

He pulls at his hair in sheer desperation, searching for answers, any answers, to this disaster. Think, Jake, think! 

Wait. 

That's it.  

Answers. He needs answers! Not the kind that would magically fix his social dysfunction around you. No, not those—that’s way beyond saving.

But your answers. The ones you put into The Matchmatic 3000. If Jake could somehow get a hold of those, he could match his responses to yours perfectly. Then BAM! Instant match. One foot in the door. Then maybe, just maybe, you'd stop seeing him as some automated dust-sucker. 

A smile forms across Jake's face. Pure genius (self-proclaimed, of course).  

Yes, this is the solution to all his problems. Well, except for the crippling anxiety and social awkwardness part. But one thing at a time, right? 

Now he just needs your answers.  

And possibly a therapist.  

“Jake! What's wrong?" Grace appears at Jake's table tucked away in the back of the library, her hair frazzled and disheveled from her sprint across campus as a result of Jake's ‘SOS’ text.

Jake is sitting at the table, hands folded, looking perfectly intact, totally not at all in an ‘SOS’ situation, and has a small smile on his face as he looks up at his best friend. 

“I figured it out!”

"You better tell me you just figured out time travel or the cure for world hunger, because I just full-on sprinted across campus thinking you got your laptop stolen or, heaven forbid, you got your hand trapped in the printer again,” Grace's eyes narrow as she takes a seat across from him. 

"I told you not to mention that again! It was an honest mistake," Jake's eyes widen, afraid people around them heard about Jake's embarrassingly tragic battle with the library’s printer. "But no, it's even better than that. It's kinda...off the books though."

Grace blinks back at him. "How off the books? Like...'help me hide the body' off the books, or 'expose the secret recipe to the dining hall's mysterious tacos' off the books?”

Jake glances around to make sure no one's eavesdropping, then lowers his voice, "More like...'help me get Y/N's answers to the Matchmatic 3000' off the books?"

There's a beat of silence as Grace struggles to process the absurdity of what she just heard.  

“Wait, hold up. You want me to help you cheat the dating app?”

Jake nods fervently, if not a little desperately. 

"It's not cheating! Call it...strategic alignment. I need to make sure I match with her. That's the only way I could ever get a chance, and you're the only one who can help me!"

Grace leans in from across the table, clearly in disbelief, yet amused, "So let me get this straight...you want me to somehow get her answers, so you can change yours to match hers, in hopes that Hee's magical AI or whatever pairs you two together?"

Jake attempts to give her his best 'please help me' puppy eyes, but it's clear he's more of a lost kitten right now.

"And you're asking me to get my hands dirty...why exactly?" She smirks at the fidgety Jake, finding his over-the-top desperation for you both amusing and oddly endearing.

"Uh..because you're my best friend, duh. And also, you're the closest to her—if Jay and Hee found out, they'd never let me live it down! And Jay would probably make a TikTok about it just to watch me die from embarrassment," Jake rambles, hoping he can convince the seemingly unimpressed girl in front of him.

“Uh-huh," Grace raises an eyebrow. "And what’s in it for me? Sure, I'm your best friend, but I'm also her friend and ever-so-loyal roommate. You're asking for a lot here, bud."

Jake looks flustered for a moment, as if he hadn’t really thought about that part. 

“Uh, well, I could—um—maybe buy you coffee for a week? Or, I don’t know, do your physics thesis project you've been avoiding."

Grace pretends to consider his offer for a second, but the second he mentions the ‘physics thesis project’, her decision is instantly made.

"Fine," she sighs, leaning back in her chair. "But just so you know, if this goes sideways, I was never here."

Jake smiles like he just won the lottery. Salt & Pepper, here I come!

"But also…," Grace begins, looking right at Jake, making him squirm. Not in a cute Y/N-noticed-me type of squirm, but the oh-no-I'm-about-to-get-lectured kind. "Take my advice, Jake. Stop being a wuss."

Jake's grin falters at his friend's sudden, but painfully true, words.

Grace leans in, her voice serious, "I mean, you can't just hide behind an app and hope for the best. If you really want a shot with Y/N, you need to actually, I don’t know, tell her your feelings? She's not some untouchable goddess who's going to smite you for shooting their shot." 

Jake winces. "But what if she's not interested? What if I make it weird? What if—"

"Jake," Grace's voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "You won't know unless you try! And you're a great guy, but how would Y/N know that if you don't open yourself up more? Seriously, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh. Spontaneous combustion? If I look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds, I just might implode. Or, you know, cease to exist," Jake deadpans, his hands gesturing wildly to emphasize his impending doom.

Grace snorts at her poor, poor friend, clearly amused by his romantic spiral. "Okay, first, no one's ever died from eye contact, buddy. Second, I'm not saying you should storm out there and go ask for her hand in marriage or anything—please, don't do that. I'm just saying, just at least try talking to her more maybe.” Baby steps, Grace thinks, baby steps. 

Jake blinks. She's right. Of course she's right. He can’t let some algorithm control his entire love life, no matter how advanced or magical Heeseung claims it is.

Grace, seeing Jake's gears slowly turning, throws him a lifeline: “Alright, fine. If it makes you feel better, she may or may not have called you cute once. Better?"

Jake freezes. His eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. Cute? You called him cute? All the oxygen leaves his lungs, and he’s pretty sure he’s about to pass out right here in the library. 

"Wait, what?"

"Don’t get too excited," Grace smirks, clearly enjoying watching Jake short-circuit. "She said it in passing. Once."

Jake, now on the verge of a mental breakdown, blurts out, "Like, ‘aw-that-puppy-is-cute’ cute? Or like, ‘he’s-so-cute-I-wanna-kiss-him’ cute? I need specifics, Grace!"

Grace’s grin widens, watching her friend spiral into oblivion. "Jake, you’re overthinking it again. Relax. Just take the win."

"Grace, please, I'm begging you. On a scale from 'puppy' to 'kiss', where do I stand?!" Jake's eyes are practically bugging out of his head at this point. 

Grace rolls her eyes, but her teasing smile doesn't falter. "If you keep freaking out like this, you’re gonna drop down to 'awkward goldfish' cute real quick." 

"I’m doomed,” Jake groans, burying his face in his hands. 

Grace pats his back with mock sympathy. "Yep. But at least she'll think you're cute while doing it."

Jake peeks at her through his fingers. “You think she meant 'kiss' cute?”

"Finish your plan first, lover boy. Then we’ll talk."

Jake can’t help the ridiculous smile growing on his face.

Kiss cute, he decides. It has to be. 

You think if you have to read one more sentence about human anatomy, you might actually cry. You sigh as you close your textbook and push it aside to reside with the unnecessary amount of highlighters scattered on the café table between you and Grace.

"I hate this. I hate the circulatory system. Why do I even need to know what the ‘superior vena cava’ is," you groan as you take a sip of what's left of your watered down iced matcha.

Grace hums in front of you as her eyes continually scan the textbook, desperate to absorb just enough information to survive tomorrow's anatomy quiz.

"Because it keeps you alive, Y/N. Duh," Grace jokes as her eyes stay peeled to her textbook.

"Screw that," you scoff. "I don't need the circulatory system to keep me alive. I just need caffeine and BTS's entire discography pumped through my veins to live."

Grace finally glances up, giving you an amused side-eye at your usual dramatic flair, before she remembers she has an important mission at hand: 

Operation Jake & Y/N. 

Grace slams her textbook closed with a dramatic thud to show she's finished studying (she's not). 

"Sooo...speaking of circulatory systems and...hearts and...stuff—did you ever finish filling out the questions for Hee's love app thingy?"

You, oblivious to the sudden change in topic, shrug as you fish your straw around your plastic cup, hoping to find more drops of watery matcha to savor. 

"Yeah, I finished it the other day. It took me forever though. Like, why does it need to know if I'd rather have a personal trainer who can only teach me interpretive dance versus a personal chef who can only cook cereal? I swear Hee was on some drugs or something while creating those questions."

"Not drugs, probably an unhealthy amount of caffeine and ramen though," Grace snorts, still trying to play it cool.

"Caffeine is a drug, doofus," you say pointedly, right before you get a smack in the forehead by Grace's crumbled up straw wrapper.

"Whatever," Grace laughs. "Hey I'm curious—what did you put for your answers? Wanna compare? See how similar we are?" Grace's leg is bouncing under the table, trying to keep up the ‘smooth’ façade, hoping you won't find her sudden interest weird.

"Sure, why not?" you nonchalantly agree, not thinking twice about the random request.

Grace blinks in surprise. That was...way easier than expected. She was ready to prepare some elaborate excuse, like ‘I need your answers to match you up with my desperate best friend who's head over heels for you!’

Oh wait. That part is real. You get the gist.

"Unless...," you pause suddenly. Uh oh. "Unless you're going to sell my answers to some mad scientist and they try to make an evil clone of me to take over the world and end up framing me and I'll have to clear my name in a dramatic world-televised court trial."

Grace blinks, before rolling her eyes, as her nervous heartbeat returns to a normal rate. 

“You're so goddamn weird sometimes.” 

You beam at your friend, clearly amused at yourself, as you scroll through your answers and send screenshots to Grace without a second thought. "Sent! Oh, and send me yours—I wanna know what you put for 'Stuck in a room with Shrek for 24 hours' versus 'Fight 100 duck-sized horses.'"

“Oh, vibe with Shrek, 100%,” Grace answers without skipping a beat, earning an agreeing high five from you.

Grace is ecstatic. This was so much easier than she thought. Not only does this mean her desperate best friend will finally get his shot with you (which also means she won’t have to hear his dramatic overthinking questions about whether you sharing a sandwich with him was a cosmic sign or just a sandwich), but it also guarantees her a week of free coffee and an A+ in physics for this semester.

She quickly types out a quick message to Jake as you're still distracted by your now near empty matcha cup:

Grace [1:26PM]: "mission accomplished. prepare for epic matchmaking success and a lifetime supply of guilt-free caffeine. for me, ofc"

Grace leans back in satisfaction, practically tasting the sweet (and caffeinated) taste of victory. She's done her end of Mission Impossible, and now it's up to Jake to do...well, whatever Jake does in these situations.

Her phone buzzes with a reply from Jake:

Jake [1:28PM]: THANK YOU!!! also...not a lifetime supply...just a week. don't get it twisted"

"Look, all I'm saying is," you declare, leaning back on the couch, "if all five of us pitch in, we could most definitely rob a bank." 

What had started as a group study session two hours ago in your and Grace's apartment has, as usual, turned into your friend group's typical day of hanging out: wildly imagining scenarios so far removed from reality that there’s absolutely no chance you’d end up in them—but entertaining the idea anyway, because what else are you going to do when you're supposed to be studying?

Grace snickers from beside you, "Yeah, and with your stealth skills, we'd get caught in about three business seconds. You literally screamed when I dropped that piece of paper yesterday."

"It startled me! Gravity's such a scary concept, okay?" You huff, arms crossed. Jake, sitting on your other side, fights back the slight grin growing on his face as he watches you scrunch your face in that way he secretly finds unfairly cute, even if it is over your fear of inanimate objects. So weirdly adorable.

Heeseung, sitting cross-legged on the floor from across the couch, raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, do you even know how banks work?”

“She’s got the spirit. I’d give her a solid 7/10 for enthusiasm. Execution, though? Negative two,” Jay says as crosses his arms with a grin from beside Heeseung. 

You grab and throw a couch pillow at him, which he dodges with ease, sticking out his tongue. Jake instinctively shifts closer to you, to your oblivion, like he’s ready to shield you from any incoming retaliation missiles.

“What, and you’d be the brains of the operation? Mr. ‘I forgot my own phone password for two days?’” You fire back.

Jay shrugs, unfazed, “Hey, no need to bring up the past. We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah,” Jake finally chimes in, hoping you will notice how smooth he sounds, “but not all of us text our own phone ‘Why won’t you let me in?’ while the password is literally ‘1234.’”

Everyone laughs, except Jay, who gasps and points dramatically at Jake, “Betrayal. How dare you?”

“It’s public knowledge, bro. You told everyone,” Jake raises his hands in defense, but his eyes keep flickering back to you, wondering if your sweet laughter is because of him this time. And call him delusional, but he really thinks it is. You throw your head back from laughing so hard, at some point your hand graces Jake’s knee next to yours to stabilize yourself. 

It’s no secret—well, at least not to Grace—that Jake’s newfound confidence around you is all thanks to that one tiny lifeline Grace threw him: you called him cute once. Just once. And now, Jake’s running with it, holding on for dear life, and convincing himself that maybe, just maybe, you think about him the same way he thinks about you. Maybe. 

“I told you all in confidence! That was a moment of weakness!” Jay crosses his arms, looking like a child who just got scolded at. “I trusted you people.”

Grace, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the coffee table, pouts at Jay, “And that, my friend, was your first mistake.” 

“Et tu, Grace?” Jay gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been personally victimized by the betrayal of his closest friends. Well…he was. 

Heeseung, shaking his head, cuts in, “Okay, but if we’re robbing a bank, I’m in charge. I’m the only one here with any common sense.” 

You frown, “What do you mean? I have common sense! I brushed my teeth today and everything!”

Jake watches you with a soft smile, finding even your exaggerated outrage so weirdly adorable.

Grace bursts out laughing, “Y/N, sweetie, that’s basic hygiene, not common sense. But good job. We’re all proud of you.”

Jake, clearly riding his boost of confidence from earning that one (1) laugh from you, decides to add in and nods, looking completely serious, “Honestly, I think we should celebrate that. Maybe get you a gold sticker or something.” 

“You guys are bullies,” you mutter, sinking into the couch, but you're laughing too. Jake tries to hide how melted he feels when you laugh like that—all bright and simply, you.

“It's nothing personal, Y/N,” Heeseung adds, smirking, "but you can't easily get startled by inanimate objects and claim you have common sense."

Jay snickers, pointing at you, “Remember that time you thought the vacuum was attacking you?”

You shoot him a glare, debating on throwing yet another couch pillow at him, “It moved on its own, okay? That’s suspicious.”

"The Roomba was doing its job. You nearly declared war on the thing," Grace, mouth full of popcorn, can't defend you on this one.

Jake, on the other hand, feels compelled to defend you, even if he knows it’s ridiculous. You know, since he could relate to the whole impending-mental-doom-by-a-Roomba thing, "The Roomba was being weird that day.”

Jay side-eyes Jake, “Oh, so now you’re on Team Roomba Conspiracy? That’s rich.”

That is rich, considering Jake nearly signed up for therapy just days ago after having an existential crisis about being recruited to join your arch-nemesis—Roombas. Now here he was, ready to go to battle for your anti-automated-dust-sucker stance.

Jake shrugs, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly hyper-aware of your attention on him, “I just think we shouldn’t dismiss Y/N’s concerns so quickly.”

You turn to him with the softest smile he's seen in the history of smiles—one that fully knocks the breath right out of him. 

“Aw thank you, Jake! Someone around here finally gets it,” you momentarily rest your head on his shoulder for two fleeting seconds—short enough to show your appreciation but long enough to utterly dismantle the boy’s composure. 

He’s frozen. Brain empty, no thoughts…except for the scent of your shampoo rushing his senses. He’s not sure if he’s about to pass out or propose.

“Simp,” Jay mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Jake to hear. Jake shoots him a warning look, making Jay’s smirk grow wider. 

Grace, still giggling at the memory of you running away from a Roomba, then turns to Heeseung with a curious grin, "Speaking of concerns, how's the app going? When are we gonna find out who's paired with who?"

Heeseung immediately groans, frustratingly running a hand through his hair, "It's...going, alright. Some people are weird, man. I don't even know how to process some of these answers."

"Really? How so?" You perk up at this, interested. 

Heeseung sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, "Okay, look at this—someone put 'ramen' as an answer for what they're looking for in a partner."

Jay snorts, "Sounds like something you’d put, honestly. You should match yourself up with them!"

"And this person," Heeseung continues, scrolling and displaying his phone to the rest of the group, "just answered 'vibes' to every single question. Every. One. What does that even mean?!"

Everyone shrugs around the coffee table in confusion as the exasperated boy dramatically tosses his phone to the side like it personally offended him.

"Anyways. I should be done tonight, so hopefully the matches get released tomorrow," he reveals, to everyone's excitement.

"Ohmygosh, tomorrow?" Grace claps her hands lightly. "I can't wait, I hope I get paired with someone who, like, is secretly Spiderman or something. You know, someone with substance."

"I'm nervous, what if I get a total weirdo?" You mutter, eyes widening at the thought.

Jake thinks to himself: as long as he gets paired with you, he doesn't mind being a total weirdo. He'll be your total weirdo. He'll dye his hair neon rainbow, start collecting Russian nesting dolls, and live in a treehouse if that's what it takes.

"Y/N," Jay speaks up, cocking his head out from the bag of potato chips he's currently annihilating, "if anything, you're gonna be the weird one in whatever relationship you end up in."

You instinctively reach for another pillow to throw at him, but Jake is faster, shielding his arms around you, "Okay, okay, let's be nice. I'm sure Y/N will end up with someone perfectly normal, and anyone who ends up with Y/N will not find her weird at all." 

That's because Jake better be the one that ends up with you. And he definitely doesn't think you're weird. Well maybe a little. In an endearing way.

And hopefully, in your eyes, he's normal. Or not—it's all the same to him, as long as he's the one by your side. 

All the steps are set in stone. Now, he just needs the algorithm to do its thing and simply match you two together—which is bound to happen, given Jake is practically a Y/N 2.0 after copying all your answers. If this doesn't work, then the universe is officially out to get him. 

Yes. Everything will happen according to plan.

It has to.  

Nothing goes according to plan.  

Jake's eyes dart in panic between Grace's look of confusion and your phone screen, currently displaying to the rest of the lunch table your so-called soulmate's name, which, surprise surprise—it's not Jake.

Instead, it reads:  

Match: Park Sunghoon 

You shrug as you glance up from your phone, completely unaware of the Tom and Jerry hole Jake is crawling back down right now, "I think he's that new transfer student. I've seen him around in my psychology class, he's kinda cute!"  

Jake's heart sinks deeper than he thought was humanly possible. Cute? Like 'puppy' cute or 'kiss' cute? Oh god, his worst nightmare is coming true. He's about to be banished back to the sad category of 'automated vacuums' in your heart, left to raise 12 kittens on his own.  

Jay frowns, crossing his arm, "No fair, I haven't gotten my match yet, and Y/N gets the cute new kid? This is rigged."  

Heeseung smirks, leaning back in his chair like some algorithm god, "Patience, child. The results are rolling out throughout the entire day. I added that feature for the 'element of surprise.'" 

Grace, meanwhile, subtly leans towards Jake while everyone else rambles over your match, "Looks like the universe hates you."  

"I can't believe it didn't work. It doesn't make any sense, it has to be broken or something,” Jake says, visibly upset, trying his very best to not dig himself a grave right then and there in the middle of the university's quad.  

Grace shrugs, feeling confusion on behalf of her best friend as well, "At least you can say you tried. Maybe the universe is trying to hint at you to actually talk to her and get into a relationship the normal, organic way."  

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles. But Jake is too perplexed to listen to Grace's—very, very, valid—logic right now. 

Jake's thoughts spiral faster than a malfunctioning Roomba trapped in a corner, repeatedly slamming into the same wall with no hope of escape. Honestly, Jake wishes there was a wall around him right now to repeatedly slam his head into. Maybe that way the delulu in him—the one that convinced him he could hack his way into your heart—can finally escape his brain.  

His brain is short-circuiting in panic, bouncing between the reality of his failure and the absolute tragedy that Sunghoon—the cute transfer student (you probably think he's kiss-cute too) is about to waltz in and steal his entire future. Jake can already picture Sunghoon effortlessly holding all twelve hypothetical kittens, while Jake is left alone with nothing but his shattered dreams. 

Before Jake can imagine another over dramatic scenario in his head of you and Sunghoon that would make him physically rip out his own heart and stomp all over it, Grace's phone suddenly pings.

"You've got to be kidding me."  

Everyone turns to look at her, as Grace glances up from her phone, the look of pure horror on her face.  

Grace slowly turns her phone around for everyone to see, and there, in bold letters, sits:

Match: Park Jongseong  

A beat of silence (or as Grace would call it, moment of silence for the fallen. The fallen being Grace), then... 

“HA!” Jay cackles, pointing at her. “Sucks to be you.” 

"Oh, you think this is funny, Park?" Grace glares at him, and at everyone else for giggling at the absurd match. "I would literally rather match with my chemistry TA who wears socks with sandals."  

Heeseung perks up, clearly overly amused at the match drama ensuing around the table, "Wait, that chem TA's not that bad lowkey..."  

Grace throws him a look, "Hee, this isn't about Steve the TA! This is about my life being ruined in real time!"  

Jake tunes in and scoffs, so shocked at his friend's statement, he forgot the setting they're all in, "Your life being ruined? What about mine?"  

Jake quickly silences himself after he realizes what he just said..and in front of you. 

"What about your life getting ruined, Jake? Did you get your match yet?" You look up at him from across the table, curious who could possibly have Jake in such shambles (Ironic, isn't it?). 

"Err—no, not yet. What I mean is..uhh," Jake stammers, his remaining brain cells (which isn't many at this point) trying to muster up the best lie they could to cover himself. "My life would totally be ruined if Grace and Jay end up together because...uhh..because I'd totally have to third-wheel them all the time!"  

Yes, that's good Jake. Good job, good job.  

You seem to be convinced enough by the excuse, your eyes suddenly widening in fear.

"Oh god, you're so right! This means Jay's gonna be over at our apartment all the time now. He'll probably never leave,” you visibly shudder.

Grace gestures wildly at the entire table in disbelief, "You guys! What in the world makes you think Jay and I are going to end up together just because some love algorithm thinks we're good for each other? No offense, Hee."  

Jay, on the other hand, reclines back in his chair, looking entirely too smug for someone who just got called out as a last-choice match, "Hey, the algorithm knows what's up. Maybe this is fate, Grace. This could be fun." He points between the two of them, as if sealing a deal.  

"Fun?! Wrestling a bear made entirely of thorns sounds more fun," Grace physically recoils, like she just touched something soggy in the sink's drain, her expression sending the whole table into laughter. 

"Honestly, I see it. Can't fight the science," you speak up, throwing a knowing look at Grace before Jay gives you an appreciative high-five from across the table.  

Grace snaps her head towards you and gasps, "Traitor! How dare you—you better sleep with your door locked tonight or I swear—"  

"ALL I'm saying is—" you raise your hands in defense, interjecting before Grace can vow to eliminate you and your future lineage from the face of this planet, "—I think it’s kind of sweet you matched with someone you actually know, you know? I mean, I wish I got paired with a close friend. I’ve always believed in the friend-to-significant-other pipeline." 

Friend to significant other? Jake's internal monologue screeches to a halt. Y/N, I'm right here! I could be the one, not Sunghoon! That could be us!

Then, as if you could read his thoughts, your gaze meets Jake’s for just a beat too long, lingering in that space where words usually get lost. Jake swears your expression softens for half a second before you casually shift your focus back on Grace. His brain is officially overheating. Was that a hint? Was it? 

Oh my god. She’s totally hinting at me.

Or—no, wait. Maybe he's reading into it again. Maybe he's so deep into this 'delulu' life that now every sentence feels like it's tailor-made just for him. 

Yeah, that has to be it. Definitely the latter, right? Right. 

Heeseung perks up from his seat, pointing at Grace, "See? She's right. Trust the science. And the friendship! But mostly the science. Science doesn’t mess up, man. It must've sensed some... undercurrents between you and Jay." 

Grace looks like she’s about to leap across the table and strangle Heeseung with his own hoodie strings, but Jay interrupts with a wide grin. 

"Yeah, undercurrents, Gracey-poo. We’re destined." 

You lose it, breaking into uncontrollable laughter as Grace pretends to dry heave at the sound of the pet name. 

"And just like that," she says, dramatically standing up from her seat, "I think that’s my cue to leave. If I hear Jay call me ‘Gracey-poo’ again, I’m going to bleach my ears." 

The entire table is still laughing while Grace makes her swift escape to her next class. You finally manage to catch your breath, turning to Jake with a small smile (which also casually happens to send his brain into overdrive. No big deal, really). 

"I'm excited to see who you get paired with, Jake! I bet she's amazing."  

Jake feels his heart sink a little, but he forces a casual smile. No one is as amazing as you though (cheesy, but painfully true).

Trying to cover his disappointment, Jake shrugs, "I don’t know... I’m not really that into this whole matchmaking thing anyway." He leans back, feigning nonchalance. "I don’t think I’ll actually do anything with whoever I get matched with." 

Jake can’t tell if the small breath you let out is in relief or if, once again, he’s feeding his delusional part of his brain that’s been working overtime. 

But before he can overthink it, you raise an eyebrow, teasing him, "What? You’re not even curious? What if it’s someone perfect for you?" 

Jake laughs awkwardly, desperately trying to keep his cool. It would be perfect if it was you. But instead, he blurts out, "Yeah, maybe they’ll match me with my future laundry partner. Who knows?" Laundry? Really, Jake? 

"That would be a miracle," Heeseung looks up from his phone, gesturing towards Jake, "this guy never does his laundry."  

Jake shoots him a sharp look, "Not true! I just need...some motivation.." 

"Motivation from your future girlfriend?" Jay chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "That's gotta be a new low, dude."  

You nudge Jake's arm from across the table, grinning, "Hey, maybe the algorithm’s just that good. It knows you need a laundry-loving girlfriend in your life." 

Jake snorts, playing along, but his thoughts are a mess. Laundry-loving girlfriend? Nah, Jake needs you as his girlfriend—no question about it.

As you turn your attention back to your phone, the smile fades from Jake’s face, just for a second. His eyes linger on you longer than he means to, before he leans his head on his hand, pretending to care about whatever random TikTok Heeseung is showing him right now.  

But the video’s a blur. All Jake can focus on is how wrong everything feels. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to be his match. You are his match. He knows it.  

Forget laundry-doing-girlfriends or algorithm-approved pairings. If the app really knew what Jake needed, it would’ve led him straight to you. 

And honestly, Jake’s pretty sure he’s smarter than the sleep-deprived, ramen-fueled algorithm Heeseung cooked up. So yeah, screw the love machine. 

If the app won’t do it for him, then it’s time he takes matters into his own hands. 

(About time.)

“Please please please pleeeeease!” Jake’s trailing behind Heeseung throughout their shared living room like a toddler whose candy got snatched, but way more desperate.

Yeah, uh, this is Jake's idea of taking matters into his own hands.  

This is officially the billionth time Heeseung’s heard this in the past 24 hours. At least this time Jake managed to wait until Heeseung was out of the shower and fully clothed before launching into his regularly programmed meltdown. Progress, right? 

“Jake! You do realize what you’re asking me, right? You sound insane.” Heeseung's patience is thinner than the cup ramen noodles he’s survived on for the past week. He takes a seat on their couch, before pointedly looking at his desperate roommate. “You’re being ridiculously dramatic.” 

Jake scoffs, like the mature adult he is. “YOUR FACE is being ridiculously dramatic.” Yup. Like the mature adult he is.  

Heeseung came out to the living room in hopes of being able to catch up on the latest episode of The Bachelor, but to no avail, as the younger boy was waiting to catch him all day (not that Heeseung was actively avoiding Jake or anything, no definitely not). But instead of screaming at the TV in frustration at the bachelor's terrible decisions, here he was, staring at Jake, silently contemplating how many years in prison throwing him off their apartment's balcony would cost him. 

Three? Maybe four? Would it be worth it? Possibly. 

“All you gotta do,” Jake begins to launch his TED Talk, “is send out a mass email to all your participants and be like, ‘Oh noooo, the AI or robot or magical unicorn or whatever messed up!’ Then you just re-release the answers, but this time, pair me with Y/N, bada-bing bada-boom. Easy peasy.” 

Heeseung stares blankly. Honestly, prison doesn’t sound that bad. 

“First off, it’s not a robot. It’s an algorithm,” Heeseung says for the seventy-millionth time, contemplating launching his side career as a 'broken record'. “Second, if people found out it ‘messed up,’ my reputation would be in shambles. Can you imagine all the couples who met their match, only to find out it was a giant, steaming load of—” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jake waves him off, deploying his best attempt (key word: attempt) at puppy-dog eyes. “But what about my soulmate?” 

Heeseung groans and rubs his temples, “Jake, if she’s really your soulmate, maybe try telling her how you feel like a normal human being instead of begging me to rewrite reality?” 

Jake pauses, then, in true Jake fashion, says: “Yeah, but like...nah.” 

Heeseung looks at Jake, who is now staring at him with the intensity of someone waiting for a miracle, “You really don’t see how unhinged this sounds, do you?” 

Jake blinks. 

“I mean, yeah, but, like, what if it works? I’m just saying, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Wayne Gretzky said that.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes so hard he’s pretty sure he saw his past life flash by, “Did Wayne Gretzky also say, ‘Be a total weirdo and bother your friend to break all ethical codes and rig an algorithm because you’re too chicken to tell a girl you like her?’” 

Jake shrugs. “He might’ve. We don’t know his whole catalog of wisdom.” 

“I’m begging you—just talk to her. Or, I dunno, send her a meme on Instagram or something. Do anything other than harass me. Please.” 

Jake's face scrunches up like Heeseung just suggested he swim with sharks. “A meme? Really? Do I look like some kind of loser who communicates through memes? I’ll have you know I’m a very mature adu—” 

SMACK! 

A flying sock lands squarely on Jake’s head. He blinks, confused, as Jay strolls in from his room and plops next to Heeseung, looking way too pleased with himself, “Dude, you’re begging like a guy who just got ghosted by an ATM. Have some dignity.” 

“You’re not helping,” Jake glares, throwing the sock back at Jay. 

Jay, with the wisdom only a seasoned disaster like him can possess, shrugs, “Honestly, Heeseung, just rerun the thing. I’m pretty sure the universe would implode if this dude doesn’t get matched with Y/N. And frankly, I don’t want to deal with that level of cosmic drama.” 

“Jay, not you too,” Heeseung pinches the bridge of his nose as he realizes he needs to find a new spot to watch his show from now on. 

Jay raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, man, I’m just looking out for you. If Jake doesn’t get his way, he’ll never shut up. You’re one day away from him showing up at your room's door with a PowerPoint presentation. Think of your sanity. Plus, we all live together which means I have to see the presentation too. Think of my sanity.” 

“PowerPoint, huh? I could probably whip something up. Maybe add some pie charts and bar graphs,” Jake, clearly inspired, mutters to himself.  

Heeseung stares at the ceiling, wondering if this is his villain origin story (it most definitely is). “There’s absolutely no way I’m risking the integrity of my algorithm just because you can’t grow a backbone.”

Jake’s face falls, but Jay’s wheels are already turning on behalf of his friend, Mr. Simp, “Hold up, hold up. Hee, think about it. There’s gotta be something you want. I mean, everyone’s got a price, right?” 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, still annoyed, yet intrigued. What? A good deal is a good deal.

“And what exactly do you think I want, Jay?” 

Jay flashes a grin that screams mischief. 

“We know you’ve been grinding on this algorithm for weeks, man. Barely sleeping. Barely eating,” Jay narrows his eyes in dramatic fashion, as though he’s about to uncover a deep secret. “You’re like two ramen packets away from full-on malnutrition. Sad really.” 

“Yeah, bro. We care about you. You need... balance. Maybe a reward for all your hard work?” Jake suddenly adds, nodding vigorously, picking up on Jay's scheming. 

Heeseung stares at them blankly, “Are you bribing me with...food?” 

“Not just any food,” Jake adds, gesturing dramatically. “Free food. Unlimited food from anywhere, for a month. On me. You’ll never have to eat those mystery meat tacos from the dining hall ever again.” 

Jay interjects, pointing at Jake, "Hey, I'll have you know, those tacos are actually quite good! You just have to deal with the initial frequent toilet trips when you first try them..." 

Heeseung’s resolve flickers for a moment. His stomach growls at the mere thought of having actual, edible food (for free!) that isn’t microwavable...or whatever they put in those tacos. 

Jake, sensing weakness, presses on, “AND… AND! I’ll do all your laundry. One month. No questions asked. I’ll even iron your shirts.” 

Jay, impressed by Jake's bargaining methods, nods his head along as if to convince the skeptical Heeseung, hoping to save himself from also having to hear Jake's consistent whining around the apartment any longer.  

Heeseung narrows his eyes. “I don’t iron my shirts.” 

“I’ll iron them anyway. Luxury service.” 

A pause. Heeseung’s brain is doing some serious mental gymnastics. On one hand, his precious algorithm. On the other… food that didn’t come from a vending machine and clean clothes that weren’t dug out of his laundry basket which is somewhere in the abyss that is his closet right now. 

Jay nudges him, whispering like he's the devil on Heeseung's left shoulder, “Think about it, man. What’s more important? Some random algorithm, or free pizza from that one place around the corner every day?” 

“I swear, if this comes back to bite me..,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his temples but already thinking about the mouth-watering cheesy goodness he could be having every day.

“So, you’ll do it?!” Jake’s eyes suddenly light up with hope, reflecting the picture-perfect image of a golden retriever right now. 

“Fine,” Heeseung glares at him, feeling the last of his integrity slip away. “But if anyone asks, you never heard this from me. And I expect my meals hot and my laundry folded.”

Jake gleams and practically starts bouncing off their living room's walls. “Yes! Yes! You won’t regret this! I mean, you probably will, but thank you!” 

Heeseung shakes his head, regretting every life choice that led to this moment. Jay claps him on the back. “See? Was that so hard? Now you can live like a king for a whole month. I’d call that a win.” 

“A king with a crumbling empire,” Heeseung sighs.  

“Y/N, here I come!” Jake’s already halfway out their apartment's front door, with no destination in sight—just overjoyed with excitement that he feels he could run ten laps around campus right now (plot twist: he doesn't—he ends up running down the stairs just to get winded and comes right back up to the apartment). 

As Jake sprints off, Heeseung groans, “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?” 

"Nah," Jay shrugs, already opening his phone. "Probably.” 

Heeseung realizes he, indeed, made a terrible mistake when he looks up from his phone at lunch the next day and sees a particular you, storming up to the table.

Once you reach the table, you thrust your phone into his face, the ‘rematch’ email, that Heeseung had sent out only a few minutes ago, on display:  

Subject [SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT] : MatchMatic 3000 Oopsie Alert  Hello there, awesome students & fellow singletons,  Sooo...this is awkward. Despite weeks of blood, sweat, and ramen going into the creation of the Matchmatic 3000, it appears that a tiny part of the code had a full-on meltdown 🤖💔  As a result, some of the matches you received earlier this week were... well... not exactly what the love gods (or the code) intended. But hey, don’t panic! Not everyone’s match was wrong, just a small handful (I swear, please don’t come for me!).   I truly apologize for the mix-up, and I’m already back at my desk (and caffeine-mixed-with-ramen-fueled) fixing it.  The correct matches will be sent out ASAP—right after I double, triple, and quadruple check that this algorithm doesn’t throw another tantrum.  Thanks for your patience, and please don’t hunt me down! 🙏 I promise I’ll do better next time... or, at the very least, make sure the matches don’t require emergency therapy sessions.  Your (struggling) Campus Cupid,   Lee Heeseung,   Creator of the Slightly Dysfunctional Love Algorithm™ 💘 

”What happened to ‘Oh, the science is never wrong! I’m very smart, trust me, I’m King Romantic Algorithm!’” You mock in your best Heeseung impression, earning amused looks from everyone around the table—well, everyone except Heeseung. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Heeseung groans, holding up his hands defensively. Heeseung still can’t believe he’s apologizing for absolutely no reason, except for the looming fact that his hopelessly-in-love-with-you roommate is making him. “I swear, it must’ve been all the sleep deprivation. Maybe the algorithm glitched somewhere between my tenth cup of ramen and a power nap.” 

Heeseung shoots a knowing side glance towards Jake without anyone noticing, and Jake looks anywhere but at the older boy, avoiding eye contact at all costs.  

Jay raises an eyebrow as he chews on his sandwich, “Honestly, I’m not mad about it. I was still holding out hope for that cute boba barista.” 

“Excuse me?” Grace smacks Jay’s arm without hesitation from beside him. “What’s wrong with being matched with me?” 

Jay blinks at her in disbelief. 

“You literally said you’d rather wrestle a bear made of thorns than go out with me.” 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want to go out with me,” Grace mutters, crossing her arms as Jay chuckles and nudges her back. 

“I don’t have time for your boba barista fantasies, Jay,” you grumble, feeling clearly annoyed over the rematch debacle.

Jake, sitting across from you, has been…well characteristically quiet, probably because he’s still trying to figure out how to comfort you without feeling a pang of guilt for being the reason you’re frustrated. But he gives it a shot anyway, turning to you with a cautious, almost-too-casual smile.  

“Are you really that upset over the rematch, Y/N?” His voice gentle, almost laced with concern, you would think. 

You glance up at him, instantly feeling less annoyed…for some reason. Jake’s always had this weird ability to calm you down without even trying. Maybe it was just his soft and steady demeanor that made you feel the need to match his. You take a deep breath, smoothing out the sharp edges of your mood before you speak.  

“It’s not that I was desperate to be with Sunghoon,” you start, your voice softer now. “I don’t know…I guess it was just kinda exciting and meeting someone new is always fun, you know? I think I’ve just been wanting something new or different in my life.”  

You trail off, and when you meet Jake's eyes again, you catch the way he's nodding along, completely absorbed in what you're saying. His attentiveness is cute, it makes something flutter in your chest—an unfamiliar warmth. You, a little curious, let the feeling linger, before quickly brushing it aside. 

But Jake? He feels that warmth too, though for him, it’s coupled with a twinge of jealousy. He's bothered. The thought of you seeking something ‘new’ with someone else twists in his chest, but he hides it with a smile, determined not to let you see how much it bothers him. 

“Well,” Jake begins, voice light but with a subtle undertone of something more you pick up on and you wonder what it is. “Maybe it’s a good thing. The rematch, I mean. It’s like a second chance. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe Sunghoon’s secretly a serial heartbreaker…or into collecting voodoo dolls or something.” 

You laugh, his humor breaking through any of your remaining frustration, and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“You sound awfully optimistic about this,” you tease, trying to figure out if there’s something more to his words. Was there? Probably not, you deduce. Definitely not.  

Jake’s heart stutters, wondering if he's been caught red-handed. He fights the urge to panic and instead flashes you a cheesy grin and that somehow makes your stomach flip, though you can't exactly figure out why. 

“Just saying, it could be a blessing in disguise,” he shrugs, his tone playful but sincere. “Maybe this time, it’ll match you with someone who’s right in front of you.” 

Your breath catches as you take in his words quite literally. He’s just speaking metaphorically, right? But when your eyes meet again, there’s something in the way he looks at you—something that makes your heart skip a beat.  

For a moment, you don't know why, but you feel vulnerable in front of Jake. Jake, of all people. He’s always been sweet, always been there, but right now, the way he’s looking at you feels different. Maybe it's the way he's talking to you like you two are the only people at the table, like everything you're saying is heard and understood, and you feel seen amidst all the chaos. Like he’s seeing you in a way you’ve never quite noticed before. And it sends warmth radiating through you, mixing with the confusion already swirling in your chest. 

You blink and shake your head, you're overthinking. Jake is just being Jake—kind, supportive, and always ready to listen. That's just who he is. That's all.  

So why can you still feel his lingering gaze on you even as the conversation moves on? And why does it make you feel...something? Shy? Nervous? Excited? Maybe all of the above.  

Grace suddenly claps her hands together, breaking you out of your confusion, “Well, I think this whole rematch thing is the universe giving me a shot at a real love story,” she announces dramatically.  

“Right, because nothing says ‘romance’ like a computer’s ruling,” Jay rolls his eyes.  

Grace glares at him, “Maybe it’ll match me with someone who’s not emotionally unavailable for once.” 

You laugh at your friends' banter, but your thoughts are still stuck on Jake's words, and all you can think about is the possibility of getting paired with Jake. You feel a fluttering sensation at that thought, and as if you were afraid he could read your mind, you try to sneak a glance at him, only to catch him looking at you at the exact same moment. His eyes quickly dart away, making the interaction short enough to avoid any awkwardness but still long enough for you to catch the same gentle, almost longing expression, on his soft features.  

Your heart skips. 

Feeling exposed, you clear your throat, trying to break the silent tension you’re sure only you’re feeling. 

“Anyway,” you say, forcing a smile, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.” 

Your friends all nod and murmur in agreement at your statement, but your heart lingers on Jake. You can't help but glance back at him, your mind refusing to shake this unfamiliar feeling of...something—maybe the slightest flicker of hope—that you match with him. 

And maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't mind that at all.  

And for Jake, well, there’s only one version of ‘everything working out at the end,’ and it's simple, really—it's you. And for him, that’s the only ending that matters. 

Maybe Jake bit off a little more than he could chew this time. 

Sure, we’ve established that Jake’s inner simp—Jake Simp—is willing to do just about anything to end up with you. Training for a triathlon? Done. Cat-sitting twelve cats? He’d do it, no questions asked. So, naturally, promising Grace a week’s worth of iced coffee deliveries, finishing her physics poster, funding Heeseung’s meals and doing all his laundry for a month didn’t seem that bad in comparison. 

That was, until now—when he's speed-walking across campus, juggling an iced matcha latte (with two pumps of chai, because of course), a dry-cleaning bag with freshly ironed clothes, and a trifold poster board tucked precariously under his armpit, praying the drink doesn’t melt before he gets it to Grace.

Jake hastily rounds the corner by the library, barely keeping his balance when— 

Smack. 

Jake runs straight into someone, thankfully only sacrificing a few drops of the matcha as he stumbles, trying to keep everything from falling out of his grasp.

"Woah! Easy," an oddly familiar voice says, and when Jake looks up, he's met with your adorably amused expression. Of course it's you.

“Y/N!” Jake nearly chokes on his words, trying to steady himself. “I—uh, didn’t see you there.”

You laugh softly, your eyes flicking over everything in Jake's hold. 

"Is that a...physics project? I thought you took that class last year." 

Jake stalls, trying to recollect himself and somehow explain why he's running around campus with a trifold poster, (at this point, half-melted) iced matcha, and someone's else's dry cleaning, all over trying to end up with you. Because, yeah, there's really no way to explain that. But then...wait.

"I did take it last semester," he says, eyebrows raised. "You remember that?"

Now you're the one seemingly flustered, as if you're the one that just ran into their crush, sweating beads over running a million of chores. 

You think your face is as red as a beet right now, well, at least it feels like it. 

"Uh—yeah, I guess I did," you give a sheepish smile, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and Jake thinks he's about to faint from lightheadedness right then and there.

"Plus, you were always talking about how the professor went on tangents about wormholes...but you would secretly enjoy them because you always swore you could survive getting sucked through one, remember?" 

Jake’s heart skips at the way you're ever so casually recalling these details that even he didn't remember. He doesn't know which one takes the leaderboard, you calling him ‘Jakey’, or this.

"Wow," he breathes, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. "I didn't think you’d notice all that. I thought I was just rambling half the time and the group would nod along to just be nice."

You shrug, looking up at the boy in front of you while trying to play it off casually, even though your heart feels like it's about to break free from your ribcage. 

"Well, I guess I’ve just always remembered the stuff you talked about. It’s...kind of hard not to when you go on about it with that excited look on your face,” you quickly clamp your mouth and your eyes widen as you realize what you just said out loud. Yup, there goes your heart—broken out of your ribcage, running wild and free.

Jake blinks, mentally putting this interaction at the top of the leaderboard, for sure. 

"Wait, seriously?" Jake's eyes widen as he asks with his voice softer now, as if he's not entirely sure he heard you right. He shifts the matcha latte in his hand, trying to ignore the way his heart just did a little flip at your words.

You're mentally kicking yourself for blurting that out loud, what is going on with you? You swallow hard, feeling trapped in the moment. 

"I mean...yeah," you admit, your voice even quieter now, feeling the gaze of his eyes on you, as you fiddle with the strap of your bag. 

"You get really into the stuff you care about, and it's kind of cute. In, like, a wholesome way," you quickly add, feeling even more heat suddenly rush to your face, "it's just...you know...cute." 

You trail off as you realize you said cute twice but Jake's smile just widens even more at that, and suddenly the mountain of things he's carrying feels a teensy bit lighter. 

"So you think it's cute, huh?" 

Jake feels a newfound confidence, noticing how you're not your typical outspoken self, in fact, you almost look nervous around him. This is his delusion speaking right? Have you always been paying attention to him this way and he's been too blindsided to see it? Regardless, for whatever reason—delusion or not—in this moment, Jake feels a little more out of his comfort zone in front of you. 

"I didn't say that! I said wholesome!" Your eyes dart up to meet his as you protest, but the flustered look on your face betrays you and Jake thinks he could definitely soar to the moon right now.

Jake, still smiling, shifts his weight, and without thinking, takes a small step closer. 

"You totally did," his eyes peer teasingly at you and he doesn't know how he's still breathing, let alone talking, with you looking up at him, like that. "Guess I’ll have to keep talking about stuff I care about, then."

You try to muster something witty back, but the way he’s looking at you—and the way he’s talking to you—is making it so incredibly hard to focus on anything but the fluttering in your chest. 

"Yeah I guess you do," you smile back at him, noticing the lack of space between you two all of the sudden. You've never seen this side of Jake, and you can't help but enjoy it...the banter, the flirty glances, the way he makes you feel—

You clear your throat, snapping yourself back into reality, "So..what is with the project poster and…dry-cleaning?" Your eyes go back to everything he's juggling to avoid further eye contact, grateful for the distraction to give you a chance to catch your breath and regain your composure.

"Oh, this? You know, just doing my daily round of favors for Grace, Heeseung, and the rest of the world apparently," Jake chuckles, more so to himself, at how ridiculous of a situation he really did get himself in. 

You smile, your heart warming at the thought. Jake's always been this way—kind, thoughtful, always helping the people he cares about. Well…in reality, he technically is doing this for someone he cares about…you. 

"Damn, guess I should ask for the same treatment then, huh?" You tilt your head, lips quirking into a grin, eyes lit up.

Typically, that look on your face would have Jake in absolute shambles and he'd probably want to curl up into a turtle shell for life. But whatever cosmic forces that orchestrated this recent shift between you two had given him a much-needed confidence boost.

"I mean, I'd totally do that for you, if that's what you're asking," he leans in with another playful smirk on his face, "anytime."  

Your breath catches, the butterflies in your stomach fighting to escape. 

"Oh? Even if it means running across campus with an iced latte in one hand and my dirty laundry in the other?"  

“For you? Yeah. No problem.” 

For a second, you don’t respond, just watching him with a curious, unreadable expression that always drives him crazy. Now, Jake feels like he might actually pass out from how intensely you’re looking at him. 

Finally, you smile. “I'll hold you to that, Jakey.” 

Jake freezes. It's like you know exactly what that name does to him. 

You giggle, clearly amused at the way he stumbles over a reaction and quickly add, "Anyway, I'll leave you to it! Grace is gonna kill you for bringing over a watered-down matcha. But I'll see you later tonight for movie night, right?"  

Jake suddenly remembers the long-awaited (it was planned one day ago) movie night the group set for tonight, and he gets excited at the idea of seeing you again in just a few hours. 

"Definitely, I'll save you a seat?" 

"Mmm," you nod as you start walking away slowly, still facing him, basking in the way he's watching you. "See you later, Jakey!" 

You finally turn and stroll away, thankful your back is to him now so he can't see how your smile is growing wider than you thought was possible.  

On the other hand, Jake blinks, eyes on you as you walk away, still trying to process what just happened. Confidence or not, you always have the last word. But that doesn’t matter. 

One thing is for sure—Jake Simp is in full throttle, and he’d happily run across campus a hundred times, coffee and laundry in hand, if it means hearing you say his name like that again. 

Not that Jake’s been counting down the hours until movie night or anything—no, definitely not—but it’s been approximately five hours since he ran into you, and—if he’s being honest—about four and a half of those hours were spent thinking about how he’ll be seeing you again. The other 30 minutes? Well, they were spent explaining to Grace why her matcha was delivered watered down, which was a scolding he’d rather forget about. 

Needless to say, he's even more excited than usual to see you tonight, for no particular reason. But after your last interaction, Jake feels closer to you than ever before. There’s a tiny flicker of hope, but he keeps reminding himself not to get ahead of himself. After all, he’s only recently mastered the art of saying more than one sentence to you without hyperventilating. Baby steps. 

Jake’s eyes scan the coffee table of the living room, mentally checking off all the important snacks (important as in your favorite ones, of course).  

"What vibe are we going for tonight?" Heeseung calls out from the couch, as he flips through the Netflix homepage on their TV. "Horror or coming-of-age rom-com?" 

Jake grimaces, "Please, no horror. I’m still having nightmares from the last movie night." He shudders at the memory. 

"Dude," Jay strolls into the room, chuckling, "Coraline is a kids movie!" 

"A scary kids movie! That thing should be rated at least PG-13!" Jake protests, while still scanning the room to ensure everything’s perfectly set up. Snacks, check. Drinks, check. Your favorite blanket neatly folded on the seat he’s reserved for you? Check. 

As if right on cue, a knock sounds at the door, and Jay casually starts, "I got it!"—but because Jake's Spidey senses (aka Y/N-senses) are sure it's you at the door, he's already sprinting and launches to the door, parkour style, slightly nudging Jay out the way and making it to the door before him—all in a second's time. 

"It’s okay! I got it!" Jake blurts, a bit too breathlessly, leaving Jay with a mixed look of disbelief that quickly morphs into amused pity. 

"Oookayyy," Jay drawls, turning to Heeseung with a knowing look, clearly entertained by their roommate. "He’s officially lost it." 

Jake takes a breath and quickly runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to not look disheveled, before pulling open the door. 

"Y/N. Hi." 

"Jake. Hi," you smile up at him, dressed in what you would call your "comfy movie night outfit"—but what Jake would call Met Gala worthy. He's pretty sure you could wear a paper bag and it'd be Met Gala worthy. 

For a split second, Jake’s brain malfunctions as he stalls at the door. The moment he’s been daydreaming about in his head for the last five hours is happening, but now that it’s here, he has zero idea what to do. Think, Jake, think! 

"Congrats, you’re the first one here!" he blurts, mentally face-palming as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

You giggle as you step inside, "Well, that would make sense, since you guys live here, and Grace is always late to everything. But thanks, Jakey, I’ll take it." 

You turn to grin at the boy once more, and he's officially a goner. RIP.  

"Oh—right," Jake stifles a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, shooting Jay and Heeseung a death glare as they're both silently roasting him with their eyes.  

"Hi boys," you greet the others as you step into the living room, eyes immediately going to the table lined with snacks. "Wow, you guys really went all out!" 

"Hiii Y/N," Heeseung and Jay say in perfect unison. You give them a raised brow, but shrug it off, too used to their weird behavior to question it. 

"Sooo, which seat is mine?" You excitedly turn back to Jake, scanning the available spots.  

"That one! Best seat in the house, guaranteed,” Jake practically beams, heart pitter-pattering as he's pointing to the cushion right next to his favorite spot. 

"Oh really? What makes it the best?" you ask, plopping down and curling up instantly into the cushion, which makes Jake wonder how much more his heart can truly take before it spontaneously implodes on itself. 

“It comes with your favorite blanket and easy access to the snacks. All your favorites, by the way," 

Jake slides into the seat beside you, keeping his voice cool.  

He’s very proud of himself for that one. After all, he did scour three different stores near campus for watermelon Sour Patch and strawberry Pocky. 

Jay butts in, grinning like the devil himself, "And the fact that you’re sitting next to Jake makes it extra special, right, Jakey?"

"Oh? Is that so?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence, although you've always known that the middle seat cushion has always been Jake's sacred seat on movie nights. 

"He’s...joking. I can sit anywhere! I just, uh... think this seat happens to have the best angle of the TV." Jake’s heart is definitely about to combust. 

Smooth, Jake. Real smooth. 

You smile and place a hand on Jake’s knee, patting it lightly, "I trust you, Jake. I’m already enjoying this seat more than you know." 

Jake swallows thickly, his body going rigid under your warm hand briefly against his skin. He thinks if he tries to say anything else, it'll come out sounding like a goose giving birth to fifty eggs. 

From Jake’s other side, Heeseung chimes in, obliviously saving his hopeless roommate, "So, Y/N—horror or rom-com tonight?"

"Horror!" you gasp excitedly, eyes widening immediately, "I need those jump scares to make me feel something, you know?" 

Jay breaks out in a coughing fit, nearly choking on his sudden laughter, while Jake shoots him yet another death glare.  

“Y/N, I completely agree with you! Any objections anyone?” Jay announces almost animatedly, leaving you slightly confused but, once again, unfazed by your friend’s weirdness. 

"Nope, none from me. Jake?" Heeseung raises a brow, also trying not to laugh himself. 

Jake looks at you, seeing how excited you are, and yep—he’s screwed. More nightmares for him, it seems. 

"Nope! I’m...totally down for horror." 

You lightly clap your hands in excitement, making Jake realize that, yeah, the nightmares are probably worth it if it means seeing you this happy. 

As you reach over for a snack, Jay mouths the word "SIMP" at Jake. Jake responds with an eye roll, but yeah, Jay’s not wrong. 

~~~ 

The movie is only 20 minutes in when you frown looking at the coffee table, “How is it possible we’re out of snacks already?”  

“I blame Grace for showing up late. I got hungry, okay?” Jay says, pointing at her. Grace responds by smacking the back of his head. “Ouch.” 

Heeseung pauses the movie. “Vending machine run, anyone?” 

“Jake and Y/N, go! Perfect candidates,” Jay suggests without skipping a beat, rubbing the back of his head from the provoked attack.  

You raise an eyebrow at Jake, feeling your heart race a little faster. You're trying to play it cool but the thought of having a moment alone with him sends a buzz through you. It's the kind of opportunity you didn't realize you were hoping for—wait, were you? You have no idea. But what you do know is that being around Jake has felt different lately, in a good way. There's something about his presence that makes you want to be near him more and more. It's confusing, whatever this is, but all you can admit to yourself right now is, feelings or not, you want this time with him.  

Jake opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t manage to get anything out before you quickly grab his hand and pull him toward the door. 

“Okay! Be back in a few!” you call back to the group, trying to sound casual. 

Inside, you’re freaking out just a little. Or a lot. Definitely a lot. The feeling of his hand in yours is warm, almost comforting, but there’s...something that you swear is there. It just feels right.  

Jake follows behind you down the hall, and you can feel the warmth of his hand lingering even as you let go. You sneak a glance at him, and for some reason, he just seems... different. You've always found Jake cute. That's not news. But this—this is different, this isn't your typical ‘oh he's cute’ feeling...but you can't pinpoint what it is either. You shake the thought off.  

"Soo…" you start, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. Your heart pounds a little louder, and you hope he can’t hear it over the sound of your sneakers hitting the hallway tiles. He’s just so cute standing there, slightly awkward, but making it work. How can someone look this adorable just existing? 

“Sorry for dragging you out like that. I hope you don't mind,” you finally say as you both step into the elevator. You try to sound casual, but the slight bubble in your throat betrays you.  

“Oh—no, not at all. I totally wanted to...go with you...” Jake says, and then he quickly adds, “I mean, you're practically saving me from all the jump scares.” 

You laugh softly after a beat of silence, raising an eyebrow as the elevator doors open. “I thought you said you didn’t mind horror movies?” 

“Well,” Jake hesitates, but then says quietly, “how could I say no when you were that excited to watch one?” 

You blink, feeling your breath catch for a second. Did he just—? You look up at him, searching his expression, but all you see is that sweet smile of his, and your mind goes a little fuzzy, trying to piece together what that meant. 

You roll the thought around for a second before giving him a playful nudge. 

“Wow, who knew Jake Sim was such a people pleaser?” You’re teasing, but there’s an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest when he simply grins at you in response.  

As you step into the vending machine room, a soft hum fills the space. You glance at Jake again—he's studying the snack options with a small, focused frown, and you can’t help but smile. Why is everything he does so...frustratedly cute? 

Eventually, he sighs, giving up on his snack mission, and leans casually against the machine. Meanwhile, you're slightly bent down, continuing to mentally analyze the shelves, but you're hyper-aware of the fact that his eyes are definitely on you. And because you can feel the heat from his gaze, you swear you're turning ten shades redder by the second.  

“Are you gonna help me pick out snacks, or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound casual, even though your brain's in overdrive. Your eyes stay glued to the snack shelves, anything to avoid the tension of locking eyes with him right now. 

“Hmmm,” you can hear the teasing smirk in his voice, and it sends a spark through you. “Nah, you can handle the snacks. I’m perfectly okay where I am.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, but your pulse quickens. Punching in the numbers for a random snack, you slide a dollar into the machine, stalling a little before you finally stand up and look up at him. “Oh, are you?” 

You don’t expect him to be this close when you're fully standing up. The space between you shrinks, and suddenly, you can almost feel his breath on your skin. Your pulse thumps loudly in your ears as you try your best to swallow the lump in your throat.  

“Still perfectly okay?” The words come out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. You’re holding his gaze now, neither of you wanting to break it. You swear you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn't for your loud heartbeat right now.  

Jake swallows, and for a split second, you see him hesitate. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and that simple, unintentional move makes your breath hitch. You could lean in right now—close the gap between you—and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. Maybe you're hoping he's thinking the same thing. 

But then Jake chuckles, breaking the silence with his soft laugh that makes your stomach flip for maybe the hundredth time tonight. 

“I, uh… yeah, I’m still okay,” he says, though his voice exposes just how not okay he actually is. You see the faintest blush creeping up his neck, and it’s endearing—so much so that you almost forget you were nervous too.  

You swear you can sense him shuffle just a little bit closer and you're subconsciously wanting to lean into the feeling... 

Plop! 

The sound of the bag of chips landing at the bottom of the machine breaks whatever moment you thought was forming between you two.  

You blink. Jake blinks. 

For a split second, the two of you just stare at each other, wide-eyed, before Jake is the first to snap out of it. His hand quickly goes to rake through his hair, his eyes darting anywhere but yours, and the flush on his cheeks is unmistakable. It almost matches the heat you feel creeping up your own face. 

You can’t tell if you’re more relieved or disappointed that the moment broke so abruptly. You can't tell anything at this point, if you're being honest.  

“Uh—um,” you clear your throat, reaching for the snack like it’s the most important thing in the world. “I hope you like sour cream and onion chips!” 

You hold up the bag with a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension in the air. Jake just gives you this soft, searching smile, like he's trying to figure out what just happened—or maybe he's wondering if you felt it too. 

The way his eyes are so gentle, so open, makes your stomach flutter, and because you think you might actually crumble if he keeps looking at you like that for a second longer, you break eye contact to immediately turn back to the vending machine, hoping the heat in your face isn’t as obvious as it feels. 

“What other snacks do you think they’d like?” you hum, trying to sound casual, but inside you’re mentally screaming at yourself for not just going for it earlier. Great going, Y/N. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Jake letting out a small exhale before he chuckles softly. 

“Honestly, as long as it has sugar, I think everyone will be happy,” he says, and you instantly feel yourself relax, his lightheartedness simmering the tension a bit.

"Hmmm... sour cream and onion and sugar. Got it," you punch in a few more random numbers into the machine, feeding it your remaining cash. "Looks like we’ve hit all the major food groups for today. Nutritionists everywhere will be so proud." 

The air between you both feels a lot lighter now, but there’s still a lingering warmth under your skin—a little too flustered to fully shake it off. You wonder if Jake is feeling the same, but if he is, he seems to be handling it way better than you are. Of course he would be. Cool, calm, collected Jake. (Also ironic, isn't it?)  

"Honestly, we should just unplug the machine and rob the whole thing," Jake playfully adds as you grab the last snack from the bottom slot. "You already know Jay’s gonna inhale all of these the second we walk back in." 

"You’re so right. I say next time, Operation 'Y/N and Jake versus the vending machine' needs to happen,” you laugh, feeling a little more like yourself again. 

"Oh, so what I'm hearing is there’s gonna be a next time?" Jake raises an eyebrow as the two of you start heading back to the elevator. "Count me in." 

You instinctively roll your eyes at how annoyingly smooth he was being, but you can't help the giddy smile growing on your face as a result of his words. As you two stand side by side to each other in the elevator, there's a new quiet that's settled and it's...nice. It's not awkward, just...heavier than before. As if there's a shared secret between you—something you both know but aren't ready to speak aloud just yet. But it's there—just for the two of you to mutually share in comfortable silence.  

Before you reach the apartment, you feel a light tug on your sleeve, and you stop. Looking up, you see Jake holding onto the corner of your sleeve, his expression...soft. Like, too soft. And for a moment, you swear time just stops. If he was on a mission to officially kill you, he can officially say mission accomplished.  

"Y/N, I—" he hesitates, his voice quieter again, like he's about to say something serious, and your heart picks up speed again. But then he stops himself, his grip loosening.  

You blink up at him, wanting him to continue so bad, but also unsure if you're ready of what might come next. 

"Mmm?" you hum, almost afraid to say anything louder. 

Jake bites the inside of his cheek, looking like he’s at war with himself. He finally lets go of your sleeve and gives you a small smile. 

"Sorry, it’s...nothing. Just... you look really nice tonight." 

The sudden, sincere comment catches you off guard, and you feel that familiar warmth rush to your face once again.  

"Oh," you manage to squeak out, because apparently, that's all you're capable of in the moment as your heart is spiraling. "Thanks, Jakey."  

You smile and look down at where his hand just was on your sleeve, and you almost want to reach out and grab his hand again, just to see if it'll feel as warm as it did earlier. Why do you want to reach out so bad?  

Jake's eyes flicker to yours, and for a split second, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable—but then, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to the apartment door behind you, and he clears his throat.  

"Yeah," he says almost breathlessly. "Sorry, we should...probably go in. They probably think we got lost or something at this point."  

You finally let out a breath and snap yourself back in reality from staring at him. 

"Right, yeah. Wouldn’t want them sending a search party," you joke, though your brain’s still fuzzy from the million thoughts and feelings swirling around. 

As Jake unlocks the door, you can’t help but wonder if whatever just happened between you two was all in your head. But it can’t be, right? That feeling had to be real... Right? 

You step inside, and your friends’ commentary barely registers. It’s all background noise compared to the whirlpool of emotions screaming inside you. You sit back down on the couch, and so does Jake, in his seat next to yours.  

And while the movie plays for the rest of the night, you can't seem to focus on anything but the memory of everything that's happened tonight. That and the feeling of Jake’s arm resting right up against yours.  

You’re doomed. 

Jake has never been more confused in his entire life, like, ever. The past few days for him have been more confusing than that one semester he took Postmodern Interpretations of the Emoji Language and actually had to write a ten-page paper on the laughing emoji (don't judge, he had to fulfill his last two elective credits somehow).  

Life has been an absolute whirlwind for Jake—mainly due to the fact that his emotions have been spinning out of control. And to top it off, today’s the long-awaited rematch day.  

Normally, Jake would be a complete wreck by now, bouncing his leg under the table or fidgeting with his phone, but today? Today, he's nervous in a completely different way. The kind of nerves you get when you already know what's about to happen… but after everything that’s gone down lately, he thinks there’s something more between the two of you. And it has nothing to do with Heeseung’s so-called love algorithm. 

At least, he hopes there’s something between you two. Unless—oh god—he’s been totally delusional this whole time, and you’ve just been nice, and Jake’s fully lost it. Perfect, that’s exactly what he needs right now, on top of everything else. But the scariest part? In just a few moments, when the app refreshes and pairs you two together, Jake's going to have to face whatever's been simmering between you both—whether he's ready for it or not.  

And as if Heeseung could read his trembling thoughts, he breaks the silence at the lunch table, "Are you guys ready?"  

Grace and Jay's heads are nodding so fast for Heeseung to just push the 'send' button already, Jake thinks they look like bobbleheads. But when he glances over at you, you don't seem nearly as eager. Which is...weird. Considering how only a couple days ago, you were fired up about the rematch. But now? You look almost...conflicted?  

Jake's eyes linger on you for a second longer, taking in the way you're biting your lip, clearly deep in your thoughts. He can't help but find the sight of you zoned out like that so ridiculously adorable.  

"Y/N?" He nudges you gently. "You good?"  

"Huh?" You blink, snapping out of your daydream. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Just...thinking, I guess."  

"You'll be fine, Y/N!" Grace chimes in, ever the optimist. "I bet you're gonna love whoever your match is!"  

Well, gee, Jake really, really, hopes so. If not, the last few days will have been a very confusing rollercoaster of emotional whiplash. 

"Right," Jake agrees, trying to act normal, though his voice sounds a little too tight. "Everything's going to be fine." Please, please let everything be fine.  

Jake can tell you're hesitant about something—you open your mouth like you want to say something, but then just as quickly, you press your lips closed again. If Jake didn't think you were the most precious being in the world, you could say you look like a fish out of water right now.

"Hypothetically speaking," you slowly speak up, eyes flicking up to your friends. "What would you do if...let's say you started catching feelings for someone...but then the app might pair you with someone else?" You pause, swallowing hard. 

"Hypothetically…of course.”

Grace raises an eyebrow. Heeseung freezes mid-bite. And Jake? Well, let's just say his heart is already running a mile into the marathon. Hypothetical? Feelings? That has to be about him, right? What were the chances?  

Jay lets out a snort. "Lucky for you, in a hypothetical situation, you do absolutely nothing. Cause it's...you know, hypothetical."  

"Yeah, you're right. Forget I said anything." You wave your hand, brushing it off, but Jake notices a blush growing across your face. "Okay, Hee! Let's get this over with."  

Jake's mind is spinning. What could you have possibly meant by that? That had to be about him...right? Because that is all he's ever wanted, all he's been pining for. But at the same time...it's too good to be true, so Jake refuses to believe it. He can't get his hopes up—not yet.

"Okayyyy," Heeseung's still lifting an eyebrow at your odd behavior before he clears his throat, “everyone ready?”  

Jay and Grace drum the table in anticipation, and Jake? Jake's pretty sure he's going to throw up. 

Heeseung taps his screen, and the table collectively holds its breath. Then, all at once, everyone’s phones light up. 

Grace and Jay scramble to grab their phones first and Jake thinks he's actually developing an incurable case of heart failure.  

“WHAT?” Grace shrieks before she whips around to Jay with wide eyes. “I got you, AGAIN!”  

Jay, unbothered, raises his hands defensively, “What can I say? It’s science, Gracey-poo.”  

"Sure. Science," Grace rolls her eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't get stuck. "Like how you scientifically forgot how to text me back after last night's study sesh?"  

Before Grace can verbally throttle Jay, Jake's entire focus narrows in on you, and how your phone is still face down on the table. You haven't even touched it.

The suspense is killing him, especially knowing his name is going to be on your screen. And if it's not? Well, then the end. End of fanfic. Cue the end credits.  

You, on the other hand, are staring intently at the Grace v. Jay debacle, as if focusing hard enough on other people's life issues will prevent the existential crisis you're about to have. Honestly, your phone could've exploded into a million pieces next to you and you'd still be pretending to care more about anything else.  

Because honestly? You couldn't care less about whoever Heeseung's magical powers paired you with—you're more focused on whatever's been going on between you and Jake. Or at least, you hope, there’s something happening between you and Jake. Unless, oh god, he's just being nice, and you've fully lost it. Please, please don't tell me I've lost it.  

"Y/N! Jake! Who did you guys get?" Grace turns towards the two of you, breaking the both of you out of your respective spirals. 

"Right, yeah. Um—okay. Let's see,” you let out a shaky laugh as your hands fidget in your lap before they finally reach for your phone, as Jake does the same next to you.  

You take a breath, click on the daunting email notification on your screen, and finally look down.  

You blink down at your phone. You squeeze your eyes to make sure they’re not deceiving you.  

Match: Sim Jae-yun  

Your brain is absolutely jumbled beyond saving, you seem to have forgotten how to breathe, and your stomach feels like it was just turned inside out. You don’t know what’s happening, is this what dying feels like?

You blink once. Twice. And maybe a third time just to make extra, extra sure.  

Suddenly, the whole room seems to slow down, like you're watching a replay of your life recently at 0.5 speed. All the moments between you and Jake flash by: the vending machine run, the shared glances, the oddly adorable way he got flustered over you calling him 'Jakey.' But you don't have time to fully process everything because the fact is:  

You’ve just been matched with Jake. Jake.  

You finally look up, heart racing, and try to see if Jake's opened his notification yet, but his face is still too normal at whatever he's looking at on his phone. Or, more accurately, he's pretending to be normal, because the tips of his ears are a little too red for someone who's ‘chill’ (he's most definitely not chill, right now).  

"So, uh..." Jake's voice finally comes out quiet, his gaze slowly meeting yours, and it makes you feel like you two are the only ones at this table. Scratch that, in this world. "Did you open yours?"

"Yeah,” you nod, trying to act nonchalant, “I did.”

Jake lets out a soft chuckle, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"Same here."

The way he says it—soft, like he’s addressing the shared secret between the two of you—makes the air feel warmer. Or maybe it’s just you overheating. Get it together, Y/N.

Grace, across the table, catches the tension happening in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth like she's watching a slow motion scene of a k-drama unfold in real time. Then—

“Oh my god,” she gasps loudly, before violently clapping a hand over her mouth. 

Her eyes fill with excitement and just as quickly, she jumps up, grabbing both Jay and Heeseung by the back of their shirts and yanking them to their feet. 

“We’re getting boba! Be right back!”  

Heeseung’s brows scrunch. “Wait, what? I don’t even wan—“  

“Too bad! We’re going.”  

And just like that, you’re left alone with Jake next to you—and his flaming red ears that could probably power a small country. 

“So…” Jake clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he finally turns to look at you.  

“So..,” you softly say, your fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table, hoping he'll say something, anything. 

"So," Jake repeats for the third time, followed by an awkward chuckle. “Uh...what do we...do now?”  

You blink.

“Do now?”  

Jake’s eyes dart to yours, and for a second, you think he’s about to up and bolt from the table. 

“I mean, like, uh...we’re…well, I don’t know, is there something to do now..? Or not do? That’s okay too! I have no idea. I’m just—wow. Sorry.”  

You smile endearingly at him before breaking out into laughter as your heart does a little Olympics routine. How were you this oblivious before?  

“Jake,” you say between laughs, catching your breath as you instantly feel eased by him. "It's okay. I've been thinking...I—" 

You mentally high-five yourself and give yourself a pep talk for what you're about to say. Please, for the love of all things holy, don't let me be wrong about this.

"I can't stop thinking about you," you say, voice quiet, but steady. "It's like you've taken over my brain, Jake, and it's driving me crazy. And I don't know—I don't know if it's just me or if everything I've been sensing between us is real, but I think my brain might explode if I didn't tell you. Plus, I was terrified the Matchmatic would pair you with someone else and I had lost my chance."  

You finally feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders, but when you look at Jake? He's gone. Eyes wide, looking like a malfunctioning robot. His mouth opens and closes, and you're 110% sure he's about to glitch out of existence right in front of you.  

"Wow."  

You blink. Wow? That's it? Is this a good wow or a wow-she's-crazy wow? Naturally, you think it’s the latter, so you mentally prepare yourself to fake your death and move to Norway.  

But before you're about to flee the scene and start your new life as a mountain goat herder, Jake's eyes lock on yours, filled with the softest, most fond expression you've ever seen.  

"Y/N, I like you. A lot. And I have for, like...forever, I think." His voice is quiet, but his shoulders are more relaxed the more he looks at you. "I didn't think you'd feel the same way. You know, because we're friends and all." 

Your smile grows impossibly wide as you nudge his shoulder playfully with yours. 

"Well, surprise surprise, you're wrong."  

Jake chuckles, now fully facing you, his face flushed from wearing his heart on his sleeve. But for you? He thinks he’s about to stand on this lunch table and scream his feelings into a megaphone. 

"So...maybe we could try out this 'more-than-friends' thing?" you suggest, finding it hard to form a coherent sentence without sounding like a fifth grader. But Jake? Jake thinks seeing you stumbling your words over talking to him, for once, is the cutest sight ever. "I mean, unless you don't want—"  

"Oh, I definitely want to!" Jake practically launches himself forward, his smile so big you wish you could keep a mental image of it forever.

You laugh, suddenly feeling lighter. "Okay, then. Let's do it."  

"Here's to doing it!" Jake echoes, his voice warm and soft as he moves closer to you, finding it hard to resist just simply being in your close presence. Then, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, "I mean, not like do it, do it—wait, but not saying that I wouldn't—oh god—"  

Your giggles are uncontrollable once again as you watch Jake's face turn into the deepest shade of red you've ever seen. Without even thinking, you reach for his hand, seeking stability, as if he's a magnet drawing you in and you can't resist the pull of his warmth.

You finally take a breath, calming yourself down as Jake's eyes flicker down to your intertwined fingers, and his smile softens into something that makes your heart so full.  

For a moment, neither of you say anything, just letting the weight of everything finally settle, your hand resting under his in between you two. Then, Jake's thumb brushes softly over your knuckles, and he looks up at you with that newfound confidence that somehow makes him even more irresistible.  

“So…now what?” Jake's corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he subconsciously leans in closer than before, and this time, you know there's no way you're backing out. 

A playful smile tugs at your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft brown eyes and his mouth. 

“Well, I mean…you still owe me from the vending machine.”  

Jake freezes. He blinks in confusion, and you're pretty sure you can hear the whirrr of his brain rebooting right in front of you.  

“Oh, you mean for the snacks? How much do I owe you? I can Venmo you, or, uh, buy you more snacks?” he stammers, completely caught off guard by your random comment, especially when he thought this was the moment. But, you know...priorities, I guess?  

Now you freeze, blinking at him before you let out a giggle that surprises even you. Seriously? You reach out and gently cup his adorably confused face.  

"Jake, you lovable dork," you say, shaking your head, unable to stop the giggles bubbling up. "Not what I meant."  

Jake doesn't even get the chance to respond (and honestly, he doesn't know if he could even form words right now, not with you so close, holding his face so gently). Before either of you even know it, you lean up and close the gap, your lips softly pressing against his.  

Jake freezes for a heartbeat. Or maybe two. He's unsure if he's even still breathing (is oxygen even necessary at a time like this?). But then, instinctively, his hands find their way to your waist, and he's gently pulling you closer on the table bench, as if he's afraid to let you slip away. He's pretty sure the world hit pause, and all that existed was the softness of your touch, the sweet warmth of your lips, and the faint vanilla scent of your shampoo that's doing a great job at scrambling his brain right now.  

He tries to stay cool—he really does—but his lips curve into a smile against yours, and he can't help but think, well, this is it. This is peak life. I've peaked. This? This just knocked anything else right off the leaderboard of his best life moments. 

It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed and everything Jake’s been dreaming about.

He's savoring every little moment, every little movement guided by you, feeling like he's on cloud infinity, before you pull away, a soft pink blush growing on your entire face.

You lean your head back slightly to look at him, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you. Jake’s eyes are wide, his cheeks flushed, but there’s a soft, almost dazed smile playing on his lips, like he’s still processing.

"W-wow," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he's trying to process if he's actually alive or in a sugar-induced dream. 

"Yeah," you breathe out, smiling as you gently run your thumb across his cheek, enjoying the way his face heats up even more under your touch. 

"So...," you say playfully after a beat of silence, leaning in so close that you're sure you’d be kissing him all over again if it wasn’t for your self-control, "do I still get my snacks?"

Jake laughs, officially breaking the heavy tension. He drops his head on your shoulder, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the pure sensation of you, but in the best way possible.  

"You can have all the snacks you want," he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with so much affection that you think you might actually burst with joy. "Take my whole bank account while you're at it. Take whatever you want."  

You can't help but laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer to you. 

"You're ridiculous, Sim Jae-yun." 

"I know," he admits, voice still muffled into your shoulder. "But I'm your ridiculous, algorithm-proven match, right?"  

Jake feels your laughter from under him. "Mmmhmm, Jakey. 100% mine. Algorithm or not."  

You feel his smile grow against your shoulder as your arms squeeze him tighter. The perfect moment settles and you think you could die happy right now. For the first time in days, everything feels right.

But then, Jake pulls back just slightly, still under your hold, his eyebrows furrowing like he's about to say something very important.  

"Wait—" he raises his eyebrows at you.

 "—does this mean you never saw me as a Roomba?"  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

epilogue: 

“If your next words are that you’re Spider-Man,” you say, your head nestled in Jake’s lap as you absentmindedly watch the TV, “then congratulations, you’re officially the world’s coolest boyfriend ever.”

Jake lets out a soft laugh, his fingers gently playing with the ends of your hair. It’s movie night—a rare, private one this time, much to your friends' annoyance. No horror films tonight (thank god, because Jake still hasn’t fully recovered from the last one), but honestly, the movie has long been forgotten. The moment Jake blurted out that he had something ‘dire’ to tell you, all plotlines flew out the window. 

You told him, unless it's about a sudden worldwide ramen shortage or that he's secretly a bug-themed superhero, then it could definitely wait until after the movie. 

But Jake had shook his head, claiming no, it’s like…life-changing important. 

Which is why you’re here now, his lap a perfect pillow, waiting for him to speak. He looks down at you, and you finally catch the serious gleam in his eyes. Oh wait, he’s actually being serious. 

“No, unfortunately, I don’t have Spidey senses,” he laughs nervously, gently nudging you up until you’re sitting face to face on the couch. “I do think I’ve developed Y/N senses, though.” 

“Oh? What are your Y/N senses telling you now?” you raise an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Um… that you hopefully won’t be mad at me?” Jake’s voice wavers slightly, hands fiddling with yours, and your playful smile fades just a little, confusion and worry taking over your face. 

“Oh. Okay. What’s up?” You straighten up, fully turning toward him, sitting crisscrossed.

Jake hesitates, looking down at your intertwined fingers, and takes a deep breath.

“Well, remember the Matchmatic thingy from a few months ago?” 

“Mmhm,” you hum, studying his expression. 

“So… um…I may or may not have done something…to make sure you got matched with me,” Jake’s eyes immediately squeeze shut, bracing for impact, like he’s expecting an explosion, or worse, your wrath. 

There’s a beat of silence. And then— 

You burst into laughter. Full-on, head-thrown-back, shoulders-shaking laughter. You drop your head back into Jake’s lap, your cackles muffled by his hoodie, while Jake sits frozen, staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. 

“I—uh… I’m confused?” He stares down at you, unsure if you’re about to pull a full-on Joker moment. 

“Jakey,” you coo, your laughter softening into giggles as you sit back up and cradle his cheeks. “You are so adorable. You really thought I didn’t know?” 

Jake blinks. 

“Wait, what?” 

“I knew.” You grin, watching as his brain seems to stall for a second. 

“…You knew?” 

You nod, leaning back on your hands. 

“Yeah, I knew. I mean, I kind of just put two and two together after we started dating. And Hee? He's a genius, no way he messed up the first way around,” you roll your eyes playfully. 

“But the thing is, Jake… the algorithm didn’t make me like you. I already did.” You reach forward and tap his forehead lightly, preciously smiling at how utterly stunned he looks. 

“You—wait, what?” Jake’s mind is catching up at the speed of 3G internet. 

“Yeah,” you laugh again, softer this time.  

He’s still staring at you, wide-eyed, like you just casually told him you're moving to the moon tomorrow. Honestly, he looks like his entire world just got flipped upside down, but in the best way possible, of course.  

“So…you’re not mad?” 

"Nope."  

"And you still wanna be with me?"  

"Yup."  

"And you're not just saying that because I buy you all the snacks you want?"  

"Nope."  

"Oh thank god," Jake exhales dramatically, hand flying to his chest like he barely survived a life-threatening situation. He looks at you with the softest, dopiest smile that makes you feel like you're staring at a puppy in a rom-com. "Because you are, hands down, the most perfect person for me. Like, ever."  

"You are so cute, Jakey," you scrunch your nose at him before leaning up to plant a quick kiss on his blushing cheek, which only makes his ears turn an even deeper shade of red.  

But before you can pull away, he's already frowning playfully.  

"Wait, wait—one more question." 

"Mhm?" 

"Cute as in 'kiss' cute or 'puppy' cute?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! i hope you guys liked it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

m.list here!

tagged: @climbingmandevillas @byeoltual @junhuiste-ficrec

cue all the tags now...

[snovaness]

page.soobin (classic enemies to lovers)

Summary: reader just opened a cute little bookstore cafe and soobin is a loud pretentious asshole that talks loudly on his phone lol

Genre: fluffy

Characters: soobin x f!reader

Words: 3k?? i think

Completed (oneshot)

tw: soobin's an asshole but like the good kind so does it really matter

a/n: i hope this makes up for the soobin in my last story sorry lol

It had barely been a year since ‘Pages’ had opened. You had worked hard to save up enough money to open your dream bookstore/cafe. A quaint little rustic-looking bookshop right next to the hustle and bustle of Seoul. Shelves lined with your favourite books, lights dimly lit to accentuate the atmosphere, the scent of freshly brewed coffee taking up space in your lovely quiet bookstore. Pages had been your haven. A getaway from the corporate world that sucked your energy. Having a previously well-paid job, however, did you justice. 

Though Pages was still new, you had already gained a few regulars who would occasionally pop in to read the latest editions of the mangas you’d specially acquired.

“Here. Especially for you, I even tabbed the best parts. Don’t skip ahead though.” You chuckled, smiling at one of your favourite customers who you befriended. 

“Thanks! I’ll have the usual, by the way.” Kai said, as his eyes scanned the manga you had just passed him. 

“It’s just you today? Where’s…uh…what’s his name again?” You enquired.

“Beomgyu?”

“No, the one who talks less.” You joked.

“Ah, Taehyun? He has work. C'mon now, I'm not good enough for you?”

You rolled your eyes, "I was just wondering. Taehyun was asking for a book and I finally found it!"

"I'll tell him about it. Thanks. You really are our favourite bookstore owner." Kai grinned.

"You're not getting another free drink from flattery." You rolled your eyes.

"Aw man."

"I'm kidding. The drink's on the house. The manga however is not."

"Deal!"

You nodded, turning to prepare Kai’s order when you heard the door chime once more.

Your heart sank a little as you saw Soobin walk in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face.

Soobin, the travel writer who had recently moved to town, had a knack for disrupting the peace of your beloved bookstore. He strolled up to the counter, oblivious to your internal groan.

Sure, he was good-looking. Sure, you've thought about how it would be like to be next to him calling him your boyfriend and showing him off to everyone but...dear God, did he also grind your gears.

“Morning! The usual, please,” Soobin said, leaning casually against the counter.

You forced a polite smile. “Good morning, Soobin. One iced Americano, coming right up.”

As you prepared his coffee, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of irritation and curiosity. Soobin’s presence always managed to throw your day off balance, yet there was something undeniably intriguing about him. It could’ve been his good looks or just the fact he was always talking about these wondrous travels that you’d never been on. You couldn’t decide.

Plus, he was just really hot.

“So, how’s the book coming along?” you asked, attempting small talk as you handed him his drink.

“Slowly,” he admitted with a sigh. “But this place helps. It’s got a charm that’s hard to find anywhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sincerity. “Well, I’m glad you like it here.”

He took a sip of his iced Americano, his eyes meeting yours with a teasing glint. “I do. Even if the owner is a bit of a tyrant.”

Your smile turned frosty. “Maybe if certain customers respected the rules, the owner wouldn’t have to be.”

His grin widened, unfazed. “Rules are meant to be bent a little. Keeps life interesting.”

“Interesting for you, maybe. A headache for me,” you retorted, your patience wearing thin.

“Come on, admit it. You’d miss me if I stopped coming,” Soobin said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring.

“Like a toothache,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Just try not to scare off my customers with your loud phone calls.”

“Sure,” he said with a wink, turning to find his usual spot by the window.

As you watched him settle in, your irritation simmered. Soobin had a way of getting under your skin like no one else. It was infuriating, yet there was something about his confident, carefree attitude that you couldn’t entirely dismiss. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Soobin than met the eye—but you weren’t ready to admit that just yet.

It was peaceful for the first 30 minutes of his presence. Then you heard Soobin’s atrocious ringtone blaring, shattering the calm like a sledgehammer through glass. That usually meant it was the end of your peace.

“Hello?” Soobin answered loudly, his voice carrying across the bookstore.

You clenched your fists, trying to maintain your composure. Customers glanced up from their books, their expressions mirroring your annoyance. You marched over to Soobin, who was obliviously engaged in his conversation.

“Soobin,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low yet firm. “Can you please take your call outside?”

He looked up at you, seemingly surprised by your irritation. “Just a minute, I’m almost done,” he mouthed, holding up a finger, pressing them against your lips.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him until he reluctantly stood up and moved toward the door, still talking animatedly. As he stepped outside, you let out a frustrated sigh, hoping the rest of his call would be brief.

When he finally returned, he had the audacity to smile at you as if nothing had happened. “Sorry about that. Important call.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Next time, please take it outside from the start.”

He chuckled. “You really do enjoy being a tyrant, don’t you?”

“And you really enjoy pushing my buttons,” you shot back, turning on your heel to walk away.

“Clearly.” He teased, following you further into your bookstore. 

As you continued to walk away, you felt Soobin's presence lingering behind you. Despite your attempts to ignore him, his persistence was impossible to overlook. You sighed inwardly, reminding yourself that he was just a customer, albeit a particularly annoying one.

"So, what’s the special today?" Soobin asked, trying to keep up with your pace.

You stopped and turned to face him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. "It’s written on the board, Soobin. Right where it always is."

He glanced over at the board, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. "Ah, right. Guess I didn’t see it. Too busy looking at the pretty owner."

You rolled your eyes, suppressing the small smile that threatened to break through. "Flattery won’t get you free coffee, Soobin."

He laughed, the sound oddly infectious. "Worth a shot. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious despite your irritation. "What is it?"

"I’m planning a feature on hidden gems in Seoul for my next piece," he explained, his tone more serious now. "I was hoping to include Pages. Maybe do a little interview with you about the place?"

You blinked, taken aback by his request. "You want to feature Pages in your article? What’s your motive?"

He nodded. "No hidden agenda, I promise. This place has something special, and I think more people should know about it. Plus, it might bring in more customers."

The idea was tempting. Any publicity was good publicity, and if it brought more people to Pages, it would be worth it. But you couldn't shake off the feeling that Soobin had ulterior motives.

"I’ll think about it," you replied cautiously. "I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the spotlight."

He shrugged, unfazed. "No pressure. Just let me know. It could be fun."

You watched as he returned to his seat, wondering if agreeing to his proposal would be a mistake or an opportunity. Soobin was unpredictable, but maybe there was more to his offer than just another way to get under your skin.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of coffee orders, book recommendations, and the occasional chat with regulars. Kai left with a satisfied grin, promising to return with his friends. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the bookstore, you found yourself thinking about Soobin’s offer again.

Before you knew it, the day had ended, and you were locking up the store. The streets outside were quiet, a stark contrast to the busy day you’d had. As you turned to leave, you noticed a small note taped to the door.

"Think about the article. It could be great for Pages. - Soobin."

You sighed, pocketing the note. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was an opportunity to show Seoul what Pages had to offer. You decided to sleep on it, hoping a good night’s rest would bring clarity.

The next day, you woke up at the crack of dawn. A yawn escaped your lips as you rummaged through your bags for the keys to Pages. 

Sighing, you entered your beloved bookstore. Humming your favorite song, you unlocked the door, inhaling the aroma of the coffee beans you had meticulously selected.

“Am I your first customer today?” You spun around to see Soobin grinning. His tall stature loomed over you, and the strong smell of his cologne filled the air. The toothy grin plastered across his face was unmistakable. He wore a large sweater that hid the muscles you remembered seeing the day the A/C broke, and he had to take off his hoodie. That had been a good day.

“We’re barely open,” you answered, your voice barely a whisper from the sudden surprise of his presence.

“Well…I just couldn’t wait to hear your answer.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Soobin, it's way too early for this kind of enthusiasm."

He laughed, the sound echoing pleasantly through the empty bookstore. "Come on, just give me a hint. Are you going to let me do the interview?"

You crossed your arms, pretending to ponder. "I still need my morning coffee to think straight."

Soobin raised an eyebrow, looking at you expectantly. "I'll make a deal with you. If you say yes, I'll buy the first ten customers their coffee today."

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "Bribery now, huh?"

"Call it incentive," he replied with a wink.

You sighed, feeling your resolve waver. "Alright, fine. We can do the interview. But if you turn this place into a circus, I'll never forgive you."

Soobin's grin widened, and he pumped his fist in victory. "Deal! I promise it'll be great."

You shook your head, amused by his excitement. "Okay, okay. Let's get started before I change my mind."

As you prepared Soobin’s usual iced Americano, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

"So, where do you want to start?" you asked, handing him his drink.

Soobin took a sip, his expression thoughtful. "How about we start with you? What inspired you to open Pages?"

"Well, it was always a dream of mine. I wanted a place where people could escape, find comfort in books, and enjoy a good cup of coffee. Leaving the corporate world was scary, but this... this feels right."

He nodded, his eyes genuinely interested. "And it shows. This place has a soul, and that’s rare."

You blushed slightly, not used to such earnest compliments from him. "Thanks?"

“Not used to compliments, I see?” Soobin teased.

“Not from you.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Don't get used to it. You're still on thin ice for all those loud phone calls."

"Fair enough," he conceded, still grinning.

"You know, you're not that annoying when you're serious," you blurted out. "Sorry, that was supposed to be a thought."

"We're getting passive-aggressive," Soobin teased.

"It was supposed to be a thought," you repeated, trying to defend yourself.

"It's quite freeing to know I've had such an effect on your life," Soobin chuckled.

"Shut up," you said, rolling your eyes.

"I'm kidding. I guess I can be quite an asshole at times, but it's only because I don't know how to act around a pretty girl."

"Stop messing around," you said, feigning annoyance, though your heartbeat was telling you otherwise. "Is any part of this even in your interview notes?" you asked, gesturing to his laptop.

"Oh, no. None of it," Soobin admitted, still grinning. "Just getting to know my favorite bookstore-slash-cafe owner. Is that a crime?"

"Of course not. What's supposed to be a crime is your lack of social etiquette." You joked.

Soobin laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guilty as charged," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But I'm willing to learn if you've got some pointers."

"Maybe walk out of the store when you have a call?" You said, raising an eyebrow.

"Right." Soobin chuckled.

"So, besides the loud phone calls and my general presence, what's your biggest pet peeve about running Pages?" Soobin asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

You thought for a moment, considering how honest you wanted to be. "I guess it would be dealing with the occasional rude customer who doesn't respect the space or the books. But honestly, most people who come in are wonderful. They get what this place is about."

Soobin nodded thoughtfully. "I can see that. This place has a certain... aura. It’s like a sanctuary."

"That's exactly what I wanted it to be," you said, smiling. "A place where people can escape and just... breathe."

"So about the...'wonderful people' you're talking about, does any of those include a travel writer?" Soobin peered.

You paused, meeting Soobin's gaze. There was a playful glint in his eyes, but you could sense a genuine curiosity beneath it. "Well," you began slowly, "there's this one travel writer who likes to test my patience."

"Is he hot?" Soobin asked.

"If you consider an ogre hot, sure." You joked.

Soobin chuckled, feigning hurt, clutching his chest. "Ouch. In my defense, testing one's patience is one of my specialties. But seriously, I hope I’m not always a nuisance."

"You have your moments," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you also bring a certain... energy to this place."

"So, is that a compliment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't get too used to it," you replied, trying to hide your amusement.

As the day progressed, you and Soobin delved into the story of Pages. You talked about the challenges you faced, the joy of seeing regulars like Kai and his friends, and the special moments that made all the hard work worth it. Soobin took notes, his demeanor professional yet warm, making you feel surprisingly at ease.

You weren't going to lie, the interview made you see Soobin in a different light. He was surprisingly sexy when he was being serious. His eyebrows would furrow when trying to get information across and his posture forward almost leaning towards you.

The way he listened so intently, his focus entirely on you, made your heart flutter more than you'd like to admit. You tried to keep your composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing attraction you felt towards him.

It wasn't your fault. You had always found him incredibly attractive albeit the loud phone calls.

By the time the first customers arrived, the interview was wrapping up. Soobin stood up, a satisfied look on his face. "I think we’ve got everything we need. Thanks for trusting me with this."

You nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Just make sure you do justice to the store."

"Don’t worry," he said, flashing that familiar grin. "I’ll make sure it's perfect."

As he retreated to his seat, you felt a renewed sense of friendship. Maybe, just maybe, Soobin wasn’t as bad as you’d initially thought. Only time would tell, but for now, you were content with the decision you’d made.

It had been a few hours since the interview. Soobin was still in his usual corner, typing away, God knows what, with a serious look on his face. Holding a cup of juice in your hands, you walked toward him and placed the glass on his table.

“I didn’t order anything,” Soobin said, looking up at you.

“It’s on the house. Too much caffeine can't be good for you,” you replied, smiling awkwardly before making your way back to the counter.

As you reached the counter, you glanced back at Soobin, who had paused his typing to take a sip of the juice. He gave you a nod of appreciation, and for a moment, you felt a sense of camaraderie that was rare with him.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of regular customers and new faces, each interaction reinforcing why you loved this place so much. As closing time approached, Soobin finally packed up his things and walked over to you.

"Thanks for the juice," he said, his tone softer than usual. "I really needed that break."

It was a moment of peace before his annoying ringtone went off. He looked up at you sheepishly.

“I’ll take it outside this time,” he chuckled, walking off.

You laughed, shaking your head, and turned your attention back to your work. Glancing to your left, you noticed the large pile of rubbish that hadn’t been thrown away. You groaned at the thought of lugging it into the alley. Pulling the large bag of rubbish out from behind the counter, you made your way to the back alley.

“Yeah. I’ve done the interview.” You heard Soobin’s voice echo from the back of the alley.

“Yeah. I think it’ll do great. The article. She’s got some solid work ethic and the cafe itself is a really good idea. Her thoughts are well articulated. The article's gonna be great.”

You smiled at the compliments, assuming he was talking about you. Your cheeks heated up from listening into the conversation. You felt bad for eavesdropping but this was precious information you could use to your advantage.

“Oh? What? The owner? Nah, she’s a little bit pretentious. What? Pretty? She's okay, I guess. She… she’s not that pretty in real life. The picture was doing her justice.”

Your smile faded instantly, your heart sinking at his words. You quickly turned back, dragging the bag of rubbish with a renewed sense of determination, refusing to let his words affect you.

As you heaved the bag into the dumpster, you couldn't help but replay Soobin's words in your mind. Anger and hurt mingled, forming a bitter taste in your mouth. You had always suspected he enjoyed pushing your buttons, but hearing such harsh comments felt like a betrayal especially after the interview where you felt like you had bonded with him.

Returning to the store, you busied yourself with closing duties, trying to shake off the sting of his remarks. You were scrubbing the counter with more force than necessary when you heard the door chime. You looked up to see Soobin, who had finished his call, walking back in.

"Everything okay?" he asked, noticing the change in your demeanor.

"Yeah, just finishing up," you replied curtly, not wanting to engage further.

Soobin frowned, sensing something was off. "Did something happen?"

“No and even if it did, what makes you think I’d confide into a loud pompous asshole?” You gritted your teeth, turning away from him, your ponytail smacking him in his face.

“Fucking he- Ouch!" He rubbed his cheeks from where your ponytail had smacked him. "What? What’s going on with you? I thought we were cool?”

"Cool?" you repeated, your voice rising in pitch. "You think we're cool after everything you've said and done?"

Soobin looked genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

“Nothing. You’re right. I’m pretentious. And maybe I’m not that attractive to you but to hear you say that to another person? Wow.” 

Soobin's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Wait, you heard that?" he said, taking a step back. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it, Soobin?" you demanded, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. "Because it sounded pretty clear to me."

“You don’t understand,” Soobin said, his frustration evident.

“What don’t I understand?”

“That was my editor.”

“Okay?”

“His name’s Yeonjun. He’s a good-looking and decent guy.” He explained, even thought you were still clearly ever so clueless.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He was asking for your number. He saw the picture I took of you for the article and thought you looked cute.”

“And?” You looked at him dumbfounded.

Soobin rubbed the back of his neck, looking flustered. “Je- I- Fuck. I didn’t want him to know how cool you were.”

“What?”

“Look, you’re cute. You’re my type. You’re all kinds of pretty. But you’re also someone I kind of want to gatekeep.”

“What?”

“I can’t make this clearer even if I tried,” Soobin said, his voice softer now. “I like you, okay? I didn’t want him to get to know you because I’m selfish. I wanted you all to myself.”

Soobin's admission left you momentarily speechless. "Oh," you managed to say, your mind racing to process his words.

"Yeah, oh," Soobin echoed, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just... I don't know, being stupid and jealous."

"If it makes you feel any better, I, too, find you..." You paused, "Cute."

Soobin's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Really?" he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I always knew you had good taste."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "Don't get too full of yourself, Soobin."

He took a step closer, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, come on. Admit it. You find my charm irresistible. It’s okay, most people do."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re impossible."

"So, how about we start over?" Soobin suggested, his tone playful yet sincere. "As friends, or maybe something more. I promise I'll only annoy you half as much."

"Only half?" you teased, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

"Alright, a quarter," he conceded with a wink. "And I’ll take my phone calls outside. Most of the time."

You couldn’t help but smile at his persistence. Despite everything, there was something undeniably magnetic about Soobin. "Deal. But if you ever call me pretentious again, I won’t hesitate to throw you out of my store."

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Fair enough. But just so you know, I’ve been told my obnoxiousness is part of my charm."

"By whom?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"By people with excellent taste," he said with a smirk.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of joy and mischief. "So, you like me?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice steady now. "I like you a lot. And I'm sorry if what I said made you think otherwise."

You bit your lip, contemplating his confession. "Well, you could have just told me."

"I know," he admitted, looking down at his feet. "I guess I was scared you'd reject me or think I was just messing with you."

“Well…can you blame me? You're quite the comedian sometimes.” You chuckled.

"Y'know what I don't blame you if you did doubt me."

"Really now?"

“Yeah. I get it. I'm kind of an asshole. But it's only because I like your reactions. They're pretty, um," Soobin stopped. "Charming, I'd say."

"So you think I'm charming?" You teased.

Soobin looked up, catching the playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah, well, when you spend as much time together as we do, you pick up on things. Like how your eyes light up when the new books arrive or when Kai tells you a stupid joke, and you tilt your head back to laugh, then get self-conscious and cover your mouth as if half the cafe hasn't heard your snort."

You laughed softly, feeling the remaining tension dissipate. “Okay, maybe you do know me better than I thought. You're quite the observer, aren't you, Soobin?"

"When you're a writer like me, you tend to observe things that are...more enchanting."

"Enchanting, huh. Big pretty words don't impress me, Soobin." You teased.

"I love a challenge," Soobin replied, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. "And let's be honest, how hard can it be to impress you?"

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-irritated. "Don't get too cocky, Soobin. Just because you can string a few sentences together doesn’t mean you can charm everyone."

"Is that so?" Soobin leaned in closer, his confidence palpable. "I seem to remember you admitting you find me attractive. Sounds like I've already charmed you."

"Attractive, maybe," you shot back. "But charm? That's a stretch."

"If only you were as nice as you are an asshole," You rolled your eyes.

Soobin laughed, the sound rich and unapologetically self-assured. "Nice guys finish last, don't they?" he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "We'll see if arrogance gets you anywhere."

He shrugged, unbothered by your challenge. "It got me this far. Why change a winning strategy?"

"Winning?" you scoffed. "The game hasn't even started."

Soobin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Then consider tonight the first round. I'll pick you up at seven."

"Still assuming I’m free?" you countered, trying to maintain your composure.

"Aren't you?" Soobin's confidence faltered for a split second, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. There it was. Though, Soobin, was trying his best to look like a go-getter, the most confident man alive, he felt like he was still just a shy little boy in front of his crush.

"Actually," you said, your tone softening slightly, "I might be."

He looked at you, a bit more serious now. "Look, if you're not interested, just say so. I can handle it."

"I didn't say anything. I was just waiting for an apology. Y'know from the time you lied to your friend? Calling me pretentious? Ugly?"

"I never used the word ugly."

You raised an eyebrow. "That's what you’re focusing on? Really?"

Soobin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I admit it. I might have said some things that weren't exactly fair. It was on impulse. You do stupid shit when you like someone. I'm stupid. I'm an idiot. I don't...I've never liked someone before or asked someone out. Cut me some slack." You see his confidence being brought down by a peg every second he further explains himself. “I’m sorry.”

You chuckled, "Gosh, you really do like me, huh?"

"Fuck off. You're just as pompous as I am."

"It's a part of the charm, isn't it?"

“Sure,” Soobin said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “so, are we good now?”

You nodded, the warmth in his eyes melting the last of your anger. “Yeah, we’re good.”

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, seeming much more serious than he had been just a minute ago. “Good. Look despite, all the jokes I'm cracking, despite, how much of an asshole I've been, I actually really like you. I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend, and not as something more."

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Something more, huh? We’ll see about that.”

Soobin grinned, the mischievous spark you were used to back in his eyes. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “Okay, Mr. Talks-too-loud. Let’s finish up here and see if you can impress me over dinner.”

“Challenge accepted.”

[snovaness]

cookies, necklaces and pigtails

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol bf!jiung x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: (very self indulgent) flufffffff

♡ summary: jiung, the ever-loving, sweet boyfriend, meets your extended family for the first time. whilst the rest of the family has reservations against him, your four year old cousin is already a huge fan (read: he may or may not have promised her chocolate chip cookies).

♡ word count: 2,327 words

♡ a/n: thank you sooo much to @hyungseos-cafe for making the moodboard that inspired this :))

//

The sun was shining warmly on the well-kept garden beyond the kitchen windows, providing the roses and herbs your aunt tenderly cared for with some much-needed light to grow and flourish. Your head rested on your palms, watching a stray butterfly breeze past before stopping to admire the white roses. You knew you should’ve been paying attention, but your aunt has been going on and on since the mains were served, so you let her faux-saccharine words slip past you: in one ear, out the other.

You tried to subtly twist your head around in search of your boyfriend, but you didn’t have to look too hard – Jiung stuck out like a sore thumb. His bleached, grey hair bobbing up and down as he helped your mother with the dishes, sleeves of his freshly steamed jacket rolled to expose his lithe, veiny forearms. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and he flashed you an apologetic smile, wordlessly urging you to return your attention to your aunt. After all, he was always the more sensible, responsible and mature one out of the two of you. The exchange only lasted a few seconds though, before his attention was pulled away by your mother. You only caught a glimpse, but you could tell your boyfriend was listening attentively to her, respectfully nodding at all the right places and providing insightful answers. He was such an angel.

Your attention was torn away by your aunt. “Y/N,” she called your name sternly and you cringed. Even your mother had stopped using that particular tone on you years ago.

“Hmm?”

“Are you even listening? Daydreaming again, aren’t you?” She sighed, as though you had dragged your family’s honour through the mud, yet again. “First, you take a break from school. Now, you’re dating that boy? Tell me, are you even serious about him?”

“Imo!”

“Don’t Imo me! I’m asking because it’s what everyone else wants to know as well. They’re just too afraid to ask you about it. So? What’s your answer?”

It was your turn to sigh this time, rolling your eyes for added effect. Why did your family always have to be like this? “Yes, I’m serious! What makes you think I’m not?”

Your aunt tsked in response. “Young love. You will understand when you’re older. You think love will last forever, just because he promised you the world, then one day he wakes up and realises that actually, he doesn’t love you anymore. These things never last, Y/N. Trust me – especially not when they look like that.”

You had to summon all your willpower to not react impulsively in a physical way, fists coming under the kitchen bench to ball into tight fists. Why on earth were your relatives treating your boyfriend with such disrespect when all he ever did since stepping past those doors was be respectful and helpful and friendly? He even went above and beyond by insisting on buying pastries for dessert, to help set up the picnic tables outside and was even washing the dishes. You were fuming on his behalf. “Thanks… for the advice, Imo. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” You gritted your teeth, pushing the words out your mouth as you spun quickly on the balls of your feet, eager to get out of the conversation before you said something you couldn’t take back.

On the way to the bathroom, you spotted your boyfriend wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as your mother busied herself with arranging dessert. You hurriedly informed her that you were stealing your boyfriend from her as you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in the direction of the entertainment room.

Your boyfriend complied easily, knowing that something was up the moment you stepped foot into the house. Family was always a touchy subject for you, he knew that much. You got along well with your parents, especially since moving out. Being an only child, the distance certainly helped prevent you from getting smothered by your parents’ love and attention. However, your extended family was a whole different story. Today was the annual family gathering to get your mum’s side of the family together, and you dreaded it every year, like clockwork. Having moved out of the bubble your mum’s family grew up in when you were in primary school, you found it more and more challenging with each passing year to relate to any of your relatives. You found it even harder to put up with their neverending nosiness and nagging.

You’d been to this house many times since your infancy. You knew that as the adults gathered around the dining table and kitchen area, the kids preferred to play amongst themselves outdoors in the garden, leaving the rest of the spacious house empty. 

You breathed an audible sigh of relief as the two of you entered the empty entertainment room hand in hand. You turned around, launching into a rant, “Jiung, I’m so sorry – I know I warned you, but I should’ve seen this coming. It’s just, they’re so, urgh! They’re so annoying! This happens every single year. If it’s not – how did you do in school, it’s – which university did you apply to or what major are you studying. Then it was – what do you do for work, and do you have a boyfriend, or when are you getting married, just…” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, fingers pinching your nose bridge and closing your eyes to compose yourself, trying to contain your frustration. 

As you took several deep breaths, you felt your boyfriend snake his arms around you, his familiar scent mixed with aftershave infiltrating your senses. You could even make out the faint aroma of chocolate chip cookies lingering on his clothes, the aftermath of his brief baking session with your mother. You could feel your tense limbs loosen slightly.

“Y/N,” He said your name, and it made your legs feel like the green and red bits of Jell-O resting in the fridge, waiting to be devoured by your kid cousins. You felt yourself melt even more in his arms as he lightly pressed his pillowy lips against your forehead. “It’s fine, really.”

“But…” You replied in nothing more than a mere whisper. “I feel bad… We were meant to have a relaxing long weekend away at my parents’, who, by the way,” your fingers came to play with the silver necklace hanging around his slim neck out of habit. “Thank goodness – are perfectly normal. How could I forget that we had to visit the rest of the family this weekend?” You huffed, lips forming into what Jiung thought was the most irresistible pout. You were clearly disappointed that your weekend away had not gone as you imagined.

“It’s definitely okay. Besides,” He paused to tug your bottom lip out of the pout and tuck your fringe behind your ears. “I like making cookies. And your mum and I make a good dishwashing team.” Jiung gave you one of his smiles, the ones that make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy, and you couldn’t help but return it with a gummy smile of your own. He always seemed to have this sort of effect on you, always able to disarm your short fuse and bring you back down to earth with a warm touch and a tender smile.

“Eonnie!”

“Oh?” The two of you have never pulled away so fast, basically separating from each other at the speed of light. 

“Looks like we have a visitor.” Jiung announced, turning towards the entrance to find your youngest cousin, a little four year-old girl dressed in a pink princess dress and pigtails. “Hello, little one.”

“Oppa!” You could tell the little girl, Haeun, was way more interested in playing with your boyfriend than you. “Cookies!” That must’ve been why. Jiung told her he was baking cookies with your mum after family lunch, which clearly piqued her interest.

“They’re not ready yet, little one. Do you want other desserts instead? We chopped up some fruit earlier as well.” Jiung replied in a soft voice that was gentler and sweeter than usual. You smiled, watching as he lowered himself to her height, approaching her with a tiny wave, which she returned.

“No fruit, I want cookies.” She replied adamantly.

“I see stubbornness runs in the family.” Jiung teased under his breath, soft enough only for your ears. You laughed in response as you looked around for something to preoccupy your baby cousin. It was an entertainment room after all, surely there would be some books, or a soft toy…

“What’s that?” Haeun asked, curious.

“What’s what?” Jiung replied, now sitting cross-legged next to the girl. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. It seemed like your youngest cousin had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger.

“This one, it’s shiny!” She took a few quick steps towards him before collapsing and melting into his outstretched arms, fingers coming to grab at the sparkly pendant of his necklace.

It was your second anniversary gift. Jiung had always liked jewellery, and would occasionally talk about how he’d always wanted to wear more accessories but didn’t know how or where to start curating pieces to match his outfits. You offered up your own collection of silvers and golds, but opted to get him a silver necklace when he graduated from borrowing your rings and necklaces (in reality, he had misplaced one too many chains and you were starting to run low) – his had a silver sun pendant, while yours was a matching gold. 

“Oh, this?” He glanced down at the pendant. “It’s a sun. Y/N has a matching one. She got it for me as a present.”

“Bingo!” You cheered as you found a bunch of crayons held together with hair ties and a few pieces of paper (you didn’t question it, knowing that your aunt had two toddlers herself which threatened her vision of running the perfect, tidy household). “Do you want to draw a necklace for yourself, Haeun?”

She nodded happily, running over to you and plopping down on the floor. The three of you gathered together and began to pick out your favourite crayon colours. As you settled on drawing and colouring, you pretended to hide your artworks from each other if one of you dared to sneak a glance at the other’s, leading to several fits of laughs and giggles.

Haeun, ever the observant child, noticed that your boyfriend kept having to brush his hair away from his face while his lanky body was hunched over his drawing. She reached out with grabby hands and tried to comb chunks of his silvery locks into a makeshift ponytail. 

You could see her vision, and couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet interaction. “Here, let me help.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend looked up at the two of you, slightly confused.

It wasn’t like it was his first rodeo. You often held his hair back with a headband before cooking or washing his face, and sometimes tied his hair up for him when he was busy doing work. With Haeun working on one side and you on the other, you two girls fashioned Jiung’s hair into two (slightly mismatched) pigtails.

After a few more minutes of silent colouring, “I’m done!” Haeun declared, setting down her crayon. She held out her masterpiece, exhibiting it excitedly to you and your boyfriend. “See, it’s us!”

Indeed, your baby cousin had drawn you and your boyfriend, holding hands, and a little girl next to them, in a pink dress much like the one she was currently wearing. All three of you had bunny-looking ears, presumably to match the pigtails, and matching necklaces. You and Jiung showed her your artwork, but unanimously agreed that Haeun’s was the best out of the three. You made a mental note to go necklace shopping for her later today.

“Haeun! Haeun?” The voice of her mother, your younger (and favourite) aunt, filtered through the hallways.

“She’s in here!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you were outsi – Oh!” Your aunt stood at the doorway, pleasantly surprised at how well-behaved her active daughter was. “You got her to sit down. Great job guys!”

“Look, mummy! We drew some pictures!” Haeun ran towards her mother’s feet, passing her the drawing before hugging her feet.

“Wow, you did a great job, sweetie! Are those necklaces?”

“Yes, oppa said eonnie gave it to him as a present.”

The two of you stole glances at each other, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Did she? Well, your Y/N eonnie must like Jiung oppa very much. Speaking of which,” Your younger aunt turns towards you and Jiung. “I think she’s disturbed the two of you enough now. I’ll distract her with some cookies so you two can get some alone time.” She flashed a knowing smile, and you had to fight the urge to combust in embarrassment.

“We had lots of fun playing with her, imo.”

“Oh, I see she’s done your hair too! And the necklaces, you’re wearing them. Ah, young love,” She sighed wistfully. “How adorable.”

“Cookies! Mummy, I want cookies!”

//

epilogue.

“So, how many do you want?” Jiung asked under his breath, feigning nonchalance whilst his lips worked itself into a sheepish grin.

“How many what?” You asked, distracted. You were trying to find the covers for takeaway containers amongst the pile of dishes.

“Kids, of course.”

A soft clang echoed throughout the now-empty kitchen as you dropped the empty container. Your cheeks reddened so much that when Jiung turned around to check on you after a long silence, he had to cool them down with his hands, which were freezing cold from handling the ice box.

“Too soon?” He couldn’t help but tease, chuckling to himself at your stunned expression.

You nodded.

After a few beats, you whispered, “two, maybe.”

[snovaness]

Just Us | Choi Yeonjun One Shot

Summary: Yeonjun wants you to notice him but you think you're just his Noona Pairing: Noona reader x Yeonjun f2l Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: No real warnings just cute needy flirty Yeonjun. a/n: Okay I'm so so sorry to my adorable anon that sent me this request a few weeks ago. Life has gotten hectic but I made this one a little longer as an apology :( I hope you like it! Also barely edited but I just wanted to get it out asap!

"Y/n, come over here, I want to show you something" Yeonjun says, calling out my name from across the room. We're at our friend's house just wasting the day away today, trying to stay out of the cold. "What's up?" I ask, sitting down next to him on the couch and looking at his phone screen. "There's a big winter festival coming up a couple towns over, look they have ice skating and holiday foods and even some vendors selling some of the cute figurines you like" he says flipping through the post and pointing out every little thing, hoping to entice me. 

"Oh wow that looks so cute! Hey guys look, Yeonjun found a cute festival for us to go to!" I say excited at the thought of all of us going together. "That looks so fun!" Kai says. "Let's for sure all go!" Beomgyu chimes in. "I'm down" Taehyun agrees. "Well if all of you are going I guess I've gotta come too" Soobin laughs. "Oh, um yeah let's all go" Yeonjun says, looking like he's lost all the enthusiasm he had moments ago. 

"Is everything alright?" I ask turning my attention back to him, leaving the excited chatter to the rest of the guys. "Yeah, no I'm fine don't worry about it" he says giving me a sideways smile. "I think I'm gonna head out guys" he says getting up from the couch and straightening out his clothes. "Wait really?" the guys ask and I look up at him confused. "Yeah I've got a final tomorrow so I've gotta get back to studying. "Oh I forgot about that! Would you mind if we studied together?" I ask looking up at him, now having his attention. "Sure" he replies and waits for me to grab my stuff. 

"You guys gonna be okay? It's coming down really hard out there" Soobin asks taking a look outside the window, seeing how much snow has fallen since we last checked. "We'll be fine don't worry. My dorm is just down the street so it'll only take us a few minutes to get there. You're okay if we study at my place right?" I ask looking up at him. "Oh I'm more than okay with that" he responds with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Okay..." I respond dragging out the last syllable not really understanding his response. 

"We'll see you later guys" I say after Yeonjun helped me put my coat on. "Let me take your bag" he says and takes it from me. "No Yeonjun that's heavy" I say trying to get ahold of the bag full of books I had just bought before I came here, not bothering to make an extra stop to drop them off at home. "And that's exactly why I should be carrying it. But if it makes you feel any better you could hold my hand to help guide me. It'll be difficult for me to make sure your books stay dry as well as making sure to watch my step" he says taking a hold of my hand after we walk out the door. 

"How does that even make sense?" I question, not really understanding his logic. "Do you want both me and your books to fall and get all wet from the snow?" he asks tilting his head to look at me. "Well, no" I say with my brows still scrunched together in confusion. "Then just hold my hand and lead the way" he says now opting to lace our fingers together instead of just holding it. I look up questioning him yet again. "So it's easier to hold onto" he says raising a brow at me and opts to take charge and head towards my dorm room with me now trailing behind him before he slows down a bit allowing me the opportunity to fall in step with him.

"So where should we start? Have you already studied a bit or are you starting off fresh?" I ask as I clear off some extra space on my desk for him to work on. "I've been looking at it off and on but I'm good to start wherever you want" he says sitting down next to me while also scooting a bit closer. He sees how I nonverbally question his proximity and laughs a bit at my slightly stiffened posture. "I left my textbook at home so..." he says trailing off looking at me apologetically. "Well I was the one who suggested studying here so that's okay" I say now understanding his motives and scooting the book over so we can share it. 

We study for a bit and I feel his place his arm around the back of my chair but decide not to mention it this time but a few minutes later he starts to lean closer and so I finally break off my sentence to scold him. "Are you even listening to me?" I ask turning to look at him, his face looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "Of course, it's just hard to see the fine print so I wanted to scoot in a bit closer" he says now purposefully cuddling in close and resting his chin on my shoulder. 

"Yeonjun you know I hate physical touch right?" I say feeling a bit uncomfortable at the suddenly cozy atmosphere created because of him. "But you don't hate it with me right? We're best friends, plus your room is freezing" he says now shivering a bit. "Really? I was thinking it was getting pretty warm in here" I say before he turns my computer chair around and leads me over to my bed. "Let's just relax for a while. We deserve a break" he says and brings my laptop over with us so we can, what I assume is watch a movie of some sort. 

"It's barely been 45 minutes" I say standing next to the bed with my arms crossed, not amused with his distractions, but he'll hear none of it. "Come on let's watch a Christmas movie together, we haven't gotten a chance to do that yet" he whines, scrolling through the list of movies they have. "We just watched a movie with the guys like two hours ago" I say raising an eyebrow at him, thinking he should probably get check for some sort of short term memory loss. 

"Yeah but we haven't gotten the chance to do it, with just the two of us. I want to watch a movie with my best friend, what's the harm in that?" he says pleading with me and giving me those puppy dog eyes that honestly I can hardly resist sometimes. "Fine, but just one!" I say setting the ground rules "We still need to make sure to get at least an hour or two of studying in, otherwise I'll just kick you out right now. Deal?" I question holding out my hand for him to shake. "Deal" he says and takes my hand, using it to pull me onto the bed with him and wraps his arm around me when I finally settle into place. 

"What are you doing?" I say sitting up to look at him properly. "What? I'm cold" he says, now confused with my behavior. "I have more blankets" I say standing up to walk towards the basket full of them and hand him one. "That's still not warm enough" he complains, he's not usually like this I think to myself so I decide to place the back of my hand on his forehead. "What are you doing?" he says laughing at my face scrunched in concentration for a moment. "Checking to see if you have a fever, but it looks like you're fine" I say. pulling my hand away, intending to grab my thermometer. 

"Where are you going" he whines, watching me walk over to the bathroom, dragging out the last syllable. "I'm going to take your temperature just in case you're actually sick and could possibly be contagious" I say, soon returning with said thermometer. "You sai-" he starts but I place it under his tongue before he tries to continue and he automatically closes him mouth around it, preventing the possibility of making him gag. 

"Put that under your tongue" I order, hoping to get a clear reading on the first try. "I kno-" "And stop talking or we'll have to do it again" I order and he quiets at that, hoping to get back to picking out a movie for us. Once the thermometer beeps I pull it out and it shows me that he's actually a few degrees colder than the typical 98.6. I turn it towards him to show him and he looks up at me with an almost triumphant gaze, "Told you I was cold" and he again ends up pulling me in by my wrist now causing me to fall into his chest. 

"Oops, my bad" he says before I can look back up at him, losing my patience more and more. I lean back intending to scold him but get surprised at how close he is to me, feeling a sudden intimate tension growing behind his eyes. "Y/n" he says in a low tone, his eyes flickering down to my lips for a second. "F-fine let's just watch a movie" I say instantly pulling back halfway through my sentence and take that opportunity to quickly sit next to him. 

He clears his throat and I glance over and see him offering to share the blanket with me and I just end up taking it, hoping to avoid any other conflicts. "You wanna watch this one?" he ask, selecting a random one that I don't really care to comment on, hoping we can just start the movie to dissolve any weirdness that was just created. He thankfully starts it off without another word and we both keep our eyes somewhat trained on the screen though out half of it, not really saying much before he starts to comment on how cheesy the romance is. 

"Oh come on, who still uses that stupid yawn trick to just put your arm around the girl. Like..." he say but trails off as he demonstrates it, letting out an exaggerated yawn and stretches his arms out and lands one right behind me, yet again holding me close to him. "Yeah it's pretty stupid" I say and wait for him to bring his arm back over to his side but he makes no moves to do so and simply goes back to watching the movie. 

"Yeonjun?" I question trying to get his attention. "Huh?" he lets out, barely sparing me a glance "Aren't you gonna?" I question motioning to the hand he's placed lightly on my shoulder. "What? It's comfortable" he says and pays no mind to how awkward I feel. I decide to ultimately just deal with it and focus on the movie as much as possible and I soon get lost in it, not noticing the fact that I start to lean into him a bit more, subconsciously feeling more comfortable being in his embrace.

As the movie wraps up I get a little emotional seeing how the characters ended up together after all that they went through to get there and Yeonjun starts to notice my sniffles. "Hey, are you okay?" he says now leaning forward and angling his face down a little bit to try and catch my gaze.

"Yeah" I say between the sniffles that have started to get a little worse. "Come here" he says and pulls me in for an embrace that I surprisingly don't hate this time. he ends up scooting us both down a bit so we're now fully laying down and I hide my face in his chest to avoid him seeing the tears. 

"You feeling a bit better?" he questions, continuing to rub my back. The times when I'm upset are when I don't really mind being held like this, and he's been there to comfort me a few times so this is somewhat normal for us. I nod my head but refuse to bring my face back up, knowing how swollen my eyes are gonna be. "Did something happen?" he questions, hoping to know what it really was that I was crying about. "Nothing really, school has just been really stressful these days" I say while trying to steady my breathing. 

"But you're one of the smartest people I know" he says, confused as to what might be bothering me. "Really? Then why is it that I've had to take a class that I was meant to complete in freshmen year three times? Like do you know how embarrassing that is?" I say, getting frustrated with myself. "That's a really hard class though" he says trying to make me feel a bit better.

"But you're a freshman and you're doing even better than I am" I say, embarrassed that as a Junior I'm having to ask him to study with me and explain things to me that I don't understand, which is a lot. "I like helping you though" he says and I decide to sit up now, feeling too upset to try to relax anymore. 

"But you shouldn't have to, I should've gotten this down already, It's required for my major and I have to pass it this time or it could push back my graduation date and-" "Noona" he interrupts, catching me off guard at how he's almost scolded me with what is meant to be a term of respect. "I thought I told you not to call me that" I say feeling a bit breathless, knowing how much that term affects me. "I don't care, I just know that that's what get's you to shut up for a bit so let me just say this. You are incredibly smart and strong and I respect you so much, and it makes me sad seeing how much you beat yourself up about every little thing. Plus I hate it when you cry, but you always look so pretty when you do" he says tucking a strand of hair behind my ear making my breath hitch. 

"I- what?" I say somehow flustered by his simple words. "I said, you look so pretty when you cry Noona" he says now bringing a hand up to caress my face and brushes away a tear. He takes that time to glance down at my lips again and I notice how close he's already gotten to me and I take in a sharp breath as he leans in closer but he stops right before our lips can touch. "I won't do it if you don't want me to" he whispers, warm breath fanning my face almost ghosting his lips over mine. I take a second to think and he says in place and waits for my move but as I decide to lean in a bit he leans back. 

"Words Noona" he says in a deeper voice, laced with a hint of dominance that catches me off guard. "I want you to" I reply softly and he takes that as a green light and leans in to kiss me before I have the chance to change my mind. It's nothing rushed or forceful but it's a kiss that full of longing, a kiss that feels like it should've happened long ago. We lock our lips together for what feels like only moments and before I can start to move my lips against his he pulls away. I lean in, almost chasing his lips which leaves him smiling against mine. 

"What are you doing?" I whisper, confused as to why he's stopped. "Just checking to see how much you want this" he says and before I have a chance to answer he connects our lips again, now moving his against mine, still not forceful but a bit deeper, showing a touch of urgency to keep going. He lies back down but makes it a point to keep his hand on the nape of my neck, pulling me back down with him, giving me the option to pull away when I want to. 

He does however trail his hand down my waist past my hip and brings one of my thighs over helping me straddle him which I surprisingly go along with leaving me to be the one wanting to deepen the kiss, me the one full of longing, longing for him.          

 "Hey y/n come here!" Beomgyu calls over to me, wanting me to come see the different wood carvings they have but before I'm able to leave I feel Yeonjun taking hold of my hand, again lacing our fingers together. "What are you doing?" I question, clearly having shown interest in joining Beomgyu. "Stay with me I want to show you the stall with the little glass figurines I pointed out to you before" he says dragging me along down the path. I look over at Beomgyu with an apologetic smile and follow Yeonjun. 

"You could've just showed me afterwards" I say shaking my head at his almost possessive nature. "We were already over here" he says, making excuses for his behavior but I follow him none the less, not wanting to give him an opportunity to pout. Once we do reach the stall though I am blown away by all the cute glass animals. I walk further into the stall and give a shallow bow to the stall owner and go up to their table to take a closer look. 

"These are beautiful" I say looking over them, taking an interest in the koi fish, seeing although an inanimate object how much life and movement was breathed into it. I take a look at the price and see that it's a little out of my price range and place it back looking to opt for a smaller version which I do but instead of a koi I go with a fox. I bow thanking the stall keeper and soon make my way onto the next one with Yeonjun trailing behind me trying to catch up. 

"What took you so long?" I question watching him jog up to me. "I got stuck looking at some of the knives down there" he explains. "You could've stopped me so we could look together" I say tilting my head, confused by his actions. "No it's okay it looked like you had your eye on something else so I didn't want to interrupt you" I look down at the bag he's now carrying looking somewhat suspicious. "That's a pretty big box for a knife" I comment, narrowing my eyes at him, knowing he probably got me that koi fish, thinking I wouldn't notice. "It came with the supplies to clean it as well" he says and quickly grabs my hand and leads us further along to look at the other venders making a loop around until we reach the last stall, the one that Beomgyu had called me over to. 

"Took you long enough" he says, standing up from a nearby bench. "Yeonjun wanted to check out a few more stalls over there, sorry" I say before walking closer to the stall with Yeonjun just a step behind me still having a hold on my hand. "Oh" I hear Beomgyu say. "Huh?" I respond to his sudden voice of confusion. "Oh nothing I just remembered I was going to meet Taehyun by the food stalls. You guys want anything?" he asks making eye contact with the both of us. "Nah that's okay we'll go later" Yeonjun answers for the both of us which I decide to go along with. "Alright" he says making an interesting face at Yeonjun before scurrying off to meet up with Taehyun. 

"You've been acting weird with all of the guys today" I say turning to face him fully. "What do you mean?" he questions still watching Beomgyu to almost make sure that he's actually leaving. "I mean you've been trying to keep me away from them all day. I have hardly spoken a word to any of them" I say waiting for an explanation. "You wanna know why?" he says making purposeful eye contact with me to which I just nod my head and keep that same eye contact but suddenly for a different reason. He leans down a bit and brings his face closer to mine like he had done a few days ago in my room and I feel like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. 

"Because this was supposed to be a date before you invited everyone else to come" he whispers, glancing down at my lips for only a second before bringing them back to my eyes, regaining that shared stare. "Oh..." I trail off, now realizing why he reacted the way that he did that day. "Yeah, so you're gonna stick by me Noona because I don't want you to go around flirting with them right in front of me anymore" he says now coming in closer and nudging his nose against mine, not really kissing me but close enough to be able to. "I don't flirt with them" I say scrunching my eyebrows at him in defense. 

"Sure, let's say that" he says and places a quick kiss on my lips that's gone before I can even register it, leaving me having to rush after him as he walks away so I don't get lost. "We're not dating you know" I say pouting when I reach him. "I know" he says and continues to make his way towards the food stalls. "So you can't keep kissing me like we are" I say confused as to why I should have to explain it to him then. "It's practice" he says plainly. "Practice for what?" I say even more puzzled. 

"For when I ask you to be my girlfriend" he says and runs away now really making me run after him. "Choi Yeonjun get back here" and all that can be heard is his mischievous laughter and for some reason I can't help but laugh right along with him, nervous for when that day might come. 

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[snovaness]

Just Us | Choi Yeonjun One Shot

Summary: Yeonjun wants you to notice him but you think you're just his Noona Pairing: Noona reader x Yeonjun f2l Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: No real warnings just cute needy flirty Yeonjun. a/n: Okay I'm so so sorry to my adorable anon that sent me this request a few weeks ago. Life has gotten hectic but I made this one a little longer as an apology :( I hope you like it! Also barely edited but I just wanted to get it out asap!

"Y/n, come over here, I want to show you something" Yeonjun says, calling out my name from across the room. We're at our friend's house just wasting the day away today, trying to stay out of the cold. "What's up?" I ask, sitting down next to him on the couch and looking at his phone screen. "There's a big winter festival coming up a couple towns over, look they have ice skating and holiday foods and even some vendors selling some of the cute figurines you like" he says flipping through the post and pointing out every little thing, hoping to entice me. 

"Oh wow that looks so cute! Hey guys look, Yeonjun found a cute festival for us to go to!" I say excited at the thought of all of us going together. "That looks so fun!" Kai says. "Let's for sure all go!" Beomgyu chimes in. "I'm down" Taehyun agrees. "Well if all of you are going I guess I've gotta come too" Soobin laughs. "Oh, um yeah let's all go" Yeonjun says, looking like he's lost all the enthusiasm he had moments ago. 

"Is everything alright?" I ask turning my attention back to him, leaving the excited chatter to the rest of the guys. "Yeah, no I'm fine don't worry about it" he says giving me a sideways smile. "I think I'm gonna head out guys" he says getting up from the couch and straightening out his clothes. "Wait really?" the guys ask and I look up at him confused. "Yeah I've got a final tomorrow so I've gotta get back to studying. "Oh I forgot about that! Would you mind if we studied together?" I ask looking up at him, now having his attention. "Sure" he replies and waits for me to grab my stuff. 

"You guys gonna be okay? It's coming down really hard out there" Soobin asks taking a look outside the window, seeing how much snow has fallen since we last checked. "We'll be fine don't worry. My dorm is just down the street so it'll only take us a few minutes to get there. You're okay if we study at my place right?" I ask looking up at him. "Oh I'm more than okay with that" he responds with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Okay..." I respond dragging out the last syllable not really understanding his response. 

"We'll see you later guys" I say after Yeonjun helped me put my coat on. "Let me take your bag" he says and takes it from me. "No Yeonjun that's heavy" I say trying to get ahold of the bag full of books I had just bought before I came here, not bothering to make an extra stop to drop them off at home. "And that's exactly why I should be carrying it. But if it makes you feel any better you could hold my hand to help guide me. It'll be difficult for me to make sure your books stay dry as well as making sure to watch my step" he says taking a hold of my hand after we walk out the door. 

"How does that even make sense?" I question, not really understanding his logic. "Do you want both me and your books to fall and get all wet from the snow?" he asks tilting his head to look at me. "Well, no" I say with my brows still scrunched together in confusion. "Then just hold my hand and lead the way" he says now opting to lace our fingers together instead of just holding it. I look up questioning him yet again. "So it's easier to hold onto" he says raising a brow at me and opts to take charge and head towards my dorm room with me now trailing behind him before he slows down a bit allowing me the opportunity to fall in step with him.

"So where should we start? Have you already studied a bit or are you starting off fresh?" I ask as I clear off some extra space on my desk for him to work on. "I've been looking at it off and on but I'm good to start wherever you want" he says sitting down next to me while also scooting a bit closer. He sees how I nonverbally question his proximity and laughs a bit at my slightly stiffened posture. "I left my textbook at home so..." he says trailing off looking at me apologetically. "Well I was the one who suggested studying here so that's okay" I say now understanding his motives and scooting the book over so we can share it. 

We study for a bit and I feel his place his arm around the back of my chair but decide not to mention it this time but a few minutes later he starts to lean closer and so I finally break off my sentence to scold him. "Are you even listening to me?" I ask turning to look at him, his face looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "Of course, it's just hard to see the fine print so I wanted to scoot in a bit closer" he says now purposefully cuddling in close and resting his chin on my shoulder. 

"Yeonjun you know I hate physical touch right?" I say feeling a bit uncomfortable at the suddenly cozy atmosphere created because of him. "But you don't hate it with me right? We're best friends, plus your room is freezing" he says now shivering a bit. "Really? I was thinking it was getting pretty warm in here" I say before he turns my computer chair around and leads me over to my bed. "Let's just relax for a while. We deserve a break" he says and brings my laptop over with us so we can, what I assume is watch a movie of some sort. 

"It's barely been 45 minutes" I say standing next to the bed with my arms crossed, not amused with his distractions, but he'll hear none of it. "Come on let's watch a Christmas movie together, we haven't gotten a chance to do that yet" he whines, scrolling through the list of movies they have. "We just watched a movie with the guys like two hours ago" I say raising an eyebrow at him, thinking he should probably get check for some sort of short term memory loss. 

"Yeah but we haven't gotten the chance to do it, with just the two of us. I want to watch a movie with my best friend, what's the harm in that?" he says pleading with me and giving me those puppy dog eyes that honestly I can hardly resist sometimes. "Fine, but just one!" I say setting the ground rules "We still need to make sure to get at least an hour or two of studying in, otherwise I'll just kick you out right now. Deal?" I question holding out my hand for him to shake. "Deal" he says and takes my hand, using it to pull me onto the bed with him and wraps his arm around me when I finally settle into place. 

"What are you doing?" I say sitting up to look at him properly. "What? I'm cold" he says, now confused with my behavior. "I have more blankets" I say standing up to walk towards the basket full of them and hand him one. "That's still not warm enough" he complains, he's not usually like this I think to myself so I decide to place the back of my hand on his forehead. "What are you doing?" he says laughing at my face scrunched in concentration for a moment. "Checking to see if you have a fever, but it looks like you're fine" I say. pulling my hand away, intending to grab my thermometer. 

"Where are you going" he whines, watching me walk over to the bathroom, dragging out the last syllable. "I'm going to take your temperature just in case you're actually sick and could possibly be contagious" I say, soon returning with said thermometer. "You sai-" he starts but I place it under his tongue before he tries to continue and he automatically closes him mouth around it, preventing the possibility of making him gag. 

"Put that under your tongue" I order, hoping to get a clear reading on the first try. "I kno-" "And stop talking or we'll have to do it again" I order and he quiets at that, hoping to get back to picking out a movie for us. Once the thermometer beeps I pull it out and it shows me that he's actually a few degrees colder than the typical 98.6. I turn it towards him to show him and he looks up at me with an almost triumphant gaze, "Told you I was cold" and he again ends up pulling me in by my wrist now causing me to fall into his chest. 

"Oops, my bad" he says before I can look back up at him, losing my patience more and more. I lean back intending to scold him but get surprised at how close he is to me, feeling a sudden intimate tension growing behind his eyes. "Y/n" he says in a low tone, his eyes flickering down to my lips for a second. "F-fine let's just watch a movie" I say instantly pulling back halfway through my sentence and take that opportunity to quickly sit next to him. 

He clears his throat and I glance over and see him offering to share the blanket with me and I just end up taking it, hoping to avoid any other conflicts. "You wanna watch this one?" he ask, selecting a random one that I don't really care to comment on, hoping we can just start the movie to dissolve any weirdness that was just created. He thankfully starts it off without another word and we both keep our eyes somewhat trained on the screen though out half of it, not really saying much before he starts to comment on how cheesy the romance is. 

"Oh come on, who still uses that stupid yawn trick to just put your arm around the girl. Like..." he say but trails off as he demonstrates it, letting out an exaggerated yawn and stretches his arms out and lands one right behind me, yet again holding me close to him. "Yeah it's pretty stupid" I say and wait for him to bring his arm back over to his side but he makes no moves to do so and simply goes back to watching the movie. 

"Yeonjun?" I question trying to get his attention. "Huh?" he lets out, barely sparing me a glance "Aren't you gonna?" I question motioning to the hand he's placed lightly on my shoulder. "What? It's comfortable" he says and pays no mind to how awkward I feel. I decide to ultimately just deal with it and focus on the movie as much as possible and I soon get lost in it, not noticing the fact that I start to lean into him a bit more, subconsciously feeling more comfortable being in his embrace.

As the movie wraps up I get a little emotional seeing how the characters ended up together after all that they went through to get there and Yeonjun starts to notice my sniffles. "Hey, are you okay?" he says now leaning forward and angling his face down a little bit to try and catch my gaze.

"Yeah" I say between the sniffles that have started to get a little worse. "Come here" he says and pulls me in for an embrace that I surprisingly don't hate this time. he ends up scooting us both down a bit so we're now fully laying down and I hide my face in his chest to avoid him seeing the tears. 

"You feeling a bit better?" he questions, continuing to rub my back. The times when I'm upset are when I don't really mind being held like this, and he's been there to comfort me a few times so this is somewhat normal for us. I nod my head but refuse to bring my face back up, knowing how swollen my eyes are gonna be. "Did something happen?" he questions, hoping to know what it really was that I was crying about. "Nothing really, school has just been really stressful these days" I say while trying to steady my breathing. 

"But you're one of the smartest people I know" he says, confused as to what might be bothering me. "Really? Then why is it that I've had to take a class that I was meant to complete in freshmen year three times? Like do you know how embarrassing that is?" I say, getting frustrated with myself. "That's a really hard class though" he says trying to make me feel a bit better.

"But you're a freshman and you're doing even better than I am" I say, embarrassed that as a Junior I'm having to ask him to study with me and explain things to me that I don't understand, which is a lot. "I like helping you though" he says and I decide to sit up now, feeling too upset to try to relax anymore. 

"But you shouldn't have to, I should've gotten this down already, It's required for my major and I have to pass it this time or it could push back my graduation date and-" "Noona" he interrupts, catching me off guard at how he's almost scolded me with what is meant to be a term of respect. "I thought I told you not to call me that" I say feeling a bit breathless, knowing how much that term affects me. "I don't care, I just know that that's what get's you to shut up for a bit so let me just say this. You are incredibly smart and strong and I respect you so much, and it makes me sad seeing how much you beat yourself up about every little thing. Plus I hate it when you cry, but you always look so pretty when you do" he says tucking a strand of hair behind my ear making my breath hitch. 

"I- what?" I say somehow flustered by his simple words. "I said, you look so pretty when you cry Noona" he says now bringing a hand up to caress my face and brushes away a tear. He takes that time to glance down at my lips again and I notice how close he's already gotten to me and I take in a sharp breath as he leans in closer but he stops right before our lips can touch. "I won't do it if you don't want me to" he whispers, warm breath fanning my face almost ghosting his lips over mine. I take a second to think and he says in place and waits for my move but as I decide to lean in a bit he leans back. 

"Words Noona" he says in a deeper voice, laced with a hint of dominance that catches me off guard. "I want you to" I reply softly and he takes that as a green light and leans in to kiss me before I have the chance to change my mind. It's nothing rushed or forceful but it's a kiss that full of longing, a kiss that feels like it should've happened long ago. We lock our lips together for what feels like only moments and before I can start to move my lips against his he pulls away. I lean in, almost chasing his lips which leaves him smiling against mine. 

"What are you doing?" I whisper, confused as to why he's stopped. "Just checking to see how much you want this" he says and before I have a chance to answer he connects our lips again, now moving his against mine, still not forceful but a bit deeper, showing a touch of urgency to keep going. He lies back down but makes it a point to keep his hand on the nape of my neck, pulling me back down with him, giving me the option to pull away when I want to. 

He does however trail his hand down my waist past my hip and brings one of my thighs over helping me straddle him which I surprisingly go along with leaving me to be the one wanting to deepen the kiss, me the one full of longing, longing for him.          

 "Hey y/n come here!" Beomgyu calls over to me, wanting me to come see the different wood carvings they have but before I'm able to leave I feel Yeonjun taking hold of my hand, again lacing our fingers together. "What are you doing?" I question, clearly having shown interest in joining Beomgyu. "Stay with me I want to show you the stall with the little glass figurines I pointed out to you before" he says dragging me along down the path. I look over at Beomgyu with an apologetic smile and follow Yeonjun. 

"You could've just showed me afterwards" I say shaking my head at his almost possessive nature. "We were already over here" he says, making excuses for his behavior but I follow him none the less, not wanting to give him an opportunity to pout. Once we do reach the stall though I am blown away by all the cute glass animals. I walk further into the stall and give a shallow bow to the stall owner and go up to their table to take a closer look. 

"These are beautiful" I say looking over them, taking an interest in the koi fish, seeing although an inanimate object how much life and movement was breathed into it. I take a look at the price and see that it's a little out of my price range and place it back looking to opt for a smaller version which I do but instead of a koi I go with a fox. I bow thanking the stall keeper and soon make my way onto the next one with Yeonjun trailing behind me trying to catch up. 

"What took you so long?" I question watching him jog up to me. "I got stuck looking at some of the knives down there" he explains. "You could've stopped me so we could look together" I say tilting my head, confused by his actions. "No it's okay it looked like you had your eye on something else so I didn't want to interrupt you" I look down at the bag he's now carrying looking somewhat suspicious. "That's a pretty big box for a knife" I comment, narrowing my eyes at him, knowing he probably got me that koi fish, thinking I wouldn't notice. "It came with the supplies to clean it as well" he says and quickly grabs my hand and leads us further along to look at the other venders making a loop around until we reach the last stall, the one that Beomgyu had called me over to. 

"Took you long enough" he says, standing up from a nearby bench. "Yeonjun wanted to check out a few more stalls over there, sorry" I say before walking closer to the stall with Yeonjun just a step behind me still having a hold on my hand. "Oh" I hear Beomgyu say. "Huh?" I respond to his sudden voice of confusion. "Oh nothing I just remembered I was going to meet Taehyun by the food stalls. You guys want anything?" he asks making eye contact with the both of us. "Nah that's okay we'll go later" Yeonjun answers for the both of us which I decide to go along with. "Alright" he says making an interesting face at Yeonjun before scurrying off to meet up with Taehyun. 

"You've been acting weird with all of the guys today" I say turning to face him fully. "What do you mean?" he questions still watching Beomgyu to almost make sure that he's actually leaving. "I mean you've been trying to keep me away from them all day. I have hardly spoken a word to any of them" I say waiting for an explanation. "You wanna know why?" he says making purposeful eye contact with me to which I just nod my head and keep that same eye contact but suddenly for a different reason. He leans down a bit and brings his face closer to mine like he had done a few days ago in my room and I feel like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. 

"Because this was supposed to be a date before you invited everyone else to come" he whispers, glancing down at my lips for only a second before bringing them back to my eyes, regaining that shared stare. "Oh..." I trail off, now realizing why he reacted the way that he did that day. "Yeah, so you're gonna stick by me Noona because I don't want you to go around flirting with them right in front of me anymore" he says now coming in closer and nudging his nose against mine, not really kissing me but close enough to be able to. "I don't flirt with them" I say scrunching my eyebrows at him in defense. 

"Sure, let's say that" he says and places a quick kiss on my lips that's gone before I can even register it, leaving me having to rush after him as he walks away so I don't get lost. "We're not dating you know" I say pouting when I reach him. "I know" he says and continues to make his way towards the food stalls. "So you can't keep kissing me like we are" I say confused as to why I should have to explain it to him then. "It's practice" he says plainly. "Practice for what?" I say even more puzzled. 

"For when I ask you to be my girlfriend" he says and runs away now really making me run after him. "Choi Yeonjun get back here" and all that can be heard is his mischievous laughter and for some reason I can't help but laugh right along with him, nervous for when that day might come. 

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[snovaness]

cookies, necklaces and pigtails

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol bf!jiung x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: (very self indulgent) flufffffff

♡ summary: jiung, the ever-loving, sweet boyfriend, meets your extended family for the first time. whilst the rest of the family has reservations against him, your four year old cousin is already a huge fan (read: he may or may not have promised her chocolate chip cookies).

♡ word count: 2,327 words

♡ a/n: thank you sooo much to @hyungseos-cafe for making the moodboard that inspired this :))

//

The sun was shining warmly on the well-kept garden beyond the kitchen windows, providing the roses and herbs your aunt tenderly cared for with some much-needed light to grow and flourish. Your head rested on your palms, watching a stray butterfly breeze past before stopping to admire the white roses. You knew you should’ve been paying attention, but your aunt has been going on and on since the mains were served, so you let her faux-saccharine words slip past you: in one ear, out the other.

You tried to subtly twist your head around in search of your boyfriend, but you didn’t have to look too hard – Jiung stuck out like a sore thumb. His bleached, grey hair bobbing up and down as he helped your mother with the dishes, sleeves of his freshly steamed jacket rolled to expose his lithe, veiny forearms. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and he flashed you an apologetic smile, wordlessly urging you to return your attention to your aunt. After all, he was always the more sensible, responsible and mature one out of the two of you. The exchange only lasted a few seconds though, before his attention was pulled away by your mother. You only caught a glimpse, but you could tell your boyfriend was listening attentively to her, respectfully nodding at all the right places and providing insightful answers. He was such an angel.

Your attention was torn away by your aunt. “Y/N,” she called your name sternly and you cringed. Even your mother had stopped using that particular tone on you years ago.

“Hmm?”

“Are you even listening? Daydreaming again, aren’t you?” She sighed, as though you had dragged your family’s honour through the mud, yet again. “First, you take a break from school. Now, you’re dating that boy? Tell me, are you even serious about him?”

“Imo!”

“Don’t Imo me! I’m asking because it’s what everyone else wants to know as well. They’re just too afraid to ask you about it. So? What’s your answer?”

It was your turn to sigh this time, rolling your eyes for added effect. Why did your family always have to be like this? “Yes, I’m serious! What makes you think I’m not?”

Your aunt tsked in response. “Young love. You will understand when you’re older. You think love will last forever, just because he promised you the world, then one day he wakes up and realises that actually, he doesn’t love you anymore. These things never last, Y/N. Trust me – especially not when they look like that.”

You had to summon all your willpower to not react impulsively in a physical way, fists coming under the kitchen bench to ball into tight fists. Why on earth were your relatives treating your boyfriend with such disrespect when all he ever did since stepping past those doors was be respectful and helpful and friendly? He even went above and beyond by insisting on buying pastries for dessert, to help set up the picnic tables outside and was even washing the dishes. You were fuming on his behalf. “Thanks… for the advice, Imo. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” You gritted your teeth, pushing the words out your mouth as you spun quickly on the balls of your feet, eager to get out of the conversation before you said something you couldn’t take back.

On the way to the bathroom, you spotted your boyfriend wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as your mother busied herself with arranging dessert. You hurriedly informed her that you were stealing your boyfriend from her as you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in the direction of the entertainment room.

Your boyfriend complied easily, knowing that something was up the moment you stepped foot into the house. Family was always a touchy subject for you, he knew that much. You got along well with your parents, especially since moving out. Being an only child, the distance certainly helped prevent you from getting smothered by your parents’ love and attention. However, your extended family was a whole different story. Today was the annual family gathering to get your mum’s side of the family together, and you dreaded it every year, like clockwork. Having moved out of the bubble your mum’s family grew up in when you were in primary school, you found it more and more challenging with each passing year to relate to any of your relatives. You found it even harder to put up with their neverending nosiness and nagging.

You’d been to this house many times since your infancy. You knew that as the adults gathered around the dining table and kitchen area, the kids preferred to play amongst themselves outdoors in the garden, leaving the rest of the spacious house empty. 

You breathed an audible sigh of relief as the two of you entered the empty entertainment room hand in hand. You turned around, launching into a rant, “Jiung, I’m so sorry – I know I warned you, but I should’ve seen this coming. It’s just, they’re so, urgh! They’re so annoying! This happens every single year. If it’s not – how did you do in school, it’s – which university did you apply to or what major are you studying. Then it was – what do you do for work, and do you have a boyfriend, or when are you getting married, just…” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, fingers pinching your nose bridge and closing your eyes to compose yourself, trying to contain your frustration. 

As you took several deep breaths, you felt your boyfriend snake his arms around you, his familiar scent mixed with aftershave infiltrating your senses. You could even make out the faint aroma of chocolate chip cookies lingering on his clothes, the aftermath of his brief baking session with your mother. You could feel your tense limbs loosen slightly.

“Y/N,” He said your name, and it made your legs feel like the green and red bits of Jell-O resting in the fridge, waiting to be devoured by your kid cousins. You felt yourself melt even more in his arms as he lightly pressed his pillowy lips against your forehead. “It’s fine, really.”

“But…” You replied in nothing more than a mere whisper. “I feel bad… We were meant to have a relaxing long weekend away at my parents’, who, by the way,” your fingers came to play with the silver necklace hanging around his slim neck out of habit. “Thank goodness – are perfectly normal. How could I forget that we had to visit the rest of the family this weekend?” You huffed, lips forming into what Jiung thought was the most irresistible pout. You were clearly disappointed that your weekend away had not gone as you imagined.

“It’s definitely okay. Besides,” He paused to tug your bottom lip out of the pout and tuck your fringe behind your ears. “I like making cookies. And your mum and I make a good dishwashing team.” Jiung gave you one of his smiles, the ones that make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy, and you couldn’t help but return it with a gummy smile of your own. He always seemed to have this sort of effect on you, always able to disarm your short fuse and bring you back down to earth with a warm touch and a tender smile.

“Eonnie!”

“Oh?” The two of you have never pulled away so fast, basically separating from each other at the speed of light. 

“Looks like we have a visitor.” Jiung announced, turning towards the entrance to find your youngest cousin, a little four year-old girl dressed in a pink princess dress and pigtails. “Hello, little one.”

“Oppa!” You could tell the little girl, Haeun, was way more interested in playing with your boyfriend than you. “Cookies!” That must’ve been why. Jiung told her he was baking cookies with your mum after family lunch, which clearly piqued her interest.

“They’re not ready yet, little one. Do you want other desserts instead? We chopped up some fruit earlier as well.” Jiung replied in a soft voice that was gentler and sweeter than usual. You smiled, watching as he lowered himself to her height, approaching her with a tiny wave, which she returned.

“No fruit, I want cookies.” She replied adamantly.

“I see stubbornness runs in the family.” Jiung teased under his breath, soft enough only for your ears. You laughed in response as you looked around for something to preoccupy your baby cousin. It was an entertainment room after all, surely there would be some books, or a soft toy…

“What’s that?” Haeun asked, curious.

“What’s what?” Jiung replied, now sitting cross-legged next to the girl. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. It seemed like your youngest cousin had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger.

“This one, it’s shiny!” She took a few quick steps towards him before collapsing and melting into his outstretched arms, fingers coming to grab at the sparkly pendant of his necklace.

It was your second anniversary gift. Jiung had always liked jewellery, and would occasionally talk about how he’d always wanted to wear more accessories but didn’t know how or where to start curating pieces to match his outfits. You offered up your own collection of silvers and golds, but opted to get him a silver necklace when he graduated from borrowing your rings and necklaces (in reality, he had misplaced one too many chains and you were starting to run low) – his had a silver sun pendant, while yours was a matching gold. 

“Oh, this?” He glanced down at the pendant. “It’s a sun. Y/N has a matching one. She got it for me as a present.”

“Bingo!” You cheered as you found a bunch of crayons held together with hair ties and a few pieces of paper (you didn’t question it, knowing that your aunt had two toddlers herself which threatened her vision of running the perfect, tidy household). “Do you want to draw a necklace for yourself, Haeun?”

She nodded happily, running over to you and plopping down on the floor. The three of you gathered together and began to pick out your favourite crayon colours. As you settled on drawing and colouring, you pretended to hide your artworks from each other if one of you dared to sneak a glance at the other’s, leading to several fits of laughs and giggles.

Haeun, ever the observant child, noticed that your boyfriend kept having to brush his hair away from his face while his lanky body was hunched over his drawing. She reached out with grabby hands and tried to comb chunks of his silvery locks into a makeshift ponytail. 

You could see her vision, and couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet interaction. “Here, let me help.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend looked up at the two of you, slightly confused.

It wasn’t like it was his first rodeo. You often held his hair back with a headband before cooking or washing his face, and sometimes tied his hair up for him when he was busy doing work. With Haeun working on one side and you on the other, you two girls fashioned Jiung’s hair into two (slightly mismatched) pigtails.

After a few more minutes of silent colouring, “I’m done!” Haeun declared, setting down her crayon. She held out her masterpiece, exhibiting it excitedly to you and your boyfriend. “See, it’s us!”

Indeed, your baby cousin had drawn you and your boyfriend, holding hands, and a little girl next to them, in a pink dress much like the one she was currently wearing. All three of you had bunny-looking ears, presumably to match the pigtails, and matching necklaces. You and Jiung showed her your artwork, but unanimously agreed that Haeun’s was the best out of the three. You made a mental note to go necklace shopping for her later today.

“Haeun! Haeun?” The voice of her mother, your younger (and favourite) aunt, filtered through the hallways.

“She’s in here!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you were outsi – Oh!” Your aunt stood at the doorway, pleasantly surprised at how well-behaved her active daughter was. “You got her to sit down. Great job guys!”

“Look, mummy! We drew some pictures!” Haeun ran towards her mother’s feet, passing her the drawing before hugging her feet.

“Wow, you did a great job, sweetie! Are those necklaces?”

“Yes, oppa said eonnie gave it to him as a present.”

The two of you stole glances at each other, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Did she? Well, your Y/N eonnie must like Jiung oppa very much. Speaking of which,” Your younger aunt turns towards you and Jiung. “I think she’s disturbed the two of you enough now. I’ll distract her with some cookies so you two can get some alone time.” She flashed a knowing smile, and you had to fight the urge to combust in embarrassment.

“We had lots of fun playing with her, imo.”

“Oh, I see she’s done your hair too! And the necklaces, you’re wearing them. Ah, young love,” She sighed wistfully. “How adorable.”

“Cookies! Mummy, I want cookies!”

//

epilogue.

“So, how many do you want?” Jiung asked under his breath, feigning nonchalance whilst his lips worked itself into a sheepish grin.

“How many what?” You asked, distracted. You were trying to find the covers for takeaway containers amongst the pile of dishes.

“Kids, of course.”

A soft clang echoed throughout the now-empty kitchen as you dropped the empty container. Your cheeks reddened so much that when Jiung turned around to check on you after a long silence, he had to cool them down with his hands, which were freezing cold from handling the ice box.

“Too soon?” He couldn’t help but tease, chuckling to himself at your stunned expression.

You nodded.

After a few beats, you whispered, “two, maybe.”

[snovaness]

forgive me for what i haven't done

summary: you arrive at your enemy's kingdom under the guise of making peace. the prince being nice to you wasn't part of the plan.

genre: strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort

warnings: she/her reader, reader's father is emotionally manipulative and physically harms her, mentions of violence

word count: 17.5k

a/n: absolute massive thank you to @sulfurcosmos, @isilentprincess, and @woahfruity for reading this through and giving me your honest feedback. i truly appreciate you <3 this fic has sent me through the five stages of grief.

you can’t ignore the bruising grip your father has on your arm as he walks you to the steps of the large palace. the journey here was a mere two hours, but it feels like this palace was built out of another world altogether. it’s shorter than your own, absent are the dull reaching peaks and towers of your home, traded for warm bricks covered in snaking ivy and the shining sun peeking through powdery clouds. where it lacks in height, it makes up for in its expanse. the building was wider than any you’ve ever seen. 

it was more beautiful than any building you’ve ever seen, too. 

you hope your nerves don’t show as you throw one last glance back at the carriage you arrived in; it would soon take away your handmaidens that had made the journey with you, and you wouldn’t see them again until you went home. it makes your heart ache that the only people you felt comfortable with were leaving you behind. you try and focus on the present instead, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would get you nowhere. you had hours of meeting strangers ahead of you, making polite small talk with them and learning whatever information you could about the royal family until you could go to bed and be upset in private. you weren’t here for pleasure anyways, your father had reminded you as the carriage had pulled in. you were here for a reason.

the first person you make eyes with is the king, a kind looking man, hair and beard speckled with gray and a soft smile on his face as he takes in his visitors. he had invited you and your father here, a gesture of goodwill, an unspoken plea for peace between your two kingdoms. 

“they want peace,” your father had scoffed, throwing the letter from the neighboring king to his desk. you watched as it slid off and fluttered to the floor. “the scum that killed your grandfather want peace, and they dare ask me to negotiate a treaty with them.”

“well,” you started, swallowing down your nerves like you did every time you spoke to your father. since your mother passed, all those years ago, you had taken over the role of his confidant, like he did with her. though, he never listened to your advice when you gave it; you were simply a body for him to talk at, to pour out his grief and frustration out on. “did the king not overthrow his own father? he is not the man that hurt our family, and i assume neither are his sons. can we not let the past stay in the past?”

the two kingdoms are small - a unity between you would open opportunities for new trading, allies in battle, new paths to resources that your people don’t see.

“their bloodline is rotten,” he says, definitive. “i would be doing the world a service by ridding it of their pitiful existence.”

his words of extremity did not surprise you; he spoke of all of the neighboring kingdoms in this way. he was not one for alliances, keeping the borders of his territory locked to outsiders, deeming them not fit to enter his kingdom. you can barely remember a time when foreigners or immigrants inhabited the now barren lands.

“and the people in their kingdom?” you question. “they are truly innocent. will they be given refuge here once their kingdom has fallen?”

“i do not care!” he spits out at you, eyes burning in anger, and you shrink back a little. “they will burn along with their miserable rulers. i will find a way to take them down, all of them, to make them pay for what they did to my family. and you, gods help me, will do as i say.”

and you would. in truth, you had barely even considered going against him. you were alone, you had no options other than following through with his wishes, no escape from him and his cruelty. you had nowhere to go that he would not find you. and yet, he remained vexed as he moved closer to you, speaking quietly in a manner that was more terrifying than if he was yelling at you. his fingers curl around your upper arm, like a warning-

“welcome,” the king’s voice breaks you out of your memory, and you muster up a smile for him. “thank you for making the journey here. and please, call me stephen. you are esteemed guests here, no need for formalities.”

your father doesn’t offer the same notion back, nodding coldly at your side. king stephen furrows his brow for a moment, and it’s clear on his face that he’s caught off guard. so expressive for a royal, you muse as he shakes his head and the smile returns to his face.

“my sons,” stephen gestures to the boys standing by his side, the ones you had yet to lay your eyes on. “crowned prince christopher, his betrothed, the lady roseanne, and our youngest, felix.”

betrothed? you did not know the older son was engaged. this complicates things. you can feel the anger coming off in waves from your father, and you place your hand on his forearm for a moment. not now, please, you mentally beg, and you almost sigh in relief when the tension leaves his body, turning your attention to the two royals in front of you.

the taller of the two dons a mop of curly hair under his circlet, cleanly pressed clothes shining with the royal blue of their family. a striking woman is at his side, an arm loosely curled around his. as he moves forward to greet your father, linking arms like the king had, your attention is drawn to the boy left standing alone. 

the shorter boy is what you can only describe as ethereal. his features are sharp in all the right places, smoothed out by soft planes and dips covered in starlight scattered freckles. his clothes are similar to that of his brother’s, but no crown adorns his head. 

he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. it makes your knees weak. 

“i am felix,” he says, his voice deeper than you would expect from the gentle features of his face. he dips his head a bit, a sign of respect, as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. your voice is steady when you respond with your own name, and you’re glad for it. 

his attention is diverted when your father’s hand lands on your shoulder, his touch more gentle than it ever is whilst away from prying eyes. 

“my daughter, princess y/n,” he announces, a proud smug on his face when you shyly curtsey. he must think your timidness is a ploy to get their trust, and not as a result of the raging nervousness boiling under your skin. 

“it’s an honor to meet you, your highnesses,” you meet each of their eyes, looking for any sign of malice, but you find none.

“come inside, please,” the king beckons, and the circle of knights that had been flanking him move aside gracefully to make way to the tall archway leading inside the palace. you’re once again taken away by the beautiful architecture inside, melting candles lining the walls made of warm brick. “we will begin the peace talks tomorrow, spend the day settling from your journey.”

“we will go freshen up,” your father states, cutting your exploration short with a poorly concealed fake smile donning his face. you hope no one else can see through him the way you can. “and we will meet you for dinner?”

he doesn’t wait until the king answers before he pulls you off to a hallway, beckoning over a servant and barking at him to show you both to your chambers. you pray to the gods that your hosts see your father’s unorthodox behavior as a difference in customs, rather than rudeness. the servant looks flustered, eyes wide as he directs you to your adjoined chambers, and you almost feel bad for him. you’re sure he can tell when your father’s anger returns, getting stronger the further you walk from the royal family, and you keep your head bowed until the two of you are behind closed doors. 

he lets go of your arm harshly, almost throwing you off of him in his haste and if you weren’t so afraid you would remind him that he probably shouldn’t yell as you’re sure he was about to do.

“he is engaged?” he growls out, teeth gritted together in fury. “this was not in the intel that i was given. this does not fit into our plan!”

his plan was for you to woo the prince, get him to fall in love with you, and then to kill his father and take the throne. nevermind the extensive gaps that he didn’t care to think out, that you weren’t brave enough to tell him about. the thought of the prince not going along with the neighboring king taking over his kingdom never crossed his mind; it was either extreme hubris or immense stupidity on his part. perhaps it was both.

“will i have to marry him? the prince?” you asked, avoiding his eyes. you kept your voice as leveled as you could, but you couldn’t completely mask the apprehension you were feeling.

“you will do whatever is necessary to gain his trust. if the boy proposes, you will accept.” he said, clinical and cold like he wasn’t gambling with your life. if your father was correct, these men were murderers, men who killed others in cold blood. what would the prince do if he discovered your father’s plan? how long was he expecting you to keep up this charade?

“control yourself,” he says when he takes in the tears pricking at your eyes, the wobbling of your lips as the gravity of his words sink in. “those of our class do not weep so easily.”

“what do we do now?” you ask, regretting it almost immediately when his anger turns towards you. you had wished, foolishly so, that he may forget this revenge-fueled nonsense and let you go home. 

“i do not know, stupid girl. why do you not think of something instead of having me do everything for you?” you pray that no servants were listening in through the door, and no knights were making their patrol past the hallway. with how loud he’s speaking, there would be no hiding his ill intentions. “i thank the gods you were born a woman and i can marry you off. with how useless you are, there would be no helping my kingdom with you as a ruler.”

the words sting, your heart aches at the cold insult he’s thrown at you, but it’s not the first time he’s said something like this. it’s at the tip of your tongue to tell him that this wasn’t even your plan, that you didn’t want to betray this kingdom in the first place, that you’re tired of being his pawn in a game only he wants to play. you want to tell him that you would be a better ruler than he is if given the chance, that you almost hope for the day that he keels over and dies because you would be free of him. but you’ve learned to hold your tongue in times like this, knowing that he only says these things out of frustration; flashes of the kind man he used to be when you were younger play through your mind, calming you down as you scramble for some kind of answer. 

“i will go after the younger one,” you start, a half-baked plan forming in your head. “if king stephen and christopher are out of the way, he is next in line for the throne, is he not? we just have a couple more people to get out of the way. befriend the king, distract him and make him trust you. i will handle the prince.”

you disappointed yourself by expecting some kind of verbal affirmation, some kind of praise for doing something right, but all you get from your father is a curt nod and a gesture to leave his chambers.

a nod was better than nothing. a nod was silent assurance that you were doing something right, that he was wrong about you. that you could think for yourself. 

when you enter the hallway, you catch a glimpse of the servant from earlier peeking around the corridor. you smile at him, hoping that he had heard nothing and that your face didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions clouding around in your head. he simply smiles back, foxy eyes crinkling and he nods at you before disappearing. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

dinner was an incredibly awkward affair; all throughout the meal, you couldn’t avoid meeting eyes with felix from where he was sitting across from you, and you flushed and looked away every time. his eyes were striking, soft browns highlighted with specks of gold reflected from the candlelight. this was the boy you were supposed to woo and manipulate, and you couldn’t even meet his eyes. gods help you.

you weren’t sure if your hosts could sense the concealed hostility in your father’s voice, but you could. he was doing a poor job of hiding his apathy, answering king stephen’s questions with short words or grunts. he eyed his food with judgment and took hesitant bites, even though you thought it was exceptionally made.

even the banquet hall itself was remarkable, banners of blue and gold hanging from the tall ceilings and plants of various kinds lining the walls. light shone down from the high windows, bathing the royals in front of you in a golden light.

“is the food not to your liking?” king stephen asked, a small frown gracing his features when he saw your father’s mostly full plate. 

“this is amazing, like nothing i have ever tasted before,” you voiced, directing the attention to yourself. your own plate was nearly scraped clean, and you might have licked it to savor the flavors if you didn’t have your royal dignity to uphold. 

your heart pounded in your chest from addressing the king so directly. 

“good, i am glad,” stephen smiled warmly at you, quelling your nerves, and his smile reached his eyes in a way your father’s hadn’t for years. “i shall make sure to send your compliments to our main cook, he was worried that the meal would not suit our guests’ tastes.”

“minho worries too much,” christopher laughs, meeting eyes with his fiancée. the way he looks at her sends warmth up your spine, like you’re witnessing kindling sparkling into a burning flame. “his cooking is the best in the entire kingdom.”

it might have turned you off that he was boasting like that if it wasn’t about someone whose status was below his. a crowned prince, giving compliments like that to a palace worker? kitchen staff, at that? it was different, for sure. 

the thought stuck with you for the rest of the night, even as your head hit your pillow at night. though you weren’t so naive to think that first impressions were indicative of their entire nature, it seems that the image of this royal family that your father painted for you might have been more skewed than you initially thought.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

while your father spent the next day with king stephen and their advisors, beginning the process of drafting and scrapping and rewriting peace treaties that you knew would never come to fruition, you were left to your own devices. venturing out of your chambers where you were bound to run into strangers was unsettling, but you pushed the feeling aside as you got dressed.

your father no doubt assumed you were jumping right into spending time gaining felix’ trust, but you didn’t know how to approach the younger prince to fulfill your part of the deal. you didn’t even know how to find him, or who to ask for his whereabouts; the sheltered walls of your home did not provide many opportunities for you to practice talking to people. 

the people here did not seem to have the same problem. wherever you turned, visiting nobles and palace staff sent you smiles, casual how are you’s and i hope you slept well’s handed out to you like spare change. it made your head spin, and the desire to retreat back into your chambers was strong.

you found your way outside instead, through an archway made of brown stone. the fresh air often helped you think. 

your casual walk allowed you to take in details that you couldn’t when you first arrived. the trees and greenery surrounding the palace were things you did not get at home, the forever winter killing off any color you longed to see. crops and livestock were held miles from the palace, outside of the reach of your vision and the invisible leash your father had kept you on, but here they thrived under the midday sun. you had a horse that you called your own, but you were only allowed to use him to travel to nearby towns on the outskirts of the palace property, right outside of the strong walls that surrounded it. none of the villagers there spoke to you past cold formalities, no matter how hard you tried, so eventually you gave up, settling for spending your time inside the castle.

here you found that you simply had to step outside of the palace walls to feel the soft grass beneath your feet, to smell the earth under your nose, to drink in the vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers in the gardens. there were so many trees, tall and strong with no walls blocking your vision of the soft foliage. you found a quiet bench under a tree, leaves and twigs decorating it’s surface from disuse, and you decided to call it your own despite having no ownership of any part of these grounds. 

no ownership yet, if your father had anything to do about it. 

you sat there for hours, drinking in the scenery as the sun made it’s path across the clear sky. you had expected boredom to creep around the edges of your mind, but it never came. the tranquility was so addictive that you found yourself back there, on that same bench, the next morning. and the next, your feet carrying you there before you were even fully awake.

“penny for your thoughts?” a deep voice disrupts your peace on that third day as a slender body sits on the bench next to you, just close enough that the warmth of his body touches your skin. you’re equal parts relieved and distressed when you see that it’s felix, and you smile at him in greeting, hoping that it didn’t come out as a grimace. this time when you meet his eyes, you make an effort to not look away.

“i do not get to see things such as this at home,” you wave your hand towards the garden, towards the birds chirping and the gentle sound of a stream bubbling. “it is beautiful. serene, you know?”

you don’t know how to act around him, and you certainly didn’t expect him to approach you. your words came out awkward, sounding unpracticed and superficial, and you try and hold back a flush from taking over your face. you hoped it wasn’t outstandingly clear how uncomfortable you were in his presence. do better than that, your father’s voice rings in your head.

“i agree,” he turns away from you, drinking in the picture-perfect view in front of you. “i am very lucky to call this place my home. what is yours like?”

“gray,” you deadpan, and the responding laugh he grants you makes your heart skip. better.

“there must be something beautiful there, it cannot just be you, right?” he says, a playful smirk tugging his lips upwards. 

“flattery will get you nowhere, my prince,” you shoot back, enjoying the moment of quick banter between the two of you before your words turned sober. “when my mother was alive, she would paint the hallways and the walls of our chambers with beautiful flowers and vines and clouds. the flowers were my favorite part, she painted them in such beautiful shades of purples and yellows. most of them have been painted over, but the ones in my chambers remain. those are my favorite part of the castle, the most beautiful things i have ever seen.” 

“i would love to see it one day,” he says, adamant and genuine as he takes your hand in his to squeeze it once before letting it go.

“maybe you could visit?” you look up at him through your lashes, a fake gesture to toy with him that left you feeling staticky and wrong. it was a complete lie - you would never subject this beautiful boy to the somberness of your home, lest it dull his brightness. even though he might not have a home soon, you push away the thought.

“only if it means i can see more of you, and not having you hide away,” he says, pointedly, though his face shows no malice. 

“it is overwhelming, for me,” you explain, embarrassed at having been caught. “to be surrounded by strangers.”

“yes,” his eyes are far away for a moment, his head deep in thought. “i understand.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the next morning you had only just left your chambers, planning for another day exploring the greenery around the palace, when you spot felix leaning against the wall opposite of the door. he approaches you with a warm smile and takes your hand, his skin soft under your fingertips. how long had he been waiting there for you?

“my lady,” he bows his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips to press a kiss there, as he had done when you first arrived. “would you care for a walk around the palace? it would be my honor to be your escort for the day.”

“if you ask so nicely,” you smile back, humor seeping into your voice naturally. “how can i refuse?”

“excellent,” his smile widens and he holds an arm out for you to take. “i’ll take you to meet my friends! that way, you will have friends here, too, instead of strangers.”

his friends, you thought, would be nobles and lords and other members of high class that you would have to make fake pleasantries with. while his gesture was sweet, you had no interest making relations with the elite members of this court, the ones whose lives you were planning on upending. the last thing you expected was for him to take you straight to the kitchens, down winding hallways and corridors, marked by the ever increasing aroma of delicious baked goods and mouthwatering herbs.

“minho!” felix exclaims, bouncing on his heels excitedly, catching the attention of a man who was frowning deeply at a pot bubbling over a fire. “this is y/n, i am taking her around the castle today. y/n, this is minho, the king of our kitchens, and a dear friend of mine.”

the way he introduced you, so casually, was perplexing; no one had ever spoken your name without princess or lady preceding it. even more so was his casual use of king when talking about someone of lower class, a term that should be solely reserved for his father. 

“hello, my lady,” minho looks up, his lips turning up into a graceful smile, slightly crooked teeth peeking through his lips. his hair curls around his ears a bit, dainty jewelry adorning his lobes, and his features look almost sculpted in perfection. he’s absolutely beautiful.

“is everyone in your kingdom this pretty?” you blurt out, forgetting yourself, and minho barks into laughter. felix’s hand moves to lay on your arm, right at the crook of your elbow, and if it wasn’t for the amused smile on his face you may have thought you upset him.

“you are one to talk, my lady,” minho says, delight on his face that quickly morphs into exasperation as the pot he was monitoring earlier begins to bubble over.

“careful, min,” felix drawls out, his fingers curling further into your arm. almost possessively. interesting. “she is our guest, not someone for you to flirt with.”

“alright, your royal highness,” minho says distractedly, stirring vigorously. “now stop distracting me, unless you want raw meat and vegetables for dinner tonight.” 

felix grins in response, shooting a wave at the cook before leading you to a door in the back of the kitchens. it follows outside to a set of fields you hadn’t laid eyes on before, a cobblestone path winding through it like a river.

“so, do you think i am pretty too?” he teases as he leads you down the path, towards a set of men - knights - sparring in the midday sun. “or is that reserved for minho?”

“well-” you laugh, startled at his boldness. “i will not lie, you certainly are beautiful. but do not let it get to your head.”

“well as you said, flattery gets you nowhere, my lady,” he laughs too, and the two of you break all composure as you lean into each other. it’s almost too easy to be casual with him, too natural to break the carefully taught formalities that were drilled into you. you thought it might be a challenge, or awkward at the minimum, to get close to the prince, but you’re finding it to be quite an enjoyable experience thus far.

as you approach the knights, sweaty and panting from the exertion of their practice, you point out two men stand out from the rest, wearing armor with the royal colors showing proudly rather than the simple silver of the other knights. they held themselves with grace, power exuding off of them almost effortlessly, and they spark your interest.

“changbin and jisung,” felix points them out. “chris’ most trusted knights, and our friends. i pray for you if you ever get into a poker match with those two, they’ll cheat you out of every coin in your purse, the rascals.”

his voice is fond as his words are teasing, a juxtaposition that fascinates you. you don’t think you can recall a time where someone has used an insult as a term of endearment as he had just done. you lock this away in the back of your mind to ponder on later as you take in the two knights in front of you. the shorter one is clearly fond of exercise, if the muscles that even his heavy armor can’t hide is any clue. his hair is as dark as a raven’s feathers, curling from sweat, and his face is kind. the one next to him is slimmer, but no less strong. his face is round, cheeks swelling from the gummy smile he’s wearing, and his eyes are so pretty. 

“felix!” the more muscular one, changbin as felix had pointed out, beams at the man beside you. “care to join? your moves must be getting rusty with all the sitting around you royals do.”

felix sends a glare to changbin, no heat behind the gesture, and him and jisung laugh in response. 

“i have company, you scoundrels,” felix complains, almost in a whine. “could you not just boast about my prowess on the battlefield? you had to make me look bad?”

“please, lix,” jisung teases before turning his attention to you. “he may not be the most powerful warrior, but he is quick. the most agile swordwork i have seen, probably. it is like he is dancing with his opponent.”

felix flushes, shy under the compliments of his knights, his friends. 

“hyunjin and seungmin must be around here somewhere,” felix muses as he walks you down the corridor lined with knights, back inside and down a hallway you haven’t seen before. “this is where mine and chris’ chambers are. hyunjin is chris’s personal secretary, and seungmin is mine. though, i would consider him more of a menace than anything else.” 

his voice is lined with fondness again, like the way he spoke about minho and changbin and jisung. it’s the same manner as how he talks about his father and his brother, his family. it was like they were all his kin, regardless of blood.

“you are on a first name basis with the staff here?” you ask after a lull of silence, curiosity winning over your hesitance. your own handmaidens did not address you by name, the women who were your closest companions since you were young girls. you had never even thought to grant them the privilege of doing so.

“we treat everyone with the same respect, regardless of status or bloodline,” he says, words sounding a little colder than usual. 

“do not misunderstand,” you quickly correct, not wanting to offend him. because you want him to trust you, your mind supplies. not because you want him to like you. “i think it admirable. it is…different, to how things are in my kingdom. i am simply not used to it. i would prefer it this way, if i had the choice.”

it wasn’t a complete lie; you were searching for words that would win him your favor, but it surprised you how naturally they came to you. 

“do you not?” he furrows his brow, looking at you in confusion. whatever iciness he had before had melted into befuddlement, like he genuinely didn’t understand. “have a choice, i mean.”

you don’t know how to tell him you don’t have many choices at all. 

the silence takes over the both of you again, less comfortable than before, but he remains quiet as if he can sense the thoughts whirling inside of your head. it’s only when you reach the limits of the palace property that you’re thrown out of your mind, glancing at him with unspoken question.

“i thought we could take a stroll through the lower towns to end our day,” he explains, no signs of lingering animosity from your previous conversation. “it is my favorite place to go to get away from the palace once in a while.”

the lower towns, like most things in this kingdom, were not what you had expected. there were children playing in the streets, laughing and screaming while their parents watched on in exasperation. markets lined the cobblestones you walked on, selling vibrant fabrics and jewelry, freshly baked goods and crisp produce, and a variety of trinkets that overwhelmed you in the best way, patrons were striking bargains for products on every corner, trading goods for coin, a smile on each face you encountered.

it was a good distinction from the towns you were used to, where knights patrolled to ensure nothing was amiss. people there lived in fear, not in joy. everywhere you turned, people smiled at the prince beside you, and he would wave back or offer a small nod, ever polite. the few times you had managed to sneak into the lower towns to buy paints and canvas or trinkets as gifts for your handmaidens, you had gone in a thick cloak that covered your face lest you be recognized. here, walking around in your day dress, you felt almost naked. 

a child runs up to felix and wraps his small arms around his legs, bouncing excitedly on his heels.

“prince lixie!” he squeals, and felix leans down to ruffle his hair, a large smile on his face. it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “is that a princess?”

it takes you a moment to realize that the child is asking about you. you don’t interact with children much, your father would never allow them to touch you like the boy is with felix.

“yes, she is,” felix whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “a very beautiful princess. why don’t you say hello?”

“hello,” the boy turns shy, peeking his head out from behind felix’ leg. the child, you found, could be forgiven for his lack of decorum when addressing you. he had a lot to learn at his young age. “i am joshua.”

“hi, little one,” you say, a little awkward as felix’ eyes are trained on you. “i am y/n.” 

you were at loss for words, but the few words you managed to give had the boy practically beaming at you in response. you watch as felix tells him to return to his friends, because you and him were on official palace business, and the boy nods sagely before scampering off.

“sorry about him,” he says once lucas is out of sight. “i have been visiting him in the village since he was very little. i have taken a liking to him, naughty as he is. he is the son of one of the merchants here, and he lost his mother years ago. i see myself in him.” 

“he is precious,” you take his arm again as he continues down the path. “i always wanted to visit the children in the orphanages at home, but i-” you cut yourself off, a habit you’ve taken to since arriving here. i need to learn to think before speaking. “i have not gotten the chance.”

“the children here are lovely,” he says. “i like learning from them. they keep me humble, remind me that not everyone is born with such privilege.”

he says it so simply, as if it’s his right to question such things; a man born into royalty surely has no business spending time with lower-class children, learning from them. it is one thing to offer them a coin, something that the kingdom could clearly spare. but what could they possibly teach him that his well-respected tutors could not?

you didn’t bring it up, afraid that he would react the same way he had earlier, when you questioned his informality with his staff. afraid that maybe, he would react in anger, though you couldn’t quite imagine the perfect lines of his face twisted into anything but peace.

before the two of you leave, he stops at one of the many stands selling an array of sparking jewelry and scarves, and he asks you if you would like anything. you want to say yes, the handmade twists of metal and dyed fabrics captivating you, but you shyly shake your head. 

you almost miss his forlorn expression when you refuse, turning away from the stand. it’s better this way, to not receive gifts from him. there will be nothing in your possession to remember him by, then.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

as felix drops you off at your door in the evening, the day comes crashing down on you - he’s so kind. everyone here is, from the royal family to the staff and the people living in the villages outside the gates. throughout the entire day you spent with felix, you did not once think about why you were here, simply enjoying his company and learning about him, not the secrets you were tasked with uncovering. 

it’s given you a lot to think about.

as he leaves, he runs a gentle hand down your arm from your shoulder to your wrist, squeezing gently before walking away. even his strides are made in lovely, even steps that makes him look other-worldly.

you lean against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and it’s then that a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye captures your attention. 

a servant is standing just down the hallway opposite from the one felix disappeared into, the same servant who had walked you to your chambers the very first day. the first person here who had smiled at you for no reason other than to be kind.

“hello,” you call out softly, beckoning him closer to you; you don’t know who looks more nervous out of the two of you as he approaches you with uncertain steps. “what is your name?”

“jeongin, my lady,” he almost whispers, hesitant, wide eyes trained on you. 

“nice to meet you, jeongin,” your lips tug upwards. he’s adorable. 

“we have met before,” he blurts out, smacking his hands over his mouth. “i am sorry, i spoke out of turn. i just meant…” 

he trails off, looking down shyly. 

“meant what, jeongin?” you ask, sure to keep your voice light and free of demand despite the curiosity starting to burn in you. what did he mean, you’ve met before? surely, he means within the palace earlier that week, right?

“i used to live in your kingdom,” he admits, his fingers playing with them hem of his tunic. “when i was younger. my mother was a servant in your castle.”

“really?” you gasp, understanding and puzzlement taking over simultaneously. 

“yes, but i left when i was still young,” he explains. “i remember you, though. you were always kind. i admired you for that.”

“thank you, jeongin,” you manage to force out, knowing that you did not deserve his kind words, even as informal as they were given. he was wrong; you were just as wicked as the rest of the nobles in your court. perhaps you were simply better at hiding it.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father pulls you into an empty corridor near your chambers the next day, his strength harsh enough to make you stumble over your feet.

“what have you learned,” he speaks in hushed tones, scared of being overheard. it’s more of a demand than a question, as if he simply expected you to have what he needs after such little time.

“i spent the entire day with him yesterday,” you start, choosing your words carefully, lest he discover that you’re actually enjoying yourself here. “he took me around the castle, and i have an idea of the layout, in the case that we need to make a hasty exit.”

“anything else?” he pushes, leaning further into your space. 

“they are…unusually fond of their staff here,” you divulge, more reluctant to give up this information. “they might be of use.”

“good girl,” his smirk is like frost, and he reaches out to cup your cheek. a gesture that, to others, may have seemed paternal, protective. though his touch sends an unpleasant shiver up your spine, his words satisfy some sick satisfaction within you - the need for his approval was met.

“your mother would be proud.”

as he walks away, it makes you queasy how those words make you straighten up, proud. pleased. living in the echo of your mother’s footsteps for so long made you doubtful that you would ever be able to fill them, but maybe this was a start.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you see felix later, walking to the banquet hall with another boy dressed in simple clothes. they pause by the entrance, deep in conversation, and you duck behind a pillar, out of their sight. you’re just close enough to hear snippets of their conversation, when their voices raise from their hushed whispers. they must not want to be overheard, you realize, straining your ears harder. this was your chance to gather some kind useful information for your father.

you close your eyes and listen, picking up puzzle pieces of she’s sick and time off and you’ve almost completed the puzzle when it hits you - though any conversation they might have had was not meant for you to hear, this one in particular felt like a breach of privacy. not of felix’ but of the boy standing before him. 

his secretary, seungmin, that he had spoken about the previous day. the boy who, as you had just learned, had a sick mother, and was requesting some time away to care for her. as you peek around the pillar, you see felix rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to the boy before pulling him in for a gentle hug. 

he’s friends with his staff, and he touches them so casually? this didn’t fit. it fit nothing of the way you were brought up, formality and proprietary trained into you, and it fit nothing of the picture your father had painted of the royals that ruled over this kingdom. it seems that with every observation, instead of answers you were left with more and more questions. 

“what are you doing?” a voice sounds from behind you, too close, and you nearly jump. 

“what?” you breathe out, turning to see jeongin standing behind you, eyes wide.

“you were just standing there with your eyes closed,” he explains. “is everything okay?”

“my lady,” you correct, the words leaving your mouth as if it had a mind of its own. “is everything okay, my lady.”

“oh,” he says, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth. “apologies, my lady. there is no such need for formalities here, i had forgotten.”

“it is alright,” you assure, watching as he relaxes and lets out a breath. 

“just, a word of advice?” he says, continuing before you could tell him that no, you didn’t want nor need his advice. “if you are going to be here for some time, you should try and adapt. not to overstep, my lady, you just might find yourself more comfortable if you relax a bit.”

he walks away with a smile, and you’re left alone to reflect on his words. he did overstep, but it does not mean he didn’t give you something useful. adapt, he had said, and perhaps he had a point. felix seemed to be more open with you when you were agreeable, when you didn’t question his strange impropriety. 

maybe becoming one of them, even through a facade, was the key to unlocking whatever you needed to find.

he arrives at your door as the sun was setting, light knocks accompanied by a call of your name that you almost couldn’t hear. you call out softly for him to enter, a delighted smile taking over your face when you see what he has grasped in his hand, held out in offering.

a beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapped in creamy tulle. the petals were a vibrant purple, highlighted by sharp yellows and soft whites towards their center. they were violas, your mother’s favorite flower. 

you hadn’t seen one since she had passed. your father had forbade anyone from growing them on his lands.

“how did you know?” you gasp, smiling at him brightly as you take them from him. you move them closer to your face, and if you were alone you might bury your face into them, savoring their powdery sweet smell. “that these were my favorite flower?”

“you told me,” he says, ears turning pink under your attention. “that your mother painted your room in purple flowers. i just guessed, but from your reaction i hope i got it right?”

how had he remembered such a small detail that you had given him, when you knew little to nothing about him?

“oh, felix, they’re perfect. you remembered such a small thing?”

“there are a lot of things i wish to know about you,” he confesses. 

“likewise,” you smile at him. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

smoke, creeping through the gap between the floor and the wooden door, rising in curling pillars towards you. snaking around your neck, entering your throat and your nostrils, burning your lungs to ash. you scramble for the doorknob, but the moment your fingers hit it you’re snatching your hand back - it’s icy hot, unable to touch. 

there is no escape.

the windows - covered by royal blue curtains, catch fire from below, and you throw them back. you need air, something to clear out your crumbling lungs, but when you look outside the city is on fire. red-hot flames lick up the side of the palace, trees turned barren and flowers burned to a crisp. 

in the center you can see felix, flames surrounding him but not touching. he’s whispering something, and you cry out that you can’t hear him. speak louder, please, you beg. help me.

“this is your fault,” he speaks, his voice right in your ear, but when you turn towards it, it’s not felix next to you. it’s your father.

his hand slides around your waist, pulling you close to him, embracing you. 

“good work,” he says, proud smile on his face as the both of you watch the city fall to the flames. “i knew you could do it.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

since the younger prince had taken you on a tour of the castle, you’ve seen him every day. sometimes he would greet you at breakfast, disappearing afterwards only for him to show up at your door later to ask you on a walk around the grounds. other times he would be waiting for you outside your chambers when you woke up with a basket of fresh pasties baked by minho for you to enjoy together, and he would watch in delight as you savored the flavors. on rarer days, you would only see him in passing while he was between duties, but he would stop to press a kiss to the back of your hand, every time. 

you played along with him, accepting his flirting and responding in turn. it came instinctively, and you often forgot that you were meant to be luring him into a false companionship, not a real one. he was alluring, smart with a fragment of recklessness, soft with sharp edges, a perfect balance of everything. 

as the days passed, he would get bolder. his touches lingered for longer, the searing heat of his hand pressing on your arm, your shoulder, on the small of your back. his kisses moved from your hands to your cheeks and your temples, to the crown of your head, and it left you aching for more. he didn’t hold back his compliments, reflecting not only on how beautiful he found you but also how thought you were clever, intelligent, good-natured. you never thought those things about yourself, but something in the way he said it made you think they were true.

in the times that you weren’t with felix, you spent time with jeongin. the boy was as sweet as he looked, the the more time you spent together, the more his shyness melted away to reveal sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. you found your own walls dropping around him too, his easy companionship making it difficult to remain closed off to him. he reminded you of the home of your childhood, the one that you missed fiercely, and you were grateful to have him by your side. he kept you humble, holding you accountable for the way you acted, even though a spark of fear remained within him any time he spoke his mind in that regard. you managed to hold back your annoyance at his remarks, and soon you found that it simply faded out of reach. you became fast friends, almost too quickly, evidenced by the way he would raise his eyebrows at you when he saw you with felix, like he could see right through you.

you were lucky that your attraction to the prince was all that he could see through. the weight of your impending betrayal was like a shackle on your ankle, following you wherever you went, impossible to truly forget about. while you had yet to learn anything about the royal family that could serve as a benefit to your father, you saw your relationship with felix as a betrayal in it’s own right. if you were better, you would leave him alone - you would leave this kingdom entirely, and refuse to play any part in their downfall. but you couldn’t physically stay away.

you couldn’t stop from filing away small bits of information that might serve to be useful, either. the prince’s brother’s favorite meal, in case the opportunity to poison him came along. his father’s daily schedule, told to you by felix freely when you had asked, your fingertip running down his arm from his shoulder to his wrist. the likely areas where secrets may have been hidden, restricted to you and glossed over by felix when he would walk with you around the castle. you hated it, categorizing this information into handy little parcels that you would deliver to your father.

a welcome distraction came in the form of the very thing you should be avoiding; on a few occasions, felix had christopher and his betrothed, roseanne, accompany the two of you on whatever excursion he had planned for that day. 

a simple picnic in the garden, juicy fruits picked just that morning and fresh baked bread and crumbly cheeses to snack on while the four of you talked. conversation came easy with chris and roseanne, once you broke out of the too familiar anxiety that surrounded you when with new people. felix’s warmth from where he was settled next to you, allowing you to lean into him, helped more than you wanted to tell him. chris was so similar to his brother, sharing his kindness and his humor, though his jokes were cheesier than felix’ dry sarcasm. roseanne was lovely, someone who you could see as a close friend under different circumstances. 

a on a visit to the lower towns, just as lively as it was the first time you went. it was then that you officially met hyunjin and seungmin, the prince’s assistants. the way they bickered with one another, and their royal counterparts, made you laugh so hard that your stomach ached with it. even they were striking, and it left you wondering whether one’s disposition on the inside reflected their beauty on the outside. 

your friendly chatter continued into mealtimes, where the kings would join you, the very few times where you would get to see king stephen at all. he bantered with his children, asking them about their days and their plans for the next ones, acted like a father instead of a king with them. it sent a pang of longing through you - your father had been like that, before. you don’t think he remembered how to be a father, anymore.

as much as you loved the prince’s company, you hated the approving nods you would get from your father whenever he saw you and felix together. the acknowledgement that you craved for just weeks ago felt near futile now - he didn’t see that instead of making the prince fall for you, the opposite was taking place. he didn’t see the genuine connection between the two of you, the way you craved for him, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was in front of you. he didn’t care about your heart, about how it would likely break beyond compare when he he was finished here. he didn’t care about you. 

the you that was falling for felix. for his compassion, for his gentle nature, for his quick wit and effortless beauty. for the way he treated those around him, for the way he spoke to you like you were more than a pawn in a cruel game of chess. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what was to come, what you hopelessly wished you could avoid. you find yourself wishing, not for the first time, that you and your father were truly here seeking peace. that you could imagine a future here without guilt gnawing at your chest.

the closer you grow to felix, the stronger the gnawing feeling in your stomach becomes. but you can’t stay away from him, even if you tried; the sparking light in his eyes drew you in and you were helpless to his magnetic pull. the way he would beckon you over with his hand, palm facing upright as if waiting to join with your own, left you no choice but to go to him. you knew you were selfish, spending time with him out of your own desires while doing nothing to warn him of what was to come and making no actions to follow through with your father’s wishes. you knew your time here, living in peace, was running short, the last dribbles of sand slipping down an hourglass.

and yet, when he finally pulled you into an empty alcove and held you close so that he could press his lips gently to yours, you let him. you responded in kind, moving together with him like some kind of dance. 

when he invited you into his chambers and into his bed, you didn’t say no. even then, when he gave you all of himself, you took it. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, this time contained in a ring of wooden slats, smoke curling up into the night sky. felix, by your side, you tucked into his side while the two of you claim it’s warmth for your own.

“why?” felix says, running a hand up and down your arm. you hum, snuggling further into him when a breeze makes it way to you through the trees surrounding you.

“why what?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet.

“why did you do it?” he turns towards you, the flames still visible in his eyes. he glances over your shoulder pointedly before turning back to the campfire, pulling you into him again. you look behind you, and a firestorm meets your vision. you can barely make out the outline of the beautiful palace through the inferno, but a figure stands out in the center of it. you move closer, the heat threatening to scorch your skin, to see your father strapped to stake. burning. dying.

you turn back towards felix, question dying on your lips when he’s not there. a sick feeling enters your stomach as your gaze returns to the fire, and where your father was is felix in his place.

you let out a horrid scream.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

waking up to the sight of felix, blonde hair illuminated by the morning light like a halo around his head, was something you think you could never get used to. even if you were allowed this under better circumstances, if the two of you had fallen together after meeting at a ball or a diplomatic meeting, his beauty was something that you truly could not comprehend. 

you have half a mind to scold both him and yourself for breaking proprietary, for falling into bed with one another out of wedlock, as parts of two separate kingdoms that have yet to establish ties. you don’t, though; you were as much at fault as he was, and you had enjoyed it too much to ruin it for either of you. you do not acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up inside of you from your dishonesty, or the remainder of fear that lingered from your dream. looking at felix while he slept seemed like a much better way to spend your time.

he is equal parts pretty and cute when he mumbles, smacking his lips together as his eyelids flutter, holding onto the last pieces of sleep he can. when his brown eyes peek through his eyelashes and land on you, you can see the smile in his gaze.

“morning,” his deep voice rumbles, and he pulls you close to him by the waist. you land almost on top of him, his movement making you lose your balance from where you were perched on your elbow watching him, and you both let out breathless laughter at your undignified flailing. you settle against him, his chest pillowing your head while you trace senseless patterns into whatever patches of skin you can find.

you can still feel the phantom touches that he had imprinted on you the night before, as he held you more gently than anyone ever had. you can feel the silky smooth strands of his hair under your fingers, the ghost of his breath panting against your neck. you can hear the sweet sounds you pulled out of him over and over. 

“penny for your thoughts?” he asks, just as he did when he met you in the gardens the very first time. 

“mm,” you sound, not wanting to break the peaceful silence the two of you were basking in. “just thinking about my mother.” 

“oh,” his face drops in sadness. not in pity, but in compassion. in empathy, for of all people he would understand; he lost his mother, too. “can i ask how she passed?”

a refusal is at the tip of your tongue, as it is when anyone asks about your mother, but it fizzles out when you look at him. you found yourself wanting to talk about this with him.

“she was sick,” you start, early memories of your childhood filtering into your head. “since i can remember, she was sick. it took over her body slowly, it took years for her to succumb to being bedridden. she would paint for hours and hours, back then, until she collapsed. but then, it took over her mind too. that was the worst part, her forgetting who my father was, who i was, forgetting who she was. when she passed, it was almost a relief, i could not stand to see her in that state of pain anymore. i was twelve, when it happened.”

“i am sorry,” his voice is deep, thick with sadness. “that sounds like something a child should never have to go through.”

“what about…” you trail off, not wanting to make it sound like the two of you were trading secrets like giggling children. 

“she was murdered by bandits, in the lower towns, just a few years ago,” he answered your unfinished question. “she went further than she was supposed to go from the castle grounds, and she always refused to bring knights with her. my father blames himself, and i blamed him for a long time too. but it was not his fault.”

“i am sorry, too,” you place your hand on his cheek, hoping the weight of your caress would surpass the lack of words you offered him. 

“as strange as it is to say, i-” he cuts off for a second, letting out a strangled laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “i am glad that you understand. it is hard telling these things to people that have not experienced that kind of pain.”

you don’t think it’s strange at all. it settles something within you, the part of you that had felt so alone for years. for all of his charms, it was this display of raw honesty that transformed what you had thought to be superficial attraction into something more, something deeper.

“i feel the same,” you close your eyes, trying to tamper the nausea that arose at those words. you’re going to take his father from him too, your back-stabbing mind informs you. and his brother, you don’t deserve his comfort. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father calls for you that morning, sending a note to your chambers. you only see it when you finally get out of felix’ bed and make it to your own to freshen up, a smile present on your face that you can’t help. 

every step you take towards your father’s chambers feels more and more like you’re signing your death wish, and the sound of his door opening several moments after you knock on it sounds like cannon-fire in your head.

“you asked for me?” you move closer to the desk where he had sat, and from your position you could see messy piles of paper with words that had been angrily scrawled on them. 

“i have asked you for many things,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension. “but it is good to see that you can manage to follow simple orders.”

his passive aggression makes your blood boil; after weeks of being treated so kindly by your hosts, your patience was wearing thin in the face of your father.

“i am trying to earn their trust fully,” you try to reason. “it is taking longer than expected.”

“and sharing a bed with him is not enough? whoring yourself out to them has not given you the opportunity to find out what you need?” his words were almost enough to make your skin catch fire. how did he possibly know what you and felix had done? “complete what i have asked of you, now. the faster we finish this, the quicker we can leave this horrid place.”

leave this place, and go back to what? an empty castle where you are disrespected, forgotten, ignored? a place with no life, no joy, no laughter? you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were certain that going back was not a favorable outcome.

“i’m not a servant that you can bark orders to,” you bit out, regretting it almost instantly when he stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor behind him. 

“watch your mouth,” he growls, stalking towards you, and you take a few steps back from him. “it seems that the only thing you’ve learned from the insolent brats here is how to be weak. how to disrespect your king, the one who has clothed you and fed you since you were born.”

your king, he said. not your father. 

he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back, back, back until you’re up against the door, his grip strong enough that you knew would leave behind a ring of bruises. you wish you could deem this unfamiliar, but the sensation of feeling pain caused by his hands was not uncommon.

“i am growing tired of your excuses. you think they care about you? they would kill you in an instant if they knew what you have been hiding.” he moves closer, until his face is inches from yours and you cannot look anywhere but at him. “if you know what is good for you, you will stop this insolence and do as i say.”

when he removes his grip from you, your knees give out, and you brace yourself against the doorframe to keep from falling. he returns to his desk, not sparing you a glance as you leave his chambers and close the door behind you.

you don’t notice the frightened frame that had been standing outside the door through the tears clouding your vision.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you’re sitting at the fireplace in your chambers when you hear your door open, jeongin slipping in and closing it quietly behind him. he settles himself next to you, taking in your haggard appearance.

“your father is not here to make peace, is he?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgment. like he was confirming what he was already known to be true, not making an accusation.

“no,” you answer simply, too exhausted to try and lie to him. your friend. maybe the first real one you’ve ever had.

“you are helping him.” he says, letting a crumb of distress loose into his voice.

“yes.”

“you have come here under the illest of intentions, gained our trust,” he starts, calm. quiet.

“i know,” you sigh.

“you are going to hurt a lot of people.“

“i know.”

“you are going to do it, even though you do not want to.”

“i know, jeongin!” you snap, feeling guilty when he jumps a little.

“it’s just,” he’s playing with his fingers, a tell of his nerves. “i remember what it was like, at home. before, and then after. when things changed, when people became meaner. more cold, and closed off. that is why we left, and came here. don not make us go through that again.”

“i am sorry,” you whisper, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach at his words. all you can offer him is an empty apology, useless as it is.

“i had hoped that you would be different. that you would stay true to who you were, or who i thought you to be.” he’s looking into the fire, not blinking as if mesmerized. as if he’s trying to dissociate from this moment in a way you wish you could. “when i saw you here, you still had it. that light, from before.”

“i do not want to do it, innie,” you choke out, echoing his words while your eyes burned. “i do not know what to do. i never wanted this, i hate it.”

“i know,” he says. “i can see it. in everything you do, your hesitation, the way you hold yourself back. but you do not understand.”

“understand what?” you’re exhausted, you don’t have it in yourself to be frustrated at him.

“that you have a choice,” he says, as if it was a simple thing. “that you can choose to end this, choose to do what you know is right.”

“i am scared,” you wobble out.

“being scared is good,” he finally breaks away from the fire, but the light in his eyes burns just as bright when he looks at you. “it makes you genuine. that is what makes you different from him. but you do not have to let that stop you.”

“i do not know how,” you whisper, voice barely carrying over to him. 

“figure it out,” he says, just as quiet. “or i will do something, that you will not like. i will not let you harm my friends, no matter who you are.”

he leaves you then, slipping out of the chambers as quietly as he had come in, leaving you to your thoughts and what felt like a never ending stream of silent tears flowing from your eyes.

the next morning, you hand jeongin a note to give to hyunjin for christopher. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the sun had been set for hours when you wrap a scarf around your neck to hind the greenish blue splotches forming around your neck and secure the buckles on your boots. you hadn’t seen felix all day, but you knew that if he asked you to spend the night with him that you wouldn’t be able to follow through with what you were about to to.

your cloak shrouds your face from anyone who might be awake as you quickly make your way through the gardens, to the bench that you often inhabited. christopher is already waiting there for you, a grim look on his face.

“why did you ask me here, my lady?” he asks, clearly confused. 

“please, i need you to listen to me,” your voice is hushed, like you’re scared of anyone hearing despite the hour of day and the concealed location you had chosen.”i am going to tell you things that you will not like, but i need you to listen until the end.” 

“are you alright?” he looks concerned at how desperate you sound, but you shake your head. now isn’t the time for him to worry about you.

you tell him everything. the things your father had said about his family, the plan he had concocted before even stepping foot in this kingdom, the way his demands have been increasing from your lack of progress. the way you had changed as a result of being around the people here, that you didn’t wish to play in your father’s game any longer. you watch as his face morphs from surprise to anger to betrayal and back again, a cycle of emotions that might be comical under any other circumstance. 

there were many ways you could have done this; telling the king for one, but this would open the chance of him ending your life along with your father. trying again to reason with your him, making it clear that you weren’t going to comply with his demands, but you could never see him compromising his mission. there was one single thing that you had thought of that had a chance of succeeding, with your head still attached to your body.

you end your speech with a demand, simple as it is, and that’s when he shows disbelief.

“you want me to kill your father?” he asks, incredulous. 

“i may have loved him once,” you admit, voice thick with emotion. “but not anymore. he is not my father anymore, he is a tyrant. there is not a single soul in the kingdoms that would benefit from him being alive.”

“how do i know i can trust you?” he raises a cool brow, indifference masking whatever he was truly feeling underneath. “what if this is part of your plot?”

“you do not have time to consider my legitimacy!” you cry out, desperate. “i have tried to delay him, to think of some way out of this. he is getting angrier by the day and i fear that he will do something without thinking, something bad, and soon.”

“why not just leave then?” he asks, as if giving you a test. for all it was worth, it was a test that you wanted to pass. “why go through all of this when you could just get out, save yourself?”

“that would not be fair to my people, to leave them with him,” your words come out more passionate than you expected them to. “they deserve better than that. and it would not be fair to you, either. you have shown me more compassion than anyone has since my mother was alive. i will not repay that kindness by leaving like a coward.”

“has he hurt you?” the question catches you off guard, as does the concern filtering through his gaze. you bite your tongue; you want to answer, tell him yes, but that tiny, frightened version of you inside stops the words from coming out. you want to pull down your scarf, show him visible proof of the way your father treats you, but your hands feel like lead. he takes your silence as a confirmation though, nodding and cursing under his breath. 

“i will not kill him,” he says, and you open your mouth to beg, plead for him to listen, but he holds a hand out as he continues. “but i will keep my guard up. i will not take this lightly; my father’s life is in danger, and i will take every precaution while i gain information.”

you sigh through your nose, defeat making your body sag into the bench. this was your last chance; chris may as well have just sealed all of your fates.

“please understand,” he says, weary. “i cannot go to my father with accusations when i have no proof. i believe you, i just need evidence before i can act.”

“please, just,” you say as you stand, not wanting to ask him for another impossible task he might refuse. “do not tell felix? i cannot have him getting caught up in this. i do not want him hurt.”

“you care about him.” he states, as if he is already sure of your answer. 

“more than i thought possible,” you answer, and it is the truth.

“i cannot promise you that i will keep him in the dark. he is my brother,” he frowns. “we do not keep secrets from one another.”

“please,” it’s all you can say before you walk away, pulling your hood back over your face. you can only hope that he will listen to your plea. if not for your sake, but for felix’.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you should go to your own chambers, should stay away from felix until things were figured out, done and over. but your feet take you to his door instead of your own, and you’re inside his chambers before you can second-guess your stupid decision. you can tell he’s awake by his breathing, irregular and short, and it both pains and excites you that you are allowed to know things about him in that capacity.

“hi,” you keep your voice low, almost a purr as you climb into the bed and throw an arm around his curled up form. his nose scrunches and he wriggles a little bit, almost dislodging you, but you keep your grip strong. you don’t know when you will get this again. 

“you smell like outside,” he complains, his body going lax. “where were you? i missed you.”

“just checking on some things,” you mumble into his skin, your lips finding home on the back of his neck. “i am all yours now.”

“do you not have people to check on things for you?” he asks, opening his eyes finally and turning his head towards you. you’re glad for the lack of light that keeps him from really seeing you. seeing the stress pinching your brows together, and the guilty frown that you can’t get rid of. “i have told you, my staff are there at your disposal. for whatever you need.” 

“why trust others to do things i can do myself?” you quip back, the guilt of not telling him eating at you. you bury your face into his neck, hiding yourself, and the hand he tangles into your hair soothes you a bit. you feel tears welling up against your will and you let a shaky breath out into his honeyed skin.

“are you alright?” he tries to move your head up to look at you, but you refuse, shaking your head.

“i just really care about you, you know that right?” you admit, the last words you spoke to chris echoing in your head. “i didn’t expect to ever care about someone this much.”

“i care about you too,” confusion laces his words, and he runs a hand up and down your back. “are you sure you are alright?”

“i will be.”

so will he. you would make sure of it, somehow.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

felix is out of bed by the time you awaken the next morning, but it isn’t something unusual to wake up to cold sheets next to you. he is a prince, after all, and he can’t spend all hours of his day with you. if anything it’s better that he’s gone today; it will help you keep the distance that you failed to keep the night before.

you’re slow as you dress, the decision you made before you succumbed to sleep weighing heavily on your shoulders; you were going to speak to your father, for a final time. you were not going to give him a choice, you were going to rob him of the basic right that you he so often deprived you of. you were going to make him listen to you, for once.

but when you enter his chambers, he is absent from them. you try and dampen the dread creeping up your throat; surely, he wouldn’t act now? only a couple of days after you last spoke?

you approach his desk, looking for any sort of clue that might lead to his whereabouts, but what you find is worse than you’d imagined. pages upon pages of plans, detailed imagery of how he wanted to kill the king and his sons, how he wanted to enslave the people here, how he would take the resources here and let the land rot and decay, all scribbled down in near nonsensical sentences. 

stupid man, leaving these out for anyone to see. you swipe them off the table, folding them neatly and tucking them into the bodice of your dress where no one would find them, just as your father enters the chambers. your hand flies to your chest, covering up what you had just done, but your father must think it an act of surprise from his lack of acknowledgement.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, eyes narrowed on you. you hold your head up even when you want to cower before him. 

“the crowned prince knows of your betrayal,” you inform, watching as his eyes filled with anger. no fear, as you had expected.

“how,” he growls, making quick steps towards you and taking both of your arms in a harsh grip. his rings dig into your flesh, 

“i told him,” you say, surprised when the words come out clean and leveled and your head stays up high. “i will not help you any longer. the king will know soon, and you will be thrown in prison.”

it was an empty threat; you knew the king was still unaware of what was going on. 

“you would trade me for these people you barely know? the same people who killed your moth- your grandfather?” and it clicks into place. he made a mistake, he misspoke, and it showed the last of his cards that he had kept so carefully hidden from you. it’s clear now: he’s gone mad, searching for some kind of revenge, even if it is on the wrong people. he’s locked himself into some grief-fueled conspiracy, and you realize now that he’s truly lost to you. that he had been lost, for years now. 

“you are not fit to rule over anything,” you snarl. “you are not fit to be a father, you are not fit to do anything more than sit here and place blame on everyone but yourself!”

he doesn’t react for several moments, searching your face for something, before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes wild.

“you ungrateful, insolent, stupid girl,” he shakes you with every word, and your teeth rattle. “you think you can threaten me?” 

he raises a hand and the back of it strikes you across the cheek, metal catching on the delicate bone there. you fall to the ground, the force of it knocking you off balance, and when you raise a shaking hand to your burning skin it comes back flecked with blood. 

“get out of my sight,” he spits at you, stepping around your form as if you were a mere pest before him. “this changes nothing. your threats mean nothing, but heed mine. if you ever step foot in front of me again, i will have you hanged. from now on, you are not my daughter. you are nothing.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the walk to your chambers feels longer than usual despite your hurried steps, and you can’t shake the feeling that something unfortunate was going to happen, soon. what did your father mean when he said that your warning changed nothing? did he not believe you?

you don’t dwell on his clear descent to madness for long; you curse yourself for not seeing the blatant signs of it earlier, his obsession and his misplaced fury, but you know that there are more pressing issues that need your attention. 

perhaps a further look at his aimless scribbling would give you some answers. either way, it was the proof you needed, the evidence chris claimed was necessary to have before approaching king stephen with your claims. you knew needed to act, and soon.  

when you find felix already in your chambers, his presence is enough to qualm the hurricane raging under your skin. it comes back full force, though, when you look at him and he’s angry. 

“when were you going to tell me,” he starts, voice ice cold like you’ve never heard it before. it terrified you. “that you were planning to kill my family?”

“what?” you gasp out, every nerve in your body freezing to stone. any urgency you were feeling regarding your father is wiped out, replaced with cold trepidation. chris told him.

“you came here to kill my father, to kill my brother and his love and to, to use me,” he grits out, voice trembling, and you can’t stand it.

“no, i-” you choke out, the words escaping you. you wanted to tell him everything, wanted to show him what you had found and bring the evidence to his father together, but you can’t get it out. “maybe at first, but no, not anymore-”

“not anymore?” he cries out, incredulous. “how can i trust anything you say to me? you’ve been lying to me since you got here, lying about everything, lying about caring for me-”

“no, felix, i love you,” the confession rips out of you and the timing couldn’t be worse. you wanted to tell him after, when things were not in the uncertain state they were in now. you wanted to give him the confession he deserved, something worthy of the man that he was. he shakes his head at your words, crystal tears forming in his eyes.

“you do not get to say that to me,” he bites out. “i do not even know who you are, you have been lying to me from the beginning, playing with me, you do not get to say that.”

“i did not want to,” you almost wail, the feeling in your knees giving out as you fall to his feet. the emotions that you haven’t been letting yourself feel were pouring out of you. “i did not want to, but he would have killed me, or married me off to some brute to get rid of me and i had no idea what to do.”

you want to shout, look at what he did to me, look at the evidence of what he would do to me, but you can’t. 

“stop. stop talking.” he drags you to your feet by the arm, grip harsh like he would rather do anything than be touching you right now. “get out of my chambers. i want you and your father out of my home, and if you do not leave i swear to the gods i will tell my father to have you hanged.”

you stumble towards his door, turning back to throw one last pleading glance at him, and you regret it as his next words cut you right to the core.

“they warned me about you, did you know that?” he’s no longer speaking out anger, but rather cold indifference. it’s worse, somehow. you wanted to ask who they were, but in the moment it truly didn’t matter. “they told me about your family, how vile you all are. how you would poison us from the inside. but when i laid eyes on you, i did not believe them. i know now, that i should have.”

your body remains frozen long after he leaves, and you don’t realize that your body has moved to your bed until jeongin peeks his head into the door.

“innie,” you choke out from where you’re laying over the covers. he rushes to your side, and his face falls when he sees the tears leaking from your eyes. 

“what happened?” he pushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, so gentle that you can’t help but let out a sob. 

“felix,” you stutter out. “he hates me- he wants me gone. and i don’t blame him, i hate me, but innie, it hurts.”

you let jeongin pull you into his arms, tears leaking into his shirt, and even then your traitorous heart wishes it was felix holding you like this. the last thing you remember before sleep clouds your mind is jeongin whispering i’m sorry into your hair.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, but this time it surrounds you. not burning, but encasing you in warmth, covering your body completely. it spreads, catching onto the surfaces around you.

it’s threatening to combust, taking you with it. you didn’t know what do to. flee? protect, your mind demands. so you run, past door after door, passing by people who beckon you inside. you can’t, you need to leave.

chris, asking you to come inside. minho, calling you in for a meal, fresh and fragrant. jeongin, asking you to join him, telling you he’s worried about you. 

felix, standing still as stone on his balcony. your father behind him, eyes dark as they narrow in on the prince. no.

you rush to them, gliding past felix, your flame sliding off his skin like water. you push your father away, your momentum carrying the both of you forward as the flames catch on his frame.

falling, falling, falling, off the balcony towards an endless pit of darkness. you look up and felix is watching, beautiful face twisted in anguish as he watches the two of you plummet.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t leave. despite felix’ warnings, you didn’t make any moves to flee the castle. you needed to see this through, needed to ensure that the people here were safe; the only way you would leave this palace is in the absence of your father’s company. if you were going to die, you would rather it be by stephen’s hands than by his.

you almost don’t leave your chambers, terror paralyzing you as you sit on your bed, waiting nervously for something to happen. whether it be news from christopher about his efforts or a group of knights ready to take you to the dungeons, your body itched for some action. you don’t leave for breakfast, and you don’t let jeongin in when he quietly brings you a meal and leaves it at your door. you pick at it, watching the morning sun rise into the sky and wishing you had a jug of wine to drown yourself in.

by midday, you had made up your mind; you were going to enter the king’s chambers, deliver him the information you had, and sneak away from the palace at night. where you would go, you did not know, but you knew that you were not welcome in either court anymore. you had ostracized yourself from your home and from the group of people here that you hoped to one day call your family. 

you had no one. and it was your own doing.

you push away the thought as you hurry through the familiar halls, stopping at one of the only doors you had yet to enter. the king wasn’t in his chambers, you discovered, when you spent several minutes knocking on the door to no avail. the council chambers were empty as well, and you felt your heart speed up as you raced through the halls, avoiding any person you saw. your boots clicked on the stone as you hastily entered and exited chambers and hallways, searching desperately for the king, hoping he was here somewhere. 

you find them in the banquet hall, a smile on stephen’s face as he signs a long document with a feathered quill. you’re not close enough to see what it is from you’re standing behind a column at the entrance to the hall, hiding your presence from them. your father moves to stand next to the king when he finishes, leaning in close as he takes the quill from him, and he raises his hand behind the king’s back. in his hand, sunlight glints off of a piece of metal in his hand - a knife,

you look around desperately for a knight to alert, but you find none. why are there no knights here? your stomach lodges itself into your throat as you stare at the two kings, frozen as your father readies the knife, poised to strike stephen right in the center of his back -

“no!” you cry, breaking away from the spot you were glued to as you run faster than thought was possible have towards them. your father turns towards your voice in shock, the knife slicing through the king’s side in a clean movement, and the king falls. 

“what are you doing?” your father snarls, the man by his feet forgotten as his attention turns to you. you spare stephen a glance, meeting his wide eyes, and you hope he can see the apology in yours. your father’s forward movement moves your attention to him, and you see him stalking towards you with his knife poised. “i am growing tired of your foolishness, you wretched girl.”

“if you want to kill someone, kill me. not him,” you plead, backing away from him. “he did not kill her, you know that. this, this delusion you are living under, it needs to stop!”

“do not speak of her to me,” you can see his anger rising, redness traveling up his neck. “you are a poor excuse of a woman compared to her. you know nothing. everything i have done, i have done for her, and i will kill you and the rest of them if i need to.”

you’ve heard your father recount his killing of countless adversaries, spoken in cold tones with no regret, but to see him with his weapon raised at you is something you had never imagined in all of your days. it was a truly terrifying sight.

he backs you into the same column you had been hiding behind earlier, a mirror image of the way he had cornered you in his bedchambers days ago. his free hand circles your neck, covering the bruises that he had left behind then, and your hands fly to his wrist.

“this will never free you,” you choke out, tears brimming in your eyes that make your vision blurry. this way, when you look at him, his features are so unfocused that he almost looks like he used to, when he was sane. kind. “do you not understand? this will not bring her back. you will be truly alone.”

“better to be alone than living with you as a reminder of what i have lost,” he says softly, the sharp blade of the knife pressed to your side, stinging as it nicks your skin. 

you close your eyes, resigned to your fate. this was how it was going to end, no matter what. you, suffering from the result of his hands, his jolted mind. you, a mere ghost of your mother, biding your time in this world until he decided that you had none left. living a life that would never truly be your own. 

no.

your eyes fly open and meet his and he hesitates, the knife pulling back the smallest bit. you take the chance, your hand moves from one of his wrists to the other and you twist, taking in a sharp breath when he gasps and lets the knife clatter to the floor. he lets go of your neck and you drop, grabbing the handle of the knife with a shaky hand and slashing upwards, hoping that it would land somewhere. 

he drops to the floor with a howl of pain, clutching at his thigh, and in the next moment you’re on top of him, pinning him to the floor with a knee to his stomach. the knife is still in your hand, unmoving from how strongly your fingers were grasped around the handle. it would be so easy to plunge it into his chest, so simple. you would finally be free. 

you barely register when several knights finally barge into the hall, swords pointed at the two of you. your focus was purely on the man under you, at the madness swimming in his eyes and the ugly curl of his mouth shaped in scowl. 

“you will not do it. you are weak,” he wheezes out, confident even as he struggles to speak from your weight on him.

you raise the knife. 

a moment of tense silence. 

and felix calls out your name. the only voice that could break you away from the trance you were in. his lovely voice, shaped in your name. 

when you meet his eyes you drop the knife, and you’re pushed away from your father when by knights who move to secure him in shackles. you stand on wobbly feet, taking in the hall - felix, hovering by your side, hands raised as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t. chris, standing by his father’s side, supporting him as he rises from the floor. blood drips down his side, but not an alarming amount. he would be fine. your own father, cursing angrily at the guards who were keeping him restrained, his words passing through you with no recognition.

you’re sure you looked horrible, in this moment. hair a mess, chest still heaving, clothes torn. you didn’t belong here. you drop your father’s papers that you kept hidden in your clothing to the ground, watching them flutter before settling, face up for all to see.

“i will leave at first light,” is the last thing you say before leaving the king, the princes, and your father behind you.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t look at your own reflection until the next morning. your face was a horrible painting of blues and blacks, and the bruises on your neck are fading into green, though you’re sure more were forming underneath them. 

you look horrible.

you didn’t come with many things, and most of them were unnecessary for where you were about to go; traveling into the woods didn’t require fancy dresses and jewelry, so as you packed your bag you left them behind. 

the last thing you expected was for felix to push the door to your chambers open, a noisier affair than you were used to from the way the door banged against the wall. 

“you are still here,” he breathes out, panting a bit like he ran here. he eyes the bag you were holding warily.

“i am,” you answer, fear seeping into your veins as he moves closer to you. not of him, never of him, but of the power he held over you. of the way his words could break your heart into more fractures than it already was in. 

“your father is in line for execution, at midday,” he informs, placing a hand on top of yours when he reaches you, his warm skin stinging the ice-cold skin of your own. 

“good,” it’s the only thing you can think to say. the only reaction you can muster from learning that your father was about to die, like you had wished him to.

“chris told me what you asked him to do,” he says, voice low. “i did not stay long enough to hear the whole story, when he told me the other day. i came to you in anger, and i did not listen to you either. i am sorry.”

his voice wobbles in sorrow, and it breaks your heart. 

“no, do not be,” you whisper, flipping your hand around so you could tangle your fingers with his. you wanted to feel him like this, at least one more time. “i should have been honest with you. when i chose to go against him, when i chose you, i should have told you.”

“you were scared,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “of him. and of us, i presume. i cannot fault you for that.”

“i was scared, but-” you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words. he waits for you patiently, eyes trained on your features. “since my mother died, my life has not been my own. i have not been allowed to make my own decisions, i don’t know how to…do this. that is no one’s fault but my own.”

“this?” he asks, velvet soft as he seeks for clarification. 

“to be honest about things. to trust people with what’s going on. to…not be scared of people’s reactions,” even this show of candor was sending your heart into a frenzied pace. “i do not know how.”

“then let me teach you,” you can hear the tears in his voice but you don’t look up to meet them. you didn’t think you could handle it. selfish. “please. i do not know what you are planning to do - after, but please do not leave.”

“felix, i have never felt more free than i have here, in this kingdom, with your people. with your family,” you squeeze your fingers around his hand, the only thing you could bring yourself to do. “with you. you have already taught me so much. how do i continue to take and take from you like this?” 

“you do not owe me anything,” he vows, bowing his head a bit. “anything i give to you, i give gladly. i act without thinking and i make rash decisions, too. do not think that i am not learning from you in turn. if it were not for jeongin finding me and explaining things to me yesterday, i would have done something horrid. i could have lost you, do you understand? you and i, we are not so different.”

jeongin. once this was all over, you were going to award that boy a house. or a village. whatever he wanted.

“did he do this to you?” he says when you don’t answer, raising one hand to the bruising around your neck and another to your cheek, feather-light fingertips tracing along the lines. “did he hurt you?”

“yes,” you breathe out, admitting for the first time to someone other than yourself what kind of man your father truly is. letting yourself accept that maybe, it was not your fault. that maybe, you deserved something better. 

you stayed.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris meets the two of you outside your chambers hours later, looking more exhausted than you’ve seen him before. he takes in your linked hands with a smile.

“felix told you?” he asks, gentle. you nod, leaning into felix. “i am sorry, that i did not do more. that it came to that.”

“do not apologize,” you say, resolute. “if anyone should be sorry, it is me. for putting you all through this.”

“if anyone needs to apologize, it is your father,” felix swears, his grip on your hand tightening. “if he was not already on his way, i would kill him myself for hurting you.”

you squeeze his hand back, hoping the gesture would bring him some comfort. violence was not a color that you think shaded felix often, but you couldn’t deny that his protectiveness was attractive.

it is chris’ duty to oversee the affair, but you cannot bring yourself to accompany him. the thought of seeing your father again, restrained and awaiting death, was not something that you wished to experience. 

felix stays with you, guiding you through the halls and into his bed, holding you tight the entire time. his presence by your side is overrides the myriad of negative emotions inside of you and for once, your mind is quiet, failing to remind you that you needing felix in this moment was self-serving. it’s as if the thoughts were dying along with your last-living relative.

you wished that you felt happy, relieved to be released from him. or even sorrow, full of grief for your lost father. but you felt nothing.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris enters felix’ chambers at dusk, waking you and felix from the sleep that neither of you intended to fall into. 

“my father wishes to see you,” he addresses to you, waiting with leveled patience as the two of you slowly rise from the bed.

“is he angry?” your voice comes out as a whisper, betraying your anxiety.

“yes, but not at you,” he assures, settling a hand on your shoulder, his touch light. “do not worry.”

but you did worry, all throughout the walk to the king’s advisory chambers to when you enter the door, startling him out of whatever hushed conversation he was engaged in with his staff. when he looks at you he is angry, and you’re glad in that moment for christopher’s warning. you moved with more confidence than you truly had, chris and felix’ presence at your sides helping more than you cared to admit. 

“you wanted to see me, sire?” you ask, your hands wringing together. felix takes one of them into his own, if only to stop your movements.

“i wanted to discuss things with you,” stephen waves off his advisors, waiting for them to leave the chambers before continuing. “regarding your father.”

“my father is dead,” you state plainly, moving forward until you were in front of the king. “i swear fealty to you, my lord.”

you slowly knelt at his feet, gasping in surprise when felix knelt by your side. 

“whatever i can do to prove my loyalty, i will do it,” you assured, keeping your head down. normally, you would internally bristle at the thought of kneeling before a king like this, in an act of submission, but this time it was different. this time, it was your choice. 

“you have proven your loyalty by going against your own kin, my child,” his voice was thick with emotion. “please, stand.”

you don’t, until felix does and pulls you along with him. you’re confused at his immediate acceptance of you, the daughter of a man who wished him such ill-will. you look at him and you’re sure he can see the puzzlement on your face.

“i did not ask for you here to make you prove yourself,” he explains, gesturing at the papers strewn about the table. your father’s notes. “i simply wished to thank you, for preventing such heinous acts from occurring. these notes…” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “are unsettling. more were found in his chambers, detailing increasingly vicious flights of fancy.”

you would learn later that in your father’s notes were his plans for you, for once his own were executed. perhaps stephen felt pity for you as a result of what he saw. when you meet eyes with the king, any trace of anger is gone, replaced with a deep kind of sadness.

“thank you, for keeping my family safe at the sake of your own welfare. anything you wish for, i will grant it.” 

your mind screams at you that you don’t deserve it, that you had put them in more harm than anything, that he doesn’t owe you any kindness. 

“i wish for nothing that i do not already have,” you glance at felix, shooting him a small smile when you notice the pride gleaming on his face. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

it takes less of jumping through diplomatic hoops than you would have expected to sign your kingdom over to stephen. the lands were adjacent to one another, so rearranging property lines was as simple as removing a single line from a parchment map. you learned that it was more common than you had originally thought to combine kingdoms, though usually it resulted from acts of war. you were queen for all of two days before officially resigning.

your father, for all his boasting, did not carry many alliances with other nations, and the ones he did have stephen was glad to cut off. your father’s knights did little more than grumble about having to change their colors, and the ones that refused to were promptly dismissed from service.

the castle that was once your home was a different case; you never wished to go back there, other than to gather the things that still held your mother’s touch. that place hasn’t been a home to you in a while, but you decided that it could be a home to someone. 

it would take some time, but you had plans to turn the palace into an orphanage. a place where everyone and anyone could come and seek shelter, food and water, and company. it was the least you could do for your people, who had suffered under your blind eye for over a decade while you sat in your chambers, ignorant to all that was going on outside the palace walls.

the biggest relief was the weight of your kingdom off of your shoulders. maybe it was selfish to think that way, but you had never asked for that life. you knew your people were in better hands with stephen than they ever would have been with your bloodline, and you could think of no better successors than chris and roseanne. 

you had your ladies in waiting brought from your old palace, but they did little more than help you dress. jeongin had become your formal assistant, but you considered him a friend and a confidant more than anything. you had offered him and his family whatever he wanted, now that the riches your father held were in your name, but he had refused. he simply asked for a new house in the lower village for his parents and siblings, but stated that he wished to remain in the castle. 

you and felix decided to hold off on announcing a formal betrothal, deeming it wiser to let the kingdom that had nearly doubled in size settle first. you had not been together long, after all, and most of your time together was spent with you under a guise. you took the time to relearn each other, to memorize every miniscule detail of the other’s personality, your habits and your mannerisms and your preferences. despite your earlier reservations, propriety mattered little with the two of you; you spent even more time together than you did before, and you had all but moved into his chambers, only using yours when you wanted someplace quiet to think. 

you don’t remember a time when you were happier than you were now. for the first time in your life, you looked toward the future with brightness.  

[snovaness]

Hey stayblr, I've been thinking of ways we can unite to help Palestine in the current genocide. With Israel closing borders again, no aid is allowed in and local organizations on the ground urgently need our help. So, i thought of rallying to raise donations for Palestine, big or small, as every dollar counts and can truly make a difference. Our initial target is to raise 1500 dollars, to be split between Care for Gaza and UNRWA. We’ll raise the target goal according to our progress!

For transparency, donations will be received through my Kofi, with daily updates on our progress. Here are the links to UNRWA’s and Careforgaza’s work in Gaza!

Palestinians are saying that this is the worst phase of the genocide yet. They need as much of our help as we can give them, so please, let’s all stand together for this.

If you cannot donate

- please reblog and share around!

- stream hind’s hall (all proceeds will be donated to unrwa!

[snovaness]

A dream

Was it embarrassing? Possibly but right now you didn't care. There he was in a simple oversized white t-shirt and blue flannel. The t-shirt's neckline showed off his beautiful collarbones you'd be lying if you said it wasn't driving you insane. He looked ethereal while you were in your stained work clothes from the café. You are positive that he could tell that you were flustered by the sight of him. "Han, we're closed what are you doing here?" the man standing before you was practically a daily regular with a few of his friends. The two of you weren't exactly friends, but you were friendly enough that your conversations went beyond typical barista and customer formalities.

"Yeah, I know but I... I remember that you said you hated closing alone and I just was on my way to my friend's place and wanted to make sure you were okay." You felt your face heat up. "Yeah, I'm good! I'm just about to lock up and head home. I appreciate the thought... it's very sweet of you." he stood behind you as you made sure the doors of the front of the café were bolted shut. "How about I walk you home? I imagine you don't live that far from here?" he asks. "I live a few blocks north from here. I can walk alone if that's out of your way. I'm used to it by now" He shakes his head "No really I'd love to. I have to head that way anyway." you nod and he motions for you to take the lead.

"So work on any new songs lately?" you ask casually. He told you last week that he makes music with a couple of his friends and posts them on YouTube and Spotify under their group name 3racha. You can see him smile brightly from the corner of your eye. "yeah! I finished my 4th song this week. I'm actually on my way to record some demos with Chan and Changbin. You remember them right?" you nod "yeah! they come with you often. Not nearly as often as Felix and Lee know though. Oh and can you tell Felix I did try his banana bread recipe and it was really good."

"I can always just give you his number if you want it," he says quietly. you shake your head "No that's okay. I wouldn't say we are that close. If I'm being honest I think your friends only talk to me so much because you come to the café so often. Not that I mind I really enjoy you guys. Don't tell anyone but you are my favorite regular." a blush creeps up to his cheeks and his ears turn a light shade of pink. "well you are my favorite barista." you laugh "Your order is the same every time you come in. You don't exactly change things up which makes things very easy for me." a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Seeing your apartment in the distance you feel a strange wave of sadness that your walk with Han is about to end. Your thoughts land on the teasing of your co-workers who have grown to notice the crush you have on Han. Was it that obvious? Did he know? It was just a silly crush it wasn't like you planned to confess to him that would be insane.

"Well, this is the building I live in." you motion your hand to the apartment complex about 100 feet in front of the two of you. He laughs "This is crazy but my friend actually lives in that apartment building right there." he points to a gray building across the street. "Oh wow, how close! Funny that we have never run into each other around here then. Well... I hope I get to see you soon. Min will be there tomorrow if you stop by the café." he looks at you through the lid of his cap "Will you be there tomorrow?" you shake your head "I have the next two days off actually! I'm pretty excited even though all I'll probably do is sleep and catch up on some chores." he smiles at your excitement over your uninteresting plans. "well if your free tomorrow night there's this new horror movie out. I remember you said your favorite genre was horror... would you like to watch it together?" you watch him shove his hands in his pockets as the question processes through your brain. He bites his lower lip as he waits for your response. "I'd love to" At this point your cheeks are so hot you are sure he can feel the heat radiate off of you. You truly cannot fathom the fact that Han of all people has just asked you on a date.

"Really? Great! I will pick you up at 5 if that works with you. Can I have your number? I have actually been wanting to ask you for a while but wasn't sure if it was appropriate." you laugh as you type your number into his phone. How sweet you think to yourself. "gosh you're so cute" Your eyes widen when you realize that you said that out loud. "I think you're cute too," he says as he adjusts his cap. "Thanks for walking me home. I look forward to our date tomorrow" you place a kiss on his cheek and head inside your building. A deep breath escapes your mouth. As you unlock your apartment door you realize that you just kissed Han on the cheek. After he just asked you on a date.

You raise your hands towards your face and smile widely. This felt like a dream. You start to convince yourself that you've created this whole situation in your head. That was until your phone started buzzing in your pocket. Your smile widens as you read the message "I'll pick you up at 5 tomorrow." a chuckle escapes your mouth when another message comes in. "This is Han btw".

[snovaness]

I haven't written anything in so long that I think I'm going to post a very quick little drabble later not sure who about though

[snovaness]

Tutor

Masterlist

10. Friendzone

Previous part

Sakusa in no way, shape, or form needs a tutor, what he really needs is someone to take notes for him while he is away at games. When your academic advisor offers you a tutoring position to help increase your GPA you come in contact with the star volleyball player. Through text messages and notes you manage to form a strange relationship with Sakusa. Unfortunately for him Bokuto is one of your closest friends meaning that your paths eventually cross at a MSBY party. Drunk nights can lead to some unlikely friendships.

Taglist:

@missalienqueen @mrswhitethornbelikov @seecrape-sama98 @thissilverbadger @gay-for-yachi-hitoka @bnha-meme-sanctuary @galagcica @kurosiee @the-golden-jhope @erinoikawa @kiyoomivirus @camcam1617 @kenmas-gf @cutiepatoodie @putmeinyourdeathnote @listless-motion @mindofess @bebetiny @tanakasimpcorner @boymoansruinedmylife @ish-scribbles @catwithangerissues @freyafolkvangr @bongofrito @90s-belladonna @kaieoh @iheartkuroorin @fandomsgotmefucked

[snovaness]

You're finally posting again!! I missed the tutor smau smm<33

Yes! Sorry I’ve just kinda been feeling ehh lately and then I realized I have to finish Tutor! I just wasn’t really sure where to take the story. I have an outline but ended up not following it so it’s taking me a bit to figure out and rearrange everything but I’m hoping to at least post once a week maybe even twice just so I can finish it because I also have a !Chef Bakugo smau planned but posting two at a time would just confuse me lmao

[snovaness]

AHAHAHA omg y/n. plssss sakusa is really trying here and she’s so oblivious

Lmao yes everyone is telling me that she’s oblivious but I just think it’s realistic because she’s friends with so many guys who have never really seen her in a romantic light so she just doesn’t think it’s a possibility. Plus I don’t wanna make it too easy on Sakusa considering the first few chapters he was not into Y/n that much

[snovaness]

Tutor

Masterlist

9. Live tweet

Previous part

Sakusa in no way, shape, or form needs a tutor, what he really needs is someone to take notes for him while he is away at games. When your academic advisor offers you a tutoring position to help increase your GPA you come in contact with the star volleyball player. Through text messages and notes you manage to form a strange relationship with Sakusa. Unfortunately for him Bokuto is one of your closest friends meaning that your paths eventually cross at a MSBY party. Drunk nights can lead to some unlikely friendships.

Taglist:

@missalienqueen @mrswhitethornbelikov @seecrape-sama98 @thissilverbadger @gay-for-yachi-hitoka @bnha-meme-sanctuary @galagcica @kurosiee @the-golden-jhope @erinoikawa @kiyoomivirus @camcam1617 @kenmas-gf @cutiepatoodie @putmeinyourdeathnote @listless-motion @mindofess @bebetiny @tanakasimpcorner @boymoansruinedmylife @ish-scribbles @bongofrito @catwithangerissues @freyafolkvangr @fandomsgotmefucked @90s-belladonna @kaieoh @iheartkuroorin

[snovaness]

Baseball Atsumu

[snovaness]

get vaccinated, the miya twins said so

[snovaness]

hbd u gremlin