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jakesimfromstatefarm · 20 hours

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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 ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

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 ˂ )⸝♡

tagged: @climbingmandevillas @byeoltual @junhuiste-ficrec

cue all the tags now...

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nerdy-novelist017 · 2 days

Text

Soaked (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Reader pt 8)

Hello, my lovelies! Sorry this took forever to write and post but I’ve been very busy with real life (ew) and I’m actually posting this while I’m on vacation. I wrote it on the plane and am posting in the car so please be kind if you see any mistakes hehe 😉

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 4.7k+

Summary- Benny’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to marry you, but with such different lives, you’re not so sure it will be as easy as he claims.

You felt the wind surge around you as Benny accelerated down the main road, his motorcycle roaring beneath you both. The world blurred past in a whirlwind of colors, but all you could focus on was the way your heart lifted, how a thrill of excitement shot through you as you zoomed past the rest of the gang. He did it just because he knew it’d make you giggle. And you did, the sound escaping you in a way that felt so carefree, so full of joy especially as you shot past Johnny and the others, leaving them in your dirt.

The wind was relentless, blowing your hair out of its carefully manicured braid, but you didn’t find yourself caring much anymore. The days spent with Benny had a way of shifting everything you thought had mattered. The things that once held so much weight – social status, gossip, public appearances – no longer seemed as important anymore. With Benny, it was almost like discovering a whole new world. No, not a new world. The same streets passed beneath the tires, the same faces you once worried about still existed. The world was still the same, but it was how he viewed it that felt so different. He didn’t care what others thought about him, didn’t pay attention to their expectations. He lived in his own world, surrounded by others like him that didn’t conform to the societal molds – people that you wouldn’t have even approached just based on their appearance. You never considered yourself a very judgemental person, but because of Benny, you have met and befriended people you could have never imagined.

That’s one of the things you loved about Benny. He wasn’t like anyone you had ever met before. He was different. And you were beginning to love that too.

He pulled off the main road, stopping in his signature spot in front of the club house. The roar of the rest of the gang pulling up sounded in the distance as Benny helped you off the bike. He held his grip on your hand, lacing his own fingers through yours as he pulled you gently into the bar. You followed him inside where the Vandals’ laughter and chatter soon filled the air. A familiar buzz of camaraderie enveloped the place, and before long, you found yourself seated around the table with a few of the core members. Benny was close – as always – with his arm draped over your shoulder.

“Hey, Bunny,” Cockroach’s voice cut through the sea of noise as he leaned forward and used his beer bottle to point at you. “When are you finally gonna say yes to our boy Benny, here?”

You stiffened slightly, the weight of the question hanging in the air and drawing the attention of the others at the table.

“Oh yeah,” Corky piped up, one eyebrow playfully cocked in a challenge. “He’s been asking, what, 100 times now? What’s the holdup? He’s not getting any younger, ya know?”

Heat filled your face at their teasing. Though Corky’s words were a bit of an exaggeration, they weren’t technically wrong. Since your kiss behind the clubhouse, Benny has asked you to marry him almost every day, sometimes more than once in a day. It had started by him mentioning married life in casual conversation, and you jokingly pointed out that he hadn’t actually proposed to begin with – not traditionally. And you were shocked to see him abandon everything he was doing in the moment to ask you to marry him. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but something deeper inside you caused your heart to flutter nervously. Since then, he’s asked several times, some in passing, a casual remark slipped into the conversation. Other times, he’d pause what he was doing, drop to one knee and grin up at you as if he were waiting for you to give in. But each time you’d laugh it off, brush it aside as him being unserious.

“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment?” you replied as you timidly played with the chain of your necklace, trying to deflect the attention.

“The right moment?” Cockroach parroted in disbelief. “He’s been proposin’ left and right for a week. Hell, I’d have said yes after the first time if it were me!”

The group laughed, and you tensed under Benny’s arm, wanting to melt into the floor from embarrassment. Benny squeezed your hand reassuringly, and he leaned, his voice dropping to a low murmur that was only meant for you, “They don’t mean nothin’ by that, you know that.”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. He was right, you knew that. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the constant razzing – especially with this particular subject – was start to weigh on you.

“Yeah, c’mon, Bunny,” Cal chimed in from across the way, “What’s it gonna take? Benny’s a catch! He’s got the bike, the looks, the . . . mommy’s issues. If you don’t say yes soon, you might lose your chance.”

That playful jab was too much for Benny who stiffened next to you. You expected him to get angry, to blow up like you had seen your father do when he was upset. But instead, Benny leaned forward, eyes narrowing with a playful glint that you had come to adore. The table was buzzing with laughter, but he wasn’t about to let the spotlight stay on you for too long. Without missing a beat, he flashed a grin at Corky, his hand raised as he said, “Alright, alright. But let’s not pretend you all ain’t desperate for a distraction since none of you can keep a bike upright without fallin’ on your asses.”

The table roared with laughter and Corky’s mouth fell open in mock offense. “That was one time! And I had an oil slick!”

Johnny immediately jumped in, “Yeah Corky, an oil slick you created when your bike was leakin’ everywhere.”

Laughter erupted again and you shot Benny a grateful look as the guys started ribbing Corky about his infamous fall. Benny’s eyes met yours briefly, his thumb brushing your hand under the table in a silent message: I’ve got you. Most of the group knew you were shy and did not appreciate being the center of attention in a crowd, and they respected that. However, there were a few class clowns (as Benny called them) who loved to tease you, knowing it could get a reaction without fail. But Benny never let it go on for long, always shutting them down when he recognized your discomfort.

They’ve never teased you about marriage though. You had to wonder if Benny had voiced his irritation to them at some point or if they had picked up on your hesitation organically. Either way, it left you feeling bad. Excusing yourself, you wiggled out of Benny’s grasp as you stood and made your way for the restroom, needing a moment to breathe, to clear your head. But just as you reached the back of the bar, a voice stopped you.

“You ain’t gotta worry about what they say to you,” Funny Sonny stood leaning casually against the bar top as he sipped a glass of whiskey. “That just means they like you, accept you.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder at the table of rowdy bikers. “I’m just not . . . used to it. All the teasin’.”

Sonny nodded, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes as he grinned. “You’ll get used to it. Won’t be long till you’re the one throwing out the first jabs.”

He said it so nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious course of action, as if you weren’t from completely different worlds. You furrowed your brows, eyes casting downwards as you admitted, “I’m not so sure about that. I’m not at all like you guys.”

“You don’t gotta be like us to be with us. We’re family here and family means lookin’ out for each other, even the ones who came from different backgrounds,” he said, his voice lowering a register to a bit more of a serious tone.

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, the concept so foreign yet so familiar. Family. You knew what that was, you had one, you were loved by one. But for some reason, it felt like it meant something different with the Vandals. They chose their family, stood by them despite no blood relation. Your parents loved you, you knew that. They showed it in their own ways every day. But by default, they had to love you. With the Vandals, they chose to care for each other, chose to look out for each other. In a way, it almost seemed more powerful, more profound.

Being Benny’s girl didn’t just mean he alone had your best interest at heart. It also meant having the rest of the Vandals on your side too, all of them looking out for you. You weren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced such an intense loyalty before, even from blood relatives. And it left you with a warm feeling in your chest.

When you returned to the table, Benny was already standing as if he were waiting for you. His eyes met yours with a slight unease, almost like he thought you wouldn’t come back, like he thought you were so upset that you’d sneak out the backdoor.

“Wanna go for a night ride?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand extended out for you.

Your heart squeezed at his thoughtfulness. He knew how much you were growing to enjoy the feeling of blazing down the empty streets under a star-filled sky with him. A smile tugged at your lips, and you took his hand without hesitation, nodding.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand slid into his own. You were vaguely aware of the groans and exaggerated protests from the table about the night being still young, but you didn’t hesitate to follow Benny as he led you to the door. He pulled you along to his Harley, the cool and fresh air a welcome change.

The tension from earlier still lingered as Benny’s hand touched your leg, helping you onto the back of the bike. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back, finding solace in the familiar scent from his jacket.

He drove you around the city, stars and stop lights shining above, engine roaring below. He eventually pulled off the main drag, heading down a quieter road that led out of town. The blacktop blurred beneath you as he slowed the speed to more of a lazy joyride. He took a familiar turn, stopping at the small pull off area before a bridge. The sound of the engine faded as he brought the bike to a stop, the air filling with crickets’ song. The night’s air was breezy, but a welcome change from the hot, loud atmosphere of the clubhouse.

Benny dismounted first, reaching out to help you down. His touch – lingering longer than necessary – against your arm felt electric, sending a jolt of butterflies to your stomach, his eyes searching your face as if he was trying to read your thoughts. The two of you walked over the concrete bridge, pausing once in the middle. You leaned over the railing, getting lost in the gentle swirl of the water below. But Benny was lost in the sight of you.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low, the usual playful teasing replaced by something softer and reserved only for you.

With your heart beating hard at his gentle tone, you nodded. “I’m fine.”

He frowned, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. “I know the guys can be a bit much. I don’t like when they tease you like that. I didn’t mean for them to make you uncomfortable.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words, knowing that wanting to protect you was something he took very seriously, even if it meant from his own friends, his own family.

“I know,” you responded softly, leaning your chin on your hand over the railing.

“I’ll talk to them, make sure they won’t raz you like that anymore,” he promised, his expression serious.

“It’s not that. It’s just . . . I don’t know. It’s a lot to get used to,” you admitted gently. Before Benny, you’d never even been in a bar before, never ridden a motorcycle, never stayed out past curfew. He was a completely different experience than you were accustomed to. And now he wanted you to marry, after only knowing him for a few weeks. He wanted to be your husband, your partner for life. Your life felt like a bit of a whirlwind ever since you met him, but you wanted to be certain it wasn’t just fun because it was new.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes tracing your features, his hand resting over your own. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, something in him conflicted. Finally, he released a soft sigh, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. “You don’t have to answer them, you know. Hell, you don’t have to answer me. Not till you’re ready.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you breathed in his scent – leather, smoke and something uniquely Benny. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I . . . ”

Benny pulled back slightly, his fingers tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Hey, you don’t owe anyone an explanation, not even me. You’ll say yes when you’re ready. And when that time comes, I’ll be here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as it was your turn to kid. “How do you know I’ll say yes?”

Benny’s smile was gentle but still roguishly confident. His hand lingered on your cheek, his fingers tracing down the curve of your jaw as if he were mapping every detail of you. “I just know. When you feel it – when it’s real – you just know.”

He said it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if love were the most uncomplicated concept. You didn’t understand that, couldn’t see it that way. You’d seen the love your parents shared and that was beautiful and kind but it was also messy and cruel more often than not. And you understood that your parents were not the only representation of what love and marriage was supposed to be, but it was a constant presence in your life. They didn’t have perfect love, not like what you’d see in the movies or read in books. And you wondered if maybe you were giving too high of expectations for what love was supposed to be, but what you felt when you were around Benny . . . well, it felt exactly like the books described.

The way he looked at you, as if you were the most important thing in the world, made you feel so seen. The way he listened to you as if you were the most entertaining show, made you feel so heard. And the truth was undeniable: you were falling for Benny faster than you thought possible. It was terrifying. Benny was all fire and freedom, a rebel who didn’t play by the rules, who followed his own path with reckless abandon. And you admired that about him, but the thought of stepping into his world permanently felt like stepping off a ledge into the unknown.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asked, pulling you back into the present.

You pulled back slightly, biting your lip in contemplation before speaking your mind, “Don’t you wonder if there are other girls out there that you haven’t even met yet? Girls who are more suited for you?”

He shook his head, his voice light as he said, “Nah, I know you’re the only one for me, kid.”

“But marriage is serious. It’s forever.”

His hand slid down to your hip, turning you to face him fully, his expression solemn. “I never . . . I never thought marriage was real. The way I saw my mom and old man together . . . what they had wasn’t love. And I realized that at an early age. I didn’t think it was something that was real, just a bunch of fairytale bullshit you tell little kids. The girls I’ve been with, girls that may have been more suited for me, have never made me feel what I feel with you, Bunny. This is serious to me too because it proves everything I’ve never believed in.”

Emotion caught in the back of your throat as you pictured the man standing before you as just a boy living in a toxic household, an unloving home. It made you want to hold him tight, to shield him from the rest of the world. The man who held you so gently, who took you for night rides just to cheer you up. The man who came to your bake sale when nobody else did. The man who promised to drive slow so as not to scare you. The man who said he’d follow you all the way to California so that you didn’t have to go by yourself. The man who taught you about his hobbies with eagerness, and listened to yours with attentiveness.

He deserved to be loved in the same way he loved. But the tragic thing was that he didn’t see that, couldn’t comprehend someone loving him like that. He was damaged by his childhood, and you realized that he didn’t think he was worthy of repair. But you’d show him that he was, that he was worthy of everything he never had.

Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently cup his face, and his breath hitched in his throat. There was a shift in his expression – his usual teasing and bravado now replaced with some raw and unguarded as though he was offering you a glimpse into a deeper part of him, one rarely ever shown to anyone.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You’re not just some girl to me, Bunny. You know that, right?”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t playing around now, not hiding behind his usual flirty quips. His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You swallowed thickly. “But what if I mess this up? What if I’m the one who can’t do this?”

Benny’s brows furrowed and he lifted a hand to brush across your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding. “You won’t. You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

“You’re making it sound so easy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you didn’t quite believe him.

Benny could feel your tremble, the shaky laugh betraying your nerves you were trying so hard to hide. He could sense your heart racing, and he wanted so desperately to be the one to soothe it, to take away the hesitation in your eyes. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, the soft curve of it making his heart ache in his chest. He loved how your lips quivered just slightly under his touch. He loved making you blush, loved teasing you until you looked at him like you were annoyed or completely at his mercy. But this . . . this was different. His touch lingered on your lip, slow and almost reverent as he savored the way you responded to him. It wasn’t about teasing anymore – it was about showing you what you meant to him.

“It is,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher than he intended “It’s easy because it’s you.”

The air between you felt electric as his hand slid down the curve of your neck, his fingers lingering there, feeling the steady thrum of your heartbeat that seemed to match his own wild one. He ducked his head slightly as he whispered, “You’re scared. But you don’t need to be.”

He meant it, more than he meant anything in his life. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, searching for any sign of doubt, any sign that you didn’t feel the same way he did. Your eyes – wide and uncertain – met his, and Benny felt the weight of his words over them both.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, your soft voice almost disappearing in the night.

And how could he explain it, especially since he’s never been good at explaining his feelings? How could he put into words what was so abundantly clear to him? That you made everything – even the most outrageous things – seem possible. That with you, he didn’t feel like just some fuck-up waiting for the next diaster. With you he felt grounded, like he belonged somewhere. Like you saw him for more than just the wild, reckless kid everyone else saw.

“Because you make me sure,” he responded with a gentle, encouraging smile as his hands moved to tilt your chin upwards to him. “You make my life feel like it’s supposed to.”

His gaze moved down to your mouth once more as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and he simply couldn’t resist anymore. He closed the gap, brushing his lips so softly against your own. The kiss was gentle, tender, but as you responded to his touch, the need that had been simmering inside him for so long flared to life. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, smiling into the kiss when he heard your slight gasp.

His heart pounded in his chest as the world seemed to fade away briefly until it was just you and him, just this. He never wanted to stop, never wanted to let you go.

But you did eventually pull away, the need to breathe becoming all consuming. Breathlessly, he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as he focused on slowing his pulse. His hands remained on your waist, holding you like you might slip away if he let go.

“You see?” he whispered as his lips brushing against your forehead softly. “It’s easy being with you.”

You giggled and his heart soared at the melody. It took everything in him not to pull you back into another kiss, not to hold onto you like you were the only thing that kept him grounded.

His lips still tingled from the kiss, and he could taste the faint sweetness of your breath, the softness of your lips. It wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough for Benny. He wanted more of you. He’d never wanted anything like he wanted you, never craved anyone like he craved you. It was almost unbearable, like every second where he wasn’t touching you was a second wasted.

And yet, he knew you were scared. He could see it in the way you looked down at your shoes, could hear it in the timidity of your voice. It only made him want to protect you more, to make you see that being with him would never be something you had to fear. But he didn’t know how to say that without sounding like he was pushing, without making you feel like you were being rushed into a decision that was as much about you as it was him.

But damn if he didn’t want to make you his.

He opened his eyes and pulled back enough to look at you face again, to really take you in. And my god, the way you were looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes made his chest tighten. And you didn’t even realize how much power you had over him. One look, one smile, and he was a goner.

Before either of you could speak, thunder cracked off in the distance, bringing you both back to the present, back to the rest of the world. You glanced up at the dark clouds that blew in to cover the stars, wondering how long you had stood on this bridge with Benny.

“Guess we should get back,” you said sheepishly.

“Guess so,” Benny replied with a lazy grin as though the storm could come crashing down and he’d still be perfectly content standing here with you.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” you asked as you walked to his bike, glancing up at the thick, dark clouds blowing in from the west.

“Nah,” he said as he swung a leg over the bike with that signature confidence that made your heart race. “We’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.

******

By the time Benny pulled up to your house, rain was pouring from the sky like a waterfall, fat and heavy droplets splattering onto the sidewalk. Despite wearing Benny’s Vandals jacket, the rain had completely soaked you. Your hair, which had been meticulously pinned up just hours ago, was plastered to your face, and your dress clung to your body like a second skin.

You didn’t wait for him to shut off the bike before you hopped off and tugged on his sleeve.

“C’mon!” You laughed, tugging on Benny’s sleeve as you ran for the safety of your porch overhang. Your heels splashed through the water pooling on the blacktop, and he followed quickly behind, his warm hands finding your waist to steady you from falling as you both stumbled beneath the overhang.

Breathless and grinning like an idiot, you turned to face him, and you were momentarily stunned by the sight. Rainwater rolled down from his usually swept up hair, sliding down the curve of his cheekbones and falling off his jawline. He only wore a whote t shirt, the wet fabric turning almost transparent as it clung to every ridge, every toned muscle and you blinked before your gaze shot back up to his face. Even as wet as a drowned rat, he still managed to look so effortlessly sexy.

He was grinning at you with that boyish expression, and heat filled your face at the realization that you were just as soaked as he was but definitely not as pretty a sight. You probably looked like a mess — makeup smeared, hair ruined — but he was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Not gonna rain, huh?” you teased, quirking an eyebrow at the heavy rainfall just off your porch.

“Just a light sprinkle,” he returned easily, but you noticed he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Do you wanna come in?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “To dry off?”

He sobered instantly, his gaze raking over your form before moving to your front door. He’d never been inside your house, never seen where you call home, where you lay down at night and replay your memories of him. There was never really an option for him to be inside your house. He’d never met your parents — despite asking multiple times to meet them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put neither your parents nor Benny though that. Deep down, you knew your father would never approve of Benny, never give him his blessing. It was a disaster waiting to happen when he found out that you were dating a biker. You begged your mother to keep it a secret to which she obliged, but you knew it wouldn’t be long till he found out.

Benny took a full step back from you, hesitation obvious in his face, his voice low and almost regretful he said. “I—I better not, Bun.”

Normally, you wouldn’t ask again after being denied, wouldn’t be so bold. But you weren’t the same girl you were a few weeks ago before you met Benny. Emboldened by the perfect opportunity to have him inside your home, to share a piece of yourself with him, you stepped forward.

You took a step forward, your voice soft but sure. “My parents aren’t home. C’mon, just to dry off and wait till the rain lets up a little. You can’t drive in that anyway. It’s not safe and I won’t let you.”

Benny released a breath that sounded a lot like a laugh as he shook his head, clearly conflicted by your invitation. And for a moment, you thought he might shake his head and turn away. You thought he might face the rainstorm and leave you behind.

But instead, he nodded and your heart soared at the small gesture. Filled with hopeful energy, you shot him a smile, moving to open the front door and invite him inside your home, inside your world.

-Tag List-

@beebeechaos @imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @justsomewritingblog @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @mrsalwayswrite @thedreamingfish99

#i just love a good cliffhanger #Benny is such a lover boy #benny cross #benny x bunny #the bikeriders #austin butler #benny cross x reader #austin butler x reader #imagine #benny x reader #austin butler fandom #the bikeriders imagine #the bikeriders x you

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yan-maid-cafe · 2 days

Text

Yandere Monster Fucker Concepts

Not a yandere monster. A yandere monster fucker with a darling monster.

Yandere Royal that gets kidnapped by the big snarling dragon. Only to become obsessed with you and not wanting to be saved. Anytime the hero comes, they alert their big dragon love. Watching as you burn the royal's armies to a crisp. They just want a happy little future between them, you, and your children. Don't question them, they will find a way.

Yandere Cult Leader and their eldritch god. They found you when they were at their lowest and viewed you as their saviour. They know that you're not a "good god", it's hard to hold that belief after sacrificing human life to you, but they don't care. They'll sacrifice countless cultists to you if it means that they can be in your good graces. They can't wait for you to finally arrive into their world, you'll destroy everything in your path and create your paradise. And maybe if they pray enough you'll make them your spouse. Or your pet. They'll take either at this point.

Yandere Pirate that unknowingly enters siren territory while sailing with his crew. Crashing into the rocks, leaving them stranded on the damaged ship. Despite trying to fight off the alluring melody, one by one his men begin to jump off the side into the water to be ripped apart by the monsters. Until finally the captain falls victim too, jumping into the water and feeling themself submerge. Only to be met face to face with the siren that had led them here, but they're beautiful, more beautiful then anyone the captain had seen. Their arms outstretched as if to embrace them. But at that moment, the captain was pulled out of the water by another ship of men. They crew quickly covering his ears before he could hear the song again. Able to read the men's lips as they explained that they were headed back to land. But all the captain could focus on was the beast he had just seen, and just how badly he wanted to jump in again.

Yandere Villain that works alongside a vast array of monsters, but only one catches their eye. One of the small kobolds that they had recruited. From the looks of it, they appeared to be the leader of their little group. They were actually starting to think that those kobolds didn't even listen to them, just their little leader. Which was less then ideal, that disloyalty would just make a coup easier to perform. So the villain needed to get closer to the reptilian leader, if they could get closer to them, than maybe they could redirect that loyalty towards themself. But they were cought off guard by the scrappy little thing, they weren't the brightest but they were very cunning. Having set traps all over the villain's lair in case any wannabe heros showed up. And they seemed to have memorized the villain's plans and were already getting their army in on it. Before they even knew it, the villain finally understood why the other Kobolds picked this one to be their leader. And suddenly the little reptiles didn't seem to dispossable.

I have a lot of yandere ideas but I'm too lazy to write them all. So I'm thinking of posting more concepts like this so I can post more often. It was much easier to write for me.

Also I tried to keep both the yandere and the reader gender nuetral. Which was easier said then done. So if this makes no sense, I'm sorry. I tried to make it work.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere concept

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min-imum · 3 days

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FLUFFY GYU SMUT !!!!

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: gn!reader, this is actually so fluffy because i love domesticity and i’m a sucker for domestic fluff but also mingyu is too hot so i ended up being a smut account but but but TIYA I MEANT AN ASK WITH CONTENT 😞😞😞😞 it’s okay this means i can write WHATEVER I WANT!!!!!!!! DOMESTIC MINGYU!!!!!!!, super soft sex, super sweet mingyu, AUGH its vanilla and it’s cute, also i literally added tags to this in advance because my dumbass completely forgot to add tags in my previous post and i was like hmm it’s a suspiciously low number of notes for the amount of time this has been up OHHHHHHH no tags., second time i’ve had to rewrite a fic because tumblr said nope sorry we cant save this AND THEN IT JUST DIDNT SAVE EVEN THOUGH I ALREADY SAVED THE DRAFT EARLIER AND I WAS JUST ADDING ON :( im being so fr the first draft was SO much better on god and it was longer too but i forgot what i wrote rAAA

mingyu — your sweet, darling boyfriend. you love him with all your heart and you know he loves you too.

he shows you just how much he loves you all the time. you know he loves you when he crawls up at dawn to make you breakfast. you know he loves you when he crouches to tie your shoelaces for you. you know he loves you when he sends you sweet texts throughout the day, and when he purchases souvenirs from all his travels for you, and when he wraps his big arms around you on a bad day to cushion you and comfort you.

you know he loves you when he makes love to you like this, slow and sweet and filled with emotion.

he kisses you slowly, languidly, and you moan into his mouth as his cock presses into you inch by inch. when he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are filled with adoration. it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

when you finally take him to the hilt, he pauses, litters kisses over your face and neck, presses his lips to your jaw, bites gently at your earlobe, and waits ever so patiently for you to get used to his size inside you.

“you can move, gyu,” you whisper. he kisses you once more as his hips start to move, grunts falling from his lips with each thrust. he leans his forehead against yours tenderly and bumps your noses together affectionately.

his hands roam your body, squeezing gently and feeling you up. he revels in every moan and whine that escapes from your lips. he nuzzles against your cheek sweetly.

as much as you like the rougher, meaner sex you have with him, this sweet love-making is your favourite. he never fails to remind you how much he loves you and how special you are to him.

he presses his nose into your hair and breathes in your scent.

“did you use my shampoo, baby?”

“mhm,” you smile sheepishly. “sorry.”

“don’t apologise. i like it when you smell like me.” he giggles, expression absolutely lovesick. you blush, shy and contented.

“i like smelling like you too.”

he has the sweetest smile on his face, eyes glittery and lips curled, as he fucks you with all the love in the world. he loves making you feel good, he loves taking care of you. he loves you.

soon, you’re cumming over his cock with a long whine, and he fucks you through it. he always makes sure you cum first. and then he follows quickly, rolling his hips into you one last time and emptying himself into you.

finally, he rolls the two of you over so you’re lying on his chest, his cock still buried inside you.

“hi,” you giggle.

“you’re so cute,” mingyu coos. “my adorable baby. i love you so much.”

you smile, eyes bright with happiness and satisfaction. “i love you too.”

“let’s get up soon, okay? i have to clean you up and change the sheets,” he murmurs.

as always, your sweet boyfriend never fails to take care of you and show you how much he loves you.

“okay,” you hum. “five more minutes?”

he strokes your back affectionately and presses a tender kiss to your head. “five more minutes.”

#min-imum #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #mansaenetwork

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elllisaaa · 3 days

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hi eli!! hope you’re well 💖💖 was hoping you could write husband headcannon for dino? including nsfw hc? 🫣 i know you wrote bf hc dino but i feel like husband hc would hit differently ykno lol tysm!! 💖💖

HUSBAND!CHAN hits different, that's true, because if as your boyfriend he was whipped, now he's a simp and he isn't ashamed of it.

he's so proud that you're his wife that he doesn't even call you by your name anymore, always saying my wife this, my wife that, because he cannot get enough of saying it, knowing that you're his forever brings a smile to his face and a warm feeling in his chest everytime. chan is also a sucker for the way you present him as your husband, and it's like he's never gonna get used to it. even if now that you're married he should trust you even more and feel less possessive because he knows you're his through and through, it gets worse. everytime you're out together, he needs to have his arm wrapped around your waist or your shoulders, showing off to everyone that you're taken, showing off his ring to anyone. even in private, chan is a lot more clingy and touchy (which is surprising because he was already very clingy and touchy before) but now it is necessary for him to be with you all the time, he never lets you go. and now that you're his wife, he can easily take you with him during tours and any event. it allows you to travel too, seeing so many cities and countries you didn't think you would ever visit.

"we're going to berlin next week honey, i'm taking you with me."

chan still feels shy sometimes when you compliment him, but now, he has found some ways to make you blush too. now, he's the one to fluster you most of the time instead. he's the type to retweet the posts saying "goodnight to my wife, fuck everyone else" without feeling any guilt because it's true. he takes the opportunity that he's your husband now to take care of you and spoil you even more. the way he sees it is that he has to be even more worthy of you and not make you regret marrying him. he buys you jewelry, clothes, books, flowers, everything that you want and need, and even what you didn't even asked for, he's always one step ahead of you to make you smile. you would've thought that after so many times, you would've been used to his affection and his tendency to spoil you, but you weren't, and chan loves how you react just like the first day when he gives you something new.

"this necklace is so pretty on you " - "but channie, it was so expensive…" - "don't worry about it my love, i just love to make my gorgeous wife happy."

HUSBAND!CHAN whose sex drive is even higher now that you're fully his, now that you live together.

chan cannot take his hands off you anymore. the day of your wedding was the happiest day of his life, yes, without any doubt. but as the night came to an end paired with the many drinks he had, by the time everyone left, he could hardly holdback from fucking you right there. chan definitely fucked you while you were still wearing your wedding dress and he was still wearing his suit. and then he spoiled you all night, only really falling asleep as the sun rose up through the window. also, during your honeymoon, chan had the same energy going on. he spent so much time in between your thighs because he couldn't get enough of your taste and the way you were his wife now.

"come on honey, please just let me give you one more. you can do that for me right ? my gorgeous wife…"

at first, he was scared that a routine would settle in your intimate times just as it did with your everyday life. and he didn't want things to get boring, so i think chan would probably want to try a lot of new things with you. he asks you to make a list of all the things you wanna try out, and he also makes a list. whenever the two of you have the time and the energy for it, you pick something from your lists to spice things up. you love that chan tries to keep things interesting, but you also do things to surprise him too and he melts down from the inside everytime. a lot of people told him that once you're married, nothing's refreshing anymore, but chan always brags about the fact that he never once got bored with you. there's also a lot of public sex with him once he's your husband, because as i've stated before, he cannot take his hands off you. be that at the fancy restaurant he took you out to, at a birthday party of one of your friends, in the middle of the park you planned your picnic date to. every occasion is worth pushing his dick inside of you.

"fuck, yes, bend over just like that for me. gonna make you scream my name for everyone to hear."

#eli answering your questions #eli's anonie #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #lee chan #dino #chan x reader #chan smut #chan hard hours #chan hard thoughts #dino x reader #dino smut #dino hard hours #dino hard thoughts

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cacodaemonia · 1 day

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AO3 / ff.net + Artstation 'concept artist' scam

FYI, I personally know two people who got scam comments from the same AO3 account today alone. They were very similar to the ff.net comments in this reddit post, and go something like:

As a concept artist, I really enjoyed your story! The characters were compelling, and the plot kept me engaged from start to finish. Your writing has so much depth, and I could really envision the world you’ve created. While reading, I got some ideas for potential artwork to bring your characters or key scenes to life. I’d love to chat more about a possible collaboration if you’re interested

The main difference between this and a previous wave of similar comments is that this is from a logged-in account as opposed to a guest.

I can't send a support ticket because I haven't gotten any comments from this particular account. Obviously, AO3 volunteers don't need to be flooded with more support tickets right now, anyway, and I'm sure other people have already reported this user. But do yourself a favor and just block Evelynaddison92 on AO3 like I'm about to. The account is 100% a scammer, and there are certainly more accounts like this on AO3, but that's the only one I know of atm.

#ao3 #scam #internet scam #artstation #archive of our own #comments #scam comments #fyi

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svt-luna · 1 day

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heyyyy, i was wondering how would luna and hannie react to eachother being sick/ mobbed by fans.i am sure the members are very protective over luna but hannie will be extra protective and always be attentive over luna for each and every stuff. Protective boyfie hannie sounda cuteeeeee. my heart 💞 💜

𝜗℘ NOTHING MATTERS BUT YOU

synopsis: When exhaustion and vulnerability collide, Jeonghan's quiet devotion proves that even in the midst of chaos, only one thing truly matters.

warnings: slight angst, sick!Luna, cursing, crying, fatigue, flu, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of vomiting, claustrophobia, mobs, paparazzi, frustration, doubts, mentions of hate, overall fluff, boyfriend material!Jeonghan, fluff, fluff, fluff, more tooth-rotting fluff, a rollercoaster of emotions, posted on Hannie’s enlistment (might invoke crying because of that fact.)

I’ve been getting a lot of sick!Luna requests so I have mixed all the ideas given to me in this one-shot, so I hope you guys love it 🤍 also the songs I was listening to on a loop as I was writing this are: ‘nothing matters but you’, ‘pov’, ‘imperfect for you’, and ‘sweet nothing’— so you can listen to those songs if you want!!

also, I purposely waited to post this till this very day 🥹 I really hope it gives you comfort for this dreaded day… Hannie might be gone for a while but I hope my posts make up for it (this is how I cope) 🤍

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pounding.

Luna couldn’t tell if it was coming from the deep ache in her head, the constant pounding in her ears from the screams surrounding them, or the heavy thud of her own footsteps against the tiled floor.

Maybe it was all of them all together.

Each beat seemed to blur into the next, a constant, overwhelming drum that wouldn’t let her think clearly.

All fourteen members of SEVENTEEN moved in unison through the airport on their way to LA for KCON 2019, security guiding them toward their gate. Flanked by bodyguards, they were shielded from the sea of fans pressing in, screaming their names, reaching out to touch them, phones held high to capture a fleeting moment.

Ahead of her walked Seungcheol, their leader, his tall frame cutting through the crowd like a steady force. Behind her, Jeonghan’s footsteps echoed close, his presence always within reach, always steady.

But none of it helped the dull throb pulsing through her temples. Luna’s head was killing her. The flashes from the cameras set up by the media didn’t help either; each flicker of light sent sharp jolts through her skull, making her stomach churn with nausea.

She was sick— she knew that much.

It had been building for days, the flu creeping up on her from the constant traveling, the back-to-back practice sessions and the late nights spent rehearsing until her body couldn’t take it anymore. But now, walking in between her members, with hundreds of eyes watching her every move, she had to keep it together.

At least she’s dressed great— that’s what Luna told herself to keep her spirits up… it really wasn't working. Fashionable as ever, she was dressed in her usual chic, comfy airport style, but today her outfit served more than just looks. The oversized fluffy bucket hat cast a shadow over her eyes, concealing the exhaustion in them, while the face mask helped hide the pallor of her skin and the grimace that threatened to show every time her head pounded.

Normally, Luna would wave at the fans, offer a smile, or maybe even pose for a photo. But today, she only managed a few weak waves before lowering her head again, hoping the fans would think she was just sleepy and not worry about her health.

The closer they got to the gate, the tighter the space seemed to become.

Luna lifted her head slightly, catching sight of the crowd pressing in. Fans were pushing to get a glimpse, their hands outstretched, desperate to touch any part of the group, and security was doing their best to hold them back.

Her flu plus the noise, the lights, and the bodies crowding in— it all felt suffocating.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Luna's chest tightened as her breath quickened, each inhale feeling shallow and unsatisfying.

Normally, in moments like this, Luna would do her breathing exercises. She’d ground herself, focus on something steady, and calm her racing heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

But today, everything felt wrong.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her body was tired, too tired to fight back the waves of anxiety threatening to consume her.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her vision blurred slightly, and the pounding grew louder, and harsher until she finally understood— this pounding wasn’t just in her head.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, a beat so hard and fast it felt like it would burst out of her.

Behind her, Jeonghan was watching her every move, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

He saw the way she stilled for just a split second, the way her shoulders tensed as if bracing for something. He noticed how her hands, usually loose and graceful at her sides, were now clenched into fists, her breathing too fast, too shallow.

His gaze sharpened further, worry etching into his features. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hand finding hers, prying her fingers open gently. His touch was soft, but firm, as he intertwined his fingers with hers, rubbing small, soothing circles into her palm.

“You’re okay, Nana-ya. Just breathe,” he whispered softly, his voice low and steady, meant only for her. “We’re almost there. Focus on me, okay? Count with me if you need to.”

His words cut through the chaos in her mind, his voice the one steady thing she could hold on to. She closed her eyes briefly, grounding herself in the feel of his hand, the warmth of his touch, the familiar and comforting scent of his perfume, and the soothing rhythm of his voice.

“One step at a time,” Jeonghan continued, his thumb still stroking the back of her hand. “We’ll be at the gate soon. You can rest once we get there.”

He kept talking, his words a careful balance of distraction and comfort, pulling her mind away from the overwhelming noise and back to him.

Slowly, Luna’s breathing began to even out, her heartbeat returning to a more manageable pace. The tension in her shoulders eased, her body relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, leaving her more exhausted than before.

She leaned into Jeonghan slightly, letting herself rest against him, her safe space, as they finally reached their gate, away from the crowd, away from the cameras.

Once they reached the private lounge, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward a plush couch near the floor-to-ceiling windows, the vast expanse of the airport runway visible just beyond. The planes, a mix of sleek white and metal gray, dotted the tarmac, and the low hum of activity outside served as a soothing backdrop compared to the chaos they’d just escaped.

Jeonghan’s hand never left hers, their fingers intertwined as she waddled beside him, each step slow and tired. She was beyond exhausted, her body heavy with sickness, yet Jeonghan’s touch anchored her, guiding her through the fog of her fatigue.

When they reached the couch, he helped her settle down, his touch as gentle as always. As soon as Luna sank into the cushions, her body practically melted into the soft fabric. She turned her head, laying it against Jeonghan’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

The cool glass window before her framed the scene outside— the luggage carts moving in their organized chaos, the steady movements of the ground crew— but she barely registered any of it.

Luna just needed a moment to breathe.

Jeonghan’s presence next to her was grounding, his shoulder warm and solid beneath her cheek. She opened her eyes again, gaze trained on the ramp and the plane in front of them, trying to focus on anything but the ache still pounding in her temples. The rhythmic movements of the airport outside, the planes being loaded, gave her something to latch onto, something to quiet her racing thoughts.

The members gathered in the lounge, scattered on the surrounding couches and chairs. At first glance, they seemed relaxed, chatting in low voices, but the way their eyes kept flicking over to Luna didn’t go unnoticed. They knew she was sick— had seen it on her face for days— but now, seeing the weariness settle in her features, they realized how much tired she looked.

Dino, the youngest, opened his mouth as if to ask how she was feeling, but before he could utter a word, Jeonghan glanced over his shoulder and gave a subtle, calm, but firm look.

It was a wordless command, the kind of look that said, Not now.

Seungcheol, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow at Jeonghan, silently asking if everything was okay. The two eldest exchanged a brief glance, an entire conversation passing between them without words. Jeonghan’s slow, reassuring nod told him everything he needed to know.

This wasn’t Luna’s first anxiety attack. She’d had multiple of them before, although it had been a while since her last one. She’d been managing them so well, but today, with the flu weakening her defenses, it had slipped through.

Seungcheol, understanding the situation, gave a barely perceptible nod back. The other members saw the exchange and, without a word, fell into a quiet understanding, lowering their voices and making sure the space around Luna remained as peaceful as possible.

Jeonghan turned back to Luna, his eyes softening as he took in her tired expression. She was still gazing out the window, her eyes following the movements of the airport crew as they loaded luggage onto the planes.

He knew her too well— knew that she was counting in her head, focusing on each piece of luggage as it was lifted and placed into the cargo hold, using it as a distraction to keep her mind occupied.

“Good job. You’re doing such a good job,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the ambient noise around them. His arm was draped around her shoulders, his fingers threading through her hair in slow, soothing motions. His other hand still held hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her skin. “There you go, Jiyeonie, You’re doing so well.”

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in a different way, a warmth blossoming in her chest even though she still felt so drained. She wasn’t fully okay, but with him there, she felt safer, more grounded.

The world outside continued its steady pace, the rhythmic movements of the airport playing out in front of her. Luna’s eyes still remained following the luggage cart, watching as it carried suitcases toward the plane.

Jeonghan, after much thought, leaned in a little closer. “I bet they lost your luggage,” he joked, his voice still quiet but laced with a teasing edge.

Despite the heaviness in her body, Luna couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She turned her head just enough to give him a playful pout. “Is that your way of making me feel better?” she asked softly, her voice scratchy from fatigue.

Jeonghan smiled down at her, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering as if she was something fragile, something so precious.

The way he looked at her at that moment— it was as if she hung the moon and stars as if nothing else mattered but her, like she was the center of his universe.

“I know it will,” he replied, his smug smile widening just a fraction. “Because then I’ll get to buy you new clothes.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with amusement despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She couldn’t believe how easily he could see right through her, how effortlessly he made her feel better without even trying.

It was like he had some sort of superpower— knowing exactly what she needed before she even realized it herself.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, pulling Luna a little closer to his side, his hand still gently playing with her hair. The rhythm of his fingers brushing through her strands was slow and steady, matching the calming atmosphere around them.

Luna shifted slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as she allowed herself to fully relax into him, her cheek pressed comfortably against his shoulder.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy,” Jeonghan whispered, a playful lilt in his voice as he glanced down at her, the corners of his mouth quirking into a fond smile.

Luna groaned softly, not even bothering to open her eyes. “I’m not cute. Definitely not cute now,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible as exhaustion weighed down her every word.

Jeonghan chuckled, low and soothing, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Yes, you are. My cute little Jiyeonie. You’re always cute,” he cooed, his tone shifting into that familiar baby talk that he always used when he wanted to tease her.

Luna, too tired to argue, just grumbled in response, burying her face further into his shoulder. She knew there was no point in protesting; Jeonghan would always win this argument, and deep down, she didn’t mind. Not when his voice was so soft, so comforting.

“Hmm, you’re doing so well, my pretty angel,” he murmured again, his thumb now gently rubbing circles into the back of her hand. “You’re such a strong girl, you know that?”

Luna hummed quietly, the sound of his voice wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn’t have the energy to say much, but she didn’t need to.

Jeonghan knew. He always knew.

He smiled down at her, his gaze warm as he watched her eyes flutter open just a crack, still half-lidded from fatigue. “You’re going to feel better soon. I promise,” he continued softly.

A playful glint appeared in his eyes, and he lifted his hand in front of her face, acting like he grabbed something out of thin air.

Luna, confused, raised an eyebrow as she glanced at his closed fist.

“See this?” Jeonghan said, eyes shifting to his hand as if it held something important.

“What?” Luna asked, her confusion deepening as she watched him curiously.

Jeonghan dramatically acted as if he was throwing something out the window, his arm swinging with a flourish. “I just gave your flu to the guy who lost your luggage,” he said, his face completely serious.

Luna’s eyes widened in disbelief before a small giggle bubbled up from her chest. She gently pushed against his chest, her laughter soft and light. “My luggage isn’t lost, and that man didn’t do anything. He doesn’t deserve to be sick,” she pouted, her lips curving into a playful frown.

Jeonghan sighed in mock amazement, shaking his head. “You are the actual angel between the two of us,” he remarked, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and admiration as he looked at her.

“Whatever,” Luna snuggled closer to him, her eyes closing once more.

Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head and said, “When we get there, I’m going to make sure you rest. I’ll tuck you in, and you won’t have to worry about anything else, okay?”

Luna nodded weakly, her grip tightening slightly around his hand. “Mm… sounds nice,” she whispered, her voice raspy but laced with gratitude.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “Of course it does. I know what my girl likes.” He leaned down, brushing another kiss to the top of her head, lingering for a moment as if that small gesture could transfer all the comfort and care he had for her.

Luna felt her chest warm at his words, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Even in her exhaustion, even with her body feeling like it was weighed down by bricks, she couldn’t help but feel lighter when he spoke to her like this.

Like she was the only thing that mattered.

“Does that mean you’ll spoil me?” she teased softly, the smallest hint of playfulness in her tone despite how tired she was.

Jeonghan grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked down at her. “Oh, absolutely. Whatever you want, Nana-ya. You name it, and it’s yours.” He brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, his touch as tender as ever. “I’m at your service, baby.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart swell. “You’re so ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice carrying that familiar affection she always had for him, even when she was exhausted.

“And you love me for it,” Jeonghan replied with a smirk, his tone teasing but undeniably affectionate. He knew how to pull the smallest reactions from her, knew exactly what to say to keep her grounded, to make her feel seen and cherished.

“I do,” Luna whispered, her voice soft but certain, her eyes fluttering closed once more as she relaxed completely into his embrace. She let out a deep, tired breath, her fingers lacing tighter with his as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping her anchored.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened even further, his thumb still brushing over her hand in a slow, comforting rhythm. “My strong girl,” he murmured again, the words barely above a whisper. “You’re doing so, so well.”

The bustling lounge around them, the noise of the airport— it all faded into the background. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how long the flight would be, or how tired and worn out Luna felt.

As long as Jeonghan was there, holding her, whispering words of comfort in her ear, she knew she’d be okay.

Because with him, nothing else mattered.

As they waited for their plane, Jeonghan held her close, his presence as steady and unwavering as ever.

The world could wait.

For now, nothing mattered but her.

Jeonghan stayed glued to Luna’s side from the moment they boarded the plane. He didn’t leave anything to chance. From the way her seatbelt clicked softly around her, to how he made sure she ate the light meal they were served, his eyes were always watching her.

Jeonghan's hand lingered on her shoulder, his thumb grazing the fabric of her sweater as he asked in that quiet, calming voice of his, “Comfortable?”

Luna nodded, the fatigue weighing heavily on her bones. But even though her body cried for sleep, Jeonghan was already one step ahead, adjusting the small blanket over her legs and shoulders, cocooning her in warmth. He tucked it gently under her chin, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Sleep,” he whispered, his tone low and velvety. “I’ll wake you up when we land.”

She mumbled something incoherent in reply, but Jeonghan wasn’t deterred. He adjusted her pillow and gave a soft, satisfied hum when she finally closed her eyes.

Every slight movement on the plane— the ding of the overhead lights, the sound of people shifting in their seats— he shielded her from it all, his focus entirely on her comfort.

Hours passed and the city of Los Angeles glittered beneath them, the sprawling lights blinking like tiny jewels as the plane touched down.

Jeonghan never let go of Luna’s hand, guiding her through the throng of people in the airport, his hand firm and steady on her back. He had seen the earlier signs, the slight tremble in her hands, the way her breath had hitched at the thought of another crowded, overwhelming moment. And he wasn't about to let her go through that again.

They moved swiftly, his arm looped protectively around her waist, his pace matching hers as they wove their way through LAX. Luna leaned into him, her steps faltering only slightly, and though no one said it aloud, Jeonghan was the anchor she clung to.

When they reached the van that would take them to the stadium for rehearsal, Jeonghan cast her a long look, his brow furrowed in silent question. “You okay?” His voice, though soft, was insistent.

Luna nodded, too stubborn to let the exhaustion speak for her. She was tired and sick, but there was no way she would admit it— not when she had been working so hard for this specific performance— it was the reason she was sick in the first place.

The moment they stepped into the stadium, the rest of the members hovered around her. They could see it in her eyes— the flu that clung to her like a shadow— but Luna? She just waved them off with a tired smile, ignoring their concerned stares. Even when they hesitated to let her rehearse, insisting that she should sit this one out, Luna remained firm.

"I’d rather break all my bones than not perform," she said quietly but with enough determination that no one dared challenge her not even Seungcheol who could see the desperation in her eye.

And so, the rehearsal began.

Luna danced with a fierce precision, her every movement sharp and in sync with the music. Despite her voice being raspier from the flu, she hit all the notes, her performance flawless.

To anyone watching, it was as though nothing was wrong.

She was perfect.

But Luna didn’t feel perfect.

She could sense every flaw, every small imperfection that gnawed at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The cough that threatened to break through at any moment, the aching in her muscles that slowed her just enough to frustrate her beyond reason. Her mind spiraled as she rehearsed, the frustration coiling tightly in her chest, threatening to break her.

During a break, she paced across the stage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The stress, the pressure, the illness— it was all too much, and she could feel it mounting inside her like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

Jeonghan watched her silently from across the stage, his brow furrowed as he took in every minute detail— the way her fingers flexed, the way she bit her lower lip in frustration.

He knew her too well.

He could see it— how close she was to breaking both physically and mentally.

And as they made their way back to the hotel after rehearsal, Jeonghan remained silent, his eyes trained on her, sensing the inner turmoil she tried so hard to hide.

Luna, of course, could feel him watching her.

Jeonghan always knew, always could tell when something was wrong. It annoyed her, but in the same breath, she loved him for it. She loved that he could read her thoughts, even the ones she tried to bury. And she knew, as soon as they walked through that hotel door, that he would corner her about it.

The second they entered her room, silence filled the space. Luna barely made it two steps inside before Jeonghan was there, gently spinning her around to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly brushing against her flushed cheeks, his eyes soft and full of understanding.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice like a gentle caress. Luna blinked up at him, her doe eyes shimmering with the unshed tears that threatened to spill.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened further, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stroked her skin.

He didn’t need to ask. He didn’t need to say anything. He already knew.

Before Luna could say a word, Jeonghan pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight, comforting embrace. The moment his arms enveloped her, the dam inside her broke. She melted against him, her body shaking as the tears finally poured out.

All the pain, all the frustration, all the doubt— she let it all go in that moment, burying her face in his chest as her sobs echoed softly against him.

Jeonghan held her, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. He didn’t shush her, didn’t tell her to stop crying. He just held her, letting her release every bit of the pent-up emotions she had been carrying for far too long.

When her sobs grew quieter, turning into soft sniffles and hiccups, he gently cooed to her, his voice as soft as velvet.

“You’re frustrated, hm? I know, baby. I understand,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to feel like this.”

Luna just cried harder, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she let it all out.

She didn’t need to say anything— Jeonghan understood it all.

“I’m here,” he continued, his voice soothing as he rocked her gently. “I know it’s hard. But you don’t have to be perfect, okay?”

Slowly, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her over to the bed. He sat down, settling her in his lap, his arms still wrapped around her protectively. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, brushing a tear-streaked strand of hair out of her face. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.”

Luna continued to cry softly, but the tension in her body began to ease as Jeonghan rocked her gently, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple. “.You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you for that.”

His words were soft, comforting, and firm. The way he doted on her, the way he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world— it was everything she needed. Everything she didn’t know she needed until now.

“I’ve got you,” Jeonghan whispered, his voice laced with tenderness as he continued to hold her close. “I’ve always got you.”

And at that moment, as Luna clung to him, feeling the weight of her frustrations slowly lift, she knew that no matter how hard things got, Jeonghan would always be there, holding her, understanding her, loving her.

Just like he always had.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded by a silence that wasn’t empty but filled with everything unsaid.

The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only noise in the room, punctuated by Luna’s occasional sniffles and quiet hiccups, each one making Jeonghan’s hold on her tighten ever so slightly.

His fingers traced comforting patterns along her back, and every now and then, he hummed softly— a sound as soothing as a lullaby— cooing, “Shh, it’s okay,” whenever she let out a shaky breath. He pressed gentle kisses to the crown of her head, his voice warm, melting the edges of her pain.

After a few minutes, when her crying had slowed and her breathing evened out, Jeonghan pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace they’d built around them.

He didn’t push, didn’t rush her. He simply waited, his thumb grazing her cheekbone in the softest, most patient of motions. His eyes were full of understanding, holding a quiet strength she could lean into.

Luna looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, and she knew. She couldn’t keep anything from him. She never could.

She let out a long sigh, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt for stability, and then the words tumbled out. “I hate being sick,” she began, her voice raw, the vulnerability clear in her tone.

“I know, baby,” Jeonghan murmured, his voice laced with gentle affection. His thumb continued to trace slow circles on her cheek, grounding her as she spoke.

“I hate feeling…weak. I hate that I can’t keep up, that I’m slowing everyone down,” she continued, her words rushing now as if she’d been holding them back for too long. “And I hate feeling like a burden.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, but before he could say anything, Luna pressed on. “You know how much I hate that feeling, right? It reminds me of…of the early years. When people would call me names and isolate all my mistakes, just because I am the only girl.” Her voice cracked at the last part, and Jeonghan’s heart ached for her.

He remembered those days all too well— how Luna had carried the weight of others' expectations and criticisms, how she had tried to be everything to everyone and in the process had nearly crumbled under the pressure.

“I know,” Jeonghan whispered again, his voice laced with a protective tenderness. He shifted slightly so he could cup both sides of her neck with his hands, his thumbs brushing along her jawline. “I know, baby.”

Luna swallowed hard, the memories of those early years washing over her. “And now, I feel like I can’t let that happen again. My pride won’t let me. My ego won’t let me. I have to be perfect, always, and it’s— it’s too much.” She paused, her breathing uneven as she fought to gather her thoughts. “The pressure— it’s crushing me. And sometimes, I just…I feel too sensitive, too soft for all the noise, you know? For everything.”

“I’m not as strong as I pretend myself to be.” Her voice wavered as she said it, and she glanced up at Jeonghan, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty.

Admitting this to anyone else would have been impossible.

But Jeonghan? He was the only person on the planet she could admit that to.

The only person who made her feel safe enough to bare her soul.

Jeonghan listened silently, his hands never leaving her neck, his fingers caressing the soft skin there in gentle, calming strokes. His eyes never left hers, and in that moment, Luna knew— he wasn’t judging her, wasn’t frustrated with her. He was just there, solid and steady, giving her all the time she needed.

He took a few seconds after she finished, gathering his thoughts, his eyes never wavering from hers. And then, with a tenderness that made Luna’s heart ache, he spoke. “You don’t have to be perfect, you know that?” His voice was soft, yet firm— an anchor in the storm of her emotions. “No one is perfect. Not me, not you, not anyone. And that’s okay.”

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, his gaze deep and thoughtful. “I don’t love you because you’re perfect, Jiyeon. I love you because you’re you. Unapologetically you. The good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly— all of it.”

Luna’s lip trembled, but Jeonghan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re more than enough, baby. You always have been. I don’t need you to be anything other than who you are, right here, right now.”

Luna opened her mouth to protest, but Jeonghan cut her off, his voice gentle but insistent. “No, listen to me. Stop thinking like that. You’re not a burden. You never were.” His fingers slipped through her hair, his touch soft as he cradled her head in his hands. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much, and yet you’re still standing, still shining.”

“I don’t feel strong,” Luna mumbled, her voice thick with doubt as tears slowly fell out of her eyes.

Jeonghan shook his head, smiling at her with that knowing look as he wiped the tears away. “That’s because you don’t see yourself the way I do.” He tapped her nose lightly, making her blink in surprise. “I see someone who’s been fighting her whole life, someone who’s never backed down, even when things were hard.”

“But I—” Luna tried again, but Jeonghan cut her off with a teasing smirk.

“Ah, ah, no buts,” he teased, his voice a playful mix of softness and scolding. “You’re allowed to feel tired. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. But don’t for one-second think that makes you less amazing. You’re not supposed to carry everything on your own. I’m here, remember?”

Luna blinked up at him, her heart swelling at his words. “But what if I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Jeonghan interrupted his tone light, yet filled with understanding. “Keep going? You’ve been keeping up just fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“But what if I don’t?” she whispered, her eyes filled with doubt.

Jeonghan’s smile softened, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Then you lean on me. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we do for each other. Plus you have twelve more people out there who are more than willing to be your support— you can have your pick.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as he whispered against her skin, “You’re not alone, Nana-ya. Not now, not ever.”

Luna didn’t know how she’d survived this long.

For years, it had felt like she was running on fumes, each step forward met with resistance from her own mind, her own doubts. But now, as she lay in Jeonghan’s arms, her head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, she understood.

She was looking at one of the reasons why.

Jeonghan was her anchor.

Every smile, every whispered reassurance, every small touch had kept her grounded when she felt like she was unraveling.

Jeonghan made her feel as though the world was spinning just for her like nothing else mattered but the two of them in this moment.

How easily he could make her feel seen, cherished, and loved— it was terrifying how much she was still falling for him, and yet, she couldn’t help it.

The deeper she fell, the safer she felt, as if his love was a cushion that would catch her no matter what.

Luna felt him press another kiss to her forehead, and before she could protest, he shifted slightly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. Her fingers slipped from his chest and lazily found his hand, playing with his long fingers as he allowed her to, his grip soft but ever-present.

Luna watched him silently, her gaze tracing the familiar contours of his face— the delicate slope of his nose, the gentle arch of his brow, the way his lips moved slightly as he prepared to speak into the phone.

He glanced down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched her play with his fingers, but then his attention shifted back to the call. “Hey, hyung,” Jeonghan said, his voice smooth and composed, though there was a hint of urgency beneath his words.

Luna’s heart swelled at the sound— it was her favorite sound in the world, his voice. So full of warmth, so full of love.

“Yeah, Jiyeonie’s not feeling well… No, no, she’s okay, but I need you to pick up some things.” There was a brief pause as he listened, his eyes flicking down to Luna again as he continued to let her fidget with his hand. “Some medicine for the flu… Yeah, and get some chamomile tea too. It’s her favorite.” His smile widened slightly as he said that, knowing how much comfort it would bring her.

Luna looked up at him as he spoke, her mind swimming in the soft cadence of his voice. She remembered what he had said earlier, about seeing herself the way he saw her. That thought stayed with her, echoing in her mind like a gentle hum.

She wanted to know— desperately— what it would be like to love herself the way Jeonghan did. To see herself not as a burden, but as someone worthy of care, worthy of love, for all the good and bad, the ugly and the pretty. Because no one had ever loved her like he did.

“Yeah, and one more thing,” Jeonghan’s voice brought her back to the present. “Can you grab her food for dinner on the way, too? The Korean restaurant… the place she loves here— yeah, the one in Koreatown. Thanks, hyung. I owe you.” He ended the call with his manager, setting the phone down and turning back to her.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened as he took in the way she looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder and love.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he said softly, his voice wrapping around her like a promise, a vow he intended to keep.

And he did.

The next hour passed in a blur of warmth and gentle care.

When the doorbell rang, Luna let out a soft whine as Jeonghan carefully untangled himself from her. He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ll be right back, angel. Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his tone playful yet filled with affection.

True to his word, Jeonghan returned moments later with two bags in hand. One was filled with medicine—painkillers, cold medicine, and everything else she needed to combat the flu. The other was heavier, the delicious aroma of her favorite takeout filling the room as he set it on the table. He helped her sit up, propping pillows behind her as he opened the containers.

“Come on, you need to eat,” he coaxed gently, handing her a set of chopsticks.

Luna smiled gratefully, the smell of the food making her realize just how hungry she still was, despite feeling sick. They ate in comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of their natural conversation punctuated by the clink of chopsticks and soft laughter.

As they finished the meal, Jeonghan moved to the small kitchenette in the hotel room and began preparing her favorite chamomile tea. Luna watched him from the bed, her body sinking deeper into the plush comforter. Even the simple act of him boiling water and steeping the tea felt like an expression of love— like everything he did was a way of showing how much he cared for her.

He returned to her side with the steaming mug, blowing on it slightly before handing it to her. “Here, this will help your throat.”

Luna took the mug from him, the warmth seeping into her hands as she took a slow sip. The tea was soothing, the familiar floral notes calming her from the inside out.

Jeonghan then reached for the medicine he’d asked for, placing the pills into her hand and watching carefully as she swallowed them.

“Good job, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan praised her, knowing how much she hated drinking medicines.

After she had finished, he set an alarm on his phone for her next dose, determined to make sure she stayed on track with her medication.

“You’re really babying me,” Luna teased, her voice still a little raspy from the congestion, but there was a smile in her tone.

Jeonghan shrugged, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he responded, “What can I say? You’re my favorite person to take care of.”

Luna felt her heart flutter at his words, the warmth spreading through her chest. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Jeonghan heard it loud and clear.

“No,” he corrected, leaning in to press his lips against her forehead once more. “I’m the lucky one.”

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, spilling in through the massive hotel windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

Outside, the night sky was clear, and the moon hung like a silent guardian over the city below, casting an ethereal light across the room. Its glow painted the walls in silver, illuminating the quiet space where Luna and Jeonghan lay wrapped in each other’s arms.

Luna was curled into Jeonghan’s side, her head nestled against his chest, her body comfortably molded to his. Their legs tangled together under the covers, their shared warmth a cocoon that separated them from the world outside.

Jeonghan's hand rested on her back, his fingers moving in slow, gentle circles, the repetitive motion soothing her in a way only he could. With his free hand, Luna absentmindedly played with his fingers, her fingertips tracing the lines of his palm, their silent rhythm in sync, matching the slow rise and fall of their breathing.

The moonlight caught Luna’s eye, and from her place against Jeonghan, she stared out at it through the window, the silvery glow making the world seem calm and still. She watched as the moon floated in the vast expanse of the night sky, almost otherworldly in its beauty, and yet… so familiar. There was a quiet comfort in its light, a reminder of home, of memories that always seemed to resurface on nights like these.

Jeonghan noticed the shift in her attention. He felt the way her body relaxed even more against him, her breathing becoming deeper as her gaze remained fixated on the night outside. He followed her line of sight, but his focus quickly returned to her.

As Luna continued to gaze at the moon, Jeonghan found himself lost in a quiet, ironic admiration.

Here she was, completely mesmerized by the pale, glowing orb in the sky— and yet, to him, the real moon lay beside him, nestled in his arms.

Luna.

He watched the way her brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, their deep, warm color now reflecting the cool, silver light. Her expression was soft, almost dreamlike as if the light had cast a spell on her.

But Jeonghan knew better— it was she who had cast the spell on him.

He watched the way her brown doe eyes reflected the moonlight made them sparkle, turning her soft, innocent gaze into something more enchanting, almost siren-like, as though she were lost in thought, drawn into the beauty of the sky. Her pale porcelain skin, smooth and delicate, glowed under the moon’s light, and Jeonghan couldn't help but smile softly at the sight.

He took in every detail of her, from the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed to the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose— something only visible up close, and he always found them endearing, a hidden piece of her beauty that not everyone got to see.

But he did.

He noticed everything.

The way her lips parted slightly as she lost herself in thought, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulder, catching the light in glittering strands.

Jeonghan admired her just as she admired the moon, realizing that to him, Luna was just as captivating— if not more so.

It was poetic, really, this silent moment between them.

As she gazed at the moon in the sky, Jeonghan found himself gazing at the moon in his arms.

Jeonghan admired her in silence, his heart swelling with affection. There was something so serene about Luna in moments like these, something that took his breath away every time.

She was beautiful in ways she didn’t even realize— imperfections that made her perfect to him.

As he continued to trace slow circles on her back, he vowed silently that he’d show her. He’ll make her see how perfect she is. How she’s so much more than she thinks.

The silence between them was comfortable, the quiet hum of the city outside a distant sound they barely noticed. Then, breaking the stillness, Luna’s soft voice filled the air, her eyes never leaving the moon.

"My mom loves the moon," she said quietly, her voice almost wistful.

Jeonghan’s eyes softened at the mention of her mother. He reached up with his free hand and gently brushed a stray hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. "I know she does," he murmured in response, his voice low and gentle. "You told me before."

A small smile tugged at Luna’s lips, still staring up at the moon as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "She said if she wasn’t a ballerina, she would’ve been an astronaut," Luna giggled softly, a sound that made Jeonghan’s smile widen.

He loved it when she talked about her family— her face always lit up with a kind of soft nostalgia. Jeonghan listened, his hand continuing to move in gentle patterns on her skin, offering her the quiet comfort she needed.

"She used to tell me," Luna continued, her voice light with memory, "that she would talk to the moon and make wishes to it."

Jeonghan smiled at that, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice just as soft.

Luna nodded, the movement subtle as her head remained resting on his chest. “I remember telling her she sounded crazy,” she chuckled, her laughter warm and full of affection.

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with playful mischief, and before Luna could react, he poked her side, his fingers finding her waist. "No, you didn’t," he teased, his voice playful.

Luna squealed, a burst of laughter escaping her as she squirmed slightly, turning to pout up at him. Her lips jutted out in an adorable frown as she met his teasing smile. "I did!" she insisted, her voice filled with mock indignation.

Jeonghan grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling as he admired the way her cheeks flushed, her pout softening into a smile. He was always so easily captivated by her— by the smallest details, the little quirks she didn’t even know she had.

Luna shifted her gaze back to the moon, her voice quieting as she spoke again. “She loved it so much, she named me after it.” Her words were almost whispered, and there was a reverence in her tone, as if the name held all the weight of her mother’s love.

Jeonghan’s chest tightened with affection. His eyes drifted between her and the moon outside, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips.

It was fitting, he thought, that Luna was named after the moon.

Just like the celestial body that lit up the darkest nights, she illuminated every part of his life, even the pieces he didn’t know needed light.

“Did you know,” Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft, “that the moon isn’t perfectly round?”

Luna raised an eyebrow at his sudden trivia, curiosity and amusement flickering in her eyes as she glanced up at him. “I did know that, nerd,” she teased, her tone playful as her lips curved into a smile.

Jeonghan chuckled, his playful side emerging as he stuck out his tongue and ruffled her hair. “If you knew that, then that makes you a nerd too, nerd.”

Luna let out a soft whine, quickly removing his hand from her head— not because she cared about him messing up her hair, but because she didn’t want to let go of his hand. She hated losing that connection, even for a second.

Jeonghan chuckled again, his tone softening as he cooed gently, “Okay, alright, I’m here.” He wrapped his arms more securely around her, pulling her even closer to him, and she let out a content sigh, her body relaxing once more into his embrace.

After a beat, Luna broke the silence, her voice soft but curious, “What was your point?”

Jeonghan hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. He cupped her face, the warmth of his palm grounding her. “The moon is full of imperfections,” he said, his voice tender, almost reverent.

Luna softened at his words, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

He was trying to prove his point, his way of telling her she was enough, even with her insecurities and doubts.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She felt her chest tighten, but not in the panicked way it had at the airport. This pounding sensation was different. It was calm, steady, and tethered to him. She could feel her heart beating in sync with his, the rhythm of their shared breaths filling the space between them.

Jeonghan’s voice drew her back to the moment. “But people like your mom,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, “they still talk to it, still look for it when they can’t find it. And they still love it... and it still shines, regardless.”

Her eyes welled up with tears again, her heart aching at how deeply she loved him in that moment. No one had ever made her feel so seen, so deeply understood. The way he cherished her, imperfections and all, made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

Jeonghan's hand gently wiped away a tear before it could fall, his expression soft but serious. “You’re no different, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. “I still talk to you, I still look for you when I can’t find you. And I still love you… and you still shine, regardless.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart clenched at his words, and she could feel that familiar pounding again, not the anxious panic from before, but something far more peaceful— like her heart was trying to tell her that everything was okay.

The way his heart beat in time with hers soothed her, anchoring her. The tears slipped freely now, no longer held back by the dam she’d built around her emotions.

Jeonghan's expression shifted as he noticed her tears, his lips curling into a soft smile as he tried to lighten the mood. “But…” he said, drawing out the word as if he was about to reveal something serious.

Luna blinked up at him, her eyes still glassy, wondering where he was going. He smirked playfully. “One thing you won’t have in common with the moon is… being lonely.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to follow his train of thought. Before she could ask, he leaned in, his voice low but teasing, “You have me, my moon.”

That was it.

The floodgates opened again, but this time she chuckled through her tears, pushing him playfully. “You’re a nerd,” she whined, sniffling, “and a sap.”

Jeonghan laughed at that, his whole face lighting up with amusement. He reached out and wiped her face gently, his fingers brushing away the stray tears. “Aww, my little crybaby,” he teased her in baby talk, cooing at her like he was speaking to a child. “C’mon, no more tears, okay?”

Luna pouted, swatting at his hand, “Stop making me cry then!” Her voice wavered, a mix of frustration and affection, but even as she said it, she couldn’t help but smile.

Jeonghan grinned, unbothered by her playful complaint. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my love too overwhelming for you?” He teased, laughing softly as she glared at him half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” she muttered, though there was no real bite in her voice. Instead, she let herself melt into him again, feeling safe, loved, and seen.

Without warning, his fingers brushed her lips, the pad of his thumb grazing the soft curve of her mouth. Her breath hitched slightly at the unexpected tenderness of the touch, her pulse quickening.

The sensation was gentle, yet electrifying, as if his touch alone sends sparks dancing across. He traced the outline of her bottom lip slowly, deliberately, as though memorizing its shape.

Luna's heart pounded, and she felt the world narrow to just the two of them at that moment. Jeonghan's fingers moved with an almost featherlight touch, teasing yet reverent. His eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes, and without a word, he began leaning closer, his breath mingling with hers.

Just as his lips were about to capture hers, Luna ducked her head, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Jeonghan paused, clearly confused, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand what had just happened.

"You seem to forget," Luna mumbled against his skin, her voice muffled, "that I'm sick."

Jeonghan blinked, his large hand instinctively finding its place at the nape of her neck. He gently pulled her back, cupping her face so she had no choice but to look at him again. "No, I didn't forget," he replied, his tone laced with quiet confidence as he leaned in once more.

But Luna swerved again, her hand shooting up to block him as she glared at him, eyes firm but still soft. "Han! You're gonna get sick," she scolded, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern.

Jeonghan's brow quirked upward in challenge, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. "Okay... and?" His eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly unconcerned.

Luna sighed, knowing this was a battle she was likely going to lose, but she pressed on. "Cheolie is gonna kill us both if we both end up sick— you know how he worries."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, clearly unimpressed by the argument. "It's worth the risk," he murmured, leaning in again to kiss her, but Luna pressed her palm against his chest, stopping him just short.

She was on her back now, and Jeonghan was sitting up over her, his arm braced on one side of her head, the other hand gripping hers firmly, yet gently. His touch was grounding, but there was a playfulness in his movements, a slow, deliberate tension in the way he held her still, his eyes never leaving hers.

"There's no guarantee I'll catch it, Nana-ya," he said softly, his voice low, the teasing lilt clear.

Luna bit her lip, shaking her head as her fingers curled against his chest. "Hannie— I can guarantee a hundred percent you'll catch it. It's already a risk that we're breathing the same air right now." Her eyes glinted with a mix of playfulness and worry as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer despite herself.

Jeonghan pouted dramatically, his expression boyish and unconvincing. "What makes you say that?" he asked, raising his brow as though daring her to argue further.

"Because you're you, Yoon Jeonghan," Luna retorted, her voice light, teasing. "You might have a weaker immune system than me." Her smile was cheeky, but her gaze was tender.

Jeonghan's jaw dropped in mock offense, his eyes narrowing as if deeply insulted.

"Says the girl who's already sick!" he shot back, his voice playfully accusatory.

"Exactly!" Luna exclaimed, triumphant. "Which is why you're gonna be a good boy and move to your side of the bed and leave the kisses to a minimum until I get bett–”

Her sentence was cut off abruptly as Jeonghan, with a swift and determined motion, cupped her neck with one hand and pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for protest. The warmth of his mouth on hers was intoxicating, the softness of his lips moving with an easy confidence that made her head spin.

Luna's defenses crumbled instantly. Her hands that had been pushing him away moments ago now gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she melted into him.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, Jeonghan's lips moving against hers with a rhythm that left her breathless. He smiled against her mouth, his smirk felt more than seen, and it sent a thrill down her spine.

The sensation of his lips was dizzying, a perfect blend of softness and firmness, a touch that was both teasing and sure. It was like he was savoring the moment, dragging it out, knowing he had won this small victory.

Every movement, every shift of his mouth against hers felt like a carefully calculated move, designed to make her give in, and she was powerless to resist.

When they finally pulled away, Luna was speechless, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her lips tingled, the remnants of the kiss lingering like a warm haze.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, a smug grin tugging at his lips, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Well," he began, his tone teasing and oh-so-condescending, "looks like someone didn't mind that too much." He winked at her, his voice dropping into a sing-song tone as he added in baby talk, "Aww, is my sick little Jiyeonie all flustered now?"

Luna gaped at him, still trying to recover, before shoving him playfully. "You're the worst," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real venom.

She couldn't deny it— he had won, and they both knew it.

Luna shook her head at Jeonghan’s smug expression, her chest still fluttering from the lingering kiss. “You’re absolutely insufferable, you know that?” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed any irritation she tried to muster.

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Mmm, but you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.

She huffed, half-heartedly shoving him again, but this time her hand stayed on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I never said that,” she replied, her voice soft, and playful, though the affection in her eyes was impossible to hide.

“Didn’t need to.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the teasing edge softening into something tender as he shifted slightly, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist. “It’s written all over your face, Jiyeonie.”

Luna felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, her usual quick wit failing her as she looked up at him. “Shut up,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest to avoid the intensity of his stare, though she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her.

Jeonghan hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as his fingers began tracing soothing patterns on her back. “Mmm, whatever you want,” he whispered, his voice low and lazy now as if the teasing energy from before had melted into something softer, more intimate.

The conversation slowed, their words becoming fewer and farther between as they lay together, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence. Their voices were no more than whispers in the quiet of the night, the sound of their breaths mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside.

“We still haven’t told the guys about us… been too busy,” Luna mumbled sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy as her head rested comfortably against Jeonghan’s chest.

Jeonghan smiled faintly, his fingers still lazily tracing over her skin. “We’ll figure it out. We always do,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lull in the quiet room.

“Hmm,” Luna hummed, her arms tightening slightly around him. “I don’t want you getting sick…”

Jeonghan’s lips brushed her forehead again, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Nothing matters but you, Jiyeonie.”

There was something about the way Jeonghan said it— soft, sure as if it was the simplest truth in the world. The tenderness of the moment wrapped around them like a blanket, warm and safe, and Luna’s heart swelled in response.

“Don’t say that because I could say the same thing about you,” Luna whispered it out.

The words hung in the air, delicate and true, as the weight of the day began to pull them both under.

Jeonghan’s hand brushed through her hair, the same tender care present in every touch, every glance. It was the way he held her when the world became too much, the way he listened without needing words. It was the sweet nothings they exchanged, the unspoken promises, the quiet love that bloomed in the spaces between their conversations.

Their breathing fell into sync, the quiet rhythm of their bodies melding together in the shared silence. Jeonghan’s hand slowly stilled on her back, his thumb brushing against her side in slow, sleepy strokes. Luna’s eyelids fluttered, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness, her body relaxing fully into his embrace.

The warmth of Jeonghan’s presence, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, grounded her as her breathing slowed, her body sinking deeper into the bed. Luna’s last thought before sleep took her was the gentle comfort of his arms around her, the soft press of his lips on her hair, and the way his fingers felt like home as they held her close.

The sincerity in his words wrapped around her like a blanket, and Luna knew— no matter how hard things got, no matter how overwhelming the world outside could be, here, with him, she would always be safe.

She would always be loved.

And in the quiet of that truth, she let herself finally surrender to sleep, knowing that in this moment, nothing else mattered but them.

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