you don’t remember exactly when the obsession started. maybe it was the first time you saw him play guitar, veins along his forearms flexing, his long, elegant fingers pressing against the strings with such confident ease. they were veiny, just the right amount of rough, and the way his knuckles flexed as he changed chords had you swallowing hard. he was wearing silver rings that day—your favorite—and your eyes kept darting to them every time they glinted under the soft lamp light.
“they’re so pretty…” you whispered with soft, dreamy voice.
he stopped playing and looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “my hands?”
“they’re just so perfect, Jay. is not fair.” you traced a finger down his wrist, trailing over the veins with a soft gasp. “do you even know what you do to me?”
his jaw tightened the smugness faltering as your touch lingered.
“you like them that much, princess?” he teased, but there was heat behind it now. he set the guitar aside, tilting your chin up. “should i show you what else they can do?”
or maybe it was when he first touched you.
because Jay doesn’t just touch, he handles. gently. like you’re precious. like if he pressed just a little harder, you’d bruise, and he’d never forgive himself. his hands always find you. on your thigh when he’s driving, thumb lazily brushing your skin like he needs to remind you that you’re his. on your waist at parties, when someone else’s gaze lingers too long and his grip subtly tightens, never rough, but enough. enough for you to feel it. enough for him to make a point. under tables at dinner with the guys, his fingers resting on your bare skin while he talks like nothing’s happening, all casual and composed while you try not to shift too obviously in your seat.
you’re the one who asked, shy and breathless, for his fingers in your mouth one night, unable to stop staring. he hesitated at first, always afraid of crossing a line, of hurting you, but he gave in when you begged. and fuck, he groaned, low and quiet, letting you pull two of his fingers past your lips.
now you always do it.
your mouth is so warm, your tongue swirling around them immediately, like you’ve been waiting for this all day. you suck slow, messy, eyes fluttering shut as you moan softly around them. and Jay is mesmerized, watching you absolutely fall apart from something so simple. he tightens his arm around your waist, other hand twitching at his side. “you’re really doing this just from my fingers, huh?” he murmurs, voice lower now, strained. “you’re such a dirty little thing.”
you whimper around him, drool starting to slip from the corners of your mouth as you bob your head slightly, like you need more. he watches the spit string between your lips and his knuckles, and it drives him crazy.
“fuck, baby,” he groans, tugging you closer, voice rough in your ear. “my messy girl.”
then came the night you asked for more.
“put your hand around my throat?”
he’d blinked, startled, like you’d just spoken another language. you felt his breath catch before he even answered.
“you’re serious?”
and when you nodded, flushed, needy, voice small, he listened. his fingers came up slow, wrapped so carefully around your neck like he thought you might break. the pressure wasn’t hard. just present. your body’s response was immediate. back arching, thighs tightening, eyes fluttering.
and that’s when he changed.
“fuck,” he groaned, voice low and ruined, “you like this. you—you really like this.”
and now? he can’t stop. it’s never too much. never careless. just perfect. like everything he does to you.
like the way he curls his fingers when they’re inside you, hitting just the right spot, soft and slow and purposeful like he’s more focused on making you fall apart than getting off himself. he always knows what you need, when to tease, when to press deeper, when to go still and just hold you.
in quiet moments, he takes your hand. always. never just grabbing it, no, he locks fingers. pulls it close. holds it tight. sometimes he lifts them to compare, palm to palm, brow furrowed like he can’t get over the size difference. “look at this,” he’ll whisper, tracing your fingers with his. “mine cover yours completely.”
he lives for it.
because you were obsessed with his hands from the start. but nothing compares to the way he looks at yours, like they belong in his. like the only place you should ever be is right next to him, hand in hand, thigh under his palm, jaw in his touch, body under his control.
he’s so soft and gentle with you, and you are completely sure that his hands were made just for you.
“In which reader and Jake see each other only in the summer, finding themselves between tangled sheets and filthy words. But this year, it’s not just sex anymore.”
fem! reader x jake, friends with benefits! to lovers, fingering, dirty talking, unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m rec), riding, multiple positions, spitting, porn with a little emotional plot idk.
word count: 7.0k
hate comments will be deleted and blocked, likes and reblogs are appreciated !!
The field by the lake hadn’t changed, same driftwood benches, same cooler of cheap beer half-buried in the dirt, same old Bluetooth speaker trying its best to fight against the crackle of the fire. A few faces had grown older, a few new ones floated in from the city for the summer, but the rhythm was the same.
You always traveled back to your hometown for vacation, where you could forget about your city girl live, where most of your childhood friends still lived, where you spent the days tanning under the burning sun and drinking margaritas.
You were perched on a log near the flames, cold drink in hand, sweat beginning to bead at the nape of your neck despite the breeze off the water, despite the thin fabric of your short flower dress. Your friends were around you, Jay had brought his guitar like always, Heeseung was already tipsy, throwing rocks into the lake and yelling about something stupid. It was light, fun and meaningless. But you couldn’t stop checking the curve of the dirt road, waiting.
He was coming tonight, you knew it. Jake Sim.
It was never official. Not a relationship or a fling. It was almost like a summer tradition, like fireworks and iced tea and peeling sunburnt skin. You came back every year, and so did he. Like gravity, something written in body. No goodbyes, no promises, just heat and hands and stolen nights that left you wrecked until fall. You’d known him for years at this point, same boy who almost drowned in your parent’s pool at twelve, same boy who kissed you in truth or dare, same boy who knew your body much better than yourself.
The thing is, you barely spoke the rest of the year. A couple likes on Instagram. A birthday text, maybe. But no late-night calls, no long conversations. It was easier that way. If you talked too much, it would start to feel real. If it felt real, you’d both ruin it.
But still, you knew what it meant when you saw his name light up your phone two weeks before summer.
Jake Sim: you coming back this year?
Your fingers trembled over the keyboard.
Me: of course, always.
Because it didn’t matter how much time passed. The second your eyes met again, everything came flooding back, the way he kissed you like he was starving, the roughness of his voice when he begged to stay inside just a little longer, the way your bodies fit like puzzle pieces designed by the sun itself.
You weren’t in love. But it was close enough to hurt when you had to go back to your city every year.
So you both kept a silent deal. You didn’t ask who he fucked in the winter. He didn’t ask if you missed him in the spring. You only cared about the here and now, the sticky, sacred months of July and August. You only cared about sweat-slicked skin and beach towels and his hand gripping your throat like it was the only way he knew how to say I missed you.
Your stomach twisted when you heard it.
Tires crunching over gravel, laughter, car doors slamming.
You didn’t even have to turn to know because you felt it.
He was here.
It had been eleven months, two weeks, and six days since he last fucked you against the wall of your aunt’s bathroom at the end-of-summer party. You’d cried after. Not because of him, but because leaving always felt like peeling your skin off and flying back to a world where Jake didn’t exist.
But now he walked in like he owned the night, as always, that soft and chill aura like he didn’t care about anything in the world. Sun-kissed and cocky, rings on his fingers, black tshirt clung to his chest like it was begging for your attention. Ni-ki was beside him, already tossing a grin toward the group by the cooler, but Jake?
Jake looked straight at you.
The air left your lungs like a punch. You hated that it still did this to you, turned your insides to syrup and your thighs to heat. One look, that’s all it took. You didn’t smile, or wave. Just sipped your drink and looked back like it didn’t matter, letting the breeze wave your hair against your face.
“Finally decided to show up.” Heeseung dabbed him up, but his eyes were still locked on your face.
He stopped a few feet away, slow steps bringing him just close enough to let your body register him, his smell, his shadow, the ghost of his hands already on your skin. His voice was casual when he finally spoke.
“City girl had the time to come this year” he said, the exact same thing he said last summer. The same damn line.
Your lips curved around your drink, glossy and shining under the warm light of the fire.
“I always come, Jake.”
He smiled like he wanted to say something filthy about that. Like he remembered every single time. Then his eyes trailed down your body, slow and intentional because of course he wanted you to notice. You squirmed a bit, flipping your hair over your shoulder.
The fire was crackling between you two. Ni-ki called his name, someone handed you another beer, which you rejected with a smile, Sunghoon yelled something about “going crazy this summer”, but it all blurred. The music was loud, but your heart was louder.
“You look good,” Jake added, voice low enough that only you could hear it.
You smiled softly, tilting your head, took in the curve of his arms, his thick lips, the gold chain glinting at his collarbone, the heat in his eyes.
“I always look good” you whispered back.
He chuckled, stepping back, walking away like he hadn’t just lit every nerve in your body on fire.
But you knew how this would end.
Because he was here looking at you like he hadn’t had a decent orgasm since the last time you moaned his name.
After a few hours, the fire started burning low. People had thinned out, some stumbling back to their parents’ houses, others crawling into tents by the lake or paired off under trees in the dark. The music had died to background static. Your drink was warm and half-full, forgotten in your hand. The air was still thick with smoke, beer, and heat that clung to your skin even after sundown.
You’d been sitting on the edge of a blanket, legs stretched out, staring into the dying embers and the star-full sky, when Ni-ki wandered over, car keys dangling from his finger, hair a bit messy.
“You need a ride?” he asked, voice lazy, smile crooked. “I’m sober, Jake’s coming to.”
You hesitated for only a second before you saw Jake trailing behind him.
One glance from him was enough. That slight tilt of his head, that litlle smile on his lips, the way his eyes dipped down to your mouth just for one second before biting his lips. He didn’t say anything. Just leaned against the side of the car, one hand in his pocket, eyes still on you.
“Yeah,” you said, too quickly. “Thanks, Ki”
Inside, Ni-ki’s father’s truck smelled like weed and cologne and dried lake water. The windows were halfway down, the music low and thumping with bass. You were pressed against the cool leather, the hem of your dress creeping up your thighs with every shift. Jake climbed in right beside you, not even pretending to leave space, it wasn’t even necessary for him to sit besides you, and his thigh brushed yours, firm and warm.
Neither of you said anything.
Ni-ki started the car and chatted from the front, his voice a cheerful hum against the dark. Something about the girls by the cooler. Someone puking behind the dock. You nodded, made a sound of agreement, but every nerve in your body was tuned to Jake. His arm was stretched lazily across the back of the seat, fingertips just grazing your shoulder, his touch already setting your skin on fire. He smelled like smoke and sweat perfume and him. Familiar and dangerous.
“Is school going well?” he asked under his breath, close enough that his mouth nearly touched your cheek.
You turned toward the window.
“Yeah, it’s been nice. You?”
He didn’t answer. Just smiled again and let his hand drop, light and casual, until the side of it was resting against your bare thigh. It wasn’t even obvious. Ni-ki didn’t notice, too busy driving and still talking, and Jake didn’t move. His fingers didn’t trail, just a slight pressure. But it was enough to remind you of every time he’d had you spread out in the back of a car like this before, drunk off each other, reckless and flushed.
The road dipped, and the jostle made his palm shift higher on your leg.
You bit your lip.
“Cute dress,” he murmured. “Little short, though.”
You pulse started to rush, and it was suddenly so hot inside the car. Then his fingers crept under the hem of your dress, brushing the inside of your thigh, higher and higher, until you felt your whole body clench.
“—right? So I told Heeseung not to piss his girlfriend off—” Ni-ki kept talking in the front seat, totally oblivious, laughing at his own story.
Meanwhile Jake’s fingers brushed against the thin cotton of your panties, and exhaled through his nose.
“You wore these for me?” he whispered, dragging one finger slowly over the damp seam, right where you were already pulsing for him. “Or did I get you this wet just now?”
You swallowed hard. Your head hit the back of the seat.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Can’t wait to taste you this summer”
You squeezed your legs shut instinctively, but he just pushed his hand between them, forcing them apart again. His fingers slid beneath the fabric, hot and greedy and slow, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. His middle finger circled your clit, gentle but focused, rhythm cruelly steady. Your hips twitched. You tried to keep your face blank, heart racing as Ni-ki kept talking about girlfriend drama and god knows what else. Jake leaned back in the seat like nothing was happening, laughing and his friend’s jokes, keeping the conversation, like he wasn’t making your thighs shake under the cover of your dress.
And all you could do was clutch the edge of your seat and pray your breathing didn’t give you away.
“Hey, Y/N” Ni-ki said. “You think your parents will let us throw the pool party this year?”
You could barely hear him, you couldn’t even answer. So you just hummed, but it came out more like a moan, and Jake chuckled besides you because he had two fingers inside you now, slow and shallow, more teasing than satisfying.Every twist of his hand dragged against your sweet spot and pulled a silent scream from your throat.
His lips brushed your ear again.
“You’re so tight, baby. You miss me?” he asked like he wasn’t knuckle-deep inside you, like this was all small talk.
You nodded once, shaky and pathetic, and he smiled.
Ni-ki pulled up in front of your parent’s place, headlights sweeping over the front porch.
“You want us to walk you up?” he offered, turning in his seat.
You jolted, heart hammering.
Jake’s fingers slipped out of you just in time, slow and slick, leaving your panties soaked. He brought his hand to his mouth casually, like he was stretching, and sucked the tips of his fingers clean while staring you dead in the eyes.
“Nah,” Jake said smoothly, voice casual. “She’s good.”
“Y-Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for the ride, Ki.”
But you weren’t. You were literally shaking.
You stepped out of the car on trembling legs, your thighs wet, your panties ruined, and Jake’s grin burned into your memory.
Your parent’s didn’t allow you to host the pool party this year, since the damages of last summer were still ghosting in the house. So Sunoo, being the good friend that he was, offered his pool.
The party was already in full swing by the time you showed up, loud music, wet footprints all over the tile, floats bobbing in the pool, and a cooler full of drinks that had long since lost their ice. The heat was sweltering. The sky was cloudless. And everything felt like it was pulsing with that hazy energy.
You found your friends by the pool, and smiled at them. You slipped off your sandals, dropped your towel on a sun chair, and waded straight into the pool, cool water wrapping around your body like a sigh.
Jake was there too.
He was across the pool, shirtless in red swim trunks, tan skin glistening wet, a beer bottle tipped to his lips as he leaned back against the edge with that lazy, devastating smirk. His hair was damp, curls pushed back, and he had that look in his eye. The one he only wore when you were in the room.
You hadn’t spoken since the night in the truck. Just a few glances, a look across the lake. He was busy this summer too, you knew that, his father needed help in his job, so you weren’t seeing him that often. But you still felt him every second since.
And now, he was watching you float through the water like he already had you pressed up against the pool wall, hand between your thighs, making you come so hard you’d choke on his name.
You kept your face blank, kept swimming. But your heart was going wild.
Everyone else was drunk and loud. Sunghoon was doing cannonballs, Jungwon was begging someone to make more margaritas, Ni-ki was DJing from the patio like his life depended on it, but your whole world narrowed every time Jake’s eyes dragged over your chest, your stomach, the way your bikini clung to your hips.
At one point, you reached for your drink from the edge and felt his presence behind you before you even heard his voice.
“You trying to kill me in that bikini?” Jake murmured, chest brushing your back in the water. His voice was low and close, mouth inches from your shoulder. “Or is this just for attention?”
You didn’t turn around.
“We both know i don’t need to ask for your attention.”
He chuckled, dark and quiet.
“You know i love when you get cocky.”
You don’t even remember who touched who first.
One second, Jake was behind you in the pool, his breath grazing your neck like a threat, and the next, your fingers brushed his underwate, just enough to say now. You didn’t look back, it wasn’t necessary because he followed.
You climbed out slowly, water cascading down your legs, your bikini clinging to your curves like a secret. Jake was only a step behind, eyes locked on the drip of water trailing down your spine. No one noticed, or maybe they did and didn’t care. This was how it always happened. One second, you were mingling, the next, you were gone.
Inside the house, the music got muffled by walls and closed doors. You walked past the kitchen, past the hallway, past the laundry room, and Jake’s hand caught yours. Pulled and turned. He shoved open the bathroom door and you stumbled inside, your back hitting the wall, cold tile kissing wet skin.
Then, his mouth was on yours.
He tasted like alcohol and fresh fruit and he kissed you like a man unhinged. His hot mouth devouring you, breathless and not giving but taking. Tongue deep, wet and sloppy, teeth sharp, pulling your lower lip and sucking it, no space between you. The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was months of repression, of thinking about this exact moment, of remembering how tight you were around him, how loud you got when he hit just the right spot.
Your back hit the wall with a thud, and his hands were everywhere, palming your ass through your bikini bottoms, gripping your waist hard enough to bruise, sliding up your spine to twist in your wet hair and tug your head back, like he was scared you’d disappear again. You felt his hard length beneath the damp fabric of his shorts, grinding into you like he couldn’t hold himself back.
Jake pulled back just long enough to look at you.
“You look fucking unreal right now,” he breathed, eyes blown. “I’ve been losing my mind all fucking year thinking about this pussy.”
His voice was hot and low and filthy, his hand sliding down your stomach, slipping under your soaked bikini bottoms without hesitation.
“You missed me?” he murmured, middle finger dragging through your slit. “Huh, baby? You missed this cock?”
You moaned, too breathless to lie. Head spinning, eyes hazy and brain already shut down.
He grinned like he already knew.
“Of course you did. This pussy was made for me.”
He shoved your bottoms down, let them fall wet to the floor. Then, he dropped to his knees like it was instinct. You barely had time to breathe before his mouth was on you. Tongue hot, fast, messy and desperate. Jake moaned into your cunt like he’d been starving all year. You moaned into your hand and let your head fall against the wall as his tongue licked a wide, greedy stripe up your slit, then circled your clit, sloppy, shameless and relentless. His fingers dug into your thighs in case you’d pull away and he ate you out like this was his last meal.
“God,” he groaned, voice muffled against your heat. “always so fucking sweet.”
You rocked your hips forward into his face, already breathless from how deep he was buried between your thighs. Your pussy dripping on him, pulsing and hot. His hair was damp from the pool, and now from sweat, his working like he was worshiping you.
Your fingers laced through his curls, pulling.
“Jake—oh my God.”
He didn’t stop. Just growled into you and pulled you closer, spreading you wider, tongue fucking into you as if he couldn’t decide whether to tease or devour. Then, his thumb slid up, wet from your slick, pressing soft tight circles against your clit as his tongue fucked in deeper.
You gasped, back arching.
“Jake, please—”
“You gonna come on my mouth?” he asked, almost sweetly. “You gonna make a mess on my face, baby?”
He was smiling against your sex, completely obsessed, like your shaking thighs and broken voice were exactly what he wanted to ruin. Like he wouldn’t be satisfied until you fell apart right here in the bathroom with his tongue buried inside you and your moans echoing off the tile.
You whimpered, trying to hold yourself up, but your knees were already buckling.
“Please, Jake—don’t stop—”
“Oh, I won’t,” he muttered against your clit, voice low and wrecked. “Not until you’re dripping down my chin.”
Then he sucked again. Hard, wet and loud. Totally obscene and shameless, his tongue flicking fast, his thumb grinding into your clit in tight circles, dragging your orgasm out of you like he was starving for it. You gasped, hips jolting forward as heat crashed through your spine and exploded in your belly.
Jake groaned into you, tongue lapping up every bit of your mess like it was his job. His arms locked around your thighs, holding you in place, making sure you felt every second of it, felt how messy you were, how wrecked, how much he loved it.
You came hard.
Your thighs clamped around his head, your toes curled, your hands scrabbling for the sink behind you as pleasure split you in half, hot and dizzying. Your whole body trembled, mouth falling open in a silent cry as your pussy pulsed around nothing, empty but aching, soaking his mouth and chin.
Jake only pulled back when your legs gave out.
He caught you, barely, arms around your waist, eyes heavy and glazed as he looked up at you, his face glistening with your slick, lips red and shiny, hair messy from your hands in it.
“So fucking good” he said, voice ruined.
Then he kissed you again, messy, open, licking into your mouth like he wanted you to taste yourself on him. In one movement, he shoved down his trunks and grabbed your thigh, hiking it up against the wall.
“You ready?” he said, lining himself up and thrusting in all at once, bottoming out. You gasped. “Gonna fuck you just how you like it.”
He was thick and deep and so fucking hard, stretching you open like your body had been waiting for him all year. His length throbbed through your soaked walls, still senstive but still wanting more. You cried out, back arching as Jake buried himself to the hilt, brutal thrusts that knocked the air from your lungs.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice low and ruined in your ear. “You’re so tight around me. Like this pussy’s been waiting all year, just for my cock.”
You clenched around him at the words, helpless, already overwhelmed. Your nails dug into his biceps as he held you pinned between his chest and the cold edge of the bathroom counter, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread wide open. He moved deep, dragging strokes that made you choke on your breath. His cock hit that spot inside you perfectly, rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls, making you tremble with every push.
Your head fell back, lips parted, completely at his mercy.
“God—fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, hips snapping faster. “Missed how you squeeze me. Missed these pretty fucking sounds. You make me insane.”
He grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto him harder, faster, skin slapping against skin as the bathroom filled with the sounds of filthy, frantic sex, wet, breathless, obsessed. The air inside was so hot, the mirror foggy, your body wet not only with water but with sweat and spit, every inch inside of you burning for him.
You wrapped your legs around him, holding on tight, body jerking with every thrust.
“Jake—oh my god—yes—fuck me, please—”
“I am, baby,” he growled, pounding into you. “Fucking you like you need.”
He kissed you, teeth and tongue and bruising need, before pulling back to spit the next words right against your mouth:
“That’s right. This pussy’s mine when you’re here. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin.”
A loud groan left his mouth, losing rhythm for a second, driving into you harder now, ruthless, like he wanted to fuck you so deep you’d still feel him tomorrow, his thrusts pounding into your soaked pussy, his body smacking against yours in loud, wet sounds that echoed off the walls. You moaned loud at that, barely holding back from coming again.
“I’m gonna fuck you all summer,” he hissed in your ear, fucking you harder. “Every night. Every morning. You understand?”
His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen, aching clit, rubbing tight circles that helped the pressure on your stomach start to build with so much force.
“You wanna cry on my cock again like you did last year?” he taunted, thumb dragging up to your clit as he pounded into you harder. “Huh? Gonna make a mess for me like a good fucking girl?”
Your body didn’t hold back anymore. You came again, gasping, clenching around him so tight he cursed into your neck, hips jerking as he came with you with a thick moan, hot, deep, full. He spilled inside you so familiar and warm and good, and you whimpered at the feeling. God, you missed it so much.
You collapsed into him, slick and shaking, still pinned to the wall as he caught his breath, mouth dragging across your collarbone like he couldn’t stop touching you.
“God,” he whispered, kissing your jaw. “I’m not letting you go a single night without this dick.”
Jake then pulled out slowly, the loss making you whimper again, and his eyes lost between your legs watching how you dripped him down your thighs, he bit his lip at the view. Then kissed you again, fast but hot, helping you put on your bikini bottoms again, still a bit dazed from the strong orgasm.
“You never do, anyways.”
He chuckled softly, putting his shorts on and hissing at the sensitivity on his cock, then placed a kiss on your forehead, winking an eye.
“Summer’s just getting started, baby.”
The days passed with not much happening. Parties, nights by the lake, fishing, movie nights in someone’s old basement. Almost every night ending the same way, everyone either passed out or going home.
Except you.
And Jake.
It always started with a look. That same look. Then a brush of his hand at your hip while you were helping clean up. Then a muttered, “Come with me,” while the others weren’t looking.
And ended with the two of you tangled in the backseat of his father’s car, windows halfway fogged, leather seats squeaking under the shift of your weight. You straddling him, panties shoved to the side, Jake’s hands gripping your waist tight as you rocked your soaked pussy over the thick, heavy length of his cock. Him fully inside you, buried deep, sweat dripping from his hairline as he hissed through his teeth. The night quiet except for the sound of your skins slapping together.
“Fuck, baby—” his voice was hoarse, raw. “You feel so fucking good. Always so tight for me.”
His nasty words always making you come even harder around his length.
“I’ve been thinking about this since you left,” he whispered, grabbing your ass and helping you move faster, harder. “Jacking off in my room like a fucking loser, imagining you bouncing on my cock just like this. Every fucking night.”
“Every summer,” he whispered. “You’ll always be mine.”
Other times were lazy sundays in his room, after a wild night, makeup still on your face, mascara smuged, but he always told you you looked beautiful that way. The sheets clinging to your bodies thanks to the sweat and the heat, Jake leaning his back against the bedframe, legs parted and you between them.
Still lazy, but hungry.
His cock already hard. Thick, flushed, glistening at the tip like it had been waiting for your mouth since the second he pulled you into the house.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed when you kissed the head, feeling him throb in your hand “You trying to ruin me, baby?”
You smiled, slow and wicked, as you licked a fat stripe up his shaft.
“I thought I already did.”
Jake’s head dropped back against the pillow, his hips twitching when you spat on his length, tongue swirled around the tip again, tasting the salty precum. You took your time, pressing kisses all over, teasing him, dragging your mouth down to his balls, licking and sucking until he was breathing through clenched teeth, abs tensing with every shift of your tongue.
“Shit—fuck” he gasped when you finally wrapped your lips around the head and sank down.
You moaned around him in response, and Jake swore, one hand flying into your hair.
“God, baby—your mouth is so fucking perfect.”
You bobbed your head slow, letting your tongue slide along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his face the whole time. You loved watching him fall apart, how his brows pulled together, how his lips parted in these breathless, broken moans. His whole body went tight under you, muscles flexing, thighs trembling with every stroke.
“You’re gonna make me come already,” he panted, voice shaking. “You’re so fuckin’ nasty, just—shit—look at you.”
You pulled off with a wet pop, breath hot against his cock.
“Then come,” you whispered, stroking him slow, tongue flicking at the tip. “I want it. In my mouth. On my face. Wherever the fuck you want.”
Jake groaned.
“God, I almost forgot how filthy you are,” he muttered, hips lifting, fucking into your fist as your lips wrapped around him again.
But when you both were drunk, it was even more messy.
Laughing too loud, bumping into the hallway walls on the way upstairs, hands already all over each other before the door even closed.
Jake’s breath hot in your ear, mouth on your neck, his fingers tangled in the hem of your dress as you shoved at his chest, stumbling backwards into the room.
“I fucking want you,” he slurred, lips grazing your jaw, voice ragged. “I want you so bad it’s fucking sick.”
“You always want me,” you whispered, giggling breathlessly as he kicked the door shut and you both tripped into the mattress like lunatics. “You’re obsessed with me.”
He grabbed your wrists and pinned you down into the bed, kissing you hard, messy, open-mouthed, teeth clashing, tongues tangling.
“I am obsessed with you,” he muttered against your mouth. “I think about you all year. Think about your moans, your thighs, your fucking cunt—”
“Jake—”
“I jerk off to the sound of your voice,” he hissed, already yanking your dress up over your hips. “To the memory of you riding me. You fuckin’ haunt me.”
You gasped when he tugged your panties down fast and rough, mouth hot on your throat. He didn’t even wait to undress himself properly, just unzipped, shoved his pants low, pushed your legs open and spat on your pussy like he couldn’t take it one second longer.
“You’re so wet,” he groaned. “Fuck, baby—this pussy missed me, didn’t it?”
He shoved into you in one brutal thrust, no teasing, no warning, just full length, all of him, thick and throbbing, slamming into your soaked heat like he was making up for lost time. And you screamed, legs wrapping around him as he rutted into you without rhythm, just hunger and need.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he panted. “You feel fucking insane. I’m gonna lose my fucking mind—”
His hands were under your ass, lifting you into every thrust, bed creaking under the pressure. His forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged, sweat dripping down his temple.
“I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” he whispered. “Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name.”
“You already do,” you moaned, nails dragging down his back.
Jake slammed deeper, taking every inch of your insides, pussy walls clenching around himc swallowing him like you were made for him, the room spinning not just from the alcohol but from the heat.
“You want it rough tonight, huh? Want me drunk and desperate, just using this pretty pussy ‘til I can’t even move?”
“Yes—fuck”
“You’re mine,” he spat, gripping your face, thumb sliding into your mouth. “Say it.”
“I’m yours—” you whined around his thumb, eyes rolling back.
He cursed, pulled out halfway, then slammed in again so hard you gasped.
“Say it louder.”
“I’m fucking yours!”
The air was thick with sweat, your bodies slick and tangled, the whole room smelling like sex and tequila and the kind of hunger you don’t come back from.
It was routine, it was habit. It was everything you could ask for. Because Jake didn’t just fuck you, he worshipped your body. Every thrust said mine. Every kiss felt dangerous. Every time he came inside you, it felt less like sex and more like surrender. He knew you so well, knew exactly what to say, where to touch, which speed to use. No other man had ever satisfied you the way he did.
And lately, he looked at you like you were a secret. Like you meant something. His touches were softer, his kisses more tender. He laid on your back and trailed his fingetips in slow circles and hummed songs in your ear.
But it scared you. You knew things with Jake wouldn’t be easy. He lived here, he belonged here, away, moving through calm days and quiet nights. You were different.
You were a city girl, you went to college, went to parties, woke up hangover on your friend’s penthouses.
It would never work. And never seeing him again, that really scared you.
So you kept your feelings tucked behind your tongue, hidden in the back of your throat behind every moan. You kissed him hard and pulled his hair and begged for more, but you never said please don’t fall for me.
Because sometimes, you thought maybe he already had.
And sometimes you thought maybe you had too.
Those thoughts were still consuming you days later, one morning in Jake’s bed.
You could hear the birds outside. The fan humming above. His slow, steady breath against your collarbone. Jake was still tangled around you, warm and heavy, like he’d melted into your skin overnight. His leg between yours. His arm around your waist. His hand—God, his hand—resting just under your breast, like it belonged there.
You wanted to stay there forever. In that golden, sleepy silence. Where nothing had to be said. Where everything could still be just sex and tequila and tradition. Where the feelings hadn’t spilled out yet.
But then he spoke.
“I don’t think I can do this again another year,” he said softly, voice hoarse with sleep.
You blinked slowly. Your body stiffened, but only just.
“What?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“This. Us. Fucking for a month and then going back to acting like we don’t know each other the rest of the year.”
You lifted your head, your heart already thudding in your chest. Jake was looking at you. Hair messy, lips still kiss-bitten, eyes swollen with everything he hadn’t said until now.
“I know we said this was casual,” he continued. “I know that’s what you want. But it’s not casual for me anymore.”
Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.
“I don’t want to wait eleven months to touch you again. I don’t want to only be yours in July. I want to wake up like this every day. I want to know what it feels like to take you out, not just sneak around.”
“Jake…”
“I want to know what it feels like to love you without pretending it’s just about sex.”
That word.
Love.
You sat up, pulling the sheet to your chest even though he’d seen every inch of you a thousand times. Even though he had your come drying on his stomach, your moans still in his mouth.
“Don’t say that, Jake” you said, voice suddenly cold.
“Why not?” he asked, brow furrowed.
“Because this wasn’t supposed to be that. That’s not what we do.”
Jake sat up too, confused, bare chest rising and falling as he tried to read your face.
“You can say everything to me when my cock’s inside you,” he said, eyes narrowing. “But the second I say I want more, you run?”
“I’m not running.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve been running since last summer. And the one before that.”
You stood from the bed, searching for your underwear like it was some kind of armor. The same scary thoughts in your head, the reality of it all hitting you.
“It’s not going to work, Jake. I told you since the beggining”
“No, you told me you didn’t want more.” He leaned forward, voice tighter now. “And I believed you. Until you started kissing me like I was the only thing keeping you breathing. Until you started holding me after like it meant something.”
You paused. Still facing the wall. Too afraid to look back.
“It’s safer this way,” you said quietly.
He laughed, bitter and humourless.
“Safer for you, maybe. But I’m the one who’s been waiting all year like a fucking idiot, hoping this time would be different.”
You turned to him finally, heart in your throat.
“I never asked you to wait.”
“No,” he said. “But you made it impossible not to.”
There was silence for a moment. And then Jake stood too. Naked, wrecked, still beautiful in the morning light. His eyes softer now. But sad. So fucking sad.
“I would’ve given you everything,” he said. “I still would.”
You didn’t answer.
You just grabbed your dress, your phone, and walked out of the room with tears in your eyes and his name like a stone in your throat.
The city felt bigger than usual.
You stood in the middle of your room in a t-shirt that wasn’t yours—his, oversized and worn-in, somehow ended up in your suitcase, probably from the night you threw up in his lap—sleeves pushed up to your elbows. It smelled faintly of saltwater and sweat and the faded remnants of Jake’s cologne, like a scent memory you were scared would disappear the second you washed it.
Your suitcase was still half-open on the floor. You hadn’t unpacked.
Outside, the city roared like it always did, sirens in the distance, someone yelling two blocks away, a motorcycle growling past, but all you could think about was the way the crickets used to sing by the lake. How the air back there tasted like bonfire and beer and warm skin. How the quiet meant something when it was wrapped around Jake’s voice and his breath on your neck in the dark.
You padded barefoot to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water with shaking hands, but your stomach felt like it was folding in on itself.
Everything was fine.
But then you opened your phone.
And scrolled.
And there he was.
Jake, half-naked on the dock, laughing with Ni-ki, holding a beer, dripping wet from the lake. Jake, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on your bare thigh, sunglasses low on his nose, smirking like he owned the world. Jake, leaning over you in the backseat after Sunoo’s pool party, whispering filth into your mouth while everyone else was drunk and distracted.
Your heart twisted, sharp and slow and sick.
You hadn’t seen him since that morning. Since you ripped yourself out of his sheets and out of his arms and walked away with your pride held like a shield across your chest.
He didn’t come to Sunghoon’s goodbye party, he didn’t come to the last movie night in Jungwon’s basement.
He didn’t text. He didn’t call. He didn’t even look at your story.
And you didn’t reach out.
And now, in the dim hush of your apartment, with the AC buzzing and your body wrapped in his old shirt, the weight of it crushed you.
You slid to the floor, back against the bedframe, phone in your lap, eyes burning.
Because you wanted to be the girl who could let go. The girl who could take the pleasure, take the heat, take the memory, and walk away untouched.
But this time you weren’t her.
This time, you wanted more.
You wanted mornings. You wanted winter. You wanted him.
But you were too scared to say it.
So now you sat in the silence you chose, surrounded by his ghost, with nothing left but a hundred memories that all smelled like sex and regret.
You hadn’t turned on the lights, letting the soft blue glow of the television flicker across the room, even though you weren’t really watching anything. Just letting sound fill the silence.
And then… A knock.
You blinked. Stilled. For a second, you thought maybe you imagined it.
Then it came again.
Three gentle raps against your apartment door.
Your heart flipped. Your chest tightened. You stood slowly, like moving too fast would make it disappear. And when you opened the door…
Jake was there.
In the hallway, under the soft yellow glow of the broken light overhead, hair messy, hoodie half-zipped, eyes rimmed with exhaustion and something worse, like maybe he hadn’t slept in days. Like maybe he’d replayed that morning in his head a hundred times, and it still broke him every time.
“Hi,” he said softly.
You stopped breathing.
He looked… wrecked.
And beautiful. Standing in front of you like he had no idea what he was supposed to say now that he’d actually come.
“I didn’t know if you’d open the door,” he admitted, voice quiet.
You swallowed, gripping the edge of the door like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
“I almost didn’t.”
Jake let out a soft breath. Nodded. Then looked up at you, eyes shining a little too much.
“I had to see you, i booked the cheapest ticket” he said. “I couldn’t just let it end like that.”
You said nothing. Just looked at him, bare, faced and trembling, still holding the doorknob like it was a weapon.
He took a tiny step forward.
“I fucked up. I should’ve let you have your space. I should’ve waited. But I couldn’t. I’ve been losing my fucking mind thinking about you.”
“Jake…”
“No,” he said gently. “Let me say it.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his voice thick now. Full with honesty and feelings.
“I meant everything I said. I meant it when I told you I wanted more. I meant it when I said I couldn’t keep doing this once-a-year bullshit. Because it’s not just summer to me anymore. It’s not just sex. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
Your chest ached. He looked straight at you, no shields, no teasing smile, just a boy standing at the edge of something terrifying, begging you to take a step toward him.
“I’m in love with you,” he said, barely a whisper. “I think I’ve been in love with you my whole life, since the first time i fucked you. And I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”
You blinked fast, heart beating so loud it hurt.
“I didn’t know how to… I thought if I said it out loud it would ruin everything.”
He nodded.
“So did I.”
“But it didn’t,” you said, voice trembling. “It ruined everything not saying it.”
Jake gave the softest smile. Sad, but hopeful. Like he still wasn’t sure if you were going to slam the door or fall into his arms.
So you reached for him. You grabbed the front of his hoodie, pulled him inside, shut the door behind him. And when your mouth crashed into his, hot, desperate, full of all the things you hadn’t said, Jake knew.
Sending sex tapes to their shared group chat was nothing out of the ordinary it had always been a thing between all of them and this time around Heeseung was just showing you off a little. But Jay won’t stop watching the video, in fact he can’t. He also can’t stop thinking about you.
minors do not interact
pairing: jay x afab reader | heeseung x afab reader
wc: 25k
content tags/warnings: SMUT, possessive behavior, filming sex tapes, jealousy, voyeurism, consensual non-monogamy, exhibitionism, obsession, power dynamics, toxic friendship, emotional manipulation, guilt, shame, unprotected sex, multiple partners, light coercion (negotiated), unresolved feelings, blurred boundaries, dominant behavior, aftercare, emotionally complex relationships, low impulse control, lots of yearning, suggestive language, complicated emotions, unhealthy attachment, mentions of enhypen’s jake and sunghoon. NOT PROOFREAD.
nene’s note: it’s sincerely embarrassing how long it took for me to post this, the constant shifting of release dates? sigh, i’m sorry it’s late but please enjoy 💕
nsfw tags under the cut
oral sex (m!receiving and f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, rough sex, voyeurism, overstimulation (light), edging (implied), begging, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, possessive dirty talk, squirting, cumshot, light restraint, intense eye contact, emotionally loaded sex, consensual power imbalance, mutual fixation. let me know if i missed any.
Jay had always liked predictable things. Things like his mother's fresh flowers in a vase on the kitchen counter, or the exact way his father folded the newspaper every morning, the scent of breakfast always starting before his alarm could wake him. There was a steady rhythm to his life and most days, it made everything feel manageable.
He liked having clean socks, just like he liked dinner on the table by six and knowing where everything was without having to look for it. Jay wasn't the type to call it comfort, but it was.
Still, it wasn't exactly freedom.
At twenty three, he had a stable enough job, a savings account, a good wardrobe, and a car with a clean backseat. On paper, he was doing fine, better than fine in fact, depending on who you asked. His parents liked to remind him of that, always with a hint of pride threaded into their voices. "You're doing everything right, Jongseong" his mom would say, patting his arm. "There’s no reason to rush."
He actually never rushed, and maybe was part of the problem.
Heeseung always rushed. Jake stumbled forward and somehow always landed right where he needed to be. Even Sunghoon, with all his weird detachment and quiet moods, had at least gotten out, new job, new place, new city. Jay stayed behind in their hometown just thirty minutes away.
Not because he couldn't leave. He just...hadn't yet.
Maybe it was habit, or comfort, or even just fear disguised as logic. Whatever the reason, his clothes still hung in the same closet they had since high school. His cologne still sat on the same dresser and his life still felt paused, maybe tidy and organized, but still paused.
He didn't really get lonely, well at least not in any way he could admit.
Weekends were always reserved for the boys, Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon. Sometimes they'd meet at the rooftop of Jake's apartment, sometimes a bar, but most often it was Heeseung's penthouse apartment—his place was nice, private and very adult. Jay would sit on the edge of Heeseung's expensive couch with a drink in hand, nodding along to their stories, laughing when it was expected, even when something inside him felt miles away.
He never said much or rather he didn’t need to. He'd mastered the art of watching without being noticed, like he was always listening, absorbing and filing things away.
And if there were fleeting or private moments where he caught himself imagining something more or something that didn't feel like waiting? He never lingered on them long.
He liked control and order, as well as being the one no one ever had to worry about.
Still, sometimes he wondered what it would feel like to finally fuck it all up. To ruin everything and run away somewhere far, but there were factors that would make that damn near impossible. Jay had grown up in Heeseung's gravity.
Looking back at the memories he had of his childhood always made his stomach squeeze.
The elementary school sports day, Heeseung took first in the hundred yard dash, and the teacher handed Jay a bright blue participation ribbon. In the middle school talent show, Heeseung strummed a very off key guitar and the crowd roared while Jay played a flawless piano piece and heard polite claps.
By high school, Jay had stopped comparing report cards and started memorizing the look on Heeseung's face whenever he won, which was always easy, unbothered even, almost like winning was his resting state.
It never felt malicious, but that somehow only made it worse. Heeseung didn't try to outshine him—he just did. Jay became the reliable shadow, he smart enough to help with homework, steady enough to drive home when the parties got out of hand and invisible enough that no one minded when he left early.
The years all blurred together and the hierarchy solidified into law, until the night Heeseung walked into Jake’s family barbecue with you on his arm.
Jay remembers the color of your dress from that night, you had your hair twisted into a clip, and a tiny mole at the corner of your mouth that Jay noticed and immediately pretended he hadn't
You were soft around the edges with a careful smile as you walked in hand in hand with Heeseung, said hi to Jake’s parents ever so politely, and laughed at a volume that made people lean in instead of turn around. Watching you felt like listening to a song he already knew by heart.
Heeseung had introduced you like it was inevitable, “This is my girlfriend, you'll love her.” And very unsurprisingly, everyone did. Jake had tried to charm you, Sunghoon had talked to you about music while Jay kept quiet, studying how your hand never left Heeseung's, thumb tracing idle circles as though it had always belonged there. If perfect was a person, it was you—effortless, luminous and absolutely taken.
In the months that came you became a fixture in Heeseung’s life sharing fries at three in the morning, cheering them on at pick up basketball, folding yourself into group photos with that same gentle certainty.
You and Heeseung fit together like two halves that had been misplaced and finally clicked again. So when he proposed nine months later on your anniversary dinner on the beach with the string quartet and the ring glittering like a dare, no one looked a tad bit surprised. Jake cheered, Sunghoon filmed on his phone and Jay clapped with everyone else.
Whatever tight, strange, unnamable feeling he felt that night was swallowed with the champagne.
Because Heeseung always gets there first, and Jay has never learned how to want something once it's already spoken for.
Sending sex tape type videos to the group chat was something that started way back in their freshman year of college, it was never anything cruel and never ever without permission, it was just something that became a quiet, consistent ritual between the four of them.
Jake always had the most enthusiastic submissions, all winks and filters and girls who giggled into the camera, flashing peace signs before their makeup smeared. Sunghoon's were rarer but dirtier, he had a thing for messy angles and dim lighting, like he wanted the tape to feel stolen and Heeseung? He had been the king.
Back in college, he practically ran the group chat, with a new girl every other weekend, a new clip that was always high quality, always enthusiastic. His videos were annoyingly polished, sometimes cut together with music, like he had a secret career in indie porn. The girls adored him, and it showed in the way they moaned, begged and clung to him like they'd forget how to breathe if he stopped touching them.
Jay shared the least, always a couple of grainy clips, mostly of girls going down on him and vice versa, never anything more than that. He didn't like seeing his own face or the feeling afterward, it made him feel like he was pretending to be someone who knew what to do with all that power. Most of his experience came with nerves, not dominance. So he stuck to low angles and silence and let the others fill the space.
And then came you.
From the moment Heeseung introduced you, everything changed. He stopped sending clips. Full stop. No blurry nudes, no grainy voice memos, not even a photo of your back in bed. At first, the others joked about it, something about him being "Whipped already?" or "Where's our content king?", but Heeseung just grinned, shrugged and didn't offer anything, not even a tease.
That was the sign, Jay thinks now. That was when he should've known just how deep Heeseung was in.
Which is why what's on Jay's screen right now feels like a mistake.
He's sitting on the edge of his bed, heart pounding like a bassline, the group chat still open on his phone. No message or caption. Just a thirty second video file from Heeseung.
He stares at the thumbnail for a long time. It's a bit blurry with just a flash of skin, the curve of someone's thigh, a warm-toned filter, but his throat goes dry the second he recognizes your hand and your ring.
Jay clicks it.
The screen goes black for a beat before the video begins. The first thing he sees is you completely naked and flat on your back in soft in peach-toned lighting. One hand flutters to your face, covering your eyes with a shy little giggle. The sound is sweet, breathy and vulnerable in a way Jay is so not ready for. The way your body shifts under the camera's gaze isn't self conscious, it's playful, like you're well aware of being watched.
Then Heeseung's voice comes teasing and way too close to the mic in Jay’s opinion. "Are you shy? Or are you just showing off that ring, baby?"
The camera zooms deliberately, toward your hand, the one still covering your face. Heeseung's fingers appear in the frame, gently tugging your wrist down and you let him. Jay watched the ring sparkle under the light.
"You want me to talk about the cut again?" "What did the guy say? Princess, right?"
Your giggle again, softer this time followed with a quiet little "mmhmm" as you blink up at the lens. Jay watches the smile spread across your face, it’s the kind that blooms slowly, like you're not even really thinking about it.
And that's the moment, like the exact second Jay realizes he's not supposed to be watching this. And it’s not because it's too intimate or because it's sex, it’s because of the way you look at Heeseung, like your whole world ends and begins with him.
It makes something in Jay's chest tightens.
Heeseung hasn't even touched you yet in the video, and Jay is already flushed down to his damn fingertips. Already pausing and rewinding, staring at the way your skin glows under that warm, bedroom light.
It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and it's not for him.
His stomach twists with something awful, he doesn’t even know if it’s shame guilt or hunger. All he knows is that the ring on your finger feels louder than anything else in the room. That soft little "mmhmm" loops in his ears even after he stops the video.
The video ends there with just your voice, your smile and the glint of the ring.
Jay exhales like he's been holding his breath for days but then he clicks play again…and again.
Watches the ring, your giggle, the way your knees curl slightly inward as you cover your face. It's cinematic to him, it’s so intimate in a way that doesn't even feel like porn. Like Heeseung filmed it for himself, not them, it makes Jay feel like he’s intruding.
He doesn't even notice the chat buzzing until Jake's message pops up, bright and completely irreverent.
Jake: bro wtf why would u end it THERE
Sunghoon: at least let us see you hit 😒
Jay blinks. Right. Them. The rest of the group. For a second, he'd forgotten this wasn't a private moment and that it was meant to be shared.
His thumb hovers over the play button again, but before he can hit it, another message pings in the chat, and it’s a new video—a one minute long video.
Jay clicks it with clammy hands, screen full.
The video starts with your laugh, so bright and unguarded. You're on your knees on the bed this time, hair loose around your shoulders, completely naked. Heeseung's hand is in the frame, curled gently around your jaw, guiding your face toward the camera.
"Say hi to the guys," he says, offscreen.
You look directly into the lens and smile. "Hi, boys," you say sweetly and playfully, almost like your entire body isn't on display, glittering with lotion or sweat or some dewy mixture of both.
Jay feels his lungs stop working.
You're so fucking perfect, more perfect than he ever imagined and the realization nearly knocks the wind out of him—because of course he imagined. Not in a graphic way, not exactly, he never even let the thoughts linger but that’s not to say they weren’t always there, at the edges. The idea of you, the softness of your voice, or the way you moved through the world like nothing could shake you.
But this? Seeing your skin, the fullness of your breasts, the way your thighs press together slightly as you smile into the camera like you know exactly what kind of power you're holding? It’s too much for Jay.
He's not even listening to Heeseung's voice anymore, saying something about how pretty you look, how sweet you're being. Jake sends another comment, something crude maybe. Sunghoon drops a laughing emoji.
The camera doesn't move. It stays on your face for a few precious seconds, just long enough for Jay to memorize every blink and breath of yours. You're still smiling faintly, flushed but unbothered, hair messy around your shoulders, gaze fixed sweetly on the lens when Heeseung’s voice comes again, "Lay back and spread your legs for me, baby."
There isn’t a thought behind your eyes when you do as Heeseung said, there’s also no shyness this time. You shift your weight delicately on your elbows, then lean back slightly on both of them. There's no rush or performance to your movements, it’s just you obeying Heeseung.
Your knees fall apart in the frame and the camera dips lower, Jay can’t even stop the “Fuck.” that comes out of the mouth if he tried.
You're glistening, and it’s impossible for Jay not to stare. It’s not from oil or sweat, but from slick, real arousal, dripping down your folds and shining under the bedroom light. Heeseung says something approving but Jay barely hears it over his blood pounding in his ears.
Your body looks so soft spread open and the image burns into Jay's skull.
He knows now, without a doubt, that this isn't the first take. That Heeseung has probably filmed you like this before, many times, cause you’ve let him and you’ve liked it.
Jay thinks God must be on his side when the third video drops in the group chat and he doesn’t even give himself time to think before pressing play.
"Do you want to touch yourself for me, baby?" Heeseung’s voice starts off the video.
You dip your head, lips parting in a little whine that makes Jay's cock twitch in his pajama pants. The camera captures the barest quiver of your shoulders before your hand hesitantly lifts toward your pussy.
But you don't go through with it. Instead, you drop your hand and arch your back, voice soft with need, "No...I want you to do it."
Heeseung chuckles, that deliciously smug sound Jay's heard too many times before, "Brat."
He swings the camera around just enough to catch your flushed face before turning it to himself for a second to look straight into the lens, "This is how she whines for me all the time, boys."
Jay watches as Heeseung props the camera up on the nightstand, angling it so perfectly that all Jay or anyone watching can see is how wet you are for your fiancee. You're laid out so prettily on the bed, back arched a little with your arms at your sides like. Heeseung's between your thighs again, but this time, he's taking his time.
"Relax, baby," he say loud enough for the camera to catch as he spreads your legs further by your knees. "You know I got you, right?"
You nod, breathless, eyes fluttering open for only a second before you close them again.
Jay watches your thighs shake as Heeseung's fingers stroke through your folds gently, coated in the wetness he's already drawn from you. Then he leans in and presses a kiss right above your clit, murmuring against your skin, "So pretty down here."
Jay swallows.
Heeseung's fingers begin to circle your entrance, teasing you with light pressure before slowly sliding two inside. You moan instantly and your hips shift up, your thighs already trying to close. Heeseung tuts softly. "Ah ah," he says. "Don’t do that, baby."
When you try again, when your hips shift and your hands scramble at the sheets like you can pull yourself away from the overwhelming pleasure, Heeseung laughs something quiet and amused and filled to the brim with the kind of easy confidence that only deepens Jay's gnawing resentment.
"You know better," Heeseung says warmly as his free hand presses your stomach down. "Let me take care of you."
Jay can't stop watching.
Your body melts under his words, under his touch. Heeseung curls his fingers just right and your moan breaks halfway into a gasp. Your hands fly to your face, but Heeseung coaxes them down, holding your wrist gently.
"No hiding. Don’t you wanna show them what you look like when you cum for me?"
You whimper his name, and he just shushes you, planting soft kisses on your thighs, thumb circling your clit slow and steady as his fingers pump deeper in your cunt.
"Good girl," he breathes. "My perfect girl. You take me so well, don't you?"
Jay's heart nearly stops beating. There’s just something about the way Heeseung loves you through it, he praises every reaction, he touches you like he's grateful for the chance to be in your presence.
Jay has never seen anyone look at another person that way before.
Heeseung leans down, lips brushing your inner thigh, and you're already shaking again. Your voice trembles with your words, "Hee, please", and Jay watches you dissolve all over again as Heeseung takes his time kissing lower, deeper, until his mouth replaces his fingers and your hands are gripping the sheets, trying to hold on.
The sound you make when he moans into you is so raw and Heeseung just holds you open, ignoring the way you try to squirm away. "I said no running," he says with a smile on his lips slick with your essence. "Be good. Let me have it."
Jay sees it all.
The way your legs tremble, your stomach tenses. The wetness that catches the light. The desperate, overwhelming pleasure that ripples through you until you're crying out, again, maybe for the third time, but Jay's lost count by now.
You're not even fully conscious of the camera anymore. You're no longer putting on a show.
This is real, that’s what wrecks Jay the most and he feels it before he can even realize it. That slow, aching throb in his pants. The way his traitorous hand curls near his thigh like it might move on its own. He shifts on the edge of his bed, heart pounding too loud for how quiet the room still is.
The screen hasn't gone dark yet cause the video loops back to the start after it ends. Heeseung's voice smooth, "Relax, baby."
Fuck.
He blinks, like maybe that'll clear his head, but all it does is make him more aware of how tight his pants are now. How warm his body is with familiar tension and how absolutely wrong it feels right now.
Because he knows Jake and Sunghoon are definitely not reacting like this.
They’d been normal and casual about it, the way guys are when they're impressed by one of their friends pulling something off.
They'd moved on by now, or were probably still joking around about how extra Heeseung was for sending three different videos. Jay hadn't even replied, in fact he couldn't. His phone is still in his hand with the soft glow of the screen painting his face and inside him, something is beginning to unravel. He should’ve swiped away after the first one, he shouldn’t hav estates at how easily you fell apart beneath Heeseung's hands and he shouldn't be feeling this way.
You're his best friend's fiancée.
His perfect girl.
His stomach twists again, because he knows this isn't what friends do and this isn't what normal feels like. It's something else, Jay doesn't know how to name it, all he knows is that it burns.
Jay can still feel the phantom vibration of the phone in his palm long after the screen finally dims, as if the video is calling him back for one more replay.
But eight viewings have already blurred together and a ninth won't clarify anything.
He sits in the dark, listening to the tick of the wall clock and the too-loud beat of his own pulse. Guilt sours the aftertaste of all the arousal. The last thing burned into his brain isn't even your body, it's the total trust in your eyes when you whispered "want you to do it" and the way let Heeseung's mouth pull such broken sounds from your throat.
A sound Jay has filed away under dangerous.
He showers cold, changes his sheets, tells himself it was a lapse and not a habit. Except he can still conjure the smell of your skin, maybe sun warmed cotton and lotion, like it's embedded in memory oil, maybe that’s what makes him save the very last video to his camera roll. By dawn he hasn't slept, but he's decided on two rules for when he wakes up. 1. Delete the video. and 2. Act normal.
Normal lasts exactly fourteen hours, all because Heeseung texted the group at 4 o'clock with—drinks at mine after work, bring whoever. Jay wants to beg off, say it's exhaustion, but habit is stronger. Five hours later, the elevator doors slide open on the fortieth floor, and the first thing he hears is your laugh echoing down the corridor.
He isn't prepared to be this close to you after last night.
You're barefoot in Heeseung's kitchen, hair twisted up, an oversized linen shirt buttoned only halfway, clearly Heeseung’s judging by the length. You're stirring something in a copper pot, while Heeseung circles behind you trying to snake a hand under the hem. You swat him on reflex, cheeks warm but smiling, "I'm cooking, behave."
Jay freezes in the entryway, he feels every pulse of blood in his body migrate south before ricocheting back to his throat. He does not need you three feet away after touching himself to the sight of you less than twenty four hours ago.
Heeseung spots him first, grins. "About time. Grab a glass."
Jay manages to nod, but then you turn and your smile is easy. "Rough day at the office?" you ask, and the casual concern in your voice makes the earlier images throb sharper in his skull. He mutters something about a report, keeps his eyes on the cutting board, not your legs.
Heeseung tries again, palm sliding beneath the tail of your shirt, fingers splaying over your hip. You hiss a breathy laugh and flick a wooden spoon across his wrist. "Hot stove, greedy hands. Later."
Jay notes the word later, thinking of how you'd begged for those greedy hands last night on camera. Tonight you're coy, blushing. Why? For whose benefit?
Jake's voice erupts from the living room before Jay can unravel it.
"Oh—Jay you’re here."
Jay glances over to the dining table and blinks. Jake is already sat on one of the chairs, some girl perched sideways across his lap, long legs draped like she's posing for a photo shoot. Jay doesn't even recognize her, but laughs at something Jake whispers and tips tequila into shot glasses lined on the coffee table so they must be familiar.
Just another new name Jay won't remember tomorrow. Sunghoon comes around the corner with lime wedges, offers Jay a silent chin nod that says welcome. Jay pours himself bourbon he doesn't want and slips onto a chair, throat dry even with the ice in his glass.
You slide a steaming serving pan of pasta to the center of the dining table and gesture for plates. For one disorienting second Jay imagines you sliding to your back instead, the way you did last night on his screen, shy smile aimed at him. He drags in air, blinks hard multiple times and forces the thought away.
Heeseung loops an arm around your waist, tugging you against him while you standing dishing food. His hand skims under the shirt again, fingertips teasing up your ribs, thumb brushing just under your breast, nothing crazy, but intimate enough that Jay's stomach knots. You elbow Heeseung with a laugh, still plating the food, whispering something Jay can't hear but guesses is not in for his ears.
He wonders when you started policing modesty. He wonders if Jake's girl will care when she sees the videos inevitably make the group chat. Mostly, he wonders what you would do or say if you knew exactly how many times he replayed the part where you were cumming on Heeseung's tongue.
The bourbon now tastes like punishment but he takes another sip anyway, eyes fixed on the slow glide of Heeseung's hand beneath your shirt, and tries and fails not to imagine it as his own. He focuses his eyes on your pasta at the center of the table—some creamy, lemony thing with herbs Jay can't name. Heeseung fills your plate before serving himself, and without pause or ceremony, he tugs you into his lap like instinct.
Jay watches how fluid the motion is. How your body curves into Heeseung's chest without missing a beat of your sentence. You're deep in conversation with Jake's girl, diagonally across the table, something about an art exhibition downtown. The two of you click instantly, or maybe you’re already friends? Jay can’t tell and he still doesn't know her name.
She's got one leg slung over Jake's thigh now, balancing a fork between her fingers as she talks, Jake doesn't seem to mind though. He's busy dragging the back of his knuckles up and down her bare thigh, more focused on the rhythm of that touch than the dinner in front of him.
Jay stabs a piece of pasta, chews slowly, forces himself not to look at the way Heeseung's fingers drift idly along the inside of your thigh beneath the table, and the table conversation rolls forward without him, ambient and mostly tuned out, until Heeseung's voice cuts in, full of smug warmth. "Jay should find someone, too. You're too picky, man. You ever think about letting her set you up again?" He thumbs toward you like it's obvious.
Jay doesn't have time to answer cause Sunghoon snorts beside him, tossing back his drink. "Not everyone finds love in nine months, bro. Some of us are still recovering."
Jay smirks into his glass as Heeseung waves him off. "Okay, okay, tragic, whatever. I'm serious though." He looks back at Jay. "You want her to introduce you to someone? Like she did with Jake and...what's her name again?" He whispers the last part but she hears anyway.
The girl across the table lifts her head lazily. "Sofi."
Sofi—Jay commits it to memory, tasting it more than the pasta he’s trying to chew.
"I didn't set them up," you say lightly, twisting noodles onto your fork, "I just invited her to a party. The rest is on them."
Sofi grins and tilts her head toward Jake. "We're just fucking anyway."
Jay nearly chokes on his drink at the way Jake's head swivels. "We are?"
There's a beat of stunned silence before Sofi shrugs as if she didn't just drop a weight on the conversation. "Aren't we?"
Jay watches Jake blink. For once, the easy charm slips a little. "I mean...yeah, but I thought—"
Sofi's already sipping her drink, completely unbothered. "Don't think too hard. It's fun. That's all."
The air shifts slightly with a ripple of something unspoken moving across the table.
Heeseung laughs first, a short and amused sound,. "Damn. Brutal."
You nudge him with your elbow, but you're smiling too. "Be nice."
Jay looks at you again, really looks this time. You're cross legged in Heeseung's lap, one hand steady on your wine glass, the other tucked into his loose grip on your thigh. Your collarbones peek out from beneath the draped shirt, your hair is curling near your neck from the heat of the kitchen, and your laugh is the softest thing in the room.
He doesn't know how you're real and he really doesn't know how the hell Heeseung got you. But he's starting to realize that maybe the part that scares him the most is that he doesn't even resent Heeseung for it—hejust wishes he could be him.
He tears his gaze away from you and lingers it on the rim of his liquor glass, swirling the last sip as the conversation hums around him laced with laughter. He watches Heeseung press a kiss to your temple, murmuring something that makes your eyes crinkle at the corners. Whatever it is that he said softens you and as if in reflex, he sees it soften Heeseung too.
Seeing a softer side to Heeseung has Jay remembering all the times he used to punch walls before he ever paused to breathe. The nights they'd get kicked out of bars because Heeseung couldn't keep his mouth shut and didn't care to try. Jay had watched his best friend throw fists over the dumbest shit.
Heeseung was the kind of guy who used to boil, walking around with a lit fuse, daring the world to light it, and then you walked into his life with eyes that didn't need to demand attention to own the room.
You never even tried to change Heeseung, maybe that’s what made it worse or real.
Jay remembers the first time he witnessed it. You and Heeseung had been fighting over some miscommunication. Jay had braced for the usual raised voice and harsh words that always followed with a clipped "you're overreacting" that came before the fallout between Heeseung and a girl.
But it never came. You'd just looked at Heeseung, not even with disappointment, but patience. And then you'd said his name so gently Jay thought it might break something. Imagine Jay’s stunned reaction when Heeseung actually stopped, took a breath and apologized.
Just like that.
Jay had stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, pretending to look at his phone, witnessing his best friend soften in real time, right in front of his eyes. And it wasn't a one off, like something Heeseung was faking to keep you happy. A pattern was forming, as if your presence just rewired him, as if being loved by you taught him a new language he never knew he needed to learn. These days, Heeseung was still sharp, still clever, but there’s no edge to him anymore, no spark waiting to blow.
Jay sets the glass down a little too quietly.
It's not just that Heeseung changed. It's why.
He changed because of you. For you, and he doesn’t even seem to resent it, on the contrary he looks grateful.
Jay shifts in his seat, suddenly too warm, his shirt clinging at the collar. He looks over at you again and you’re laughing softly now, your fingers absently combing through Heeseung's hair.
Jay can't stop himself from wondering—if you were his...would he be better too? Would you make him softer too? But he can’t let the thoughts dance around for too long cause the girl who changed everything will never be his. Regardless of how many years Jay had spent tailing Heeseung’s flame, talking him down from ledges, cleaning up his messes and covering for him when Heeseung couldn't even be bothered to lie to his parents.
There had been some kind of pride in it back then. In being the one person who could calm Heeseung down, being the only one he really listened to.
Now?
Jay watches from across the dinner table as Heeseung splays his palm across your stomach and says something low against your shoulder, soft as a secret. You don't flinch when he touches you or stiffen to look for permission. You just lean in like gravity's been pulling you there the whole time.
It's surreal to watch, because this version of Heeseung? Jay can’t recognize him. This man who doesn't need to dominate every room he walks into. Who laughs without sounding like he's sneering. Who lets someone else, that’s not Jay, see every unguarded part of him without putting up a fight.
And it's not performative cause Jay's watched him closely, maybe too closely. It's not an act to impress you or win points, Heeseung just genuinely wants to be better.
Jay remembers the first and only time he tried to joke about it, telling Heeseung he had gone soft. It was just the two of them at a bar, and Heeseung had laughed, sure, but then he'd looked down at his glass and gone quiet, a rare, thoughtful kind of quiet Jay never used to see from him. And he'd said, "I'm not soft. I just don't feel like fighting anymore. Not when I've got her to come home to."
The weight of it had stuck with Jay.
Heeseung wasn't scared of losing control anymore because you were the one holding the other end of the leash and he’d given it to you willingly.
Jay's throat tightens as he cuts into his pasta. He tells himself he's not thinking about the way you reached for Heeseung's fork earlier, like it belonged to you. He's not thinking about how Heeseung gave it up without a word and picked up yours instead, like it was so natural. He's definitely not thinking about the video still sitting in his camera roll and how different Heeseung had sounded in that too. The praise, the patience, the fucking adoration in his voice cause to him you were and are something so divine.
Jay thought he knew Heeseung better than anyone, cause he'd seen every shade of him—every explosion, every silence, every dark corner.
But he hadn't seen this not until you and for Jay, that might be the hardest part to stomach. That the best version of his best friend, the one with warmth and devotion and depth, was shaped entirely by your hands.
Jay thinks back to Heeseung's first mention of you and how it had sounded like a dare.
It was a Tuesday last year, the four of them jammed into a booth after work. He'd walked in thirty minutes late, loosened his tie, and dropped into the seat across from Sunghoon with that particular look in his eye, the look that meant he'd found a new game to win.
"Met a girl in the lobby of 74 Davies," he said, drumming restless fingers on the varnished table. "Client meeting, she was there with some architecture firm. Tall, smart, absolute fucking knockout. Biggest eyes I've ever seen."
Jake whistled and Sunghoon muttered something about Heeseung's never ending type, but Heeseung wasn't joking, he was intent and energized in a way Jay hadn't seen since college.
"She's playing hard to get," he went on, smiling at the memory. "Barely even looked at me. Gave me her card like she was doing fucking paperwork." He'd tapped the business card against his phone screen all night, repeating your name until it lodged in Jay's head like a tumor.
For weeks, every casual meet up bled into talk of the girl from 74 Davies. Heeseung reported every encounter, because of course he kept going back there. He went on and on about you, how you kept conversation civil but short, how once you'd laughed at something he said and then immediately caught yourself, lips pressing shut like you'd given away a secret.
"The most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on," he'd insisted, serious as scripture. "I'm getting her. Watch me."
And true to his word, he did.
Two months later you strolled into Jake’s family’s backyard wearing a white sundress and an easy smile, greeting the boys like you'd known them in a different life. Jay remembered how suddenly the sky had felt too low, how the lanterns overhead seemed to snap into sharper focus with you standing beneath them.
From that night forward Heeseung's orbit shifted. He started leaving the office on time, cut his weekend parties in half, swapped whiskey for sparkling water when you had early meetings. He didn't boast about bonuses anymore, he calculated them quietly, like numbers in a private equation titled Her Future.
Jay saw the signs in the way Heeseung suddenly took certification courses he'd mocked before, started saying things like "equity split" and "portfolio diversity." All for you. So he could, as he'd phrased it once over late night ramen, "give her everything before she even thinks to ask."
And he had, the princess cut diamond glinting on your finger was evidence, a physical sum of every hour Heeseung spends working.
When Jay finally manages to come back from this thoughts the table has settled into warm hums of conversation with pasta bowls scraped clean. The city lights spill in from the floor to ceiling windows, scattering reflections across the glasses.
"I'm serious," Heeseung is saying, gentler than the words might suggest. "I don't want you running site visits once we're married. Too many all nighters, too many flights."
You pout fondly. "I love my job."
"I love you more," he counters, kissing your. "I'll work twice as hard so you don't have to."
Jay watches the soft debate unfold, there’s no venom, just that subtle push and pull that has defined you two since day one. You tease him about being a control freak, he teases you about being a workaholic, but beneath it is the unwavering certainty that either of you would bend the whole world if the other asked.
Jay wonders what that certainty feels like, wonders what it does to a man's pulse, to know someone's heart beats willingly in his hands. He wonders if that's why Heeseung's temper dissolved, maybe because anger is pointless when the thing you once fought everything for is suddenly offered to you, every day, for free.
"Tell him, Jay," you say, turning toward him, eyes bright. "Work is where I get all my good stories. I'd be boring without it."
Jay swallows, as your gaze pins him, friendly, oblivious to the reel of images playing behind his eyes—the way your body trembled under Heeseung's fingers last night, the soft gasp you made when you tried to scoot away and he laughed at you.
He clears his throat. "She'd die of cabin fever," he manages, voice almost steady. "You'd miss her stories."
Heeseung sighs with feigned resignation, nose brushing your hair. "Fine. We compromise. No red eye flights. And you start delegating."
You grin, triumphant. He kisses you again, a promise sealed.
Jay looks down at the ring, at the way it catches the chandelier light in sparks. It's a clean perfect circle, reflecting everything back. He wonders if there's a single inch of space for anyone else in that ring's reflection, or if it's all Heeseung, all the time.
Probably the latter.
He sets his empty glass aside, forces a smile when Sofi asks if he wants another round. In the laughter and low music and clink of cutlery, he sits with one more private truth, Heeseung didn't just find the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, he found the one thing that could quiet the noise in him, and now Jay has to live in the glow of that quiet, wanting a warmth that was never lit for him.
The conversation loops back around before Jay even realizes your voice is calling him back into the group.
"Jay," you say, leaning forward in Heeseung's lap to face him, balancing your glass in one hand. "I could actually set you up again, you know?"
He looks up, blinking. "What?"
"You said you were open to dating," you remind him with a tentative little smile, the kind that makes his throat tighten. "I actually have a friend I think you'd get along with. She's really pretty. Your type, I think."
He smiles, but it's hollow. You don't even know my type. He thinks
But yet you look so eager, like you’re so sure you're doing something good and Jay can't bring himself to say anything dismissive. You don't deserve that, not when you're gazing at him like you're trying to puzzle him out with soft eyes and the best intentions.
But something shifts in your expression, almost a frown. "Unless..." You hesitate. "Are you into guys?"
Jay nearly chokes. "What?"
Heeseung bursts out laughing behind you, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to nuzzle your back. "Baby. You're so bad at this."
"I'm not bad at it," you say defensively, cheeks warm as you glare at him. "I just—he's so reserved, and he never brings anyone around, so I didn't want to assume—"
Jay waves a hand, managing a weak chuckle. "No. I'm not into guys."
You nod quickly, still a little embarrassed. "Okay. I just wanted to be sure."
Heeseung grins like he's enjoying every second of this. "Just bring the girl," he says to you, brushing a thumb over your jaw. "Jay can thank us after Sunghoon's promotion party tomorrow. Or tell us she's terrible and traumatized him forever."
You roll your eyes, but your smile returns, softer now. "You'll like her, Jay. She's sweet."
Jay nods but inside, there’s a low burn. You say "sweet" like that's something he wants, like that should be enough.
He wonders if you'd still say that if you knew how hard he’d came unto his own hand, watching the softness bleed out of you under Heeseung's mouth, how many times he hit replay just to catch the moment you gasped and twisted away only for Heeseung to catch you by the thighs.
You call that sweet, you even call that love and now you want to match him with some half baked idea of what you think his heart beats for?
He nods again, mechanically. "Sure. Bring her."
His pasta has gone cold now but he hadn't even noticed when he stopped eating.
The little get together ends the way most do in Heeseung's world, with golden lights, a dozen empty glasses lining the counter, and everyone pretending they aren't tired as they make their way towards the elevator. Jay stands by the door, slipping his shoes on slowly while you hug Sofi goodbye, murmuring something about texting her later. Sunghoon's got a lazy grin on his face, buzzed off the celebration and the compliments still echoing from his promotion.
Jake's halfway into a joke about driving home shirtless when Heeseung waves them all off, already pulling you back by the waist.
"Drive safe," you call after them, still breathless from laughter. Heeseung's mouth is on your neck the moment the door clicks shut. "Seung—wait—"
"You're so pretty when you're drunk," he mumbles, fingers sliding under your shirt, already tugging it up over your stomach. "Come to bed."
"I'm not even tipsy," you laugh, batting at his hands with the dish towel. You move toward the kitchen and he follows like a shadow.
Jay watches all of it while pretending to be checking his phone, jacket slung over one arm, feet rooted by the door longer than necessary. But he sees the way Heeseung backs you into the counter, arms snaking around your waist as you try to stack plates and reach for the sponge. You twist away, scolding him a little, cheeks flushed and mouth parted, while he presses his face into your neck and groans like it physically hurts not to take you to bed right then and there.
"You always do this," you say but your tone is light.
"And you always make it so hard to wait," he replies, unbuttoning your shorts anyway.
Jay leaves just before the shirt comes off or he hears too much, but he hears enough. Enough to know Heeseung got his way, with the faint sound of your laugh following him into the elevator. Something about "Let me finish the dishes first, please," and "You're such a brat when you drink," and Heeseung's dramatic hum echoing through the penthouse like this was the thousandth time he'd won this battle.
Jay stars straight ahead in the elevator mirror, jaw tight, fists clenched in his pockets, trying not to imagine how it ends after, cause he knows exactly how it ends anyway.
He leaves Heeseung's place with a headache blooming at the base of his head and the taste of something bitter sitting on the back of his tongue. The night hadn't even ended badly, everyone had laughed, teased, ate and drank, but something about it left him unsettled. He wants to blame the wine, or maybe the way Heeseung couldn't keep his hands off you, or maybe just himself.
It's past midnight when he gets in his car and the roads are mostly clear, with the city winding down as he begins the slow thirty minute drive back to his parents house.
Halfway across the bridge, his phone buzzes against the middle console, with a message in the group chat from Jake. A four minute long video, Jay taps it open at a red light without thinking.
The camera is a little shaky, propped up against what looks like a bunched up comforter, but it's clear enough—Jake is behind Sofi, fucking her hard enough to rattle the bed frame. Her face is buried in the mattress and held there by his hand, her muffled moans catching on every other breath. One hand grips her waist tight, dragging her back against him with every snap of his hips.
Jay watches for maybe twenty seconds before locking his phone, not because it's uncomfortable. It’s just hollow, empty even. Like he's expecting to feel something close to mild curiosity, but instead, there's nothing. Just static behind his eyes and the thought that maybe Jake's still mad about earlier, about Sofi casually dismissing whatever they were. Just fucking.
But Jay doesn't feel a thing, it’s not like when he watched your video. That had carved something raw and aching in his chest, made it hard for him to breathe.
This?
He tucks his phone down beside him and keeps driving, headlights catching the lines of the road while a new weight settles heavy in his chest. Not even porn from his friend can distract him anymore, especially when it's not you.
The rooftop bar is humming.
Warm lights hang from stringed bulbs like captured fireflies, stretched in rows between potted trees. There's champagne fizzing in every flute and a slow playlist curling around the sound of laughter and congratulations towards Sunghoon. The skyline glimmers behind him like it's clapping for him too.
Jay leans on the far side of the bar, jaw tight around the edge of a glass he hasn't sipped from in a while. His blazer's too warm for the weather, but he doesn't shrug it off. He's scanning the crowd, quietly, the way he always does, looking for you but trying not to.
The girl you tried to set him up with—Raye, is sitting just two stools down, legs crossed and laughing a little too loud at something Jake said. Her dress is bright, electric blue, blinding under the soft fairy lights. And her voice is high, cutting through the music every few seconds, like she doesn't understand the tone of the room should be soft and easy.
Jay stifles a sigh and looks away.
You'd been so excited about it yesterday but now Jay is definitely sure you don’t know him at all or his type. Raye is objectively pretty, sure, but not in the way that pulls something out of him, or in the way you are, with your low voice and thoughtful silences. There's nothing quiet about Raye. Not the way she talks, not the way she dresses, not the way she kept brushing her hand over his arm like they've known each other longer than the hour it's been.
He wonders what that means. What you think of him. That this—this—was your idea of someone he'd want.
Does he come off that simple? That obvious? Or worse, do you see him as someone who'd take whatever's handed to him and be grateful for it?
Heeseung appears with you a moment later, crown of hair tousled from the wind, arm slung casually around your shoulders as you two weave through the crowd toward the bar. He kisses your temple and hands you a drink Jay watched him taste himself before you break away from him and loop toward Raye, cheerfully asking if she's met enough people and if she's enjoying herself; she nods with a smile so wide it feels almost rehearsed, and when you glance toward Jay like you're trying to read his expression, he gives a small, polite nod.
You beam like that means it's going well, and Jay, as always says nothing. watching you break away from Raye just long enough to slide up beside him, your drink in hand, smiling like the evening is going exactly the way you planned.
"She's cute, right?" you ask, nudging your elbow gently into his arm. "What do you think of her?"
Jay glances at you from the corner of his eye, you're standing so close he can smell the faint trace of something sweet on your skin, maybe vanilla or whatever lotion you use that somehow always lingers longer than it needs to.
"She's...pretty," he says, cautious.
Your face lights up immediately. "You should ask her out," you say, already turning your head like you're about to call her back over. "I told you she's your type."
He opens his mouth. "Yeah, but—"
You don't wait, already talking again, a little animated but bright with excitement like this is your crush. "She said she's free next Friday. You should just do it, Jay. She'll love you."
And what's crazy about it is how much he actually wants to do it. Not because he likes Raye, he doesn’t. He doesn’t find her a tad bit appealing or even any of the generic compliments people throw around when they're not sure how to be honest. He wants to do it because you said it.
You, with your hand resting lightly on his arm and your eyes wide, hopeful. You, who he can’t seem to fathom saying the word no to, not when you’re asking him like this with that voice, that tone that sounds like you already believe in him.
It pulls something out of him he doesn't even want to acknowledge, but it’s like a bend in his spine or more like a quiet part of him that perks up whenever you're around, willing to do whatever it takes to stay in your good graces. Whatever you ask.
He wonders fleeting and bitterly if this is how it works on Heeseung too. Is that how you got him to change? All the violence and chaos in that man, soothed down to quiet kisses on your knuckles and a whole penthouse that practically has your name carved into its furniture? You asked and Heeseung listened? Changed?
Jay wonders what he might change for you, if you ever asked. Probably everything.
Jay sips his drink slowly, eyes wandering over your frame as you walk away back to your man, his ears catch onto the laughter that floats up from a group nearby. Raye’s somewhere in that crowd now, bright dress swaying, voice too loud with hands that move too fast. She's laughing at something Sunghoon said. Or maybe Jake. He can't really tell.
His thoughts drift back to you.He wonders, in the quiet space behind his ribcage, what kind of man he might've been if he'd met you first.
Not the jealous friend lingering on the outskirts of a love story that's already been written. Not the guy Heeseung trusted enough to show off your body in a flickering video, moaning his name. Not the second place finisher in a race he didn't even realize he was running.
But maybe someone better, someone you could've seen.
He thinks about the way you speak to people, all calm and soft. Even when Heeseung's being a cocky bastard or when Jake's being a menace, you keep your tone light, your energy collected, and somehow everyone falls in line around you without even realizing it. Your softness doesn't shrink you, instead it centers you and centers the people around you.
Jay imagines you talking him down from a bad day at work, he imagines your hands smoothing over his shoulders, your voice in his ear, quiet and sure, telling him it's okay, that he doesn't have to prove anything to anyone because he's already enough.
He's never had that, not really. He thinks about what it would feel like to want to be better for someone. Not for your praise, but just because being better meant being worthy of someone like you.
You could make him show up on time, make him less angry, less reactive. You'd ask him how his day was and he'd want to answer. You'd press a kiss to his cheek and he'd start looking at real estate listings he can't afford. You'd tell him you're proud of him and he'd believe it, really believe it, maybe for the first time in his life.
He could see it—a different version of himself, in your world.
Jay clenches his jaw and lifts his glass again, this time draining it.
You're back with Heeseung, resting your hand on his chest as he whispers something in your ear. You tilt your head and smile and Jay has to force himself to look away.
He doesn't need you to make eye contact with him right now, he fears you’ll see just how badly he wishes he were someone else.
Heeseung drapes himself around you like he's forgotten there's anyone else on the rooftop. His arm slides around your waist, his nose dips into the curve of your neck, and he presses a lazy kiss just beneath your jaw, possessive.
You're in middle of your sentence about the playlist Sunghoon put together, and you barely get the words out because Heeseung's mouth finds your cheek again, then your temple, then down toward your shoulder, like he doesn't care that you're trying to hold a conversation.
Jay walks over watching you shift, laughing under your breath and trying to swat Heeseung’s hands off without drawing too much attention. "Hee, stop, I'm talking—"
"I missed you," he mumbles, even though you've only been across the rooftop for ten minutes. His voice is sticky with affection and tequila. "Just one shot with me, baby. Come on."
"I already told you no." You smile at him but there's a gentle warning behind it. "I'm driving us home."
Heeseung groans dramatically, head falling back for half a second before he drops another kiss to your shoulder. "Then one for me," he says, reaching for a nearby tray, and that's when Jay steps in.
"I'll take it with you," Jay offers quickly, voice level.
Heeseung perks up, surprised and instantly grinning, like he hadn't even realized Jay was standing there at all. "Bro, now we're talking."
He grabs a second shot glass and slams both on the table beside them. You shake your head, amused but already sliding your arm out from Heeseung's hold to tidy the glasses he's scattered.
Jay takes the shot in one quick throwback, eyes not on the drink, not even on Heeseung, his eyes are on you but yours are on Heeseung, watching him with affection even when you're exasperated by him. Even when he's being clingy and tipsy and pulling you into his chest again like he can't stand to be without you for five fucking minutes.
Jay places the empty glass back on the table and clears his throat. The vodka burns on the way down, but it’s not half as bad as watching Heeseung press his lips to yours and mumble something against them that makes you bite your lip to stifle a laugh.
Jay can’t continue to stand this, maybe that’s why one shot turns into two. Then three. Then four.
Jay doesn't even realize how deep he's in until the sixth one is already sliding down his throat and Heeseung's laughing too loud, arm thrown around his shoulder like they're still eighteen and crashing people’s dorm parties. His breath smells like lime and tequila, and his words are starting to slur at the edges.
You stepped away toward the bar seven minutes ago, Jay’s drunk mind counted, you’re talking to Sunghoon's colleague about something he can’t make out but your voice lilting in laughter, eyes squinting in that way Jay has come to recognize when you're actually enjoying yourself.
Heeseung leans in, nudging Jay. "She's fucking gorgeous, isn't she?" His voice is hoarse now, tipsy and a little too honest. "I tell her every day. Think it annoys her."
Jay forces a smile, focusing hard on a water glass he doesn't remember grabbing. "Doesn't seem like she minds."
"She doesn't," Heeseung hums. "She likes it. She likes everything I do."
Jay takes another sip of water, but it doesn't help. His mind is fogged over, his skin a little too warm, his chest twisting cause he’s never seen Heeseung like this before you. Drunk or not, there's this tenderness that surrounds him now, so casually, like affection is second nature instead of something he has to be taught.
And Jay doesn't know if it's the alcohol or the months of watching the two of you, but something very bitter starts to rise in his chest. It's hard not to feel like he's living in the space between your smiles, waiting for scraps of attention. Watching Heeseung kiss you like he's starved, watching you take care of him like he's the only man in the room.
Heeseung taps the rim of his empty shot glass against Jay's with a lazy grin. "We should double date again. That thing we did last month? Remember?"
That was barely a double date, Jay remembers.
He also remembers how he got stuck entertaining the girl you'd set him up with while you and Heeseung spent half the night sneaking off to kiss in corners like you'd just met. He remembers how she wouldn't stop talking about her followers and her nail tech, and how all he could think about was how you were friends with someone like this.
Heeseung slaps his back, harder than necessary. "Don't look so tense. You need to get laid, man."
Jay scoffs lightly. "Working on it."
Heeseung leans in close again, mouth near Jay's ear now, eyes still on you across the bar. "Not like that. I mean laid the right way. The kind that fucks you up a little. The kind that makes you soft."
Jay swallows hard, gaze trailing after you despite himself.
The way you're standing now, you’re tilted a bit forward in those heels and that soft silky dress hugging your waist—Jay wonders what it must be like to be touched by you when you mean it. When it's not through a screen, or behind closed doors, or in a video he's watched more times than he'll ever admit.
The party starts to thin out.
It happens slowly, like the fizz dying from a glass of soda. The rooftop's breeze turns a little cooler. And still, Jay drinks.
His drink is sweating in his hand, and he's not even sure what's in it anymore. Tequila again? Something with citrus. Maybe gin, it doesn't matter. Heeseung's disappeared into some group of Sunghoon’s coworkers now, he’s shoulder to shoulder with Sunghoon now.
Jay watches him laugh too big, gesture too wide, nearly spill his drink all over someone's shoes and Jay finds himself smiling, because even now, Heeseung is so effortlessly charming. Even wasted.
But Jay doesn't feel like himself tonight and he hasn’t since the fourth shot.
Not since he caught himself staring at your necklace—at the way the little diamond settled right between your collarbones, gleaming soft and subtle like it belonged there. Not since you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked if he liked Yeseo. Not since he called her pretty, and you lit up like he'd just made your night.
Now you're standing alone by the railing, arms crossed against the chill, your phone lighting up in your hand. You tilt your head and glance back at the rooftop like you're looking for someone. Probably Heeseung.
Jay finishes what's left in his glass and sets it down too hard on the nearest table.
He doesn't ever do this, drink this much, or linger past the point of politeness, fantasizing about people he's not supposed to.
But tonight he feels too off, as if some switch has been flipped and there's no one sober inside him to turn it back.
He stays seated, but his eyes are on you again. You're looking at your phone again, replying to a text with your lip caught between your teeth. Then you smile and walk across the rooftop to Heeseung, who’s sat at another table now and looking too sober considering he’s drank more than Jay, probably even more.
Heeseung, as usual, pulls you into his lap. Your thighs go snug against his, arms draped over his shoulders, and Heeseung's got one arm cinched tight around your waist, the other vanishing slowly beneath the hem of your dress.
Jay looks away, or at least he tries to, he really does.
But it's like watching something too obscene and too beautiful to turn from. Like a painting you don't fully understand but know you're not supposed to stare at this long.
You giggle softly, almost trying to stifle it. And that sound is what does it. It's light, airy, a little shaky, and Jay recognizes it for what it is.
You're moaning.
And whatever Heeseung is doing under that dress that's making you squirm in the tiniest, most devastating ways is causing it.
Jay pours more of whatever is in the abandoned bottle on the table into his cup and swallows without even tasting it.
If he weren't drunk, he'd probably be embarrassed for still watching out of the corner of his eye as Heeseung mouths at your jaw and you whisper something into his ear. If he weren't drunk, he'd probably get up and walk to the bathroom or anywhere that didn't have this view in front of him.
But he is drunk, too deep into it now, getting stupid and slipping. Jake and Sunghoon joins his table and make fun of him a little, he laughs too loud at something no one said, knocks over an empty glass and leans in too close to Sunghoon next to him and mumbles something with no direction. Sloppy and entire out of character.
His face is flushed, throat hot, and his head's somewhere it shouldn't be. Somewhere between your sighs, and the soft movement of Heeseung's fingers, and the way your eyes flutter shut like you're trying to stay present but can't.
Jay takes another drink, convincing himself he’s not jealous, that he’s just tired and that when he wakes up tomorrow, he won't remember any of this.
He tells himself it's not anything cause he's just looking at the skyline, at the empty glasses on the table, at the soft gleam of the rooftop lights reflected in your jewelry. But his eyes keep dragging back to you, back to where you're squirming so slightly in Heeseung's lap that no one else seems to notice, and if they do notice they don’t seem to care.
Except him, maybe he even care too much. He wants to look somewhere else but that’s when he sees the change in your posture, you spine arches straighter and your body stiffens, you’re trembling a little, seeming like you’re holding onto something too big for your frame. Like maybe it could split you in half.
Jay blinks but watches how hard you bite your lip anyway.
Your fingers curl against Heeseung's shoulder, your chest lifts and then your eyes meet Heeseung's—wide and dazed. You look at him like he's just taken you apart, and Heeseung just smirks, relaxed and proud, as if this was inevitable.
Jay nearly spits out his drink. You literally cumming right there, silently with your teeth digging into the plush of your bottom lip, trembling just enough that Jay knows that Heeseung is really good at what he’s doing to you beneath the fabric of your dress. He clearly knows your body well if he can have you cumming like this within five minutes?
Jay looks around the table. Jake's leaned in too close to Sofi, saying something that makes her giggle. Jay hadn’t even noticed her all night, Sunghoon is halfway into another drink and the world is oblivious to watch just happened.
He watches Heeseung pull his fingers from under your dress, so slow and unhurried, you’d think he wasn’t on a rooftop with other people. He brings his fingers to his mouth, and Jay can see them glistening with your cum, he watches Heeseung lick them clean like a dessert plate, his eyes still locked on you.
And you just watch him, with your pupils blown, your skin flushed and your lips parted like you forgot how to breathe.
Jay looks away when his face finally starts to burn, something like nausea turns over in his gut. His pants feel too tight, and it's not just guilt—it's shame. Because whatever kind of man would sit here, drunk out of his mind, quietly watching his best friend finger his fiancee is not the kind of man he wants to be.
But God help him, if he could trade places with Heeseung? He would do it in a heartbeat.
Jay’s legs move him to stand up without his brain even agreeing, one second he's sitting there, flushed and fucked up over the sight of Heeseung's fingers slipping out from under your dress, and the next he's halfway to the bar slurring nonsense, and loudly offering a toast to something, to Sunghoon, to friendship, to your perfect tits maybe, he doesn't know.
It's like something snapped loose in him and then Jake starts laughing at him with Jay’s phone angled in his direction cause he's filming the whole thing. Jay doesn't care, he even poses and lifts his shirt, Jake jokes something about Jay finally letting loose, and Jay leans into it, tipsy and flushed, and he swears he can hear you laugh at him but he’s too far gone.
Sunghoon joins in, he usually wouldn’t but tonight he’s tossing out dry one liners and calling Jay a lightweight. He even fake narrates like he's a documentary host, "And here we see a rare, endangered Park Jongseong in his natural state—absolutely fucking wasted."
They all laugh, Jay laughs too and he’s not even sure why.
And then Jake says, "Yo—what's your password? I wanna airdrop this masterpiece to myself."
Jay blinks, sways a little on his feet, and like a complete fucking idiot mumbles the actual numbers of the passcode he never tells anyone.
Jake freezes. Then laughs again, louder this time. "No way you actually said it."
Jay grins, unaware, barely even conscious. His brain is sloshing in his skull, heart pounding like it's trying to beat out all the shame, the confusion, the whatever the fuck has been brewing in his chest since he saw that video.
The last thing he can make out is slumping onto the nearest chair, and Sunghoon's voice going quiet. Dead quiet.
And then Jake, too. Their laughter dies down all at once, like someone pressed the mute button on the show. Jay opens his eyes, just barely. The lights above blur into orbs. Shapes move in front of him—his phone, still in Jake's hand. Their faces, drawn now and no longer amused.
Sunghoon says something sharp. "What the fuck."
Jay barely even registers it.
The weight of the night finally crashes over him like a wave, and then…darkness.
Waking up to the dull thrum of sunlight coming in through the tall windows of Heeseung's penthouse should feel amazing, like it always does every other day. But today it's not cause there's a certain heaviness in your chest that keeps you from curling closer like you usually do. Most mornings, you wake up tangled in Heeseung's limbs, safe under the weight of his arm draped around your waist, the heat of his breath behind your ear, the softness in his voice when he tells you good morning. Usually, it's the best part of your day.
Today, you open your eyes and immediately feel the silence, the kind of stillness that doesn't feel peaceful, only quiet in a way that makes your skin prickle.
Heeseung is already awake.
You shift slightly, trying not to make it obvious that you're watching him. His eyes are open, fixed on the ceiling, brow furrowed. He's still holding you, but it's distant, almost automatic. His fingers don't trace your hip like they normally would. His chest doesn't rise with the same slow, steady rhythm. His jaw is tight.
You whisper his name softly, a gentle test and when he doesn't answer, your heart sinks a little more.
You can't say you don't know what's wrong with him right now cause you saw it happen in real time last night, you'd felt it, like the whole world tilted.
One moment you were laughing, snuggled into Heeseung's lap, watching Jake and Sunghoon record a messily drunk Jay for fun. You'd leaned back into Heeseung's shoulder, cheeks warm from wine and his attention, feeling light.
And then the air changed.
Jake had Jay's phone in his hand, just teasing at first, but then his laughter fell away. Sunghoon leaned over his shoulder and their grins faded. And you felt the tension tighten like a wire being pulled between them.
You didn't immediately know what was going on but when Sunghoon turned Jay's phone screen toward Heeseung and you felt his entire body go rigid beneath you. You felt the way his hand dropped from your thigh and the way the light in his eyes disappeared, replaced by something hollow and sharp.
You heard your gasp and moan come through the speaker of the phone and your eyes widened in shock, the video Heeseung had filmed of you and him was playing from Jay's phone, and it wasn't playing from the group chat, but from Jay's camera roll.
The video where you were spread out in your shared bed, moaning and whimpering from Heeseung's tongue. But it was favorited on Jay's phone.
Favorited.
You swallow, throat dry as you stare at the man you love lying beside you. You'd never seen his eyes go that cold or felt fear sitting in his lap before last night.
And even now, as the light of day fills the room, you're still scared. Not of what Heeseung will do—he's never laid a hand on you. But of what this means. What it did to him. What it's doing right now, as he lies there next to you, lost in the fallout.
You reach for him gently, fingers brushing his chest. His skin is warm under your touch, but he doesn't move or speak. The silence is the worst part.
Because if you're right, if what you saw last night was real, then Jay didn't just cross a boundary. He broke something sacred.
And Heeseung hasn't said a single word since.
You shift closer to him, your body curling around his like instinct, but it doesn't feel easy this time, it feels like pushing against a door that's slowly closing.
"Heeseung," you whisper again, your voice small in the stillness.
His eyes flick down to you this time, and you nearly wish they hadn't. There's so much in them—hurt, rage and worst of all disappointment...or shame? He looks like he's trying to swallow something jagged and it's catching on the way down.
You sit up on your elbow, searching his face for something to hold onto, maybe a ticker of softness or a sign he's still with you, but he just looks away and stares at the ceiling again.
So you try.
You kiss his chest once, twice, right over the spot where his heart beats slow and heavy. Then up his collarbone, his neck, his cheekbone. And finally, his forehead. He doesn't push you away, but he doesn't pull you in either.
"Please," you murmur, brushing your fingers against the side of his face. "Baby...talk to me."
It takes a moment, but then he quietly speaks finally.
"I love you," he says, voice hoarse. "Do you know that?"
You nod, immediately. "I know."
But the words don't comfort you the way they should. Instead, they coil around your chest like something tightening. Because you do know. You know how Heeseung loves you—with everything, in ways he never loved anything before. You've seen how it transformed him.
And still...last night.
The memory rushes in too fast and too sharp. Jay's drunk oblivious face before he passed out. Jake and Sunghoon's faces when they saw the video saved and favorited.
You should've felt violated. You should've felt angry. But you didn't.
Your breathing labors because you can't lie to yourself—not now. Not when you can still feel the aftershocks in your body, that heat simmering low in your stomach even as guilt claws at your ribs.
Because what you felt last night wasn't just shame or horror, it was arousal.
Your panties had already been damp from Heeseung fingering you in his lap. But when you realized what Jay had done, that he'd kept the video, it made you ache. Not for Jay, not even close, but for the knowledge that someone else wanted to watch you like that. See you fall apart the way only Heeseung ever has.
It's sick, it's wrong even but it's so real.
Your voice is shaky when you answer him again, softer this time, like the words might shatter on your tongue.
"I know you love me."
Heeseung finally looks at you fully now, like he's trying to read something in your expression—something true. But if he sees the guilt there, the heat behind your shame, he doesn't say it. He just stares for a long moment.
And then he asks, so quietly it nearly breaks you, "Why the fuck would he save that?"
Heeseung doesn't wait a minute for your answer, not that you even had one, he just stands abruptly, as if something inside him has snapped from stillness into momentum. One second he's lying beside you, and the next he's shirtless, barefoot, and halfway across the room, muscles tense beneath golden morning light, fury humming beneath his skin.
Your heart drops into your stomach. "Heeseung—wait," you say, scrambling off the bed, but he's already at the bedroom door.
"Wait—are you going to talk to him now?" you ask, grabbing your phone off the nightstand, hoping and praying your voice alone might ground him.
He turns to look at you, and the look in his eyes is like nothing you've seen before. It's just cold and controlled rage.
"He’s downstairs, right?" he asks.
You nod, hesitantly. "In the guest room. He passed out, and...Jake and Sunghoon brought him back here."
"Yeah." His jaw clenches. "Well, he's fucking awake now."
And he turns without waiting for another word from you. You feel your breath catch with panic rising so swiftly that it almost cuts off the air in your lungs.
This is not good.
You throw on your robe and tie it in a rush, the sash slipping through your trembling fingers. You're barely able to keep up as you trail behind him, your feet padding across the cool floors of the penthouse, phone still clutched in your hand as the time on the lock screen registers—12:08 PM.
You'd slept in but now you're all about to wake up to hell.
"Heeseung, baby—please slow down," you plead, trying to catch him as he storms down the stairs toward the lower level. "Just talk to me first. Please. I know you're angry, I am too, but you can't just—"
Your words are cut off by the sound of the elevator ding, you barely have time to glance toward the front door before it opens and Jake and Sunghoon step into the foyer, both looking like they haven't slept at all.
They see Heeseung first and they immediately go tense.
Sunghoon looks at you, then down the stairs, eyes widening when he realizes where Heeseung's headed.
"We just came to check if everything was okay."
"God—I knew leaving him here was a bad idea." Jake groans.
You can feel the slow dangerous shift in the air now, it seems everything that was held back last night is unraveling now. The tape. The favorites folder. The betrayal. The line that got crossed.
And Jay that's still unconscious in the guest room is about to wake up to the consequences.
You grip the railing, voice soft and urgent, aimed at your fiancé. "Heeseung. Please. Don't do something you'll regret."
But Heeseung doesn't slow down, he keeps walking and all you can do is follow him.
The door swings open so hard it slams into the wall behind it. You flinch, heart jumping into your throat, but Heeseung doesn't even blink, neither does he barge in or yell.
He stands in the open doorway of the guest bedroom, jaw tight, voice deceptively calm as he says, "Jay. Come out here for a sec."
The room is stifling. Jake exhales beside you, Sunghoon rubs his jaw and your stomach is in knots.
There's a shuffle of movement from inside the room, a rustle of blankets, a groggy groan before Jay appears. His hair is disheveled, his face is lace and puffy and he's still wearing his clothes from last night. He squints at the light in the hallway like it's trying to kill him, one hand pressed to his temple.
"Fuck," he mumbles, dragging his feet. "Did I black out?"
He sees all of you standing there with Heeseung at the front like a wall, the rest of you silent just behind him, and he gives a confused little laugh. "Why are you all staring at me like that?"
Jake looks down frowning while Sunghoon crosses his arms.
"I feel like shit," Jay mutters, scratching the back of his neck. "I was gonna head home and shower, but—"
He glances at you and smiles faintly. "Morning. You have any Advil or somethi—"
"Is there anything," Heeseung cuts in sharply, low and deliberate, "you want to tell me?"
Jay blinks. "What?"
Heeseung doesn't move, but his voice comes tighter now as he repeats himself, "Anything. You want to tell me."
Jay scoffs lightly, chuckling like it's a joke. "Bro, I'm too hungover for this—"
"I'm so fucking close to beating the shit out of you right now."
His voice isn't even loud but it hits like a punch to the gut, and the sound of it chills the whole penthouse.
Jay stiffens. "Wait—what? What's going on?"
Jake's voice breaks through, fed up and sharp. "Dude. Why'd you save the video?"
Jay blinks and opens his mouth to speak but Jake keeps going. "The video of them. Him and y/n. You saved it. Favorited it. On your phone."
Sunghoon groans under his breath, his face twisted in disbelief, like he still can't believe what he saw. "Favoriting it?" he asks, shaking his head. "Come on, Jay. You know that's not allowed. We don't save shit. That's—"
"That's my fucking fiancée," Heeseung seethes.
Jay's already going pale, confusion draining to horror as the pieces slot into place. His lips part again, but nothing comes out.
You can see the exact moment he remembers. The fog of last night lifts and the memory of Jake asking for his password and him drunkenly answering sharpens.
Heeseung steps forward. "You wanna tell me if you've done this before?" he says, voice dark. "Or is this the first time you've saved a video of my girl like some fucking pervert?"
Jay can't seem to form words, and for a beat, no one even breathes.
This isn't a joke or something they can just laugh off like a hangover conversation—this is real.
You step in front of Heeseung, heart hammering, trying to diffuse the pressure in the air before it combusts. "Jake, Sunghoon—" your voice is soft but urgent, "can you give us a minute?"
Jake hesitates, his jaw clenched like he doesn't trust leaving you here with this heat in the air. But you give him a pleading look, and Sunghoon touches his arm and nods once.
They both glance back as they leave—Jake's frown is tight and Sunghoon is visibly reluctant, but the door shuts behind them anyway, and now it's just the three of you.
Jay looks like a ghost.
You step in further between them, hands raised a little like you're afraid to touch either of them. Your voice trembles slightly. "Jay, just...just apologize."
Heeseung's scoffs behind you.
Your eyes look to him instinctively, and when they meet his—your stomach drops, cause there's no anger there anymore, but there is betrayal.
"An apology?" he repeats slowly, almost mocking. "You think that's gonna fix this?"
Your throat goes dry and you don't know what to say.
Jay finally speaks, voice barely there. "Heeseung...I didn't—I don't know why I—it wasn't supposed to be like that, I swear—"
But Heeseung is shaking his head. "You saved it," he says, his voice colder than you've ever heard. "You saved it. You kept it. You fucking favorited it."
"Heeseung—"
"I would never do that to you," he growls at Jay. "Never. You understand me? Even at my worst, I would never cross that fucking line with someone you love."
Jay looks so close to tears with the look on his face.
You're trembling so hard. "Please, Hee..."
He doesn't even look at you, his entire body is tense with fury, and there's no softness in his face at all. Not even for you.
Because this isn't just about what Jay did. It's about what Heeseung saw in your face last night, the panic, the guilt and the thing he won't say out loud yet—the flash of something else in your eyes when you saw that video.
Something that didn't look to Heeseung like rage at all and that's the part you're terrified he's already figured out.
You swallow, lips trembling as your gaze darts between them, Jay is frozen in shame, Heeseung is shaking in silent fury.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, so quietly you barely hear yourself. "I'm so, so sorry."
Heeseung's head turns toward you like he can't believe what he's hearing.
You step closer, hand reaching for his, "I di—didn't mean to feel that way—It wasn't anything, Hee. I promise."
He pulls away from your touch, voice full of anger, but not for you. "Can you see what you're doing right now?"
You blink, completely stunned, but he's already turning to Jay, his words are still aimed through him, about him. "She's apologizing. You see that? She's the one with her stomach in knots, and you're standing there like you don't even know what the fuck you did."
Jay opens his mouth to speak, but Heeseung doesn't let him. "I don't even know what I'm mad about anymore," he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't know if I'm more pissed that you saved it or that I can't stop thinking about why you did."
His eyes snap to Jay's, all fierce, sharp and devastating. "Was it just because it was her? Or because it was us? What was it that got you off, huh? The way she sounded, the way I touched her, the way she looked up at me like she'd die if I stopped?"
You flinch at his words and Jay goes even paler. Heeseung's voice breaks a little when he says, "You don't get to have that, man. You don't get to want what's mine. And she—" he finally looks at you, his eyes bloodshot and his voice wrecked—"she doesn't get to feel anything other than violated when she finds out you fucking kept that shit."
Silence should flood the room but it's not silence at all. It's your heartbeat thudding in your ears, the tremble in your breath and the sound of Heeseung's restraint cracking one sharp second at a time.
You're sure he knows now, he saw it in your eyes and he felt the signs of that sick thrill of heat curl in your belly when you saw Jay's phone from your skin alone.
Heeseung looks at Jay for a long, unbearable second, with no rage in his face now, just something quieter but still dangerous.
Then, his voice comes low and controlled. "Do you want to fuck her?"
The question lands like a grenade at all your feet, and you feel the breath catch in your throat, heart slamming into your ribcage. Heeseung doesn't even look at you as he asks it. His eyes are stuck on Jay, waiting, and Jay looks like he’s about to faint, his face goes red from his neck to his ears, but still in the most deafening silence, he says the truth.
"Yes."
You nearly faint at his confession, watching how Heeseung doesn't even flinch or react at all, almost like he expected it. Jay looks like he just threw himself off a cliff, cause he knows there's no coming back from this, there’s no version of this moment that won't haunt him forever.
Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slow, as if trying to cool something down inside himself that has no name.
He looks at you and your stomach drops, because the look in his eyes might be stoic but there’s something else swirling beneath the surface. Something darker and not entirely...offended.
You move to him carefully, shaking. "Heeseung," you whisper, your voice pleading. "I didn't know—"
But he cuts you off too softly for the moment. "Don't lie to me, baby."
Your lips part to argue, but the guilt is already clouding your eyes. Heeseung tilts his head, watching you closely now, as if he's studying you for the first time.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks. "That it turned you on."
You gasp quietly, because there's not even a trace of judgment or disgust in his voice, it’s just curiosity.
"I—I didn't mean for it to," you say, and your voice breaks. "It just happened."
Jay is still frozen behind you both, but Heeseung's attention has completely shifted. His fists aren’t clenched, his jaw isn’t locked—and yet what he's not fighting isn't violence.
It's want.
He should be furious. He is. He's never been this furious. But somehow, buried under all that rage, there’s something more unhinged.
He steps closer to you until you’re looking up at him. "Do you even realize what you do to people?" he asks. "To me? I should want to beat his fucking face in. But right now...all I can think about is how fucking sexy you looked biting your lip in my lap while you watched yourself on his screen."
Your eyes widen.
"And seeing that shame in your eyes just now?" he breathes. "That made it worse. So much worse."
His hand comes up, wraps around your throat and you instinctively hold onto it with both your hands. “Seung…please.”
"You are mine," he says, eyes burning. "And the fact that someone else wants you like that should make me crazy. It does. But the fact that you liked it?"
He pauses.
"It's doing something to me I can't explain."
Your whole body is trembling from the heat of the situation at hand.
Heeseung turns you gently in his arms, until you're facing Jay again—who's still standing there like he's been struck by lightning, eyes wide, lips parted, completely frozen in place.
Your robe loosens cause Heeseung's fingers find the sash.
"Watch this," he says to Jay, low and dangerous and electric, his breath curling against your ear. "Since you like watching her so much."
The silk slips through the loop and your robe parts.
Your skin under your silk camisole and shorts is laid bare in the soft light of the penthouse morning, and you see Jay's eyes drag down before he can stop himself. You should be covering up, maybe even screaming at Heeseung but all you can do is shiver.
He’s pulling you against his bare chest, mouth pressing hot to your neck, tongue sliding just beneath your jaw.
"The live show's better," he breathes, and it's unclear who he's saying it for. You or Jay.
His hands are on your waist, caressing up, cupping your breasts under your camisole while you choke back a sound in your throat, heat burning through you like a fever, because Jay is watching and because Heeseung wants him to watch.
Because something in you wants it too. Your eyes lock with Jay's across the room and he looks wrecked.
Shame, arousal, devastation. It's all there, etched in his face like he's been cut open. He's breathing hard, but not moving.
And all the while, Heeseung's voice is in your ear, and his fingers make their way into your shorts and between your legs.
"Oh? You feel that, baby? You feel how wet you are right now? All from the way he's looking at you."
He kisses the side of your neck again, tongue flicking against your pulse, and your knees nearly give out.
"Wanna let him see what isn’t his?"
Heeseung hums, low in his throat like he already knows the answer. His hand dips lower, fingers parting your folds—slick and aching and shamefully eager under his touch. You whimper, body shaking in his grip, and his lips curve into a dark, knowing smile against your neck.
"Tell me, baby," he murmurs, slow and deliberate. "You want Jay to find out how tight your pussy really is?"
The question cracks like thunder in the silence of the room, it makes Jay flinch.
And you should deny it. You should be horrified, you should be pushing Heeseung away and running. But instead, your lashes flutter, breath stuttering, and the softest, most dangerous word slips from your mouth like it's been dying to be heard.
"...yes."
Jay sways where he stands. It's like he’s about to pass out again, his knees are about to give out. His eyes are wide and unblinking, lips parted, chest rising and falling erratically—completely overtaken by the sound of your voice, by what you just admitted with Heeseung's fingers still pressed between your thighs.
Heeseung chuckles darkly against your neck, dragging his tongue over your skin, clearly delighting in your answer—and Jay's reaction.
"Mm. Thought so." He squeezes your waist, one finger dipping into your entrance. "You wanna show him? Huh, baby? You want him to see how much of a slut I’ve turn you into?"
Jay makes a small, broken sound.
And you can't speak now. You can only nod—shaking, needy, impossibly wet and already grinding down into Heeseung’s fingers.
For some time, the only sound in the room is your whimpering. But then you feel Heeseung pull his finger out of you and his hand retreat, you don’t even have a minute to whine because the next to you know you land on your knees with a soft, broken whimper cause Heeseung pushed you. There’s more relief than shame in the way your thighs are still trembling from Heeseung's touch.
Your knees hitting the ground doesn’t shock you as much as when you lift your eyes, wide and glossy, and find yourself face to face with Jay’s bulge—the evidence of just how much he wants you too.
Jay's chest rises, then halts. His fists clench at his sides like he doesn't know whether to run or fall to his knees in front of you. His eyes are blown wide with disbelief, but it's not Heeseung's actions that makes his throat tighten—it's you.
It's the way you look at him like you're not even embarrassed or confused. You’re looking at him like you want to be on your knees for him, like you might’ve done this even without Heeseung behind you, his palm now resting gently on the crown of your head.
"She wants this," Heeseung says quietly, his voice curling into Jay's ears. "Go on, baby. Show him what I’ve taught you."
The most shattering part for Jay is seeing you smile at Heeseung’s words, it’s not wide or arrogant—it’s your usual soft smile, maybe a little nervous this time but it’s eager in a way that makes Jay feel like he’s drowning.
He wants to speak and finally say something but he can’t even conjure up thoughts now, not when your hands come up to his waistband and your fingers brush his skin a little, you even look up at him as if you’re asking for permission even though Heeseung’s already given it, you’re asking Jay for his.
And curse every lingering feeling of morality that wants him to tell you to stand up. He gives a nod so slight he barely knows he's done it.
You exhale a little, your fingers moving deftly, tugging open the button and zipper, and Jay is hard—so violently hard it's obscene. He swears under his breath, nearly buckling when your hand brushes him through the fabric, when your lips part just slightly and Heeseung whispers, "That's it, angel. Make him lose his fucking mind."
Jay doesn't know if this is real or if he's in a dream or a sin or some impossible in between, but he knows one thing for sure, right now—he’s entirely yours.
Your fingers curl around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down, eyes locked on yours like he can't believe what's happening. Then his cock springs free, heavy and hard in your hand, and you blink—stunned. You don't even mean to gasp, it just slips out.
Jay looks like he might collapse.
You glance up at him, wide eyed, and then over your shoulder—Heeseung is watching, gaze dark, mouth curved into something between smug and possessive.
"Big, right?" he asks, taking a few steps away from you and Jay.
You nod slowly, almost dazed. "Yeah..."
Jay nearly whimpers.
Heeseung hums, but then his voice lowers. "Bigger than me?"
You hesitate because you already know what he wants to hear, but you turn your head just enough to meet his eyes. "No."
Jay makes a choked sound behind his teeth—half disbelief, half arousal, like that one word ruined him.
Heeseung smirks, so satisfied. "Didn't think so."
It’s insane how the tension only builds from there—with your fingers around Jay’s cock and the air heavy with everything unspoken.
Jay is trembling now, ever so slightly.
He looks like he wants to say please, if only he could just remember how to speak.
You never really thought much about Jay in that way.
He was always sort of...quiet? Reserved. The sarcastic, dry humored one with the disapproving glances and button downs that fit just right. Someone who felt like a background character in the chaos of your life with Heeseung, always present, but never quite there.
He wasn't soft, just silent. Observing more than acting. Watching instead of wanting.
You honestly assumed he was a little prudish. Uptight, maybe, but sweet in that careful, boring way. And you never imagined that beneath all that stoic calm and barely there expressions, he was hiding a cock this girthy.
You look down at him again and it’s a lot, he can barely fit in your palm, just like Heeseung.
You don't realize how tight you're holding Jay until he jerks slightly in your grip, like he's feeling every thought running through your head—every ounce of disbelief and intrigue and reluctant arousal.
This time when you look up at him, it's not pity or shock or guilt in your expression.
It's hunger.
Hunger that bleeds through you as you take him into your mouth, wetting it with your saliva, giving little kitten licks over his tip that make him lose his balance.
He moans out from the back of his throat when you blindly reach for his hand and place it on the back of your head.
"Oh yeah, she likes that. She's telling you to fuck her face." Heeseung says out. Jay's eyes snap to him where he's now sat on the plush couch, the look on Jay's face is one of utter disbelief and it has Heeseung rolling his eyes and reiterating. "Fuck her face, Jay. She asked so nicely."
Jay doesn't know when his hips start moving, he thrusts them forward and feels himself glide into your throat. And when you don't even gag? You just wrap your fingers around his balls and squeeze? Jay loses his mind, grabbing your head with both his hands and thrusting more erratically into your mouth and throat.
"There you go." He hears Heeseung's encouragement but he can barely register it.
"Oh!—Jesus!" "Fuck! She doesn't gag?"
"Nope," the pride in Heeseung's voice doesn't go unheard by Jay.
You push back at his hips a little and he pulls out of your mouth, almost like he thinks you're pushing him off but you pump him with both hands, drooling down your chin already. "You can go rougher, Jay." You mumble, not even giving him a chance to respond before taking his cock into your throat again and grabbing his waist to force him deeper into your mouth.
Jay really does try to be gentle, really tries to not just use you, but your voice telling him to go rougher clouds all thoughts. He grips the back of your head with both hands and thrusts into your mouth, increasing the speed and relishing in the choked sounds you make for him.
"God—Sh—Shit." "You're gonna make me cum." He moans out, screwing his eyes shut.
"Isn't that the whole point?" Heeseung asks from behind him, "Or...you wanna cum...somewhere else?"
Jay's eyes roll back at Heeseung's words—the thought of cumming inside you makes him shudder. "N—No! Wait! St—Stop."
You pull off him dazed and a little confused, you look back at Heeseung with a little pout that makes him chuckle and look to Jay, "Why'd you stop her? She was having fun."
"I was having fun." You look up at him.
Jay swallows hard, trying to catch his breath, his hands are hovering uselessly at his sides. "I just...I didn't want to cross a boundary," he mutters so unsure. His eyes flick between you and Heeseung, filled with hesitation and tension humming in his chest.
From the couch behind you, Heeseung lets out an amused laugh. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see him lounging back, one arm stretched across the top of the cushions, legs spread.
"A boundary?" His eyes sparkle with something between mockery and thrill. "Jay, you crossed a boundary the second you looked me dead in the eye and said you wanted to fuck her."
Jay flinches, mouth parting like he's about to deny it but he doesn't.
Heeseung's grin widens, and he tips his chin at you, his fingers crooking in a lazy beckon. "Come here, baby."
Your pulse skips as you stand slowly, the hem of your open robe brushing your thighs. Jay's eyes follow you as you turn to face Heeseung, stepping lightly across the room.
Jay watches, rooted in place.
The robe slips off your shoulders and pools silently to the floor. You hear Jay's breath hitch, sharp and involuntary. His eyes are fixed on every bare inch of you and he looks stunned, hands hanging at his sides.
"Fuck," he whispers, barely audible.
Heeseung hums approvingly behind you, his hands finding your hips and tugging you down gently into his lap. You straddle him, back to his chest, and his palms slide up your sides, possessive and slow.
His hands slide over your bare skin under your camisole as he lifts it off you, fingertips ghosting over your breasts before settling on your waist. His lips graze your ear, voice low and rough with amusement.
"Come have her, Jay."
Jay's jaw tightens, the hesitation in his eyes quickly giving way to something hungrier. You watch as he steps forward, his breath is shallow and his gaze fixed on where Heeseung's hands are now slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts.
Heeseung hooks his thumbs under the fabric, eyes never leaving Jay's face as he slowly drags them down your legs.
Jay drops to his knees, helping Heeseung peel the shorts off completely, his fingertips brushing your calves as he pulls them free. His touch lingers for a moment, almost reverent, then he looks up at you with a flushed face and his eyes heavy with need.
"Lay back, baby," Heeseung orders, guiding you with firm hands. "Head in my lap."
You obey without question, shifting onto the couch as Heeseung leans back, welcoming you into his hold. Your head settles in his lap, his hand immediately stroking your hair, fingers combing through gently. The contrast of his soothing touch and Jay's hungry stare makes your breath catch.
Jay's eyes trail over your body like he's never seen anything so perfect. Heeseung chuckles lowly, running a thumb along your cheekbone.
"Don't keep her waiting."
Jay leans forward slowly, palms braced on either side of your hips. You can feel the heat radiating off him, you can even feel how tightly wound he is. His hands finally touch you, they're tentative at first, then they get firmer and bolder as his lips part and his eyes flick up to meet yours.
"You sure?" he asks, voice hoarse.
You try to smile up at him, nodding. "Y—Yeah."
And you guess that's all it takes cause Jay immediately lowers himself between your legs, and Heeseung's hand never leaves your hair, holding you gently in place as Jay finally has you.
Jay settles himself between your thighs slowly, almost like he doesn't believe this is real. His hands slide under your knees, pushing your legs apart gently. The moment his mouth meets your warm it's hot and wet and he groans like he's already lost control.
"Shit—" he breathes, pulling back just slightly, his eyes wide and almost dazed. "She tastes...God."
You gasp when his mouth returns, tongue licking a stripe up your pussy folds, then circling your clit. Your hips twitch, back arching off the couch, and Heeseung chuckles from above, fingers still stroking your hair.
"She's a runner," he says fondly, his free hand resting on your stomach to try to keep you still. "Always tries to squirm away when it gets too good."
But it's not like Jay was going to let you go anywhere. He grips your thighs hard, pressing them apart and locking them in place with surprising strength. His becomes near frantic, tongue dragging over every sensitive spot until you're crying out, trying to push at his shoulders, but it's useless.
"Jay—wait—too much—"
He just groans into you, tongue flicking faster against your clit, and you cry out again, pressing your head back against Heeseung's thigh, your hand clutching at his shirt as you moan, "Heeseung—!"
Heeseung raises an eyebrow, laughing in disbelief. "Rude," he says, tugging gently on your hair to tilt your head back so you're looking up at him. "You're gonna moan my name when he's the one making you feel good?"
You whimper, eyes fluttering shut, and Heeseung smirks. "No, baby. Moan for him."
His tone drops lower, fingers tightening in your hair just enough to make your breath hitch. "Tell him how good he's making you feel."
Jay groans again at Heeseung's words, the sound muffled against your soaked heat and you have no choice but to give in.
"Jay—please—fuck, don't stop—"
Heeseung grins down at you, satisfied, as Jay continues to make out with your pussy like he would a pair of lips. It's as if he thinks or knows he's never going to get another chance.
Jay pulls back from your core, lips wet, chest rising and falling like he's struggling to breathe. Heeseung watches him with lazy amusement, fingers still tangled in your hair.
"Spit on it," Heeseung says casually. "Go on."
Jay hesitates for a second before obeying, a thick string of saliva landing right on your already swollen clit, making you flinch with a soft gasp. You immediately cover your face with both hands, heat rushing up your neck in embarrassment.
"Oh come on," Heeseung laughs, tugging at your wrists to pull your hands away. "You've done worse, baby. Don't get all shy now."
Jay's gaze flicks between your face and Heeseung's, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Can I..." he starts, "Can I use my fingers?"
Heeseung raises an eyebrow like he can't believe the question. "Don't ask me," he says, smirking. "Ask her."
Jay turns his eyes back to you, his voice suddenly gentler because it's you, more uncertain. "Can I?" he asks, his fingers trailing up your thigh. "Please?"
You nod, breath catching, and Heeseung hums behind you. "Such a good girl," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, eyes locked on Jay.
Jay's fingers slide into you slowly, nearly devout, his mouth parting in shock at how responsive you are.
Jay can't believe this is real.
He's touched you before—innocent things of course, brief hugs, a hand at your back when you passed through a doorway, a brush of fingers when you handed him a drink, but this? This is something else entirely. His hand is between your legs, and you're so wet, so hot and clenching so tight around his fingers like your body wants to keep him there.
It feels like a dream. Like one of those late night, guilty fantasies he used to have before slamming the brakes on his thoughts. But there's no stopping to this cause you're whimpering for him, your head resting on Heeseung's lap, your hips rocking toward him like you need this.
Your lips part around a moan, soft and breathless, and Jay nearly loses it. "Ah! Jay—Fuck!"
He watches his own fingers curling inside your cunt, he's relishing how tight you are, and it's so much better than anything he ever imagined. Your body reacts to him so naturally and that sends a rush of heat through him that leaves him dizzy in his already hungover state.
"You're shaking," Heeseung speaks up from behind you. "What's the matter, Jay? You've got everything you wanted."
Jay blinks rapidly, his voice thick. "She's...so fucking tight." His eyes flick up to meet yours.
You moan again, gripping the couch cushion, and Jay thinks this is it—nothing will probably ever come close to this moment.
Jay's fingers curl just right and you suddenly lose it. "Oh my God!" Your back arches off the couch, a cry tumbling from your lips as you grab Jay's wrist in a panic, breath hitching with every stuttering pulse inside you. "No—no, not on the couch," you gasp, eyes wide and pleading, barely able to breathe through the tension building in your core from him damn near assaulting that spot he's found.
"Oh, you're gonna squirt, baby?" Heeseung sounds delighted, his hand stroking over your thigh lazily like he's so proud of you for unraveling like this.
You nod quickly, biting your lip and still trying to push Jay's hand away. "Please, Hee—not on the couch, I swear, please."
Heeseung chuckles, completely unfazed, watching the panic and pleasure twist across your face. "I can't believe you're thinking about the couch right now." He says as he gently pries your fingers from Jay's wrist, letting Jay continue freely.
"Come on, princess. Let it happen," Heeseung whispers leaning down and steadying you against his lap while Jay's fingers move faster inside you again, now insistent and determined.
Jay can barely think straight. You're about to cum all over his hand, and Heeseung is being so calm and teasing about it, he's holding you in place while Jay brings you there.
"Let go," Heeseung tells you, "don't fight it, baby. I'll buy a new fucking couch."
As much you tried, Jay is dangerously good at what he's doing, with a few more thrusts of his fingers and then brushing against that spot that has your screaming you cum. It's messy and comes with a sob, "Ahh! Jayyy!"
Jay feels it happen before his brain can even think of catching up. Your whole body jerks in his grip and your thighs tremble, breath caught in your throat as you cum. A hot, wet rush over his fingers, coating his palm all the way to his forearm, soaking the cushions beneath you.
"Fuck—" Jay curses, stunned, his voice hoarse and breathless. He doesn't stop moving, fingers still stroking through it like he's completely lost his mind, eyes locked on where you're dripping everywhere.
"Yeahhh," Heeseung laughs behind you, thrilled, both hands grabbing your thighs to shake them a little, guiding your twitching hips as the overstimulation takes over. "Let's make a mess, baby—that's it, give Jay the full show."
You're crying out, squirming uselessly in Jay's grip as your body keeps trembling and pulsing under his touch, slick coating your thighs, your stomach, him.
Jay groans, forehead falling forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, worshiping you. "Jesus Christ...this is insane..."
"I've never—" He starts, still breathless, his fingers slipping out slowly as your body flinches from the sensitivity. "I've never seen that in real life before."
You whimper, covering your face in embarrassment, your thighs still twitching in Heeseung's grasp.
"Oh baby," Heeseung grins behind you, wiping sweat stuck strands of hair from your cheek, amused as ever. "Jay's never made a girl squirt before. What do we say to him?"
You groan into your hands, but Jay watches, entranced, when you peek through your fingers and whisper, "Thank you, Jay..."
His heart pounds, stomach tightens. His name on your lips like that, your body trembling beneath him, soaked from something he did, it makes him feel drunk.
Jay's eyes are glued to the glistening mess of your pussy, your thighs shaking a bit as Heeseung strokes along them, drawing out your little shivers. Jay's fingers jerk at his sides, aching to reach for you again.
Heeseung watches him, then leans back comfortably, "So...you satisfied?"
Jay doesn't answer, he can't. His cock is straining painfully against his stomach, twitching with every breath you take and his silence says everything.
Heeseung's grin grows wider. "No?" He clicks his tongue. "Thought so."
"You wanna use that raging boner, or you gonna sit there like it's your first time all over again?" Heeseung's tone is light, but there's a challenge buried in it.
Jay's eyes find yours, wild and searching and you can't believe how much you want it, how fast your legs try to close only for Heeseung to gently hold them apart again with a little laugh.
His hands are on you before he even realizes it, pulling your hips towards him, so desperate to feel all of you again. His fingers fumble with his waistband as he pushes his pants and boxers completely off in one go. He grabs his cock and drags it over your folds again and again, finding that he's obsessed with the sound it's causing you to make.
His head drops back for a second and his eyes squeeze shut, he growls under his breath. "Jesus, Heeseung..."
You watch the hesitation fighting with the hunger in his eyes as he lines himself up, and just the head of hims cock pushing into your pussy makes you gasp.
"You're shaking," Jay says softly, almost to himself. "I haven't even—God, you feel so—"
Heeseung hums, gripping your waist and guiding you forward, closer to Jay. He groans, pressing in. The stretch burns, and you cry out, your nails digging into his forearm. The fact that you've taken Heeseung's bigger cock doesn't take away from the fact that Jay's is splitting you open right now.
Jay curses and he drops his head to your shoulder, breath hot against your skin and his head even grazes Heeseung's thigh as well. "I can't—I can't believe this—"
Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, and the sound you make when he's fully inside you is so high pitched and broken, it makes both men still.
Heeseung's grip tightens as he whispers, "Good girl...Look how pretty you are for him."
Jay can't move at first, the squeeze of your pussy is too tight around his cock. You're moaning and clutching him and it's because of how well his cock is filling you up.
Heeseung's voice is in your ear again, taunting and low. "You gonna let him make you cum again, baby? Gonna let him fuck you just right while I watch?"
You nod wildly, barely comprehending the words you're hearing. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me Jongie!"
That nickname, that damn nickname is what has Jay nearly losing it, he finally starts moving, slow and deep rolls of his hips that have both of you shuddering.
You can't stop looking between the two of them. Jay, flushed and desperate above you. Heeseung, calm and possessive above you, fingers stroking your trembling thighs.
"Heeseung..." you almost whimper.
"What is it, doll?" Heeseung asks looking down at your face. "You nervous now?"
Jay sees the way your lips tremble, watches the way your chest rises and falls in shaky little gasps.
"N-no...I want it. I just..." You glance at Jay again, eyes flickering down between your bodies, your legs twitching like you want to close them, from instinct, modesty, nerves? You have no idea.
"I—We don't have to—" Jay starts but Heeseung cuts him off with a laugh. "You're seriously gonna back out now?" He grips your hips, angling you just a little—just enough to make you whine. "After everything? Come on, Jay. You can do better than that."
Jay's eyes snap shut cause he can't even look at you, you're looking him like that.
Heeseung's tone drops into something dark and smooth. "Take her."
You gasp out again cause Jay obeys. He pulls out all the day until all that's left inside your clenching pussy is the bulbous head of his cock. Then he slams back in
"You're—fuck—you feel unreal," he groans, the words breaking apart in his throat.
You whimper at the force he starts using to fuck into you, clutching Heeseung's thighs behind you. "Heeseung—he's—ah—so big—"
"You good, Jay?" Heeseung's smirking. "Or do you need a minute?"
Jay can't even think, he's still pounding his cock into you and already feeling insane from it. His eyes trail over your flushed skin, the curve of your breasts, the tears threatening to spill at the corners of your eyes, the way your lips part with every ragged little breath.
His hands push at the backs of your knees basically folding you in half. "Nghh—Jong—Jongie!"
"Fuck—baby...Your pussy's so tight."
The word baby slips out before he can stop it, and your fingers twitch, clutching at the couch cushions like you don't know what to do with the sensation of his thick cock shoving in and out of you.
All you can do is cry out and arch your back as your try to kick your legs, but Jay presses them further into your chest. "Agh! You're so fucking pretty, Y/n." He starts babbling, "Pretty face, pretty pussy." He goes on and his words have you whimpering. "Jay—Jongie! Please don't stop!"
As your squeaking muffles into softer whimpers you notice Heeseung's gone quiet, you crane your head to look up at him and he's not even looking at your face, his eyes seem to be glued to the bulge moving up and down in your stomach, a testament to Jay's cock.
His jaw is tense and his tongue is pressed to the inside of his cheek. He finally looks at your face and watches your lips part with a gasp and moan from each brutal thrust—his girl falling apart so beautifully under someone else, and yet there's no anger in his expression.
It's all just heat, burning heat.
His hand slides up your ribs and spreads over your chest to cup your breast, but he still doesn't say anything. His thumb brushes your nipple, and you whimper, louder this time. "Mm—Hee."
Jay's hips start to lose rhythm, his eyes can't stop darting between your face and where his cock is deep inside you, your slick coating him every time he pulls out, only to push right back in with more pressure.
"God," Jay groans, "you feel like a fucking dream..."
You open your eyes, hazy and wet with tears of pleasure mixed with pain, to blink up at him. "Jay—"
He lets out a low moan, his rhythm breaking even further.
"You're moaning for me..." His voice cracks on the last word, and he leans over you a little, his forehead nearly touching yours.
You nod, crying out with every thrust. "It's so good—it's so good..."
Heeseung's gaze sharpens at your words, his hand trails down your stomach again, resting lightly just above where Jay disappears inside you, his thumb pressing into the soft skin.
Jay's eyes flick down and he swears under his breath, hips stalling for a beat.
You start to writhe and whimper. "Don't stop..." you plead, hips tilting up to meet his thrusts, with glassy eyes and desperate moans.
"Jay—please—faster..."
Your soft needy voice nearly knocks the wind out of him, he wasn't prepared for how this would feel, for the way you just moan his name like it belongs to you, for the way your body pulls him deeper, begging for more. He can't think straight anymore.
Jay's pace picks up, his grip even tightens it's sure to leave bruises, he's mesmerized by the way your breasts bounce with every thrust, the way your lips part in helpless moans. He truly feels like he's going insane, maybe that's why he opens his mouth and doesn't even think before he spews out the words.
"Fuck..." he growls, "you're spreading your legs for your fiancé's best friend like a little whore."
He really doesn't mean to say it, well at least not out loud. The words just tumble out like they've been boiling in him—dark, jealous, and aching, born from years of being second, from watching Heeseung have everything he never dared to want.
But now he has you right here and now, not only taking his cock but also begging for it.
Jay stills when his own words hit his ears, his eyes go wide and his heart slams in his chest.
Shit. What the fuck did I just say?
Silence fills the room for an awful horrifying minute. His brain scrambles cause his guilt and arousal are colliding. Because what right does he have? The audacity of him, like he's not the one who looked Heeseung in the eye not thirty minutes ago and admitted he wanted to fuck you.
And now here he is inside you, degrading you like you're the one who crossed a line. The hypocrisy claws at his throat, and his eyes dart to Heeseung expecting rage, maybe a fist in his face.
Your eyes widen, and to his shock you moan. The sound is soft and breath as your lashes flutter cause the words didn't shame you like he thought they would, they lit you up inside.
Heeseung's eyes flash and he finally reacts, but it's just a sharp inhale and a raise of his brows—pure shock.
He nods slightly and Jay reads that as permission, it's obvious by the way his fingers that had loosened their grip on your thighs now tighten again, his cock twitches inside you too.
He leans over, putting his full weight on top of you in a mating press as he continues to do talk to you. "You like that?" he whispers, moving again, slow at first but building up to the same pace as before, "You like letting me fuck you when you're his? Letting me say filthy shit while he watches?"
You nearly scream, your body writhing under him and it makes Jay groan.
"You've always wanted this, haven't you? Wanted me to fuck you." He's starting to get a bit delusional, he knows. He's projecting his feelings onto you, but just to hear you say it, maybe agree? Will completely undo him.
Heeseung's watching it all with his expression shifting between dark and aroused approval now, his hand sliding up to your neck, lightly cradling your jaw so your eyes can't leave Jay's face.
"Tell me," Jay damn near pleads, so obviously desperate now, you can tell by the way his hips start to snap sharper, "tell me you wanted this."
Your answer is nothing but a choked moan, your hands are scrabbling for Jay's back. "Yes, yes—Jay, I wanted you—I wanted this—"
He's so close to tears from your words alone, he doesn't even care that it might be just the haze of the sex that has you blubbering nonsense, he doesn't care that you might not even mean it—the squeeze and squelch of your pussy is too delicious for him to care.
"Oh my God—I'm losing my mind!" He groans, slamming his cock into you faster and harder, the air becomes thick with moans and grunts of feral need.
You start to shake and Heeseung sees your toes curl and he knows exactly what's about to happen, he knows watches Jay lean back off you only to grab you by your ankles and continue to fuck you like a rag doll, he uses your ankles to drag you faster unto his cock and you can't stand it. He's hitting deeper now and the tears have started spilling down your cheeks.
"Shittt! Ah—My pussy! It's so deep!"
You try to push back on his stomach but it's so useless, Heeseung even takes your hand away and presses his hand hard right over the bulge in your belly. You look up at him in shock, "Hee! No—!"
Jay grunts at the sight and his eyes roll back, but not before locking with Heeseung's for a split second, like he can't believe he's helping him make you cum. "She's close. Don't let her run."
"Oh fuck!" Jay mutters at the way your walls clench around him like a fucking vise, you're literally milking him for everything he's got, milking his cock of all his cum, all with your head thrown back and a sob that barely sounds human.
"F—fuck, she's so tight, I can't—" Jay chokes, his thrusts turning sloppy and uneven, "She's—fuck—she's cumming."
You are, shaking so helplessly and screaming as you cum hard on his cock, clutching his cock so tight he can't even move anymore. His hands dig into your thighs as his own orgasm creeps up on him.
Jay gasps, "Oh shit, I'm—I'm close—fuck—Heeseung—"
Before he can finish his sentence of whatever he was about to ask Heeseung for, Heeseung's already moving, reaching over, shoving Jay's hips back with force.
"Not inside my fiancée," Heeseung mutters, voice firm with finality, and Jay groans weakly as he pulls out, his cock twitching against your skin.
Hot, thick and long spurts of his cum land across your stomach, your chest, your thighs. Jay whimpers on seeing his cum land right on your perky nipple, his head drops forward in shameful relief, hands gripping the couch cause he's scared he'll fall.
You're so breathless and hazy, trying to blink up at them, and Heeseung just chuckles softly, dragging a thumb through the mess on your stomach like it's nothing new.
"Messy," he muses, then flicks his eyes to Jay. "You always cum this much?"
Jay can only shake his head cause he's panting too hard and already wondering how the fuck he's going to face either of you tomorrow.
The silence is thick and heavy in its lingering, Jay can't seem to take his eyes off you, you're laying limbless on the couch with the aftershocks still coursing through you.
Jay can't bring himself to understand how Heeseung is moving like nothing just happened, he's watching his best friend and he can't see any tension in his bare shoulders or heat in his eyes. He just gets up and disappears down the hall for a beat, and Jay's too afraid to speak.
Heeseung returns with a towel and crouches beside you, wiping the mess from your stomach with slow, gentle strokes, his fingers grazing your skin with something between affection and possession.
"You okay, baby?" His voice is soft now, almost fond.
You hum, barely, too fucked out to answer, but that's all he needs. He drops the towel to the floor, and sits your body up so he can lift you into his arms. Your limbs instinctively wrap around him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, your eyes closing slowly as you bury your face against his neck.
Heeseung doesn't even look at Jay, but what was he expecting? A conversation right after? He just shifts you in his grip, one hand steadying your thigh, the other curling protectively around your back, and heads for the stairs.
Before he disappears up them, Heeseung pauses to glance back just once.
"See you later, Jay."
Then he's gone, carrying you upstairs with the same calm he'd displayed the whole time, leaving Jay alone, breathless in the sun filled room. Alone with his thoughts and the echo of your moans.
Heeseung didn't cut corners.
Jay should've known that, but seeing the candlelit restaurant he'd rented out, the long white linen table set with gold glassware and the curated meals being served in front of him it hits him differently tonight.
Because this isn't for just anyone.
It's for you and Jay should've known Heeseung would go all out for your birthday.
But he didn't just plan a birthday dinner, he orchestrated an entire night with privates chefs, warm lighting and custom menus with your initials pressed into the paper. Even your friends look a little stunned when they walked in, whispering to each other with barely hidden smiles.
You look so happy right now, the dress you're wearing is soft and pale, sparkly enough to catch the glow of the light every time you move. It slips along your curves like it was stitched for your skin alone, delicate at the straps and hugging your waist in a way that makes Jay's breath catch, but not with lust or even longing. Just pure admiration.
You're beautiful and Heeseung is looking at you like he knows.
Jay watches the way Heeseung's hand never really leaves your body. Sometimes it's your lower back, sometimes your wrist as you pour wine, sometimes just the curve of your thigh beneath the table, but it's always there—quiet and assured.
Jake and Sunghoon are at the table, talking like usual. Jake's leaning back, talking to one of your friends to try and get with her—Jay guessed him and Sofi are over. While Sunghoon scrolls through something on his phone with a smirk. Neither of them had batted an eye when it became clear Jay and Heeseung stayed friends after everything. And if they did have something to say about it, they've kept it to themselves. They're just...the same, like nothing ever happened.
Jay's chest feels a little heavier tonight, though. As if he's holding a stone he doesn't quite know where to set down.
It's not regret.
That morning changed something. Not just between him and you, but also between him and Heeseung.
There isn't any bad blood or weird wedge. They still talk and laugh. They even went to the gym two days ago, but what really shocked Jay is that Heeseung hasn't brought it up since. In the three weeks since he fucked you on the couch with your fiancé watching, Heeseung hasn't spoken on it or even showed any signs of wanting to address it.
Jay has taken is as what it is—a one time thing, a single allowance and just something that will never happen again.
Heeseung didn't need to say that out loud. The next morning, after everything, all he said to Jay was, "You good?" and Jay nodded. That was it.
The unspoken boundary had rebuilt itself, gentle but final.
You're his.
And Jay is no longer pretending he wants anything else.
He takes another sip of wine, fingers loose around the stem. You're glowing in the candlelight, whispering something to your friend that makes you both giggle. He watches the way your earrings catch in your hair, how your smile crinkles the corners of your eyes.
Jay's not in love with you, he realizes that now. He was in love with the fantasy or the idea of you, the idea of the perfect girl who never belonged to him. The softness he thought he wanted, the sweetness he believed would complete him. But that day taught him something—he merely wanted you because he wasn't allowed to.
And now that he was give the opportunity, though once and fleetingly under someone else's rules, he knows now it's not what he needed.
Still, you were kind to him. Gentle, even in your submission and it'll stay with him but as a story instead of a scar.
Something only the three of you will ever fully understand.
Jay sets his glass down, leans back in his chair, and lets the music wash over him. He can now look at you not not feel that dull ache in his chest and you're radiant tonight—laughing too loud, leaning into Heeseung. There's something startlingly clean about how Jay feels watching you. What he feels most now is strangely peace.
He'd wanted you for so long in a way he never admitted, not even to himself. Although he remembers the weight of your hips from that day and the sound of your breath when you trembled.
It was the most intimate thing Jay had ever done, and somehow it wasn't even his. You still belonged to someone else, fully and without question.
Somehow...that made it all easier to let go.
He's not jealous now, watching you feed Heeseung a bite of cake. He's not bitter when you tilt your head just so, laughing at a joke no one else hears.
He got what he never thought he'd have, a glimpse and the man who gave it to him didn't punish him for it.
That might be the strangest part.
Jay shifts in his chair and picks at the condensation on his glass. The weight of what happened lives in him quietly, like a memory you don't touch too often and it doesn't even hurt.
He's not looking at you like he used to, that version of his wanting burned itself out, and something calmer has started to bloom in its place.
You're laughing at something one of your friends says when your eyes suddenly flick to his, the smile you give him is unexpected, it's soft and radiant like you don't even see a single shadow of the past when you look at him.
He smiles back with no tightness behind it or tension in his chest.
It's full of warmth, he's happy you're happy and happy that he somehow didn't lose Heeseung either. There was a window of time where he thought he might. That whatever happened that day would stain their friendship beyond repair, that it would wedge its way into every interaction until all they had left was silence.
Jay looks toward him now, watching the way Heeseung's fingers trace along the stem of his wine glass. His gaze hasn't left you for the past three minutes, and Jay leans over just enough to mutter with a teasing raise of his brow, "Don't you have a speech to make or something, lover boy?"
Heeseung blinks like he just woke up from a dream.
"Oh shit, right!" He clears his throat, but he's already smiling at only you.
"I had this whole speech written down," he starts, voice soft, "but then I looked at you just now and forgot all of it."
Jay chuckles as Heeseung stands abruptly, glass in hand, tapping it gently with a butter knife until the table quiets.
You turn toward him, blinking up with that same bashful joy that's been on your face all night, and Jay sees the way Heeseung softens when he looks at you, like everything else in the world dulls in comparison.
"I don't really like speeches," Heeseung says with a small smile, glancing around the table. "But I love her. So..." he rubs the back of his neck. "I usually just let my actions speak for me. But tonight's different."
He looks down at you then, his hand brushing your shoulder, and his tone dips into something so sincere it makes your heart skip.
"Because tonight is about you. And I just want to say...thank you. For loving me the way you do. For being patient when I'm difficult. For choosing me every single day even when I don't deserve it."
There's a hush at the table, and your throat tightens a little.
"You make my life better in every way. You're my best friend, my future, my reason to try harder. And if I'm lucky, like really lucky, you'll always let me love you the way you deserve."
You're already covering your face.
"Baby," he grins. "Don't cry yet. I haven't even said anything that sappy."
The table laughs gently, but Heeseung's eyes find yours again. "Some people," he continues more quietly now, "come into your life and make it louder. Crazier. More chaotic. You're not that person."
You smile, glass trembling just slightly in your hand.
"You made my life quieter. More peaceful. You made it make sense. I didn't know what that kind of love felt like until you."
Jay glances at you, sees your lip trembling, your friend patting your cheeks so your makeup won't smudge, and he can't help but grin.
Heeseung keeps going, voice glistening with emotion.
"You let me be soft. You let me be stupid in love. You let me fall apart sometimes and still believe I'm worthy of being yours."
He pauses, swallowing, blinking up toward the sky for a moment.
"So I wanted tonight to be perfect. Because that's what you've made every single day since you came into my life."
There's a pause before Heeseung lifts his glass of champagne.
"To the most beautiful girl in the world on her special day."
You're fully crying just glowing, quiet tears and trembling hands, the kind of joy that feels incredibly overwhelming. Your friends are clapping, laughing gently, someone's wiping their own eyes.
Jay claps too with pride and peace, because he means it, he raises his glass quietly and smiles, so full of gratitude that he was ever close enough to see what love like that looked like up close.
"But listen," he goes on, drawing everyone's attention in again, "as much as I love my fiancée..."
He pauses for a second and it makes you give him a suspicious squint.
"...I think I've finally reached my breaking point."
Mumbles starts to bubble around the table, but you groan cause you know what he's about to say.
"Heeseung—"
"I mean, there's only so many times one man can pretend not to notice curb rashes on every single one of his cars."
Your jaw drops. "I do not—!"
He shrugs innocently, sipping his drink and everyone is laughing now, you hide your face in your hands.
"So in honor of the love of my life, and her unique driving skills—" he glances toward the massive windows of the restaurant just as Jay can turn in the direction of Heeseung's gaze—a white Porsche rolls to a stop outside, shining under the valet lights with a huge cherry red bow on top.
Everyone gasps and phones come up immediately as your mouth falls open.
Heeseung holds your hands and bring you to your feet, holding you close as he brushes a kiss to the side of your head. "Happy birthday, baby."
He whispers against your cheek, really teasing,
"Dent this one all you want."
You laugh through your tears, wrapping your arms around him, completely overwhelmed. He pulls you into a hug as your friends cheer. Jake's already filming the moment while Sunghoon mutters "no way" and Jay grins.
"Oh my God! Let's go see it!" One of your friends squeals, pulling you from your hug with Heeseung and taking you outside.
Everyone rushes outside as chairs scrape against the wood floors, laughter bubbles up like champagne, feet shuffle, heels click but Jay doesn't move. He stays seated cause he just wants to stay in the moment
Through the tall windows, the camera and street lights flood in, your eyes are wide with your lips parted and your hands covering your mouth as you stare at the car where it's parked like a scene straight out of a commercial.
Your friends are squealing, pulling you forward and coaxing you to get in it. Jake's in awe and Sunghoon's filming it all.
Jay doesn't hear the footsteps that approach him but he feels the heavy presence immediately, that calm gravity Heeseung moves with, proving that he's never uncertain or shaken.
He stops beside Jay's chair and they both watch in silence for a second.
You're running your hands along the car door, laughing, solely illuminated under the street light. Heeseung watches you for a little longer before he glances at Jay.
When their eyes meet, there isn't any tension, but there's understanding. Heeseung holds his hand out and and Jay takes it immediately, their palms meet in a solid grip of some brotherly pull that's been theirs for years.
Heeseung leans in, voice just for Jay. "It's the least I could do, you know?"
Jay just watches him silently and Heeseung watches you. "...After all she's done for us."
Jay stills a little at that word. Us.
It hangs heavy, but not in a bad way cause it's just truth. The soft, solid truth of a shared memory, and a closed door.
Jay lets out a slow breath, eyes fixed on you in the distance, still being twirled by your friends in front of the car.
And he smiles. "Yeah, man," Jay says, his voice a little hoarse. "You did real good."
Heeseung just claps him once on the back, and heads out without another word.
Jay watches him go.
Watches the way you light up as soon as Heeseung steps into your eyesight. The way you run straight to him, not even thinking. He catches you, lifts you right off your feet, spinning you in a full circle while you squeal, your head tips back in laughter.
His hands are all over you as soon as he sets you down, in your hair, on your waist, cupping your face and he kisses you like no one else is even there.
Jay doesn't kid himself, he knows the car, the extravagant, gleaming car now parked outside with the ridiculous bow on it, isn't some twisted gift of gratitude. It's not Heeseung's way of thanking you for letting his best friend fuck you—far from it.
Jay knows Heeseung would've bought that car anyway.
It isn't a thank you. Jay interprets it as more of a promise or a reminder from Heeseung that you're his and that you always were.
Jay watches for a while, filled with peace and closure and maybe a little wonder. That's what love looks like, he thinks. That's what forever looks like.
"You're not gonna go see the car?"
Jay's head lifts at the sound of the curious voice, it cuts through the haze of his thoughts and pulls him back from where he'd been stuck watching Heeseung spin you around beneath the evening lights.
His eyes find the voice's source and for a second, he doesn't say anything.
Because she's absolutely stunning. Stunning in the sort of way that sneaks up on a person and crawls under their skin. Her features are soft, delicate almost, with wide dark eyes that study him openly from the far end of the table.
Jay blinks, then lets a slow grin pull at his lips, equally curios now.
"Nah, I've seen enough cars get gifted. You think I should go out and cry over it too? Maybe get inspired?"
She laughs, head tilting slightly with the sound and Jay watches the curve of her mouth, the soft flush to her cheeks. There's no awkwardness or pretense in her.
"Maybe," she says, eyes dancing. "Or maybe you just don't want to get up."
He leans back in his chair, still grinning with his eyes locked on hers now. "I swear I can't hear you that well from all the way over there." He pats the seat next to him purposefully. "Come closer. Help me decide if I'm just lazy."
There's a beat of charged silence but it fills with awareness instead of hesitation. Her gaze flicks to the empty chair, then back to him, and Jay watches as her lips curl into a knowing smile.
"Alright then," she murmurs, standing.
As she rounds the table toward him, Jay's heart kicks just slightly faster, not that he'd ever admit it.
For the first time in a long time, he's not thinking about you or comparing her to you. Like chasing the ghost of a moment that already passed.
She sits close enough now that Jay can see the delicate shimmer of gloss on her lips and the soft sweep of her lashes over her cheeks as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. Her perfume alone is distracting, but it's a distraction Jay welcomes.
"I'm Leseo, by the way," she says, offering her hand, and her voice is lighter now, but still holding that quiet self possession he's starting to memorize as her.
Jay takes her hand easily, warm skin against his, and says, "Jay." His thumb brushes her knuckles lightly, more out of habit than intent and he holds on just a beat longer than necessary.
"You a friend of the birthday girl?" he asks, tilting his chin in your direction where you're still outside, sat in the car now with Heeseung standing next to you by the open door.
Leseo nods. "Yeah, we've known each other for a while. College."
Jay hums, his grip still loose around her fingers.
"I'm one of Heeseung's friends," he adds with a lopsided smile. "Clearly."
She lifts a brow. "Oh, I know. Heeseung's friend."
Then her eyes dip to their hands and back up, playful amusement in her gaze.
"You gonna let go of my hand? Or do you this with every girl?"
Jay glances down and only now realizes he's still holding her hand in his.
And instead of letting go, he smirks and drops his gaze to their joined hands like he's just now considering it. "I could," he murmurs, voice smooth, eyes meeting hers. "But I don't want to."
He notices the corners of her lips twitch in response, a quiet breath of laughter escaping her nose as she doesn't pull away either.
This is already bordering on dangerous and it hasn't quite started.
You suddenly slip back into the room with a soft hum under your breath, muttering about lip gloss and pictures, digging in your purse distractedly as your heels click across the floor. "Where did I put—oh," you pause.
Your eyes lift and you freeze, lips parting a little. You eyes shift to Leseo's hand in Jay's, noting how close they are, how their heads are titled toward each other like their in some secret conversation with their faces too close and their smiles too flustered when they notice you standing there.
You whole face lights up. "No way..." you whisper, barely able to contain your grin, although you try.
But before you can say anything else, Heeseung appears in the doorway, eyes immediately seeking you out like always, cause to him you'd been gone for hours instead of seconds. His hand is already reaching for your waist.
But then his gaze lands on Jay and Leseo too.
Jay stiffens just slightly, glancing up to see Heeseung smirking too evilly, already opening his mouth to say something ridiculous, Jay is sure.
You spin on your heel, grabbing Heeseung by the lapels of his jacket. "Don't. Start." you hiss, laughing as you shove him back out of the room, both of you stumbling a little as he chuckles behind you, already peppering kisses to your cheek and neck to distract you. "Hee—! Stop, let's go!"
You can hear both Jay and Leseo laughing, trying to compose themselves but it's clearly the good type of flustered, the type that lingers like heat in your chest.
And just before the door shuts behind you again, Jay catches Heeseung pointing to his left hand, tapping his middle finger meaningfully with a big grin. Put a ring on it. Jay already knows and he rolls his eyes but with a grin of his own cause he's still holding Leseo's hand and her laugh is lingering in the air.
He can't stop looking at her, he exhales softly, glancing down at Leseo's hand still resting in his.
"You know," she says with a quieter voice, "I think our friends really love each other."
Jay looks through the glass at Heeseung cradling your face, kissing your forehead, and you smiling like there's no one else in the world.
"Yeah," he murmurs. "They really do."
Leseo shifts, her knee brushing thigh. "That what you want too?"
"Maybe," Jay says. His thumb brushes her knuckles.
"Maybe I just found it."
Leseo blushes, nearly beet red, as her lips tug into a soft smile. "I never even got to see the car."
Jay leans back slightly as his eyes gleam. "Wanna go see it now?" he asks. "I'll even open the door for you."
She laughs, standing slowly, hand still in his as he leads her to the door. Jay doesn't look back, at the last or all the could have beens.
And when Heeseung catches his eye through the glass when he almost reaches the door, he's grinning like he already knows, Jay just smiles back, lighter than he's felt in a long, long time.
He steps outside with Leseo, the cool night air wrapping around them and the low thrum of music still trailing from inside. For a moment, it feels like the world narrows to just them, but before he can say anything cheeky, you’re there reaching for Leseo and she beams, willingly releasing Jay's hand and letting you pull her into your circle of friends. She's swept away effortlessly, her laughter blending into the easy chaos of the small crowd.
A familiar presence falls into step beside him, silent at first and Jay doesn't have to look to know it's Heeseung.
Jay's eyes find you again, the way you tilt your head as Leseo excitedly tells you something, the easy way you reach for her hand and squeeze it. He wonders if you know how easy you make everything look, how effortless you make all of this seem.
"Didn't think I'd be into voyeurism." Heeseung speaks
Jay's head snaps toward him slightly, totally caught off guard. "What?"
Heeseung doesn't look at him cause he’s too busy staring at you.
"I've never been the type to want to watch," he says thoughtfully. "At least…not in person, you know?”
“But watching her...and you—it's different." His tone reflective. "It doesn't feel like watching, maybe more like seeing?"
Jay genuinely doesn't know how to respond, he feels like there’s a knot of confusion in his throat, he’s also just now realizing that this is the first time they've really talked about what happened or even what it meant.
But regardless, Heeseung doesn't press, he just stands beside him like normal
Jay breathes in deep, trying to find anything to say but there are too many thoughts and none of them fully settle into words.
"You wanna come back to our place tonight?" Heeseung's voice is so certain, like the question was inevitable.
Jay opens his mouth, but his gaze finds Leseo again. She's laughing at something you said, eyes bright, totally at ease. He hesitates, torn for a moment between whatever sense of normalcy he thought he had five minutes ago and this strange, magnetic pull he can't seem to resist.
"She knows," Heeseung says quietly, reading him all too easily. "Everything."
Jay stills. "And she's okay with it?"
Heeseung finally turns to look at him with a little mischievous gleamer in his eyes. "She could even…join?"
Jay's pulse stutters in shocking acceptance and anticipation. Because none of this feels wrong or even forced. And if he's being honest, the tension he might have expected...really never came, so he’s not mad or confused, he kind of just wants to see where this goes.
"Okay," Jay says finally. "Yeah. I'll come."
Heeseung nods once, and there's a flicker of something like arousal in his eyes. They fall into silence again, just watching you and Leseo, and when Jay’s eyes find Leseo’s, she’s already watching him.
She smiles so soft and knowing with a glint of excitement that has every last weight of doubt finally falling away from his body. It has him smiling back and wondering if he’ll be proposing to her nine months for now too, but that seems a bit farfetched for now, right?
MIDNIGHT CAME TWICE ── .୨ৎ park sunghoon x park jongseong one shot
You just wanted to call over one of your late night distractions with a risky little picture. It was meant to be easy and harmless, except your thumb slipped, and now both boys you’ve been sneaking around with are at your door. Two sets of eyes. One mistake. Yeah they definitely think you’re a whore…but do they care?
nfsw warnings ── SMUT, sexting, crying, threesome, slight slut shaming, swearing, angst if you’re a pussy, mean dom hoon and soft dom jongie (kinda), lots of teasing, use of nicknames, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, not proofread.
7k
It's 12:09 a.m., and your dorm feels too quiet, or for lack of a better term—you’re bored, so bored. The hallway outside is dead, cause of course everyone else has responsibilities in the morning, you clearly don't care though.
You're laying on your stomach, phone in your hand, your feet kicking behind you, you feel so restless but truly you’re just really horny.
And right now your mind is trying to decide between two very different boys—Park Jongseong also known as Jay and Park Sunghoon, two very different kinds of trouble. You’ve been hooking up with both of them for months now, you started with Jay and then at some art show after party your friend dragged you to, you went home with Sunghoon.
Normally you’d chose one, you used to pride yourself in having only one sexual partner at a time and God knows you tried but how were you meant to? Both of them are so different. Jay is the cockier one, he’s warm in that dangerously deceptive way, the kind of guy that leans close when he talks, voice smooth like he's letting you in on some serious secret.
Being with him feels like falling onto a soft mattress you know you one hundred percent shouldn't trust. He praises too easily, touches too confidently, coos at you when you whine that he’s too deep, and knows exactly how to make you feel like you're the only person in whatever room he's in.
A plus side is that you’ve come very close to passing out from how hard he’s made you cum from fucking his impressive cock into you. He does disappear for days though, he’ll leave you on read like it's a game he already knows he'll win. He also treats you like a clingy girlfriend sometimes and you hate it, but he always makes you forget the mental list of reasons you should block him.
Then there's Sunghoon, the colder one you'd say, but there's a certain heat beneath every controlled move of his. He likes you in such a quiet, kind of terrifying way where he doesn't really flirt, he just shows up. You don't even know how you went home with him at night, till now you still wonder what it was about you that made him go "Yeah I'm taking her home." You remember your friend's shocked reaction when you came home the next morning and told her you were with Sunghoon, she asked how you managed that. Managed—what? Like it's hard?
Sunghoon makes you work for every reaction, but when he cracks, it's so damn rewarding. He gives the best, most devastating head, sometimes you don't even fuck, he just eats your pussy till you're whining for him to stop and he chuckles and calls you a coward when he pulls off you.
He loves when you ride him but you don't like it cause you have to keep your eyes on him or you'll feel his hand smack your ass real harsh. You never ever know what he's thinking, to be honest you're not sure you want to know.
You toss twice on your bed, mind tugged in two directions. Jay feels like chaos you can crawl into while Sunghoon feels like a cliff you shouldn't look over but do anyway. Your tap your phone screen to life again with their names sitting right next to each other in your recents, taunting you. It's pathetic, honestly, this little ritual of yours—choosing which distraction matches the energy of your loneliness tonight.
How immature would it be to eeny meeny miny moe them and text whichever one your finger lands on—really immature, you think. But does it stop you? No. You chew the inside of your cheek, bringing your palm up to cover your eyes as you recite the nursery rhyme in your head.
Eeny meeny miney moe,
Catch a tiger by the toe.
If he hollers, let him go.
Eeny meeny mineyyyyy…moe!
Jay
You smile to yourself like he was secretly the one you wanted, walking over to your vanity mirror and taking your top off. You take a quick mirror selfie with your titties in view, you pose all sexy the way you know he likes. Looking it once over, you hit send with a flirty little text—Missin u Mr Park 💕
You leave your phone in the vanity, you’re so confident you don’t need to have a full conversation with him about him coming over, you’ve done this dance before and you’re so sure he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. You giggle to yourself all excited to be dicked down.
You hear the firm knock, quick, exactly Jay's style and something smug curls in your chest as you get up. You smooth your hair with your fingers, adjust your tiny tank top and saunter toward the door with a line already on your tongue. "Took you long eno—"
The words immediately die in your mouth.
That's definitely not Jay.
Sunghoon stands there with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and his eyes flat and unimpressed like you've already wasted his time. The hallway light casts a sharp line across his jaw, and he tilts his head a little, taking you in like you're the one who showed up uninvited.
Your brain stutters. "Sunghoon? Wh—Uh...What are you doing here?"
He raises a brow and responds with a dry tone. "Uh? You texted me?"
His mouth quirks just enough to get under your skin. "Missing you, Mr. Park?" he repeats in a voice that's meant to mock yours, quoting the exact words you sent and stating a fact. The fact that you called the wrong boy over with a nude you should've triple checked before sending.
You force your face into something calm, because freaking out at Sunghoon is pointless. So you pretend your stomach doesn’t drop so fast it's humiliating. The wrong Park, you sent the message to the wrong Park, you absolute moron. You manage to keep your face neutral though, trying to look a little bored even. Sunghoon showing up isn't exactly a disaster. In fact, it's...fine, more than fine even. You can handle him so you force your shoulders to relax. "Right. Yeah. That."
He steps past you without waiting for an invitation, brushing your shoulder as he goes into your room, already scanning your room like he’s looking for what’s changed since the last time he was here, then sets his phone on your desk like he has a designated spot there. Typical.
You're just closing the door when you hear footsteps close to your door and another figure rounds the corner.
Jay.
Oh fucking hell.
He about five feet away from you, wearing gray sweats and a black compression shirt, his hair a little messed up like he got dressed in a hurry. His eyes find you instantly, and that lazy grin spreads across his face. "There she is," he starts, standing in front of you now. "Hey, baby gi—" But his words catch when he finally notices the figure in your room.
Sunghoon turns at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, just enough to acknowledge him, posture straightening a little but nothing more that. Jay blinks, surprise flickering over his features before smoothing into something polite.
"Oh, Sunghoon, right? You're in Jake's stats class?"
Sunghoon nods once. "Yeah. Tuesdays and Thursdays. You're Jay."
Jay steps forward, offering a hand. "Good memory, man."
They shake hands, even dap each other up like buddies that haven’t seen each other in a while. Jay chuckles under his breath, easygoing as ever. Why do boys have to get along and make friends so easily?
Not only did you text the wrong boy...you texted both of them like a dimwit, now you’re wedged between them like some kind of doomed referee, brain scrambling for an escape route that absolutely doesn't exist, Jay breaks the silence first, of fucking course he does. He's always the one who swan dives into chaos with confidence he did not earn.
"So, Sunghoon..." Jay tilts his head, voice light, but his eyes are already sharp. "What are you doing in Y/N's dorm at midnight?"
He tries to say it like he's joking but the question lands heavy in the room. Sunghoon's face barely moves, for fucks sake, the guy looks like he was born unimpressed.
"I could ask you the same thing." He glances at Jay's hand that’s now somehow hovering near your hip.
Jay gives this confused snort that sounds a bit like a laugh, but you swear you can feel his mood sliding. You shoot him a warning glance that is basically shouting please don't ruin my life right now, but Sunghoon is the one that decides you do not get a grace period.
He shifts his weight, lets his gaze trail around the room like he's taking inventory, then lands on you again. "Well," he starts slow, "she did text me to come over."
You freeze, watching Jay's eyebrows pull together, you can literally see the gears turning in his head as the math starts mathing.
"What...text?" he asks, voice tighter.
Sunghoon lifts his phone presenting evidence. "Missing you, Mr. Park"
Jay blinks before his face shifts through about six stages of disbelief and anger before he stares right at you. "Missing you...Mr. Park?" he repeats and now he's actually annoyed, not pretend annoyed. "That was meant for him?"
Sunghoon laughs under his breath, almost like he's finally getting entertainment for the night. He looks you over with this lazy amusement that has no business being that attractive at this moment.
"Well," he murmurs, "you've been a little busy bee, Y/N." He gestures vaguely between himself and Jay. "Park Sunghoon and Park Jongseong? You’re fucking both of us? That's...adventurous."
Jay scoffs, offended but also fighting a smile because even he knows this situation is insane. "I'm sorry, adventurous?" he throws back. "You act like she planned a group project."
Sunghoon cocks his head to the side. "I mean, she kind of did. Accidentally apparently. But still."
You're just standing there, useless and mortified, trying to decide whether to explain, to lie, or to collapse on the carpet and hope both men leave out of confusion.
They both look at you at the same time and you’re so sure now that the universe genuinely wants you dead. Your mouth moves before your survival instincts can tackle you to the ground. "Look, it's not like you guys aren't sleeping with other girls," you say, hands flying up in some pathetic attempt at neutrality. "I'm not doing anything worse than what you two do every damn weekend."
Jay lets out this laugh that's not friendly. "Yeah, except we have the decency and at least half a brain not to sext two of them at the same time." He gestures vaguely at your phone like it's corrupted evidence. "With a damn tittie pic."
You really want the floor to open up, maybe not to swallow you whole, just to take a bite at your ankles so you have a reason to leave your own room.
Sunghoon, meanwhile, is having the time of his life. Leaning against your desk with his arms crossed and voice smooth enough to make you irritated on principle. "I am curious though," he says, watching the heat rise in your face. "Who did you actually want here? Hm? Who was the text actually for?"
Jay turns to him. "Why does that matter?"
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "Like I said, I’m curious."
Your soul leaves your body but you manage to glare at both of them. "This was a mistake, okay? I just…I messed up sending the text and I’m sorry."
"Can you both just leave? This is humiliating enough."
Jay shoots you a look that says please be serious for once in your life and Sunghoon tilts his head, still studying you. "In fact, which one of us did you fuck first?" "Oh! And also whose dick is bigger?" "Wh—"
"Quit it, Hoon. Just go"
You've barely finished your sentence before he’s pushing off your desk and closing the space between you, annoyingly graceful. His arms are folded across his chest, as he dips his head, just enough that his mouth is near your ear, his voice slipping under your skin. "You're a little slut, huh?" "Fucking two guys"
His voice doesn't even sound cruel, instead it sounds like he's amused. It makes your breath catch hard enough to sting. The back of your throat clenches, your eyes prick up, and you absolutely hate the way your body betrays you. "N-no," you whisper, shaking your head so quickly it looks childish. "I'm not. I just...I made a mistake."
Jay scoffs behind him, you don't even have to look at him to know he's rubbing a hand over his jaw, trying not to show how much that tiny moment affected him.
Sunghoon stays exactly where he is. His lashes lift, eyes dragging over your face, cataloging every reaction you're trying not to have. The smugness softens into something warmer, almost patient, though not remotely kind.
"A mistake," he murmurs, like he's testing the shape of the word, still folded up like he's waiting for you to lie again.
Jay cuts in, voice irritated. "Back up and let her breathe, man."
Sunghoon doesn't move. He just watches the way your lashes tremble, the way you swallow too hard, the way embarrassment and panic knot together in your chest.
"Relax," he says. "If you were really a slut, you wouldn't be crying about it."
Jay steps closer now, irritation changing into something more protective without him even meaning to. "She's upset. Don't talk to her like that."
Sunghoon finally leans back an inch, eyes still locked on you. "She's not upset because of what I said." And he's right. You're not upset cause he slut shamed you, you’re upset because you're cornered and exposed.
You're trying to blink the tears back fast enough to pretend you have even one scrap of dignity left, but Jay is already stepping in with this sigh that sounds like you've personally exhausted his last surviving brain cell. "Hey, hey...don't cry, doll."
His voice softens in that way he only uses when he actually likes you more than he claims. He thumbs a tear off your cheek, jaw tightening like the sight pisses him off. "We'll go. It's fine. You don't need this right now."
You nod a little, so desperate to take the exit he's so graciously handing you, but Sunghoon laughs under his breath like the idea is adorable. "I'm not going anywhere."
Jay instantly stiffens. "And why the fuck not?"
Sunghoon lifts a bored brow at him. "Because she texted me, genius."
Jay bristles. "She texted me too." He says crossing his arms now, competitive streak flaring. "I'm not leaving her alone with you."
Sunghoon gives a lazy shrug, like he expected exactly that. "Terrific. Then we're all staying."
He looks at you directly, eyes dropping to your mouth like he's already imagining having it shut. "Well? Better put on a movie, Y/N. We're having a sleepover."
Jay scoffs so hard it sounds close to a laugh, one without humor though. "A sleepover? Yeah, okay, man."
Sunghoon flops on your bed, picking up your plushie and playing with it. You can feel Jay step closer to you, you can also sense his irritation and jealousy mixing into something reckless.
And before you can tell him to stop, before you can even decide if you want him to, you feel his hands on your waist and his lips on yours. He doesn't quite ease into it, one second you're inhaling, thinking of the next thing to say, the next his tongue is in your mouth. The kiss is rough enough to even hurt, you can feel his jealousy and anger through it, he's clearly not handling finding out that you're fucking someone else very well.
Your lips still part for him on instinct though, you can't stop the gasp that comes out of you as his mouth moves against yours, so obviously putting on a show for the other person in the room right now. You can taste the faint sweetness of whatever energy drink he had earlier and the mint gum he chews when he's restless.
His thumb is rubbing a small circle at your hip, it's not tender, it's more like he's grounding himself while staking some unspoken claim.
Jay drags his mouth off yours slowly, teeth pulling your bottom lip in the process, he clearly wants Sunghoon to feel every millisecond he's taking with you. His hand stays on your waist a beat longer than needed, thumb pressing into your hip possessively. Your lips are still parted, breath unsteady, when he asks, "You wanna just go to my place?"
You hear Sunghoon snort instantly, this sharp breath of disbelief that borders on a laugh. "As hot as that was," he says, sitting up slightly straighter on your bed, "you're not taking her anywhere."
Jay's brows lift. "Oh yeah?" "Fucking watch me."
Sunghoon completely ignores him, his eyes stay locked on you instead, flicking down to your lips in this deliberately slow move. "Where's my kiss?"
You frown. "W—What?"
He raises an eyebrow. "You kissed him." His chin jerks slightly toward Jay. "Don't I get a kiss too?"
You feel yourself hold your breath, waiting for Jay to explode the way you expect him to, to tell Sunghoon he’s lost his whole damn mind, but he doesn’t. He doesn't shove Sunghoon off your bed or drag you out of the room. Instead, he just looks frustrated, very annoyed at the situation, but not at you.
His tongue presses to the inside of his cheek but he meets your eyes and gives you the smallest nod, you barely even see it. You’re not sure if it’s permission or him just refusing to back down, like he’s trying to show Sunghoon he won’t be affected if you kiss him too.
Your heartbeat is going wild in your chest, your legs are shaky as you make your way to Sunghoon, his long legs spread just enough to look like an invitation he knows you'll take. His arms uncross slowly, hands resting on his thighs as he watches you approach, eyes hooded and hungry in a way he really hasn't bothered hiding since he entered your room.
Sunghoon looks up at you with a deep smirk. "Hey there, pretty thing," he murmurs as your throw your leg over his hips to straddle him. His hands come up to your hips and his nails immediately sink into your skin like he's trying to punish you a little. You dip your head lower so your lips can meet his and immediately they do, one of his hands reaches up to grab you by your neck, the other comes up to grab your tit through your tank top, making your nipples harden and when he notices, he pinches it hard and that makes you moan into his mouth. He's so mean.
He’s kissing you so aggressively, more aggressive than he’s ever been like the current situation is the excuse he’s using to be this rough with you. Not that he was ever soft before.
His tongue is rubbing yours in a way that makes you dizzy, then he pulls off and attaches his mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking on that weak spot where your neck meets your shoulder even Jay doesn’t know about, hands coming to your back to pull you flush against him. You can barely stop the second one that comes out of you, it’s loud—this one even louder
He pulls back just a breath, lips ghosting yours just a little, eyes looking wickedly entertained. "Figures," he says and you can see it in his eyes he knows you’re bracing for what he’s about to say. "You're just a whore for Park boys, huh?"
Your breath catches, his words making you feel hot all over. You even hear Jay snort behind you, all resigned and still irritated, like he wants to disagree but he can’t. "Not wrong," he mutters, making you snap your head back to him, just in time to see him running a hand through his hair. "Not even a little bit."
Sunghoon turns your head back to him with a hand at your chin, kissing you again and laughing softly into your mouth, probably from how much you’re shaking in his lap. His hands on your waist drag you forward more and you feel his hardened cock right between your legs, where your panties are rapidly growing damp.
"Yeah, you feel that?" He asks quietly, you nod cause you do feel it. "Mm? You want it?" He’s teasing you now. Your pulse pounds. You want to deny it, push off him and make him and Jay leave but you can't. Not with him looking at you like that, so instead you nod.
His thumb strokes the side of your waist, almost gentle, almost reassuring, except the smirk on his mouth kills any ideas of softness. "Admit it then." He says
"A—Admit w..what?"
"Admit…you texted both of us here…cause you wanted two cocks tonight," Sunghoon presses, leaning in to kiss the corner of your lips, slow and deliberate. "Right, doll?" Mocking the nickname Jay called you earlier.
Oh fuck, Jay.
You suddenly remember him in time to feel your bed dip from him kneeling on it right behind you, his hand pull down the strap of your tank, exposing your breast to Sunghoon—a sight he’s more than happy to take in.
"Hmm fuck, your body makes me so hard, baby." You gasp at his words cause what the fuck? He never talks like this, that’s when you realize his eyes are actually on Jay, who seems to be so focused on taking your tank off completely, and he succeeds. "Fuck yeah," Sunghoon breathes now that your entire chest is literally in his face.
"Admit you did this on purpose and we’ll fuck you the way you so desperately want." Jay says, trailing a finger down your spine.
"Yeah, do what Jay says." Sunghoon teases, both hands groping at your chest—a stark contrast to the gentle touch Jay gives.
How can you admit it when it’s not true? You really only wanted one of them here that being Jay but the heat of both of them, the way Sunghoon is subtly rubbing the outline of his cock between your legs and Jay doing the same thing on your back, it all has you admitting something that isn’t entirely true.
"I—I wanted this," "Please fuck me."
"You’re gonna have to be louder than that, babe," Sunghoon laughs.
"I wanted this, Hoon. Stop being so mean."
"You’re right, okay? Just fuck me already." You’re clearly done hiding how bad you actually want both of them to take you right now. You’re reaching between your body and Sunghoon’s to palm at his cock, looking back at Jay before speaking, "You know you want to."
Your tone is an attempt to regain some sort of control, but it really feels like you’re grasping at straws here. How you wished your body wasn’t so responsive to both of them right now so you could give off the unbothered energy you really want to give—all efforts are futile. Especially when you feel Sunghoon’s hand skimming the waistband of your patties.
"Don’t use that tone with us, baby. You’re the reason we’re both here." He says, watching your face for a reaction to his touch. "He’s right. You really should be more apologetic." Jay adds, "Right, Hoon?" That earns a laugh from Sunghoon when he hears the nickname he’s really only let you call him.
"So right. She doesn’t seem very apologetic to me." "Did you even say sorry yet?"
"I did! I literally did!" You cry out, continuing to paw at Sunghoon’s length, "I said I was sorry!"
"When? Do you remember that, Jay?"
"Nope."
Are they…ganging up on me? The thought is dizzying, both of them are meant to hate each other, maybe even fight over you, but here they are—hopefully about to fuck you but not only that, they’re working together?
Fuck my life. You think. Or at least fuck me.
Maybe Sunghoon can hear your thoughts and he tries to put you out of your misery, his hand reaches past your waistband, immediately finding you absolutely soaked and dripping. "Would you look at that. Naughty aren’t you?"
He teases, as you feel Jay’s hands reach forward to pinch both your nipples.
It’s all too much but in the absolute best way, two of Sunghoon’s fingers press against your clit and you involuntarily jerk forward, immediately trying to grind on his fingers. "Eager little thing." Jay quips, "I know, right?" Sunghoon answers, rubbing little circles into your clit now, you’re embarrassed by how fast he’s got your belly winding up.
"Oh my God! Hoonie!" You moan out when he slips his long middle and ring fingers into your sopping hole, they immediately start prodding that spot that’s doesn’t to have you even more embarrassed very soon. You dig your fingers into his shoulder and try to stifle another moan, dropping your head forward. That’s when you feel a hand grab your face and tilt your face upwards, you don’t even have time to process what’s happening before Jay is kissing you.
Your neck is twisted backwards so your lips can meet his and his fingers at your breasts are relentless—pinching and tugging the perky nipples, "Mmpf—J—Jay!" You scream into his mouth, you’re really about to cum like this. Sunghoon is curling his fingers so perfectly, his pace is so perfect from obvious practice and your hips are chasing them. "Always so sensitive. You’re about to cum, right?" He asks, you pull off Jay lips to look Sunghoon in his eyes, nodding at his question as tears pool in yours.
"Yes! Yes! I’m gonna c—cum! P—Please don’t stop!"
He knows, maybe that’s why his thumb finds your clit, fingers pumping in and out of dripping cunt, fingers pinching your sensitive nipples and a thumb at your clit rubbing quick circles? Yeah you never stood a chance, so you ride Sunghoon’s fingers, your hips moving on their own, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach until it snaps and you’re seeing stars, cumming with a cry leaving your lips.
"Ah fuck! I’m cumming—fuck—I’m cumming!"
"Shiiiit!" You go on and on, while Sunghoon works you through your orgasm, "There you go, baby."
Your back arches and you can't stop the way your legs are shaking through the last wave of your orgasm. You don't really have the chance to try though cause the next thing you know Jays hand is in your hair, pulling slightly as he maneuvers you so face him completely. You're off Sunghoon's lap now, you're next to him so you have a good view of him licking his fingers clean.
"Come on, suck me off baby." Jay says, pushing his sweats down, Sunghoon does the same, giving himself slow strokes as he watches you lean on your hands so you're on all fours now about to take Jays cock into your mouth.
"Impressive." Sunghoon says, titling his chin to where Jay is now tapping his dick on your outstretched tongue.
"You too." Jay smirks.
Their sizes really do rival each other and you don’t know who’s actually bigger, no time to think of any of that though cause Jay shoves his cock all the way down your throat, until your nose is rubbing his pelvic area. "Oh fuck," he moans pulling back a little only to thrust back in finding a steady rhythm of fucking your face, you almost wonder why he said ‘suck me off’ when he was just gonna use your mouth how he pleased, you’re not complaining you love when he fucks your face.
You will yourself to repress your gag reflex so his cock can go all the way down your throat the way he likes, you hear a faint "That’s so hot." from Sunghoon, as his strokes himself faster.
"You’re not going to fuck your fist till you cum right?" Jay asks him, "When you could just fuck her pussy." You can see his face through your teary eyes but you know he’s smirking, you can practically hear it. His groans grow louder and filthier as he cups your throat just to feel the press of his cock sliding through, you sputter a bit but he doesn’t care, he’s already adjusting you, dragging you forward a little to make space for Sunghoon to get behind you. "Go on then."
Sunghoon wastes no time, immediately getting behind you and lining his hard cock with your pussy that’s still quivering from the orgasm he just ripped from you. You whimper around Jay when you feel the press of his weeping tip push inside your walls, stretching you open more than his fingers could, you can feel the immense amount of precum all along his length and it makes your toes curl.
You’re so overwhelmed—getting your mouth and pussy fucked at the same time, you start to wonder why you haven’t done this before. Sunghoon pulls out leaving only his tip in, only to slam back in again with a grunt, "Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this tight little pussy."
"Tell me about it." Jay chuckles, you attempt to reach up with one hand to stroke his dick, just to make him cum faster but Sunghoon is thrusting so fast now it has your whole body jolting forward, forcing you to take Jay’s dick down your throat. You have no choice but you muster up all the strength you have to push Jay back by his hip, you cough and try to catch your breath but Sunghoon has started hitting all the right spots when you feel his hand come down harshly on your asscheek. "Why’d you push him?"
You cry out, taken over by the pleasure of him fucking your pussy so good, "Oh! Fuck!." "Sunghooooon."
Jay laughs at you, putting a hand in your hair to make you look at him. "So pretty," he smiles at you, slapping your cheek to get you to open your mouth and take him again but you’re moaning too much, slamming your hands on the mattress cause goddammit it feels so good, two hands on you, two eyes, two cocks. "It’s so deep!"
"W—Wait! Hoonie!" "You’re gonna make me cum!" You scream as your hands give up on you, making you fall forward against Jay, he catches you easily and pulls you up slightly, hand wrapped around your neck.The new angle make Sunghoon’s thrusts sloppier. "Oh fuck," he groans and you cry out something completely incoherent, you feel a hand, you don’t even know whose reach for your clit, slapping it relentlessly and you scream.
"No!—Fuckkk—No! Pleaseeee."
"Oh my God! My pussy! It’s so deep!" You keep telling them, not that you need to but you don’t stop announcing you’re going to cum, "I—I! Gonna cum!" And then it happens, Sunghoon’s thrusts become more erratic cause he knows you’re gonna cum any second now, he’s groaning, pounding into you faster while trying to hold off on his own orgasm.
You feel the slaps to you pussy follow with little circles then slaps again, this is easily the best orgasm you’ve ever had, your thighs shake as you feel your belly burst with a few strokes of Sunghoon hitting that delicious spot inside you. Your vision blurs going white at the edges as your whole body trembles. "Yes Yes Yes!" It’s so good, too good.
They prolong it for as long as they can, Sunghoon keeps thrusting as much as he can without cumming himself, even though you can feel him pulsing inside you just on the verge of blowing himself, Jay’s hand doesn’t stop slapping and rubbing your clit until you have to physically remove him yourself.
"Jay please," you plead as Sunghoon pulls his cock out of you with a groan, it’s red and leaking you’re so sure. You wonder why he didn’t just cum inside you like he usually does. Maybe he’s trying to show off in front of Jay by in essence edging himself, you can’t even think for too long cause you hear Sunghoon speak but not to you, "Wanna switch?"
They’re not done?
Of course not, neither of them have cum.
You want to protest but Jay answers him before you can, "Fuck yeah."
"You can take another one, right princess?" He asks you and you don’t even think it through before nodding, "Good girl," one of them says—you don’t know which. You’re being manhandled into a different position and before you know it you’re straddling Jay while he lays back on your pillows, Sunghoon is on his feet, standing by the edge of the bed, dick dangerously close to your mouth waiting for you to open up.
"Lift for me, baby girl." Jay says, attempting to adjust you and line his cock up with your pussy, at the same time you feel Sunghoon’s hand squeeze your cheeks making your mouth form an ‘O’ he thrusts the leaking tip of his cock in, only the tip and you suck on it before he pulls out again, urging you to keep your mouth in that shape.
But instincts takes over and your tongue starts lapping around him, licking and slobbering up all the precum leaking from him. "Mm, you tryna make me cum baby?" He groans, throwing his head back with a hand in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, you swallow around him trying not to focus on the fact that you've never really given him that many blowjobs before, maybe twice or thrice. You want to use this as your opportunity to show yourself to him but you don't even get the chance because you feel the bulbous tip of Jay's cock as he sinks you down onto you.
You'd think having just taken Sunghoon, you'd have loosened up a little but no, the stretch of him is insane, almost like he's splitting you open, you try to not sink down so much but he drags you lower until your clit is rubbing his pelvic area, the sensation is unlike any other. You feel so full, having both your mouth and pussy stuffed, and if you know Jay—which you do, you know he’ll be bouncing you on his cock in no time.
You’re trying so hard to focus on working your tongue all over Sunghoon but the Jay has started moving, thrusting his hips up to meet yours and holding you place when you try to run from his cock. "Still so fucking tight." Jay says through his teeth, his pace is so slow you almost want to start bouncing on him yourself, and you do. You move your hands from where they’re stroking Sunghoon to brace them in Jay’s chest, dropping your hips at a faster pace and meeting his thrusts.
Sunghoon never leaves your mouth, even without your hands you’re managing to pull some sounds o you’ve never heard before out of him, "Fucking hell. She’s like a little fuck bunny huh?" He asks watching the way you’re at this point fucking yourself in Jay’s cock, "Tell me about it, she’s gonna make me cum." Jay responds, holding your hips to try to slow you down but his words have ignited something in you.
"Cum Jongie. Please cum. Want your cum." You say, mouth popping off Sunghoon before he shoves his cock back inside again. Jay kisses his teeth and you see his abs tightening, you know he’s close, you can feel it in the way he’s throbbing inside your pulsing walls.
You pull off Sunghoon again to scream when Jay delivers a particularly sweet thrust that has you seeing stars, "Jay! Yes! R—There! There! Right fucking there!" You wail, nearly falling forward in him but Sunghoon holds you up and you remember you’re supposed to be sucking him off. You immediately take him in your mouth again, sucking and swallowing around him the best you can with the powerful jolts of Jay’s thrusts shaking your whole body. And even when you feel like it’s not enough you still manage to pull a moan from him, "Ugh, I’m gonna cum." He says, squeezing his eyes shut.
Jay is groaning with his head thrown back, "Pussy’s so good. Fuck—Just like that baby." You bounce harder, suck sloppier even when you feel your stomach tighten with the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, all it takes is a few thrusts of Jay inside you and you’re cumming for the third time in one night. Your body spasms and you sob on Sunghoon’s cock, tears spilling out of your eyes as your orgasm tears through you, it almost feels too big for frame with how overstimulated you are.
You feel Sunghoon pull out at the same time Jay pushes you off him, you land on your knees only because Sunghoon holds you up by your hair, stroking his cock in your face, "Open your fucking mouth." Jay says, getting on his feet and stroking himself in your face too, you obey, sticking your tongue out just enough to feel a splatter of hot cum land on it, you don’t even know whose cause you can’t open your eyes, but they’re both groaning and you can hear the fap fap fap of both their hands working themselves.
"Ah shit."
"Mm yeah. Fuck."
They absolutely paint your face, cum lands on your nose, on your eyelids, your cheeks. it drips down in what you believe is an obscene sight for them.
"So damn gorgeous." You hear one of them say as you fade into unconsciousness from the exhaustion.
"Isn’t she? We should clean her—"
You don’t hear the rest of it cause you’re out of it already.
── .୨ৎ
It took almost two weeks for your life to return to anything close to normal, almost two weeks of glitching when you feel the ghosts of the hands of two boys who have definitely ruined you for anyone else. You tried to keep things normal between you three. You don’t even address it with Sunghoon at all, and with Jay he keeps teasing around the topics with jokes that never quite hit the nail on the head.
The common denominator between them though, is that you haven’t seen either of them in those two weeks, except when you spotted talking in front of the business building a week ago, like they were friends before you or something. It had sent you into a bit of a panic—the thought of them becoming friends. You were texting them separately within minutes like "When did you two become friends?" "Are you serious right now?" "Don't act like this is normal—HELLO???"
Sunghoon had sent a single laughing emoji and Jay called you dramatic. Their consensus? Relax.
So you did, at least that’s what you’re trying to do, your dorm looks deceptively calm for the kind of week you've had. The soft yellow lamp on your vanity casts everything in that warm, flattering glow you rely on before a night out, your mirror reflects you leaning forward, steadying your hand as you apply some concealer under your eyes.
You sigh and lean closer to the mirror, applying your lip gloss—the one that matches your Friday night persona. You're blending in your concealer when you hear a sharp and familiar knock at the door.
Three taps that make you freeze for a second, not out of fear, just out of...annoyance and something hotter you choose ignore that.
You open the door, fully ready to say, "What do you want now?" because there's only one person who knocks like that.
Sunghoon stands on the other side, eyes meeting yours as you open your door, hands in his pockets. He gives you that grin that always feels like a prelude.
"Sunghoon—" you start, backing up a little cause he looks like he’s about to pounce on you. And you’re right, his hand slides to your waist, and he moves to kiss you but your hands shoot us to his chest to push him away, "You’re gonna ruin my fucking makeup, Sunghoon!" "Get off."
He absolutely ignores you, hand coming to grab your face and you squeal cause you know you have no setting spray on, "Poor you, your makeup’s all fucked up." "Now you can’t go anywhere." He pouts, mocking you and squeezing your cheek just to ruin your face even more.
"You need to leave. I have plans." You manage to say.
"Mm, I can see that." He mumbles, catching sight of your dress and shoes laid out and ready for you to put on. "Too bad Jay’s on his way already."
"W—What? What did you just say?"
"Oh yeah, he’s like five minutes out." He’s so nonchalant about it, about the fact that they planned to meet up at your dorm room again, this time intentionally and you know damn well it’s not to have a fucking movie night.
He sees the panic in your eyes and smiles like he just pulled the meanest, sexiest card in the deck. He lets go of your face and wraps his arms around your waist, "What's with the face?" he murmurs. "Thought you liked it when we're both around."
You writhe in his grip, caught between a flare of heat and a spike of panic. "Sung—why would you—did you guys seriously plan to meet up here?"
He just shrugs, brushing a thumb across your cheek like he's cleaning up the smudges he made. "Didn't think I needed your permission."
Before you can form an argument—hell, before your brain can even reboot another knock comes, Sunghoon smiles at your expression like he's enjoying it, which he is.
"You gonna get that," he asks, tilting his head, "or should I?"
nene’s note: i’m sooooo happy to be done with the semester for the year, so i can do some more writing. if you’re reading this i hope you liked it! please leave a comment, i love feedback 💋
To everyone else, you’re Jake’s girlfriend and picture of innocence—soft spoken, always with a smile, the type to bake cookies and kiss him goodbye on the cheek. His friends are sure he’s not getting what he needs, and they don’t hold back their advice for him to cheat, flirt, find someone who’ll actually put out. Jake doesn’t even bother correcting them, cause not only are they wrong, they’re wildly off the mark.
nsfw warnings: SMUT, toxic male friendship dynamics, back-talking, gaslighting, multiple rounds of sex, overstimulation, oral (m & f receiving), creampie, fingering, light breathplay, praise kink, mild degradation, anal play (established dynamic), light powerplay, hair pulling, dirty talk, cockwarming, light possessiveness, squirting, soft dom/sub elements, and begging. 7.9k
Jake Sim is...hard to explain.
If you ask around, you'll hear a thousand different versions. Jake Sim is hot. Jake Sim is an asshole. Jake Sim is the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. Jake Sim is the guy who'll flirt with you all night, fuck you into the mattress, and then forget your name before the sun even rises. Jake Sim is a player, a charmer, he's the guy everyone warns everyone about always a little too late.
And to be honest? they're not exactly wrong. Jake is the kind of guy who makes a mess just to see if someone else will clean it up. The kind who smiles like he knows all the answers to everything and doesn't care to share them. Jake's never had to try hard for anything—not attention, not girls, not the kind of casual popularity that clings to people like him for no reason other than sheer gravity.
He floats through life on charm and instinct, making trouble look too effortless.
Well, not until you.
You never belonged in Jake's world, like not even a little bit. You didn't chase parties or post thirst traps. You weren't loud, or flashy, or easy to figure out. But you were soft spoken and self contained, always in those oversized knit sweaters and delicate little necklaces. You said "pardon?" instead of "what," and you never once looked at Jake like you wanted anything from him. In fact you never looked at him at all.
Maybe that's why he couldn't stop staring, because you didn't orbit around him like everyone else did. You truly just existed in your own world and you didn't give a toss that he was attractive in the way that made people act stupid. You were genuinely kind, irritatingly kind Jake would say, and it made him feel like a walking glitch in your perfect little universe.
He was the kind to ghost girls. You were the kind to remember everyone's birthdays. He blew off midterms sometimes. You sent people your notes when you noticed they weren't in class.
You weren't his type in any sense and he sure as hell wasn't yours. But that didn't stop him from going after you anyway.
It didn't stop the way he'd linger outside the library when he knew you were in there, with his eyes low and his fingers twitching. It didn't stop him from getting your number from someone he'd never even spoken to in his life but he saw them speak to you once and that was enough for him. It didn't stop whatever this became—this quietly consuming, slow burn kind of obsession that made Jake Sim, the most unserious, nonchalant boy in the world, go dead serious when it came to you.
So dead serious that he made you his girlfriend quicker than you could think to even consider saying no, and goddamn if you didn't love him and the intensity of it all too.
The promise ring he asked you to be his girlfriend with was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. You remember how red in the face he was, a little awkward too, holding out a tiny velvet box.
You'd slipped it on without hesitation, and now it lives on your finger, always warm from your skin and twirled endlessly whenever you're anxious or shy or thinking a little too hard. Jake watches you do it sometimes when you're talking to him, or even when you're not. It makes his chest tight in the best way possible.
You're still not officially living with him. But your things are everywhere, all over his apartment. Your makeup clutters the edge of his bathroom sin, your slippers sit beside his sneakers at the front door, your clothes even hang in his closet, slowly but surely taking over, and your lacey panties end up in his laundry pile more often than not—a discovery Jake reacts to every time like it's Christmas morning.
He swears he loves it, all of it, all of you.
He loves the way you hum to yourself when you cook, loves how you taste everything off the spoon and make him do the same thing. He loves waking up to the smell of something sweet in the oven, loves hearing you sing along to songs you think he can't hear from the other room. He loves the softness you bring into his space, it’s like his whole apartment exhales when you're in it.
And right now, he's trying not to smile like an idiot as you leave the tray of cookies fresh from the oven on the coffee table for him and his friends, they’re still warm and rich with the scent of vanilla and browned butter. The boys dive in immediately, tearing into them like they've been starving all day.
"Dude," Sunghoon mumbles with his mouth full. "What does she put in these?"
"Crack," Heeseung says, reaching for another. "Crack cocaine, I’m so damn sure."
Jake just smirks, watching you tidy up in the kitchen with your hair pulled back, phone in hand before heading toward the living room again, eyes already on him.
"I'm heading to the mall with my friends," you tell him sweetly, swinging your purse over your shoulder and leaning down to kiss one cheek, then the other. "Don't eat all the cookies before I get back." You tell them even though you know it’ll all be gone by the time you’re back.
Jake smiles up at you. "No promises."
You glance at the guys. "Enjoy, boys."
"Thanks, sweetheart," Sunghoon replies automatically, and Heeseung raises his cookie in salute.
The door to the apartment shuts behind you and the silence gets loaded.
Jake barely has time to reach for another cookie before Heeseung squints at him over the edge of his glass and says, "Okay but like...how often do you jerk off?"
Jake blinks. "What?"
"You know," Heeseung gestures vaguely. "When she's not around. Or even when she is. Like, how bad's the drought?"
Jake frowns. "What are you even—"
"Come on dude. She bakes, she cleans, she kisses your cheeks like a fucking disney character," Sunghoon says, shaking his head like he's genuinely concerned. "And she's got you wearing a promise ring, bro. Be serious."
Jake raises an eyebrow.
"She's your girlfriend, not your chastity coach," Heeseung adds, mouth full. "It's okay to like her, man. Be whipped or whatever, but every guy's got needs." He does air quotes with his fingers at whipped.
"Exactly," Sunghoon nods. "You're telling us you haven't cracked once? Eight months and she's still playing house instead of playing with your dick?"
Jake laughs.
It's low and easy as he tosses a cookie up in air, catching it in his mouth like he doesn't have a care in the world. "You guys don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
"Oh, come on—"
He doesn't let them finish.
Just shrugs, wipes a crumb off his jeans, and leans back against the couch cushions with that same frustratingly calm grin. Not confirming anything or denying either and definitely not offering a damn thing more.
And maybe that's what gets them most. Sunghoon is about to continue with his drilling but the apartment door bangs open and Jay barrels in like he was trying to break the door open.
"I had to park three fucking blocks away—why are there so many delivery trucks on your str—" He stops question when he spots the half empty cookie tray and Jake's face. "Ah. What’s going on?"
Heeseung and Sunghoon exchange a look that says perfect timing.
Sunghoon jerks a thumb toward Jake. "We're staging an intervention. Lover boy here claims he hasn't touched himself for eight months because little miss betty boop apparently doesn't—"
"Dude," Jake warns, voice flat.
Heeseung dives in anyway. "We're just saying every guy's got needs, and she's not exactly—" he twirls a hand, searching for a polite word and failing—"open access."
Jay slumps into the couch slowly, suddenly wary. "Okay, first? Why is this our business? Second, she literally did my laundry when I was half dead with the flu last month. She's an angel—"
"Exactly," Sunghoon interrupts, irritated that Jay isn't backing him. "She's too angelic. Jake's basically wasting away. I know a girl who wouldn't care that you’re taken—she'll rock your fucking world, no strings."
Jay's eyebrows shoot up. "Bro, are you actually telling him to cheat? That's fucked up."
Heeseung waves him off. "Look, pastor Jay, spare us the sermon. We’re being practical."
Jay crosses his arms. "Practical? Or fucking sleazy?"
Sunghoon's jaw tics. "Fine, keep your halo. I'm trying to help our boy here."
"Help?" Jay snorts. "You're insinuating his girlfriend's a prude and pushing him toward some side piece because you can't fathom a relationship that isn't twenty-four/seven fucking."
Heeseung lets out a low laugh. "Prude? She's sweet, yeah—but let's be real, she's a little stuck-up. Bet she makes him say please and thank you before he even—"
"Enough."
His voice isn't loud, but it's close to lethal and it make the room still. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on Heeseung. "Don't talk about my girlfriend like that."
The silence is as thick as caramel.
Heeseung opens his mouth, thinks better of it and just shrugs instead. Sunghoon raises both hands in a mock surrender. "All right, all right. We're just looking out for you, man."
Jake sits back, expression unmoving except for the tight belt of muscle along his jaw. "Appreciate the concern but drop it."
Jay exhales, tension easing from his shoulders as he snags a cookie. "Cool. Crisis averted. Let's talk about literally anything else—basketball, stocks, the weather—"
But the mood has unfortunately shifted too far. Under the warm scent of sugar and butter, something colder threads the air, like a line drawn or a warning given.
Jake breaks off a crumb, flicks it onto the tray, and doesn't say another word.
The hangout's pretty much dead, even though they try to shift the conversation, try to joke but nothing lands. Not with Jake sitting there, stiff as a statue, jaw tight, barely looking up. Heeseung's chewing slower, the cookies don't taste as good anymore, and Sunghoon keeps checking his phone like there's somewhere else he needs to be.
Because there is.
Anywhere but here that’s for sure.
Jake's not even yelling, but does he have to? The way he's gone quiet should be enough. He's not laughing at their dumb jokes, not biting back with sarcasm like usual. He’s just sitting there on his own couch like he doesn't even recognize it.
Jay finally clears his throat. "Uh...I should probably get going. Early shift tomorrow."
Heeseung stands. "Yeah. Same." He doesn’t even have a job.
Sunghoon mumbles something about traffic, already halfway to the door. No one says it, but they all feel it, feel the vibe shot and Jake's silence holding the smoking gun.
Jay lingers a little longer near the door. He glances back, eyes softer than before. "Hey...sorry, man. I’m sure they didn't mean for it to go there."
Jake doesn't look at him. Just rubs the heel of his palm into one eye. "Yeah. Whatever."
Jay nods once and doesn't push. The door clicks shut behind them, and Jake's left alone in the quiet. He slumps back on the couch, eyes drifting to the half empty cookie tray on the coffee table.
You made those for them.
And they still had the audacity to talk about you like that. To reduce you to some outdated stereotype of some sweet, doting, sexless girlfriend he must clearly be suffering through.
The door creaks open a moment later, and you waltz bouncing with happiness, arms overflowing with shopping bags. You toe off your shoes at the door, grin still plastered on your face as you make your way inside, the scent of your perfume trailing behind you like sunshine.
"Babyyy," you call out cheerfully. "You will not believe the sale I hit today."
You find him on the couch, slouched deep into the cushions, hoodie up, face shadowed by the TV glow and a silence that immediately makes you feel like something is wrong.
Your grin falters. "Jake?"
He turns his head toward you, offers a weak smile that’s just a twitch of his lips, not the real one that crinkles his eyes and melts your stomach.
You pause at the edge of the couch, looking at him, then the table, at the cookie tray that’s half full. There’s not a crumb in sight on the cushions or floor, which is odd because the boys always devour them like wolves.
Your heart sinks a little.
Something is wrong.
Without a word, you gently set your shopping bags down and crawl into his lap, settling your weight carefully over him, but his hands stay limp at his sides. He doesn't even tuck them around your waist like he always does. Doesn't nose into your neck or murmur a "missed you."
You touch his face, frown deepening. "Jakey..." you whisper, brushing his hair off his forehead. "Talk to me. What happened? You were fine when I left."
He shrugs once and his eyes stay distant, so you lean in and kiss his cheek, then the other, then his forehead, then the corner of his mouth but still nothing.
You press a soft slow kiss to his lips and his eyes flutter shut for a second.
He finally breathes out a sigh at that, like you've loosened something that was wrapped too tight in his chest.
"Just..." he mumbles, pulling you in by the waist now, finally holding you, finally here with you. "Some stupid shit with the boys."
You lean your forehead against his. "Hmm…what kind of stupid?"
He shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, jaw still ticking. "Doesn't matter."
"It matters if it makes this face," you say, gently pinching his pout. "Talk to me, baby."
He sighs again, but this time it's softer and a little less bitter. For a second, he just holds you, arms snug around your waist, your fingers in his hair, the scent of fresh cookies and the ghost of something ugly lingering in the air between you.
But at least you're here now and he’s already starting to feel better.
"They were just..." He swallows, jaw clenched. "Saying shit. About you. About us."
You pull back just a little, just enough to look into his eyes, head tilting softly. "Like what?"
He doesn't answer at first, he just presses his lips together like the words taste unpleasant on his tongue.
"That you're too sweet," he says finally. "Too innocent. That I must be struggling. That I'm not getting...what I need." He can't even say the rest while looking at you so his gaze drops to your collarbone. "Sunghoon even suggested that I should cheat. That he knew some girl who wouldn't care if I had a girlfriend."
“Jay was different though, he wasn’t having any of it.”
Your breath stutters just a little, but it’s enough that he notices and enough that it makes his stomach drop.
There it is—your face crumpling, it’s not dramatic, it’s like your heart folded in on itself for a second, and you're working quickly to iron it flat again.
Jake hates himself for putting that look there.
But then—God, your smile. It comes immediately after and it’s soft and unshaken.
"That's really shitty," you say, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. "But it doesn't matter what they think."
Jake's eyes flick up, searching yours for any signs of insincerity.
"You know that's not true," you continue. "Right?"
He nods, slowly. "Of course I do."
"Then that's all that matters," you whisper. You lean in and kiss his forehead again, warm and reassuring. "Maybe you just need to reevaluate your little bro club. Pick the ones who don't suggest cheating on your girlfriend over cookies she baked for them."
Jake exhales a breath of a laugh, tension starting to ease from his shoulders.
You smile again, a little sly this time. "Honestly, I always liked Jay more than the rest, anyway."
Jake huffs through his nose. "Yeah?"
You nod. "He defended my honor. What a man."
Jake finally smiles, real and wide and completely helpless. "I love you."
"I know, baby. I love you too." You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Now help me carry in all my bags. I got new panties." You say and push off him and that shuts him up fast, he’s already standing and following you into the bedroom like a possessed man, with eyes that gleam and hands that twitch, absolutely thrilled to see what you spent his money on.
You're already pulling out bags, giggling as you place each one on the bed like a dramatic little fashion show.
"Okay, ready?" you ask, grinning as you kneel on the mattress, surrounded by tissue paper, paper bags and receipts.
He flops down beside you, eyes wide, nodding like this is the first time you’ve done this, it’s not.
You hold up a dainty little silk top. "Cute, right?"
"That’s so hot, princess."
Followed by a miniskirt. "Too short?"
"No such thing."
He leans back on the bed, hands behind his head, watching you with an easy smile as you sift through your shopping bags, showing him more of what you got. He doesn't even bother hiding how proud he is watching you flaunt everything you bought.
You hold up a cute little white dress next. "This one was kinda expensive..."
Jake hums, eyes raking over you. "Worth every cent if you're wearing it."
You snort, but you're smiling as you slip it over your head. You smooth the fabric down and twirl once. "Do I look like someone's sugar baby?"
"You are someone's sugar baby," Jake grins, "you just cook too well for it to be obvious."
You giggle, tugging the hem down before sighing. "Okay, I'm not about to stain this with lipstick or lotion—hold on."
You casually peel the dress back off and toss it onto a nearby chair, standing fully naked in front of him without a second thought.
He lets his gaze drag slowly down your body, the same way it always does when you’re naked in his presence, so lazy but heated and familiar. Like he knows every inch of you by heart and never gets tired of seeing it.
"C'mere," he says, voice so deep, you already know what’s on his mind and you barely take a step before he's already got his hands on your waist, pulling you into his lap so he can have you straddling him, arms wrapping around his neck, and he just leans in, pressing his face into your skin, right at the curve of your neck.
"You always smell so fucking good," he tells you, lips brushing your collarbone. "And you're warm."
"I'm always warm," you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair.
He grins into your skin. "Yeah. Especially when you're on top of me like this, titties in my face and everything."
His lips trail along your collarbone, soft and slow, and his hands stay steady at your waist, thumbs pressing into the dip of your back, holding you in place
You sigh when he kisses your neck, just below your ear, and he feels the way your body softens in his lap, you're melting just for him.
He nips your jaw, then lower, moving his mouth down your throat, so warm and unhurried, open mouthed kisses skating down your chest until he reaches one of your breasts, wrapping his lips around it with a low groan like he's finally getting something he's been craving all day.
You arch into him instinctively, fingers curling in his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple—lazy at first, then firmer and hungrier.
"Jake," you whisper, breath catching a little.
He hums against you, sucking slow and deep, one hand sliding up to cup the other side, thumb circling with the same rhythm his mouth sets.
Your hips shift without meaning to grind down unto him, and he catches that too, cock already hard beneath you.
"I’m so fucking in love with you," he mumbles into your skin, kissing across your chest to the other side.
His mouth stays wrapped tightly around your nipple, sucking on it so hard you moan a little, then he continues trailing wet kisses over your chest, his lips drag down your sternum before slipping one of his hands between your thighs. He's lazy about it at first, tracing idle circles against the inside of your thigh, like he's in no rush, or like he doesn't already feel how warm and wet you are sitting right on top of him.
You shift your hips, needing more, trying to grind down on him, but Jake just smiles against your skin. "Getting needy already, baby?" he murmurs, moving your panties to the side with two fingers, knuckles brushing deliberately light against your folds, teasing. "You're already wet," he mutters, almost to himself. His thumb grazes just barely over your clit, featherlight. "You know what that does to me?"
You whine and he grins like he's won something. But then his grin falters when you grab his wrist and hold it still.
Your voice is soft. "Jake."
He glances up at you.
"Stop teasing."
Before he can say anything back, you push firmly at his chest with both hands and he lets you. Lets himself fall back onto the mattress with a small gasp of surprise that turns into a breathless laugh.
"Shit," he laughs under his breath, one arm behind his head now, the other resting on your thigh. "You don't even let me pretend I'm in control anymore, huh?"
You raise a brow as you settle over him properly, your hands moving down his torso, nails dragging just enough to make him tense.
He bites his lip, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, already drunk on the way you’re naked above him and so sure of what you want.
Jake's always had game. He's had his fun, knew what it meant to chase and win. But with you? With you, it's never been a game.
Your palm works him over his cock through his sweats, slow and deliberate, your thumb catching the outline of him through the fabric just right, and Jake's head tips back into the pillow with a strangled sound, breath hitching like he absolutely cannot help it.
"F–fuck," he whimpers, hips twitching up into your hand. "I love you. I'm so in love with you."
You lean down, nuzzling your nose against his cheek, voice soft and syrupy as you coo, "Yeah? You love me, Jakey?"
He nods fast, his chest rising and falling hard beneath you, completely gone for you already, and you hum sweetly like you're proud of him, almost like you're indulging a boy who's trying so hard to be good.
You tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, just enough to free his cock, and he lifts his hips obediently, still panting.
And when you finally pull him out, your eyes widen.
"Oh my god," you gasp, like you haven't seen him a hundred times before.
Jake lets out a breathless laugh, flushed and glowing with affection. "You do that every time," he grins.
You wrap your hand around him, giving one firm, languid stroke, eyes still fixed in reverence. "It shocks me every time."
Jake groans, both hands flying up to grip your hips now cause he needs to hold on to something, as if the worship in your voice is just as dangerous as your touch.
"Baby," he breathes, already dizzy, "please..."
His hands tighten on your hips. "My heart," he says, breathless but steady, "can you sit on it for me?"
Your brows lift in teasing surprise. "You asking nicely now?"
He leans up, kisses the swell of your breast before dragging his mouth to your neck. "Please," he murmurs against your skin.
You giggle, glancing down between your bodies where he's hard and leaking pre cum against your stomach. You drag your fingers over his tip and grin when he twitches. "Jakey, I don't know...it's so big. Not sure I can take it."
He lets out a full bodied groan and his hands shoot up to cover his face like your words physically broke something in him. "Fuck—don't say that."
You laugh, warm and wicked, and reach down to line him up with your pussy.
He peeks through his fingers at you, eyes dark and glassy. "You know what that does to me."
You lean in, kiss his jaw and whisper, "I do, baby." Slowly sinking yourself down on his cock, and Jake's mouth falls open around a gasp so needy it makes your stomach flip.
All his confidence and playboy charm melts into raw want for you. And you know he wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world, so when you settle fully on him with you clit nearly brushing his pubic bone, you gasp at the stretch like it's brand new, even though he's been inside you more times than you can count.
Jake watches with blown pupils, biting down on a groan as your walls flutter around him. You're breathless, clutching his shoulders, eyes glazed and already starting to tremble from how deep in your cunt he hits.
But it's still you who says it first, voice all sweet, whiny, and almost demanding. "Please fuck me, Jakey."
That’s truly all he needs and he doesn’t even hesitate, his hands lock under your thighs and he drives his cock up into you, fucking you from below with a pace so sharp it knocks the air from your lungs. The slap of skin on skin fills the room instantly, his hips pistoning up into yours like he's making up for every second he ever spent apart from you.
You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders, clinging to him as your head tips back. “Oh!—Just like that, baby!”
"You take me so well," he pants, staring up at you with so much love and adoration. "Always do. So fucking good for me."
You can't even answer cause with every snap of his hips, your body jerking helplessly every time he hits that spot inside you just right and you're jus too far gone, moaning as your thighs start to tremble,
Your moans get higher, needier, and Jake just holds you tighter, fucking you harder like he knows you're getting close. “Ah—Shit! I love this pussy—I love you.”
And the you whimper his name in that high pitched tone, he already knows what’s coming.
"Jake...Jake, please..." He groans, lifting his whole body and head to kiss you through it, breath hot and desperate against your mouth.
His hand slips between your bodies without thinking too much, fingers finding that sensitive little clit and the moment he starts rubbing tight, practiced circles into it, your whole body jolts, your hips stutter as well as your breath.
"Jake—" you cry out, the sound thin and wrecked as your orgasm nears.
"I've got you," he says, voice husky and strained as he keeps thrusting up into you. "Come on, baby. Cum for me."
Your eyes roll back, mouth falling open as your walls clamp down hard around his cock. You never had a shot, not with his cock so deep and thick inside you, not with his fingers rubbing so deliciously at your clit.
Your orgasm slams into you with a force that makes your back arch and your nails dig into his shoulders, shaking as pleasure floods your veins. “Oh my—F-Fuck! Jake! I’m cumming! I’m cumming for you!”
You're moaning his name like it's the only word you know, clenching around him so tight he practically growls.
"Fuck—you're so tight—" Jake's hands grip your hips, fingers digging in. "Gonna cum, baby—gonna fill you up—"
He snaps his hips up one, two, three more times before burying himself deep with a sharp gasp, thick ropes of cum spilling inside you as he lets out a low, trembling groan against your shoulder. “Just like that, take it baby.”
His whole body tenses, as he continues to fuck his cum deeper into your pussy, before melting beneath you and wrapping his arms around your waist cause he needs to come back to earth.
You sit there on his cock, fucked out with your body is still twitching from aftershocks, then he sits up presses a soft kiss to your collarbone and speaks, almost dazed, "I love you. You know that right?."
Your chest heaves just like his as you try to catch your breath as well, your skin is dewy and flushed, thighs still trembling slightly where they cradle his hips. Jake lies beneath you, hair stuck to his forehead and completely ruined and glowing in the aftermath.
His cock stays buried inside you, still thick but it’s starting soften and warm from his and your cum.
Jake's eyes are barely open when you start to move again, just with slow and lazy rolls of your hips, like you're testing him, like you already miss the stretch. His eyes snap up to meet yours, wide and glassy.
"Baby..." he rasps, voice rough with the tail end of his orgasm. "Again?"
You nod, bottom lip between your teeth, hands planted firmly on his chest as you grind your hips just right. He twitches inside you, not fully hard yet again, but your walls squeeze around him like you're coaxing him back to life.
"Need you hard again, baby." You whisper, a little whine slipping into your voice. "Want more."
Jake actually groans but his hands flying to your waist regardless, it’s not to stop you, it’s to anchor himself.
"You're insatiable," he mutters, head dropping back on the pillow. "You know that?"
You giggle breathlessly, grinding down again. "But you like it, don’t you?"
He laughs, weak but wrecked, already feeling himself swell inside you again. "Fuck, of course I do, you know I do."
He’s already giving in, letting you use him, letting you move how you want, letting you chase what you need. Because you always take what you want from him and Jake fucking lives for it.
His finger squeeze your waist as your hips keep rocking against him, slow but hungry and so greedy, so fucking sweet about it, whining for more when he's still soft and sensitive. It has his head spinning.
"God, you're gonna kill me," he groans, voice low and shaky.
But you just smile down at him, hips grinding insistently, eyes all sparkly with mischief and need.
That's what does it.
He sits up with a sudden growl and grabs your thighs, flipping you onto your back in one smooth quick motion that makes you squeal and giggle. Before you can protest, he's sliding your leg up, hooking it over his shoulder and settling between your thighs again, his cock already twitching back to life as it presses against your slick pussy.
"Since you don't know when to stop..." he mutters, leaning over you, forehead pressed to yours, breath hot against your lips, "guess I'll have to fuck it out of you."
You gasp, fingers digging into his arms as he ruts forward slowly, stretching you out and you're still so wet and swollen around him from your first orgasm that he slips right back in. A shaky moan tumbles from your lips as he bottoms out, and Jake watches your face melt with satisfaction.
"There she is," he breathes, cupping your jaw. "Always so ready for me."
You try to sass him, you open your mouth with something smug, but then he draws his hips back and slams back in deep, and all you can do is cry out and clutch at his arms. “Jake! Fuck!”
He grins. "Yeah? You like that, baby?"
With your leg slung over his shoulder, every thrust drives his cock in at a perfect, punishing angle, he’s so deep it punches the air from your lungs, makes your head tilt back and your fingers claw down his back.
"Yes Jake—"
He groans low at the sound of his name from your lips, fucking in harder and rougher now, one hand gripping your thigh, the other pressing down beside your head.
"Fuck, baby," he pants, voice wrecked and breathless. "You feel so good—so tight, still?"
You're barely holding on, moaning so high and needy with your eyes fluttering. "Because I want you all the time," you whisper, drunk on the stretch and the rhythm of him. "Wanna fuck all the time."
Jake curses, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. "That's fucking insane," he gasps, his hips jerking for a moment. "You're—Fuck."
You hold him tighter, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as your leg slips from his grip, both feet now planted flat so you can rock up to meet every thrust. Your mouths meet in a messy kiss, full of panting breaths and whispered "I love you"s between the moans as he fucks you into the sheets.
You gasp, "Oh baby, please don't stop," he just nods frantically, already lost in you all over again.
His thrusts slow as he feels your body start to tighten again, that telltale tremble of both your orgasms building. You're gasping his name, legs shaking on either side of his hips, hands gripping at his arms so hard he’s sure you’re gonna leave marks.
"That's it, baby," he pants, breath hot against your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours. "You gonna cum for me again? I can feel it—fuck, you're squeezing me so tight—"
Your nails dig into his shoulders and your voice breaks. "Jake—Jake—I'm—"
He doesn't let up his thrust, he continues to fuck his cock into your cunt deeper and faster. "Make you cum for me. Let me feel it."
Your back arches, mouth falling open in a soundless cry, and then it hits again and your whole body jolts as you gush your release around him, warmth flooding between your legs. Jake groans, deep and raw, watching you as it happens.
"Holy shit, baby—look at you," he breathes, eyes glued to where your bodies meet. His fingers slip down instinctively, sliding through the mess of cum and squirt and pushing two inside you with ease, curling them so deep, you jerk under him, overstimulated, crying out, but he's grinning like he's the one being worshipped.
"Yeah baby," he rasps, fucking his fingers into your cunt so fast and deep, he's coaxing out every last tremble, every aftershock. "You're so fucking perfect—fuck, I love when you do that."
You're whining, twitching beneath him, but not stopping him either and he knows you won't, especially when you don't even pause to catch your breath. You're already pushing up, hands slipping against his sweat-slick skin, eyes glassy and blown wide with lust.
"Baby—" he starts, but you're pushing him on his back again and wrapping your mouth around his cock in one desperate and hungry motion.
Jake chokes on a moan, his head falling back with a thud against the pillow. "F—fuck, baby..."
You're still shaking from your own orgasm, but your mouth sucks him so good with your lips stretched wide and your eyes fluttering shut as you take his cock deeper in your throat that tightens around him. He's still wet from you, slick and throbbing on your tongue, and the mix of it all makes your head spin.
"Jesus—shit," Jake growls, both hands fisting in your hair as he begins thrusting into your throat, fast and controlled, his hips twitching as he groans through his teeth.
"You're—fuck—you're gonna make me cum," he breathes, voice strained, eyes locked on the obscene sight of you between his legs with your cheeks hollowed, looking so fucking pretty even now.
You hum around him, fingers digging into his thighs for balance, tears prickling at your lashes as he hits the back of your throat again and again. He swears under his breath, tightening his grip in your hair, one hand cupping the back of your head as he starts to move a little rougher, chasing that high you're dragging out of him like it's yours.
"Fuck—just like that—don't stop—don't—"
"Y/n—Baby." He groans, jerking into your mouth as he cums hard, hips stuttering, holding your head down on him while he spills down your throat.
His hands fall away, and you finally pull back, swallowing his cum with a soft gasp. Your lips are swollen and your cheeks are flushed but you're smiling up at him cause to you, you've done nothing out of the ordinary.
"Holy shit," he whispers, grinning up as you flop half on top of him and on the bed.
His skin is warm, still damp from sweat, and his voice is soft and sweet when he starts talking.
"We should go to the farmer's market tomorrow," he says through breaths, turning his face toward you with a sleepy smile. "Get that jelly you like. Maybe brunch after...or just come back and stay in bed all day."
You hum in agreement, eyes half-lidded as you turn to face him. "Mhm. That sounds perfect."
He's still talking, "We could also check out that new restaurant you wanted to try—" Then he feels your leg slides over his, bare skin gliding against his thigh as you spread yourself open beside him. His voice stutters, pauses, but he doesn't think much of it until your hand finds his.
Still speaking so sweetly, like he doesn't even notice what's happening, Jake continues, "And maybe get stuff for dinner too. We could try that new reci—"
You take his hand and slowly guide it down your stomach, between your thighs...but instead of stopping on your pussy like he expects, you slide his fingers just a little further back.
He stops talking and his brows knit. "Wait..." he breathes, lifting himself onto one elbow to look down at where you're gently positioning him, not quite shy, but quiet.
"Oh?" His voice lifts a little, soft and surprised, fingers frozen in place.
"Here?" he asks, tilting his head, eyes searching your face.
You nod, biting your lip, pupils wide, cheeks heated, just the tiniest bit nervous but far more excited. Jake's heart patters at the sight.
He blinks, then lets out the softest, most reverent little, "Fuck," as his fingers twitch against your hole.
He goes still for a second before glancing down at you with a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Jake huffs a soft laugh, rubbing his fingers gently where you've placed him. "You really want that again?"
Your lips part in a quiet sigh. "Mhm. Haven't stopped thinking about it."
He grunts in his throat, already adjusting his position to hover over you, his hand still between your thighs. "God, baby...you're unbelievable."
"Please," you whisper.
Jake leans down, kissing your neck with a grin. "Okay, baby."
Jake does exactly what you ask without question, without teasing this time, without dragging it out. Just the steady glide of his fingers, slick with you, working your hole open with practiced care. He knows what you like now. Knows how to curve them just right, how much pressure to apply, when to slow down and when to ruin you.
You're shaking under him, body arching, fists gripping at the sheets. Your eyes flutter back and your mouth falls open but no real words are coming out, just breathy, broken sounds that melt into helpless little moans.
"Fuck, princess," Jake breathes, watching your face like he's obsessed. "Look at you."
You're drooling and you don't even care. Your brain's gone soft and syrupy, babbling nonsense, hiccupping between whines. "So full...s'too good, Jake— I—"
"You can," he murmurs, curling his fingers deeper. "You asked for it, baby."
You whimper hard at that, thighs squeezing around his hand.
Jake leans down, kissing your jaw, your ear, whispering all the filth you crave like praise. "My pretty girl. So greedy for me, huh? Couldn't even wait. Got your fill twice and now you want more."
"Need it," you mewl, "need you— please, please—"
"You have me," he says, voice thick devout as he strokes his own cock back to life, and pushes it in your hole just enough to have you gasping again, moaning as your body clenches hard around his cock.
His thrusts start slow, so deep into you and deliberate, loving the way you squeeze around him and trying not to lose it too fast. Every push forward is a grind of his hips and a filthy exhale against your skin.
But then he hears that sweet little whine you make and he feels your fingers dig into his back, he loses all his patience.
"That's it, baby," His voice is shaking. "Doing so good."
Then his pace starts to speed up, his hips snap harder and sharper. Each thrust makes the pressure mount, your breath hitching as your body rocks forward with every stroke. He holds you firmly, one hand pressing into the mattress, the other one at your hip—dragging you down so his cock can slide deeper and deeper into your ass.
The drag of him against your walls is so intense, even his hips are starting to jerk erratically in their movements, his body slick with sweat, every nerve in him frayed and completely on fire, but he doesn't stop. He can't. Not when you're shaking like this beneath him with tears in your eyes from how good he’s fucking you, so good that you're clawing at him.
He's already come twice and his body sore and overstimulated, but none of it matters cause he has to make you cum one time.
"C'mon, princess," he pants into your neck, his voice is bordering on a little whimper now, "need you to cum for me—give it to me, yeah?"
You nod, your fingers digging into his back. "Jake—I'm—I'm close—"
"I know," he says, sliding a hand between your bodies, thumb immediately circling your clit just the way he knows you like it as he continues to fuck your ass faster and harder, his rhythm never faltering even when his whole body twitches from the overstimulation.
"Fuck—!" you cry out, eyes squeezing shut, thighs locking around him.
Jake moans when he feels you start to clench again, the grip of your body making him curse into your skin. "That's it. Just like that. Be good for me, baby—cum for me."
Your body listens to him and you cum so hard and loud, you’re nearly sobbing through it, your whole body shaking as you gush your release around him again.
Jake groans like he's in pain and pleasure all at once, overstimulated out of his mind but still working his thumb through your orgasm, riding it out with you, whispering, "That's my girl. So good for me. So good."
He's trembling too, face buried in your neck, still inside you, still twitching, but all he cares about is the way you're still falling apart in his arms.
"You've got one more in you," Jake whispers, lips brushing your cheek. "I know you do. Be good for me, baby. Just one more, yeah?"
You're still shaking with how hard your third orgasm just rocked you, but you nod, because you know he knows exactly how to touch you that’ll have that fourth orgasm he wants dragged it out of you.
"You know," he says, lips curling into something darker, "the guys still think you're some sweet little thing who doesn't even let me touch her."
Your eyes snap open.
"They really think I'm suffering over here. Poor Jake, dating the world's most innocent girl," he chuckles in your ear, his fingers pressing harder, cock thrusting faster and faster just the way you need. "Wonder what they'd say if they saw you like this."
"Jake—" you gasp, nails raking down his back. "Don't— don't say that—"
"Why not?" he groans, barely holding on himself. "Look at you. Fucking soaked for me. Begging me to fuck your ass. Taking my cock like this—over and over."
You're gone, completely unraveling under him with your hips bucking, your back arching and a scream caught in your throat as you fall apart, wet and messy and uncontrollable.
Jake watches it all with a dark, fucked out smile, his lips on your cheek as he whispers, "Yeah...real fucking innocent, huh?" His words slam into you like a wave. You arch off the bed, fingers tangling in the sheets, mouth falling open in an enraptured cry.
"Fuck!" you sob, hips bucking involuntarily around his hand and his cock. "Oh god—Jake—"
You're shuddering and everything going white at the edges, and then you cum again, for the fourth time. You squirt around his fingers and cock again, every muscle spasming as you cry out his name again and again, lost in the release.
Jake drops his mouth right where you’re squirting so he can get some into his mouth and suck down on your clit, to guide you through each quaking wave. One of his hands trails back to finger your ass while the other one strokes his cock until he cums into the sheets.
“Yes baby—Oh shit!”
His tongue keeps tracing delicate patterns over your clit and your whole pussy that keep you teetering on the edge even as you ride out your climax before pulling back and looking down at you.
When you look up at him, he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out, then he drapes himself over you, chest slick against yours, breath heavy and shallow as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
"Baby..." he starts, boneless and spent. "You're insane."
You giggle, tracing lazy circles along the curve of his spine, still catching your own breath.
He gave you everything, held you down and pulled you apart until your body trembled under his, until he had nothing left to give. And now he's here, lips brushing your collarbone with every exhale, trying to hang on to consciousness.
"We should try double penetration." You say, running your fingers through his hair and feeling his body stiffen at your words as his head lifts slightly to look into your eyes.
"What?"
You grin. "You know. Your cock and a dildo. Just once."
Jake's eyes flutter close and open again, the look he gives you is somewhere between bewilderment and disbelief. His mouth opens like maybe he wants to say something, but doesn't even know where to start.
"Princess," he breathes, collapsing back down on top of you with a dramatic groan. "You might actually kill me one day."
You hum sweetly, threading your fingers through his damp hair. "You'd like it."
"I know I would. That's the problem." He grins against your skin. "Let me survive tonight first."
You laugh, soft and warm beneath him, already thinking about which toy you'll pick and feeling his breathing go even.
He falls asleep like that, with his arms wrapped around you, utterly spent, murmuring something about needing to train for you like it's a sport. And as you run your fingers through his hair, smiling to yourself, one thing's crystal clear.
Jake's friends have no idea just how completely undone he is by you.
➺ a/n: who wants a boyfriend like jake? MEEEEE!!!!
omg the facesitting w sunghoon during a fight…NEED a jake version if possible 🫣
SIT THE FUCK DOWN —- SIM JAEYUN
sunghoon ver
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boyfriend!jake x bratty!reader | smut | porn w no plot | argument turns feral | face sitting | overstimulation !! | breathplay
summary: A stupid argument turns into something a lot filthier—and Jake refuses to let you win.
wc: 1456
warnings: face sitting, degrading praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, crying, power play, light bondage (holding wrists/thighs), oral (f. receiving), nose/clit pressure, ass grabbing, slapping, filthy talk, emotional dumbification, possessive behavior
masterlist | wattpad
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“Maybe if you actually listened—”
“Oh my god, Jake. It’s not that deep. It’s literally not that deep.”
Your voice cut through the room sharp, sarcastic, and laced with bratty dismissal. You didn’t even look at him—too busy wiping down the counter, aggressively smearing the wet cloth like it was his face you were cleaning.
Jake scoffed from the couch, leaning back like he was trying to physically remove himself from the sheer chaos you were radiating. “You just said you could beat me in what? Mario Kart?”
“I did beat you.”
“Once.”
“Jake. Be serious. I whooped your ass like four times in a row.”
He dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. “You’re so delusional when you win. It’s actually scary.”
You turned, eyes narrowing.
“And you’re so annoying when you lose. What’s that called again? Sore loser syndrome?”
Jake stood up.
“No, I’m pretty sure what you have is ‘Smartass mouth disorder’.”
You gasped.
“Oh?” You tilted your head. “Say it again.”
He stepped forward, towering slightly, smirking. “Smart. Ass. Mouth.”
You squinted. “Do you wanna fight me or fuck me right now?”
Jake didn’t flinch. “Little bit of both.”
The room dropped into a silence that was way too charged for something that started over Mario Kart. You could feel the tension radiating off his body like heat, like static before lightning. And he looked at you like he was trying so hard not to throw you over the couch.
You turned your back again. “Don’t talk to me.”
“Then stop talking.”
“I’m literally not even—”
“You’re still talking.”
You whipped around, ready to snap, but Jake was already walking up behind you, cocky as ever.
“You know what?” you muttered, brushing past him, heat crawling up your neck. “You talk too much.”
He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. His voice dropped.
“Oh? Then sit on my face and shut me up.”
Silence.
Your breath caught.
You stared at him, wide-eyed.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. Just said it again, slower this time, rough:
“Sit on my fucking face.”
You blinked. “You’re not serious.”
Jake took a step closer.
“You’ve been running your mouth all night, baby,” he said, fingers trailing up the side of your thigh, his palm skimming under the hem of your oversized shirt. “Let me show you what I do to girls with loud mouths.”
Your thighs clenched.
“Jake—”
“Couch. Now.”
Your jaw dropped, but he was already sitting down, already pulling your wrist forward.
And when you didn’t move, frozen like your brain had short-circuited, he looked up from the cushion with a low, devilish murmur.
“What, you scared?”
Your pulse stuttered. You weren’t scared.
You were fucking feral.
Your thighs twitched as Jake leaned back, legs spread on the couch, arms draped across the top like he wasn’t seconds away from being suffocated by your pussy. His eyes locked on yours with that smug, lazy challenge head tilted back, tongue pressing into his cheek like he could already taste you.
“You started this,” he murmured, watching your every move, “now be a good girl and finish it.”
Your shirt dropped around your thighs as you climbed onto the couch, slow, tense, straddling his lap—but he didn’t touch you. Not yet. Just watched. Smirked.
“You’re so cocky for someone who’s about to get smothered.”
Jake’s eyes darkened.
“Yeah?” His voice dipped. “Prove it.”
You rose up, sliding higher, knees digging into the couch cushions as you moved over him—not on his lap anymore, but higher. Past his chest. Past his stomach. Until your thighs were framing his head, your cunt wet and barely covered under the thin fabric of your panties, hovering above his mouth.
Jake’s breath hitched audibly.
And then he fucking growled.
“Oh fuck yes,” he exhaled, dragging his hands up your thighs, fingertips digging into your skin as he looked up at you like you were a goddamn religion. “Sit the fuck down.”
You hesitated for half a second.
Then sank.
His mouth met you like it was starving—hot, wet, desperate. Tongue sliding over the fabric first, slow and filthy, before he groaned and yanked your panties to the side, burying his mouth into your pussy with a shameless moan that made your spine arch instantly.
“J-Jake—fuck—”
He didn’t stop.
He devoured.
His tongue dragged up your slit, flicking over your clit with cruel precision before sucking hard, locking his arms under your thighs to keep you in place. You tried to lift, overwhelmed, but his grip tightened.
“Nuh-uh,” he murmured into your cunt, voice muffled and soaked. “Told you. Sit. Don’t fucking move.”
Your head fell back with a broken moan as he licked deeper, tongue fucking into your hole, mouth sloppily open like he needed all of you.
And when he pulled back for half a second, face glistening, jaw clenched?
“God,” he panted, “this cunt was made for my mouth.”
You whimpered.
He slapped your ass. Hard. Then dragged his tongue flat up your folds again, nose bumping your clit, wet and messy and ruthless.
“You wanna talk shit?” he growled, pulling you lower again. “Then cum on my tongue and shut the fuck up.”
And you did.
Shaking, grinding, moaning his name with your thighs trembling around his face as he sucked your clit through your orgasm like it was his only fucking job.
Your hips twitched.
Jake didn’t stop.
His eyes flicked up, smug and dark and feral.
“One’s not enough,” he said, licking his lips. “You’ve got more.”
And his mouth dove back in.
You whined, high-pitched and breathless, thighs shaking uncontrollably as his mouth latched back onto your cunt like it was his lifeline.
“J-Jake—nngh—wait— I can’t—”
“You can.” His voice was ruined and wet, dragged from somewhere deep in his throat. “You will.”
He flattened his tongue and licked up your slit hard, sucking your clit back into his mouth and moaning as your hips jolted forward with a helpless cry.
Your whole body trembled.
You tried tried to lift yourself, knees pushing, palms digging into the couch arm, but Jake growled, wrapping his arms tighter around your thighs and yanking you down like he owned you.
“I said sit,” he snarled against your pussy. “Fucking stay down.”
His biceps flexed, locking you into place, and his tongue didn’t stop for a second sliding, flicking, then fucking into you like he wanted to feel your walls pulse around every goddamn inch of him.
“J-Jake—fuck, Jake I’m gonna—please—” you sobbed, writhing above him.
Your pussy clenched.
Your thighs squeezed.
And then it happened.
Your whole body snapped.
A broken, shattered scream left your lips as you squirted all over his mouth soaked him, your release gushing messily over his chin, down his neck, splashing onto his shirt. He groaned, long and filthy and obsessed, drinking you in like he wanted it, like it was his.
“Fucking Christ,” he growled, rubbing his face into your pussy like a madman, tongue dragging through the slick as you keened above him, trying to squirm away desperate, twitching, overstimulated.
“Can’t—Jake—too much—”
Your thighs jerked, your hips twisting away—but he held you tighter, hands gripping your ass so hard it burned.
“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was hoarse, drunk on you. “You squirt again. You fucking soak me again.”
“Jake, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You fucking can—” he huffed against your clit, licking mercilessly as your legs thrashed, “—look at you. Dripping. So goddamn wet. All for me.”
You sobbed, delirious.
He shoved two fingers into your pussy and curled. Your whole body convulsed.
“JAKE—!”
Your release hit again, harder this time—violent, soaking the bottom half of his face as he grunted and held you down, forcing you to ride it out on his tongue while your body shook above him like he’d broken you open.
“That’s it,” he whispered, licking every drop, “that’s it, good fucking girl.”
You collapsed forward, body limp, thighs still twitching, barely breathing.
Jake looked up at you from between your legs—face dripping, eyes black, lips swollen.
And then he grinned.
“Still got that mouth on you?” he murmured. “Or did I finally shut you the fuck up?”
a/n: js blame this gif, i had to write a lil something for jake, hope you guys like it!
“You’re really fucking bad at this,” you muttered, tossing your cards onto the table with a smirk, “you’ve lost three hands in a row.”
Jake narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched as that cocky grin of his slowly reformed when he leaned back in the armchair. His shirt was long gone—thrown across your room right after the second round, and now he sat there in nothing but his jeans, his thighs spread like a goddamn invitation for you.
“I’m the one losing and yet,” he drawled, clicking his tongue, “you’re the one sitting there with your nipples hard and thighs clenched shut.”
“Confidence doesn’t suit losers, hm?” You said, rolling your eyes, though you were painfully aware of the wetness pooling in your panties.
“It’s not confidence y’know? It’s experience. I know how it’s gonna end.” He took another sip of his beer, eyes fixated on you.
You shifted on the rug, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting, “yeah? Tell me, psychic, how does it end?”
“With you naked,” he said simply, using that deep sultry voice of his, “and sitting on my lap.”
Your stomach tightened at the casual certainty in his voice, he was way too overconfident for his own good, which had you scoffing. You tossed him his cards and dealt the next round before you could think too hard about how right he probably could be, only for him to lose—again.
“Wow,” you said, dragging the word out. “That’s four in a row. This might be your new record, Jakey.”
He simply stared at you from across the table, bottom lip bitten and red now. You knew that look so well—the very one he used to get when he was right on the edge of snapping, of fucking you dumb.
You nodded at his jeans, the last thing he had on, well, besides his boxers, “guess that confidence’s wearing pretty thin now, huh?”
He said nothing, just reached down and undid the rest of his fly, eyes locked on yours. The sound of the zipper was enough to make your stomach flip. Then he stood up, sliding the denim down over his thighs, kicking them off without breaking eye contact.
You wondered why you even let him into your apartment, your obsessive ex. With a gulp, you looked away, especially after staring at his body, the one you’d seen endless times. What’s worse was that Jake caught it, the way your gaze dropped, something that boosted his already inflated ego as just sat back down, spreading his legs even wider, letting you look. Letting you see how much you’d already fucked with him.
“Deal,” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected, however, this time, your hand was trash and Jake’s grin turned wicked when you set your cards down.
“Off,” he said simply.
You sighed, “be specific.”
His eyes drifted to your waist, then back to your face, “panties.”
Heat cascaded across the expanse of your skin. Still, your fingers slipped beneath the waistband and eased them down, letting them fall at your ankles before stepping out of them. You sat again, bare, pretending this wasn’t already getting out of hand.
Jake exhaled like he’d just had an orgasmic experience, “fucking knew it.”
“Knew what?” you snapped, though your voice came out softer than intended.
“That you were already soaked,” his tone deeper with satisfaction, “that you wanted me the second I walked in.”
You opened your mouth to deny it—then shut it again because your body betrayed you anyway with the way your breathing changed, the way your thighs shifted again. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, close enough now that you could feel the heat of him.
“One more round, yeah?” He murmured, “winner calls the shot.”
“And if you win?” you asked.
He smirked, “you sit on my lap while we finish the game.”
Your heart hammered, “and if I win?”
“You can keep pretending you don’t want to.”
You dealt again, and to your absolute bad luck, you lost, looking up at him now, while he just crooked a finger, voice full of lust and satisfaction, “c’mere.”
It was really infuriating how cocky he was, how he always came back and you let him, despite everything that happened. God, you really hated him, “I’m not your dog.”
“You sure about that, pup? Come here.” He gave you a look, making the whole situation worse, but a bet was a bet, so you simply ignored his comment, moving forward.
His hands were on you instantly, dragging you down so your bare cunt settled right against the thick length beneath his boxers as you bit your lip to prevent any sound from coming out.
“Fuck,” he muttered, chuckling, “there she is, good girl.”
“Don’t—” you started, but your voice faltered when he rolled his hips slowly, pressing your clit right against him.
He smirked, “yeah, exactly that.”
His mouth brushed your jaw as his hand slid lower, fingers parting you like he always did, “another bet,” he murmured, “if you fall apart on my fingers before the next shuffle, you admit you still want me.”
You scoffed, ready to argue, but then he pressed two fingers inside you, and the breath left your lungs in a rush. His thumb circled your clit lazily, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you, and he probably did.
“Still tight,” he whispered, thrusting again, knuckles nudging that soft spot he’d always known how to find. You tried to glare at him, tried to hold onto your hate—but your hips chased every curl of his fingers, slick sounds reverberating the room.
“Tick tock,” Jake teased, kissing the corner of your mouth while his fingers worked you open, faster now, thumb grinding down until your thighs trembled against his. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into skin, swallowing little gasps you refused to give him.
“There she is,” he said softly, “go on, lose to me again.”
And you did—falling apart on his hand, body pulsing around his fingers while he watched you fall, smug and so pleased with himself.
“Told you, darling,” he murmured against your lips, “experience.”
SUMMARY: Ever since your boyfriend Jake transformed from his nerdy high-school self into the university's star football player, you've become everything you thought you’d never be. Jealous. Anxious. Clingy. But Jake really doesn't mind your newfound possessiveness. He encourages it, even. So when he defies expectations again to star in a musical with a stunning costar, you spiral. Now, the “lowkey” relationship you once insisted on gets jeopardized under the weight of your own insecurities.
PAIRING: popular!jake x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 26k+
GENRE: secret!relationship au, university!au, grumpy gf x sunshine bf (?), smut, angst, fluff, some toxic themes
WARNINGS: mdni, nsfw, porn with plot, tsundere!reader, lowkey crazy!reader, whipped!Jake, lowkey masochist!bf Jake, switch!Jake, emotional constipation, he want that cookie bad, jealousy, avoidancy, football = soccer, unsafe/unprotected sex, cursing, sweat, dacryphilia, storage closet sex, lots of biting/marking, 69, cumplay, jewelry play, begging, failed pull-out method, creampie, squirting, lmk if i missed anything
A/N: Not to pick a favorite child but… I loved writing this fic so much.
a year ago.
It’s the last year of high school, on a relatively normal walk back home. The same cracked sidewalks, the same autumn breeze, the same shy boy matching his steps beside you like he always did. Just like any other day.
Until he decided to ruin it.
“Do you wanna… like, date?” Jake asked suddenly, hands shoved deep into his uniform pants pockets, trying too hard to sound nonchalant. “You know… put a label on us. Or whatever.”
You remember almost running away out of pure instinct, soul escaping your body. But instead, you laughed. Because what the fuck was he on about?
You? Jake? Date?
The two of you were barely even supposed to be friends. He's a straight-A student teachers constantly compared you to, with those thick-rimmed black glasses glued to his face and unkempt bowl of hair. A striker on the football team who watched matches from the sidelines just as much as you did… and you weren't on the team.
And on the other hand, there’s you. Not-so-pleasant you. Considered a troublemaker because you always showed up late to class, talked back to ill-meaning adults, and picked fights with boys who catcalled too much. A rumor spread through school that your dad was a terrifying loan shark with gang ties. He’s a banker.
Assigned classroom cleaning duties was what brought you two together in the first place. It wasn’t fate. Nothing notable. You more or less picked him up on your shoulder and claimed him as a personal assistant. Someone who would fetch you water when you’re thirsty or give you answers to math problems when you were too lazy to solve them yourself.
So why in the world did he think you two should date?
“Who put you up to this?” you wheezed between bursts of cackling. “I’m gonna beat their ass.”
Jake scratched the back of his head, clearly not amused.
“I mean… You and me?” you continued, tears of laughter blurred your vision. “We would make the worst couple ever—”
“I don’t think so.”
You froze mid-step. Jake had slowed his strides down a long time ago, but now he was completely still. You turned to find him a few steps behind, face flushed and hands by his sides.
He’s holding something. A small, turquoise box. One that looked suspiciously like…
You felt like throwing up.
“I-I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he stammered. “What it’d be like if I were your boyfriend. If we… went on dates and stuff.”
Oh, hell no.
It’s like an immediate sense of panic overcame your body. And before your brain could process a single rational thought, you broke out into a sprint. Running down the street like a maniac. In hindsight, you probably should’ve known that you couldn’t outrun an athlete. But you weren’t really thinking, period.
You feel a tug on your waist. Jake had already caught up to you. He spun you around, like the male leads do in those stupid romcoms, and pulled you into him. His face was close. Too close. His glasses slipped halfway down his nose, and a bead of sweat clung to his temple. And it wasn’t from running.
It was from you.
He looked nervous. Ridiculously nervous.
The ring box pressed into your back, and you put your palms sternly against his chest, trying to create some distance between you two. It wasn’t helping.
“Jake,” you warned. “Let go of me or I scream.”
He shook his head, his arms only wrapped tighter around you. “Only if you promise you won’t run,” he replied, a sort of desperation laced in his voice. “And that you’ll listen to what I have to say.”
You bit your bottom lip, suddenly too aware of his intense gaze and how they searched yours through those big, fat lenses. You gave a small nod, not trusting your voice to come out right. The moment his grip loosened, you broke your agreement almost immediately. Your feet moved on their own, like fight-or-flight, as you tried to rush out of his arms. But he was one step ahead of you, grabbing your wrist to bring you back right where you were.
“Really?” he asked, exhausted. “That’s not gonna work a second time.”
You glared, but your eyes betrayed you. They slid down to the turquoise ring box, still in his hand. Jake's eyes flickered in the same direction, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“I can put it away if it’s freaking you out,” he muttered, slipping it back into his pocket. You almost let out a sigh of relief, but not when his large hand was still wrapped around your wrist.
“...Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes fixed on the ground. “Now make it quick.”
Jake's heart constricted. ‘The worst thing she could say is no!’ the internet had told him. This was a lot worse, actually!
“[Y/N],” he started sharply, and the sound of your name on his lips sent shivers down your spine. He released you, only to set both his hands on your shoulders, guiding your gaze up to meet his.
“I… I think—” He stopped, inhaling a deep breath. “No. I know. I… really… really… l-like you.”
His voice was as shaky as his hands, and for a brief second, almost every part of you wanted to knock him out with your backpack because your heart was beating too loud in your chest. It pissed you off. But you held back and just… stared.
Jake, ever the hopeless romantic, had fallen for you the moment you asked him to clean the entire classroom alone while you skipped duties to hang out with your friends. He said yes, only because he has a hard time saying no, especially to someone he found so pretty. But then you laughed and told him you were joking. Told him not to bend over backwards just to please other people. Spent time with him that day when usually, others paid him no attention.
He was enamored ever since.
But the silence between you two was suffocating, heavy enough to stall his breathing. Jake’s palms were growing damp against the fabric of your uniform blazer, and his heart felt like it was ready to fall to the floor. Maybe this was a bad time to do it. Or maybe the ring really freaked you out. Was it too big a gesture? The WikiHow tutorial he consulted had told him to bring a gift, after all.
“Hello?” Jake’s voice cut through your thoughts. He gave your shoulders a tiny shake, trying to pull you out of your entranced state.
“Hm? Sorry… say that again? I don’t think I heard you…”
Jake’s expression fell as he dropped his hands back to his sides in defeat.
“Okay,” he muttered, voice small. It wasn’t worth it. Everything went off script anyway. “Never mind. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
He brushed past you, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his pockets again. He was fidgeting with the ring box, wishing he could throw it into the nearest bushes. God, he felt dumb. So fucking dumb.
Of course you’d say no! He was nobody. Just Jake. Just some guy you latched onto at the start of high school so you could poke fun at him for the next few years and make him pay for your boba addiction. And you, with your cool-ass friends with eyebrow slits and really underground music tastes. You’re way out of his league—
“Jake,” you called out, surprised at how loud your voice could get if you were desperate.
He turned around immediately, wearing such a pronounced pout even from a few meters away. Somehow, seeing his face again made your throat close up. He liked you. He really liked you.
“Say it again,” you demanded, arms crossed with doubt written all over your features. “I need to hear you say it one more time.”
You walked toward him until you stood close enough to see the nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth. Was this it? Would you actually give him a chance? Jake pressed his lips together and inhaled a deep breath to calm himself.
“I like you,” he said as softly as a whisper. “Would you… Be my girlfriend?”
You looked at the ground, feigning a calmness when your mind was racing with thoughts too insane to vocalize. When you finally looked up again, your heart betrayed you. It skipped a beat at the way his gaze fell on yours, wide and hopeful. It almost hurt. He was too bright, too cute.
(Okay, so what if you liked him back. He didn’t have to know that.)
“Sure,” you said, forcing your voice to sound casual. Jake froze.
Then his entire face lit up. Suddenly, he was grinning from ear to ear, jumping in place like a dog begging for a treat. “Really? Like really? You’ll go out with me?!”
He took your hands in his, tenderly. Like he wasn't entirely sure the moment was real. You felt the dampness of his palms first, then the tug of his fingers intertwining with yours, like he had already rehearsed this part of his confession a thousand times in his head. Your cheeks warmed.
‘What a weirdo,’ you thought to yourself. It’s not like he’d just won the lottery. What was he so happy about?
“Just don’t make it weird,” you grumbled. “Keep it on the down low.”
Jake’s smile faltered, brows knitting together so tightly you were sure it’d leave a wrinkle on his cute face.
“Like… you don’t want people to know?” he asked, voice quieter now. You nodded, confused by his confusion.
“Why would anyone need to know?” you asked genuinely. He frowned, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, silently asking you to reconsider.
“Not even Sunghoon or Jay?”
You scoffed. “Especially Sunghoon and Jay.”
“Why not?” he groaned. You just shrugged.
“I don’t want our dynamic to change just ‘cause we’re dating,” you reassured him, letting go of his hands to ruffle his hair. Like you always do when you tease him. Like that would make it all better. “And all that coupley PDA stuff draws too much attention anyway.”
You’d spent years cultivating your intimidating persona, and in your mind, it was simple. No one else needed to know that you were vulnerable to something as cringe-inducing as dating. The other students would only use it against you. For what? Who knows.
But you could just imagine the teasing glances and whispers in the hallways. If Jake were really serious about dating you, surely he’d be understanding of your aversion towards embarrassment. Right?
He didn't seem entirely convinced. At all. “So… what would be the difference then? Between us now and before?”
You sighed and stepped past him.
“It's what we'd do in private, you know?” you muttered over your shoulder. “Kissing and all that…”
You didn’t see it, how Jake’s ears completely reddened or how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His fingers twitched at his side, like he was already imagining what it’d be like to hold you properly. To touch you. To kiss you. Like real couples do.
“D-do you want to see the ring I got you?” he blurted out, catching up to you. “I swear it’s lowkey. It has a ‘J’ engraved inside the band. I got a matching one with your initial, too! No one would even notice if you wore it—”
And you feel your heart thunder in your chest, scaring you into another sudden sprint. “Get the hell away from me, weirdo!”
Your joined laughter echoed down the street as he chased after you. And even though he could catch up to you, he let you have your fun, staying just a little out of his reach.
–
Jake is very good at obeying orders, always has been. Especially after the first few times you glared at him for accidentally reaching for your hand in the cafeteria. He learned fast.
He tried his best not to show affection publicly, no matter how badly he wanted to wrap his blazer around your shivering frame when you would nap during class. He forced himself not to linger near you when you were loitering with your fellow delinquents by the school staircase, laughing at a joke he didn’t quite understand. He suppressed the urge to defend you from teachers who reprimanded you out in the hallways. Tried not to look behind at you for too long during football games he never played in anyway.
Once, someone asked him about his love life, and he instantly turned into a blushing, mumbling mess. And they laughed it off. It was Jake. No one thought twice. He was always like this. Awkward. Flustered.
The parasites he calls friends, Jay and Sunghoon, would probably go into cardiac arrest if they ever found out how he doted on you in private. How soft he was. How gentle.
You pretended not to notice. But ever the observer, Jake sees how your defenses weaken, ever so slightly, each day.
You let him put his arm around you in dark movie theaters instead of yanking it away. Let him stay for dinner with your parents when he comes over to help you study (because lord knows you need it). You stopped flinching when he called you ‘babe’ in private, sometimes responding without even questioning who he was speaking to. It was baby steps, but to Jake, it was everything.
Was it awkward? Yes. The way his glasses got in the way when he finally kissed you for the first time. Your noses bumped together. Too much tongue involved. It was a mess. Still life-changing, nevertheless.
He replays the memory often. The two of you on your bed, him holding your plushie hostage, you trying to rip it out of his arms. The way you fell on top of him with your lips accidentally crashing on his. He pretended like the make-out session that occurred immediately after didn't absolutely ruin him.
Jake edged past the warmer parts of you when no one was around to bear witness. And you both were so good at keeping secrets. No one would have believed it anyway. You’d made sure of that.
–
“You two are very strange,” Jay commented, maybe a couple of months into your secret relationship. Every senior was gearing up for graduation, choosing which universities to attend or which path to take in life.
And of course, Jay and Sunghoon found out that Jake and you would both be attending the same university. Not just any school. A top one. Yonsei.
Jake had earned a full-ride scholarship after finally getting off the damn bench and scoring four goals in a single match against the best high school team in the nation. Jake could've gone abroad to an Ivy League, but he chose not to. Because at Yonsei he could visit family more often, save a lot of money, and… well, keep you close, most of all.
And by the will of a higher being (Jake’s relentless tutoring), you somehow made it in as well.
“I thought you said you wanted to go straight into the workforce,” Jay questioned you. “Now you’re telling me you somehow, in some way, got into the same school as Jake? This fucking nerd?”
Sunghoon chimed in with a smile he always wore before teasing you. “I didn’t even think you could get into college, honestly.”
You wanted to hit him so bad, but you stopped yourself. Your resolution for the new school year was to turn over a new leaf. And that comes with not hitting annoying boys over the head with your fist. You could get arrested for that from now on... So instead, you used your words.
“You’re mad I got in, and you didn’t,” you snorted, sticking out your tongue as Jake snickered beside you. You sat close enough to feel the warmth of his shoulder, but far enough apart to keep Jay and Sunghoon from noticing.
“You guys have no faith in her,” Jake sighed earnestly. “She’s really smart when she applies herself. She just needed a push, that's all.”
You glared at him, not sure if his comment was entirely a compliment. Yes, he played a role in your achievements. No, he could not credit himself for the hard work you put in to get that high-ass score on the college entrance exam. Even your teachers apologized for doubting you.
“Should’ve put those hours of tutoring her into me instead,” Jay groaned. “Now you’re gonna be all alone with no friends.”
Jake’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? S-she’s my friend.”
He stumbled over the words, clearly thrown off by the ominous comment. You watched him, amused. God, he was so obvious.
Sunghoon just looked between you two, doubt etched all over his face. “Barely,” he scoffed. “Trust me, bro, you are getting left behind as soon as she finds another victim willing to pay for all her food.”
You can start your resolution next week. This time, you really smacked him, sharp on his bicep. Sunghoon yelped.
“Why are you always so aggressive?” he whined, rubbing the sore spot with his arm. You raised your hand threateningly again, but you stopped yourself short.
At the corner of your eye was Jake’s soured expression, a flash of worry obviously overcoming him. But you couldn’t comfort him. Not now. You wouldn’t hear the end of it from these two.
“You never know,” Jay chirped, faking thoughtfulness with a hand on his chin. “Jake might be too cool for us once school starts.”
Jay and Sunghoon exchanged a look and then burst into laughter.
“Ain’t gonna happen!” Sunghoon cackled, putting his whole gut into it. You joined in hesitantly, though your eyes kept drifting to your sullen boyfriend. And he wasn’t amused. Not at all.
Because he never found it funny, the idea of you leaving him behind.
–
“Do you think I’m weird?” Jake asked one evening, with you curled up beside him on your bed. Your knee draped over his stomach, his glasses pushed up just enough to rest comfortably against your pillow. On his late-night visits, your parents would come in to check if you two were truly studying as you claimed. After Jake gained their trust, they learned to leave the two of you alone (when they probably shouldn’t have).
Your eyes were shut tight to prepare yourself for an oncoming nap.
“Yes,” you said quickly, not even giving him time to process the response.
“Like… bad weird?” he asked after a second. He’d been thinking lately, after the conversation with his friends, how different the two of you really were.
How easy it was for you to stand up for yourself. Go against the grain. How you don’t automatically default to nods as he does or lose your train of thought mid-conversation. How you hated being touched by most people but would smack someone’s shoulder when you genuinely found something funny.
He wanted that, wanted to see the world the way you saw it. To move around without hesitation. Even when people called you a troublemaker. Even when teachers scolded you for wearing your uniform skirt shorter than the dress code. How was confidence so natural for you?
“Bad weird,” you teased, eyes still closed. “But it’s okay. I’m used to it by now.”
A small ache tugged at his heart. “You still like me though, right?”
You laughed. Jake loved to do this sometimes. Bait for reassurance. But you’re not that kind of fish.
“Who said I ever did?”
You said it jokingly, but a silence followed. You don’t quite catch it as you drift to sleep, the way Jake’s eyes dimmed.
“Oh,” he said disappointingly, staring at the ceiling.
Sometimes, he wondered if the reason you wanted your relationship to be private in the first place was because of him. If his inability to relate to your friends with secret tattoos and chains on their jeans made you embarrassed to be his girlfriend.
Because you got along well with his friends just fine, could tease Jay and Sunghoon like you’d known them your whole life. But it was so hard for him to do the same with yours. To look natural when he joined that one karaoke hangout, where they looked at him expectantly because you had bragged that he could sing well.
You said it so proudly too, and he wanted to prove himself to them. That he was worthy to be in their presence. And then his voice had to crack.
“Should we get your friend some water?” someone joked, and the whole group laughed. With his cheeks red with embarrassment, Jake sat back down next to you, silent for the rest of the night. It was lame of him. Even he knew that.
But even as he watched you defend him with all your heart, he couldn’t find himself to cheer up. Because in your world, he had always felt out of place.
–
And so Jake did what he’s known to do best. Research.
He avoided WikiHow tutorials on how to ask out a girl and headed straight to the most honest part of the internet: Reddit.
‘makeover tips for guys’
‘how to gain more confidence’
‘how to be attractive enough that your girlfriend isn’t ashamed of you (serious responses only pls)’
He frequented the self-help section of the school library, took notes on everything from fashion advice to fixing his posture. He practiced eye contact with himself through the mirror until they watered, joined Sunghoon in the gym, and copied his weirdly intense routine.
Jake kept this process all to himself, much like your relationship. He learned to be good at that. Keeping secrets.
He would reinvent himself for university. Become someone you’d be proud to show off because he didn’t want to feel like this anymore. Like he would fall behind. And knowing you… he wasn’t sure if you’d bother to look back and see if your loyal puppy was still there trailing behind you.
–
present.
So that’s how your relationship’s been going so far. While Jake was on this great journey to undergo metamorphosis, there were no real complaints on your side.
So why was it like this now?
Waiting for your very late boyfriend, who was making you miss the first minutes of the university’s freshman orientation ceremony. You almost text him a paragraph about how, usually, you're the unpunctual one in the relationship, but a stranger approaches you.
“BOO!”
You almost let out a scream when you notice who it is. Or who you think it is. Is it who you think it is?
Because instead of wild, unruly hair hiding his eyebrows and big black frames resting on his nose bridge, your boyfriend looked like someone else entirely. His hair was styled in a middle part, framing his handsome features perfectly. Instead of his usual oversized hoodie with holes on the sleeves masking his athletic body, he’s wearing a varsity jacket and a simple white shirt that clung way too well to his muscular frame. You could even see the faint outline of contact lenses in the whites of his eyes.
Your eyelashes flutter in confusion. You literally just saw him yesterday. When did he find the time to get a haircut and invest in a new closet?
Jake steps forward with a small, hopeful smile and holds out a box of egg tarts. Did it add to his already late ETA? Yes, but he always thinks about you and what you'd like to eat. Could you blame him for getting you a sweet treat?
But that wasn’t the part you were really focused on.
“Who are you and what did you do to Jake?” you ask, fists raised like a boxer. He chuckles nervously, bringing the pastry box back to his side.
“Do I look weird?” he asks quietly, shifting his feet. The vulnerability in his voice made you lower your hands instantly.
“So…” you start, eyes looking him up and down. “This is on purpose? Like, Sunghoon didn’t put you up to this? Or Jay?”
He pouts. His mom practically screamed, “So handsome!” when he showed her his new look over video call. So, why was your reaction like this?
“I just thought… new school year, new me! No?” he says, puffing up with pride.
You shake your head, moving your hand on instinct to ruffle his freshly styled hair. But he catches your wrist before you can touch him. You pull away, heart squeezing a bit, knowing that he dodged one of your rare bouts of affection. Or whatever you call it.
“It took me forever to get my hair to look like this,” he mutters, looking away. “Don’t want my hard work to go to waste.”
You click your tongue, trudging past him. Since when did he care about what his hair looked like? This was the same guy who showed up to graduation with a T-shirt and sneakers and got confused when the teachers asked him to go back home and change.
“Whatever,” you sigh. “No more standing around. We have to go—”
“Still not wearing the ring?” he asks, catching up to you. He noticed it earlier when he caught your arm.
When Jake gave it to you just a year before, he set no expectation for you to wear it. He really hadn’t… But it has been a year. Wasn’t it about time? He wears his everyday…
You suck in your teeth and glare at him. “Why would I?”
He flinches. And you start to feel guilt bubbling in your chest as his steps start slowing next to you.
“It’s just…” he mumbles. “It’s not like we’re in high school anymore. No one’s even gonna notice. And no one’s gonna care if we’re dating.”
You roll your eyes. You care. You still had a reputation to uphold. Maybe not as a troublemaker anymore. But still. Something about wearing your boyfriend’s ring for everyone to see and question seemed like your own personal hell. Who would want to be the center of attention as a university freshman?
“It’s the principle,” you say, not really knowing what you mean by it either. Because you are wearing it. Just not on your finger. It hangs around your neck, hidden underneath your blouse. But Jake didn’t have to know that.
You would rather die than give anyone the satisfaction of knowing you were smitten with this man. Soft, but only for him. Your biggest weakness.
“So are we always just gonna be a secret?” he sighs. You turn to face him, but you keep it pushing. It’s too much to explain right now. Or ever.
“Come on,” you insist. “We need to get to the orientation.”
–
Indeed, it wasn’t high school anymore. Because everywhere you turn, Jake’s name is being brought up.
“The hot guy on the football team—”
“He set the curve on the first exam and proved Professor Kim wrong on the board—”
“I saw him help a grandma cross the street. Soooo dreamy—”
It was enough to almost make you pull your hair out of your head. This was Jake they were talking about! The guy who was too shy to ask for no pickles in his damn burgers, who used to let Sunghoon copy off his homework and then rewrote his own just to make sure the teachers wouldn’t catch on. This was your Jake.
You take a moment to breathe.
You sound crazy. Deranged, even. It shouldn’t even matter. Jake was always good-looking! People just never noticed or took the time to appreciate him outside of his ability to decode the most difficult of physics equations.
“A couple of guys from the team think I’d look good with a sweatband,” he says, showing you a photo during a late-night walk. He’s shoving his phone screen to your face, and you pout at the sight. His hair pushed back, forehead glistening. A perfect view of his beautiful, dark eyes.
“Nah,” you say dismissively, trying to push down the fluttering in your heart. He tilts his head, staring at the photo once more.
“Really?” he mutters. “I thought it looked pretty good.”
“Do you really wanna look like Jay in junior year? He’s gonna tell you that you copied him.”
He gives a small sound of acknowledgement. You could tell he’s taking your comment seriously, like you said something truly eye-opening.
“You’re right,” he nods. “Then, how do you feel about a lip piercing?”
Your brows furrow at the thought of metal against his pouty lips. The way his teeth would tug on it. The effect he would have on all of his newfound admirers…
“Absolutely not!”
Yeah, you were losing it.
–
No, really, you might actually be going insane.
It was hard enough for you to create genuine friendships at Yonsei, full of stuck-up rich kids who only managed to get in through elite cram schools and expensive tutors. But after a few polite conversations, their masks fell to show their true intentions. You know now that you are being used as a shortcut to get on Jake’s radar.
Because why do people you’ve never met before suddenly feel comfortable enough to ask you to introduce them to him? Why do they request to follow you on Instagram only so they can find his account more easily? And what pisses you off most—the question they always ask, without fail: “Is he single?”
And you know there's a quick answer you can give. A very simple solution to your eye-twitching problem. Because every time someone high-fives him in the corridors or bats their eyelashes flirtatiously in his direction, you have the overwhelming urge to just pounce on him. To wrap your arms around his middle and never let him leave your sight.
But you can’t. Your pride is too big, your ego too fragile to admit that someone actually managed to slip past the cold exteriors of your heart. So instead, you're waiting impatiently for him to reply to your text.
He's not at practice. He's supposed to be on his way. So where the hell was he?
jake: sorry! study group went for a lil bit longer than I thought. everyone kept asking me for help haha. omw!
And then he sends a photo. It's a group selfie, with him in the middle. Three girls on his right and another two on his left, surrounding him like a piece of meat.
you: dont bother coming. im sick.
With envy, maybe. But you're perfectly healthy.
jake: im sorry babe :( you feeling okay? want me to get you anything from the store?
you: Nah.
You almost scream. There's so much you want to say and admit, but your fingers won’t type any of it. You really don't deserve him. He's so nice, and you're so… Fuck.
Why is it so hard to admit to your own boyfriend that you miss him?!
jake: ok :( I love you!
Your stomach flips.
Haha… You needed professional help. Really.
–
Jake was better at football than the bench in high school ever suggested. Senior hierarchy was everything at Yonsei. A starter as a freshman was practically unheard of before Jake. How he managed to level up from being a designated benchwarmer to being on the field at all times felt like whiplash.
Did he just have this in him this whole time?
I mean, you guess he looked kind of cool out there, all sweaty and serious-looking. Shouting call-outs to his team mid-game. Your legs squirm at the sight. He really needs to put on his damn glasses. (Though knowing you, that might only make things worse.)
You sit there, wearing the university colors of white and blue, holding onto a sign that says “Go Team!”
You would have made something with his name on it, but the thought alone sends shivers down your spine. You could not bear to give the stupid boys beside you the ammo of watching you scream Jake’s name and go crazy over his goals. So instead, you silently watch and admire as he steals the ball yet again.
Jay and Sunghoon, decked out in the rival school’s signature red for no reason whatsoever (they don’t even attend that university either), stood on either side of you with a level of passion you’ve never seen from them before.
“GET HIS ASS!” Jay screams. “Play the mental game! When Player 15 cries, he calls his mom first—”
Player 15 would happen to be Jake.
“The guy with ‘Sim’ in the back of his jersey loves to sing Celine Dion in the shower—”
You groan as heads turn, not enjoying the various glares and snide remarks from your surrounding schoolmates. You still haven't made any substantial friends yet at university. Being associated with these bozos would only make it that much harder. This would be the last time you sneak them into the student section.
“Can you two please sit down?” you mutter. “We’re ahead by like four goals. Psychological warfare is not enough for Jake to lose.”
Sunghoon drops back into his seat with a huff, cracking his neck.
“This won’t do,” he mutters. “Jake’s gonna surpass me in Instagram followers if he wins this.”
Jay chuckles on your left side, still standing and selfishly blocking the view of everyone behind him. “If he wins, you think he’ll invite us to their celebration party after?”
Your brows furrow. “What party?”
Jay finally sits down when the opposing team calls a time-out, one eyebrow raised at your confused expression. “Isn’t that like a thing every school does? First big game of the year, there’s bound to be something.”
Sunghoon nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s like common knowledge.”
You almost pout before catching yourself. Jake never mentioned anything about a party.
So when the game ended and, of course, Yonsei won, the two boys could not help but ask.
“So there’s a party, right?”
“And you’re taking us?”
Jake looks between the two of them, forehead glistening and hair damp with sweat.
“What party?” he asks, and you smile gingerly. That’s right! You weren’t crazy. He would’ve told you if there was—
“You have to go to the party, Jakey!” a voice chirps from behind you.
You recognize her. The team manager of the football team. Short hair and a cute button nose. Very pretty. Your eyes cut between Jake and her. Wait.
Jakey? Who the hell calls him that?
Jay and Sunghoon give each other some shifty glances and step aside, letting the girl join the conversation. You feel this weird inclination to move closer to Jake, but you suppress the urge.
“Hm?” Jake finally replies, confused more than ever. “No one told me about a party.”
The girl giggles. What even was her name?
“Oh, Jakey! Since you’re a freshman, I’ll give you the rundown.”
She scooches in between you two, pushing you slightly to the side. The boys don’t seem to notice, and you have half your sense not to shove the girl right back.
“Whenever we win,” she starts, “the whole school goes to En Bar nearby and takes it over! Free drinks and everything. You’re our star player, so you definitely can’t miss it. Your friends are invited too, of course.”
She looks between Jay and Sunghoon, not even sparing you a glance.
Jake scratches the nape of his neck. “Sorry, I’m actually feeling pretty tired—”
“We’ll be there!” Jay and Sunghoon say instantly. You raise your eyebrow at them, and the two brush it off.
“We’ll make sure he comes,” Jay laughs, slapping Jake hard on the shoulder. Having gotten hit by the ball in that exact spot just an hour before, he winces.
“I’m not really—”
“Great!” the girl smiles, clapping her hands together. “I’ll see you all there then?”
Of course, her back is fully turned towards you. Dumb and dumber nod in unison, and as the girl walks off, they push at each other excitedly.
“First college party,” they cry out in joy.
“Oh my god,” you mutter. “You two are pathetic.”
Jake nods slowly in agreement. “Well… you guys have fun. I think I’m just gonna head back to my dorm and shower…”
“And get ready, right?” Sunghoon says dangerously, wagging a finger at him. “Because you are coming, right?”
Jake shivers under his friends’ threatening glares. But what really scares him is when his eyes find yours. You look pissed. Fuck. What did he do this time?
“I mean… I guess I could pop in…” Jake says reluctantly. He sneaks in another glance in your direction and sees that your frown grows even deeper. Was that the wrong thing to say?
“Babe?” Jake calls after you as you stride across campus, shivering in your t-shirt and mini skirt. “Why are you walking so fast?”
It’s dark now, save for the dim street lamps. You stop abruptly, and he almost bumps into you. When you turn, your jaw is already clenched.
“Am I crazy, or did that girl just completely ignore me?” you ask genuinely, voice at the seams of losing composure. Because what the fuck was her problem?
Jake laughs nervously. “Choa? I thought she seemed pretty friendly?”
Your expression sours. “Yeah, maybe a little too friendly,” you say under your breath. Jake catches it.
“Wait,” he says with a shit-eating grin, leaning in. “Babe… are you jealous? Hm?”
Your cheeks heat up, arms crossing like a toddler. “Fuck off.”
He laughs now, twisting you around and guiding you forward with an arm around your shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, babeeee…”
He notices how you don’t pull away from his touch, when normally you would hiss something like, “people are watching,” or something like that. Jake bites back an even bigger smile. You just let him hold you.
The walk to his dorm was peachy for him, save for the fact that his sweaty arm stank up your shirt.
You! Jealous. This has to be a dream. When you reach his room, shared with a sophomore named Heeseung who never seems to be around, you sit on Jake’s bed, still reeling from the earlier interaction.
“Am I overreacting?” you ask him, not at all bothered that he was taking his jersey off. You’re well past the stage of pretending his bare torso flusters you. “Like… did it not seem like she wanted you?”
Jake laughs, wiping his underarms with a nearby towel. “Me? Babe, no. That’s out of the question. She's like four years older than us—”
You roll your eyes. “So where the fuck did ‘Jakey’ come from?”
He shrugs, catching his reflection in the wall mirror hanging on his door. His muscles flex in a way that makes your eyes travel down his well-toned back…
You snap your gaze back to the wall. No. Focus. You’re supposed to be mad.
“New year, new nickname?” he offers, teasingly.
You throw a pillow at his head. Like the athlete he is, Jake dodges it. He turns to you, laughing, amused by how sulky and adorable you look on his bed. Brows furrowed in contemplation, tugging your legs close to your chest. Your plush thighs in your pretty little skirt that would have gotten you dress-coded back in high school with your knee-high socks and…
Fuck.
“It’s not like I care,” you mumble, unconvincingly.
Jake huffs out something that sounds like a chuckle, but his thoughts are elsewhere. His mind (and eyes) are on the edge of your skirt. He places a hand on your thigh and rubs it softly. To you, it felt like reassurance, and it was. But he was also incredibly horny.
“Babe,” his words drawl. “Look at me.”
Your eyes meet his for a split second before he plants a wet kiss on your cheek. “Hey—”
He chuckles as he plants another on your nose. Then your chin. And then your other cheek. And now you’re trying to push him away, but he holds your wrists to prevent you from stopping his incessant attacks.
“Jake—You stink—Freak!” You try to say as his lips find yours, while he’s giggling up a storm. So cute. You're so fucking cute.
His next kiss is deep, drawing out your breath sharply. Your back is on the bed now with Jake on top, his hands still wrapped around your wrists.
Jake’s lips move against yours, your eyes fluttering shut. His tongue prods and pushes in, his taste so sweet and heavy as you breathe in his weirdly intoxicating scent. Like fresh laundry doused in the salt of his sweat. You clench his biceps as he comes up from the kiss to catch some air.
He looks at you, face flushed and mouth parted.
“I’m hard,” he blurts out, and you smack him on his naked chest.
“What do you want me to do about that?” you mutter as you start to feel him press against your stomach. “Don’t you have a party to go to?”
He shakes his head, burying his face in your hair. He lets out a groan, grinding onto you just to feel any part of you against his football shorts. You let out a squeak, clenching at his toned muscles harder.
“You’re not coming with?” he asks, and you can hear the shakiness in his breath. You smirk, wrapping your legs around him and shifting up so that his tent could meet your core. Jake fit between you so snugly.
His head lifts to meet yours, pupils already so dilated.
“Why would I?” you say through hooded eyes, and you could visibly see him gulp. It almost makes you laugh. But instead, you tease him, moving your hips up to graze his bulge.
“I have time,” he groans quickly. “For this. Or whatever you want to do. Like I’m really down for any—”
You roll your eyes, gripping the back of his head to smash him back down to your lips. Your movements are messy, tongues clashing at a feverish pace. He’s still sore from earlier, but like hell he would let this opportunity go. Not when you looked this fucking good. And angry too. (For him, these things aren’t mutually exclusive...)
With trembling fingers, he lifts your shirt and almost moans at the sight of your bare skin. While he wants to thank you for saving him the trouble of not fiddling with a bra clasp, you pat yourself on the back for leaving your necklace at home.
Knowing how frisky Jake gets after the adrenaline of a good win runs through him, it was the right call. You don’t think you could handle Jake seeing you so jealous while having his ring resting on your chest. Yeah, you’d probably die right in front of him.
His hands grab your tits softly, massaging them between his fingers. Jake dips down, swallowing a nipple in his mouth as he watches you sigh out in pleasure.
He’s confident in one thing when it comes to you, and it was this right here. He could make your tough exterior melt just as long as you were under him. Or over him. He has no preference.
His tongue circles your bud, tugging with his teeth lightly.
“Jake—” When he hears you squeak, his dick twitches with anticipation. So pliant now. What happened to that dominance earlier? He’d like to see it come back…
He moves on to the other breast, licking and massaging so it doesn't feel too neglected. Jake loves your tits, could be buried between them for the rest of his life if you let him. But now isn't the time! He has a very mean and very jealous, but also very hot, girlfriend to please. And maybe some party to make it to, who knows.
Jake pulls his shorts down roughly, just enough so that he can take his dick out. Already so big, the bulbous tip weeps with desire for you. He’s palming himself, relishing in how your eyes shut tight, lips parted open as his wet, pink muscle traces circles over your sensitive skin.
He’s nipping the top of your breasts now, careful not to leave marks in visible areas. Jake knows how you get about that sort of thing.
His fingers drag your white, damp panties off your legs, but keeps your skirt on. And the knee-high socks for good measure. His hand meets your core, pushing down on your clit with a heavy pressure he knows you like.
You gasp, covering your eyes with your forearm. You’re so embarrassed. The noises you're making are unbecoming of you. All he does is laugh. Still so sensitive during sex after a whole year of dating. And he’s supposed to be the shy one.
His fingers drag slowly on your folds as he spreads your juices all over his digits. Jake might just cum in his pants with how soft your tits feel as he nestles his head in between them.
He pushes two fingers in right away, and you draw out a sharp breath. You almost hit him on the shoulder. He has no idea how big his hands are. How sometimes you would eye them whenever he helps you with homework. Veiny, like his cock.
He’s moving his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, wet squelches echoing through the room.
“Ngh—Mmm—” you groan, arching your back to meet his movements. Impatient. You’re always so impatient.
“JAKE!” you cry out, when he rubs over a certain spot.
He looks up at you from his comfortable position between the valley of your chest, and with a teasing glint in his eyes, he says, “You mean Jakey?”
And it’s not an exaggeration in the least to say that you start seeing red. You grab his wrist, the pads of your fingers digging into his flesh. He stops his movements, looking at you with those puppy-dog eyes like he did something wrong. And he did. Something very. Very. Wrong.
“Sorry, I just wanted to tease—”
You pull his fingers out of you. With one swift movement, you grab him by his shoulders and push him down onto the bed. You’re hovering over him now, eyes dark.
Jake swallows nervously. Why’d you have to look so hot when provoked?
“Did I ruin the vibe or…”
“Shut up,” you growl, crashing your lips onto his. He tries to hold your waist to offer support, but you hold his wrists down onto the sheets. He could probably push you off very easily. But he doesn’t. Because he loves seeing you like this. Loves the urgency in your touch.
You want him! And you’re showing it! His heart is practically doing backflips in his chest.
Your tongue explores the inside of Jake’s mouth, licking the roof of it in a way that has him seeing stars. You’re so rough with it. Sucking on his, biting his lip, moving so desperately against him.
“Babe—” he tries to say in between your assaults on his mouth. But it comes out in a breathless whisper when he feels you grinding your slick pussy against him.
“I said,” you say through gritted teeth. “Shut. Up.”
He almost moans when his leaking tip hits your clit. Just the contact alone has the back of his head hitting the pillow roughly. But he forces himself to watch as you move against him as he offers no assistance. Your grip on his wrists moves to the sheets as you focus on grinding against his dick. Swiveling yourself on him back and forth. Rubbing and rubbing. But it’s not enough. He needs to be inside. Needs to feel you right now.
Your breath is on his neck now, riling yourself up at his stunt. Jakey? What grown woman calls someone that? Choa and her nice ass bob... Fuck her!
“Ngh—” he lets out as you suction an erogenous zone on his neck, sucking and biting him like a vampire. Your tongue lapping at his skin to soothe him from the brutal assaults of your teeth. You close your eyes to relish in his taste. So salty from sweat, but still so sweet. But you’re distracted now as Jake breaks free from your hold. He grips your ass with one hand, the other guiding his pulsing member to your slippery entrance.
“Wha—”
He’s looking at you with pleading eyes. “Can I, baby?” Jake begs, cheeks tinged pink. “Please?”
You bite back a smile. What a fucking loser.
You push down on him, just slightly, just enough for his bulbous tip to slip inside. His grip on your ass is now slack. He doesn't even want to fight back, really.
“Fuck—” Jake’s mouth parts open, watching you with heavy-lidded eyes when you come back up. No longer inside you, he groans.
“Whyyy,” he whines. “I said I’m sorry—”
He inhales a sharp breath when you engulf his tip again, tightening around him just a little harder.
“Do you like being called Jakey?” you question darkly. “Like it when other girls feel up on you?”
He shakes his head desperately. “No—Only you—” he says through pained groans.
And then you lift again, laughing at his pathetic form. “I don’t believe you.”
He’s practically writhing underneath you now, his mushroom tip pulsing against your folds. Your skirt hides it all from view, and he just wishes he could rip it off you. Give you a new one, much, much shorter, so he can see everything better.
But only if you let him.
“You’re literally torturing me,” he whimpers, hips jutting up messily. He keeps missing your entrance, the one he desperately needs to be buried in. “Need to feel you right now—”
“What’s it to me?” you ask meanly, your thumb prodding at his bottom lip. His tongue comes out to lick at the pad of your thumb, sucking it ever-so-slightly. You enjoy this view. Him underneath you. Pleading. Whining. Like he's starving.
“I’ll make you feel so good, baby,” Jake offers through the haziness of his lust. Not entirely conscious of how desperate he sounds. “You can use me however you want. I’ll literally do anything. Just please—”
And then you sink, so slowly that his eyes roll to the back of his head. The devil. His girlfriend is the devil.
“Babe—” You shut him up with another open-mouthed kiss. Messy, just how he likes it.
He grips his hands into yours as you suckle his tongue, intertwining your fingers together. You try not to wince as you sheath him fully, realizing now that you were overconfident in taking control before he could properly prep you.
Usually, sex was an hours-long ordeal with Jake. He likes to finger you, then eat you out, then repeat, until he can slip into your slick warmth with little issue. Sex is the only time you don’t deny him the pleasure of seeing you flustered over him. Over what he could do for you. What he could provide you if you let him tell everyone in the world that he’s yours.
Regardless, Jake will always be long and thick, and he still stretches you out so deliciously. Your mouths clash against each other, swallowing back both of your moans as saliva pools at the sides of his bruised lips.
Depraved. That’s all you could think of when Jake bottoms out inside you. He’s so sweaty now, the scent so musky that it drives you insane. Do other girls smell these pheromones when he’s around? Or is this just you and your hypersensitivity to everything that involves him?
You’re moving up and down now, with shallow thrusts that do little to satiate the flame in your stomach. You don’t do this enough—take control enough. Your knees are already weak, wobbling, as you grind down on him.
But you push through it as you continue to impale yourself on his cock, gummy walls clenching him tightly with each thrust. You want to get him off like this, even if your whole body is trembling above him.
And it’s not like Jake doesn’t notice. But like the little shit he is, he doesn’t feel like helping. Because he enjoys the feeling too much, of your breasts bouncing filthily against his chest. When you lift yourself from his lips so that you can focus on riding him, he finds it so endearing. How you put your hands on his abdomen to steady yourself, how you fuck yourself on his length. How much you struggle to take all of him in. Not sure what to do with yourself.
‘My poor baby,’ Jake thinks, chuckling at how tight your eyes shut just to feel him better.
“Need help?” he hums, his hand drawing circles on your hip. You shake your head, teeth gritted.
“N-no,” you try to muster out, but it’s unconvincing. Your movements are stuttering, moans slipping out of your mouth too easily. He smirks. His little pillow princess.
Jake, with his grip on your hips, pulls you down onto his cock. Hard. You gasp as his hips snap up with it.
“Ah—” you cry out, your nails now digging into his shoulder blades. He pounds into a spot that had you almost come undone at that very moment. How did he get so good at this?
Jake lifts you, all the way until his pink tip is the only thing in your wet pussy. Then, as harshly as he could, he pushes you down on him, his thickness grazing at your deepest parts. And he does this again and again until you collapse onto his chest from the roughness of his thrusts.
“I’m gonna—Ngh—Fuck—You—” you try to say through your moans, try to sound angry. But you love it. Love how tight he grabs your bum. Love the slight stretch of pain as he stuffs you full of him. Love that trickle of spit that falls out of his mouth as his back lifts off the bed to feel you better. Ugh, you hate him.
“JAKE—”
“Shhh, baby, ” he whispers, forcing your face into the crook of his neck. “Just take it.”
Jake plunges up into you, propelling your hips down with his harsh grip. He lifts a heavy hand, smacking your ass from behind as you try to match his timing. You scream. He does it again, massaging the tender spot. The pain mixes with the pleasure, as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You feel your climax building now as your lips find his neck again, sucking and biting. Marking him. Let everyone know that he’s yours. That you own him.
“Babe…” he whines, too lost in the suctioning of your tightness to really care. Because he’s close too. So fucking close.
Jake’s arms move up to your back, caging you into a bear-like embrace. His feet plant themselves on the bed, as his dick shoves into you with newfound energy. He’s going so fast, you could practically hear the speed. Feel it too. The wet squelches of his balls slapping against your ass. You move with him, trying to sync your rhythm to his.
“Mmm—Ahh—” your moans jumble into each other. Your legs are trembling, even more than they were before. A searing feeling within you continues to build and build. A single, full thrust from him has you biting into his neck brutally, stifling your moans as your orgasm crashes through you in waves.
“Shit—” he cries out, from both the pain of your teeth and the pleasure of your cunt's constricting grip. You grind down on him, whimpering into his skin, back arched to ease yourself through the sensitivity.
Jake’s dick twitches in you once, then twice. He pushes you off of him and onto the bed, harsher than he intended. But he doesn’t have a condom on, and... he likes the way you look in white.
He hovers over you now, his painfully hard length in his hand. He’s stroking himself with urgency, fist wrapped around himself with a panicked grip. He’s watching you intently as you splay out underneath him. So fucking pretty for him. Lips bruised and bitten so sensually. Legs opened with your juices glistening on the inside of your thighs. Maybe he should stuff his cock into your—
“Fuck—” he groans, mouth parting at the sight of his thick ropes of cum spurting out of him, coating your stomach and tits. He strokes slowly, pumping all that he’s worth onto your body. You welcome it, eyes drinking in his flushed demeanor.
“I love you,” Jake mutters as he comes down from his high. And you don’t say anything back, distracted as your fingers coat themselves on the sticky fluids on your skin. Such a mess, both of you.
You hear it then. Intense vibrations on his nightstand. Jake’s phone, very much neglected, is blowing up with texts and calls. Was it going off like that the whole time? Then his eyes go wide like saucers.
“Shit! The party—”
Your eyes narrow. Before he can pick it up, you grab the nape of his neck to pull him down into another sloppy kiss. Your legs wrap around Jake once more, smirking as you feel him melt into you with little resistance.
“What party?”
morning after.
“You’re a bitchhhh,” Sunghoon cries out, over a FaceTime call that Jake was forced to pick up at nine in the morning. You were already gone by then, running late to your morning lecture.
Heeseung, thankfully, still hadn’t returned to the dorm. Or else you wouldn’t have been able to stay over and let Jake devour you a few more times, but that’s besides the point. He starts humming happily to himself with the memories of last night still fresh in his mind.
“They wouldn’t even let me into the bar because I was wearing the wrong colors,” his friend continues to complain.
“I get it, I get it,” Jake replies, only half-listening. He’s fixing his outfit in the mirror, admiring how well a polo shirt fits him. It’s weird. He’s getting used to not looking like a dweeb all the time, just a few weeks into his big transformation, even with his glasses on right now.
“Yo, do you think these pants look better with a belt or nah?” he asks, not really sparing Sunghoon a glance. He adjusts his shirt’s collar slightly until—
“WHAT THE FUCK—”
Jake jumps, phone nearly dropping from the desk he sat it on.
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
“What? What?!” Jake snaps his head to look behind himself, like Sunghoon might have seen a ghost.
“Did you get eaten by a fucking lion?!” Sunghoon gawks. Jake’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.
Damn, he forgot.
“W-what are you talking about?” he mutters unconvincingly, slowly coming out of frame. He strips the polo off in a panic, digging through his closet until he finds a turtleneck. It’s autumn anyway. This is fine, right?
“Our friendship is done,” Sunghoon deadpans at the camera. “You got fucking laid and didn’t tell me?! I mean, I understand Jay, he’d make it weird. BUT NOT EVEN ME?!”
Jake shakes his head, tugging the turtleneck on. He tries to roll up his sleeves to look more casual, but now he looks like Steve Jobs. Shit. He should put his contacts on.
“So who is it?!” Sunghoon presses. “Who’s the unlucky girl?”
When Jake doesn’t reply, Sunghoon gasps.
“Unlucky guy?!”
“Man, shut up!” Jake cries, snatching his phone off the desk and coming back into frame. “Please don’t tell Jay.”
–
“Okay, so he told Jay,” he blurts, shielding himself with his arm like you’re about to hit him. “Please don’t get mad at me.”
You almost asked why he was wearing a turtleneck in relatively warm weather when he tugged the collar down to show his neck. Absolutely purple and bruised. And yes. Maybe a dark, suppressed part of you jumped with glee. But the more rational part started cursing yourself out.
“I can’t believe you’d video call him the morning after,” you groan, massaging your temple with your fingers. “Ugh, I’m so stupid. What was I even thinking?!”
Jake gives you a sly smile. “I mean, I’m not complaining—”
You shoot him another icy stare, and he stops.
“W-well, it’s not like they know that it’s you! They probably think it’s someone else…”
You inhale a sharp breath at the thought. Was he gonna tell them the hickeys on his neck were from someone else? Who? Choa?
“Whatever,” you mutter, whipping around as your bag purposely smacked his bicep. You walk off, fists clenched, ignoring Jake’s calls out to you.
Fucking Choa.
–
A full week has passed since the disaster that was Sunghoon seeing Jake’s bruised neck. Your boyfriend only felt safe enough to see the two idiots once the marks faded, and even then, he was a little disappointed to wake up and see them all gone.
“So run it through with me again,” Jay requests, leaning over the boiling hot pot broth. The boys sit in a dimly lit restaurant with a stage in the back.
“Like, you were just walking back to your dorm and boom—you found a rando to hook up with out of nowhere?!” Jay questions, dropping tofu into the soup so aggressively that it splashes Jake’s wrist.
“Why are you making up fantasies in your head about my sex life?” Jake mutters, pushing his glasses up his face. He was too lazy to put his contacts on just to hang out with these two. “I plead the fifth.”
“Bro, I thought you were a virgin this whole time!” Sunghoon adds unhelpfully. “Excuse us for trying to be supportive.”
Jake rolls his eyes, struggling to grab an udon noodle with his chopsticks.
“Wait,” Jay says through the hot pot steam. “Weren’t you walking with [Y/N] that night?”
Jake gulps, throat bobbing as he fiddles with the noodle more to avoid suspicion.
“Right!” Sunghoon snaps his fingers, and for a second, Jake’s life flashes before his eyes. They know. They have to! Fuck, you’re gonna be so mad at him—
“Why don’t we just ask her who it was?”
Jake stares at them and breaks out into a nervous laugh. Never in his life was he happier to have a more idiotic set of childhood friends.
“Please do,” Jake smiles, wondering how you would weasel out of that conversation with them. “She knows her very well…”
A piercing sound of microphone feedback ricochets through the restaurant. The three cover their ears as everyone’s attention turns to the neglected stage.
“Who wants to sing?! It's open mic night!” the restaurant owner booms. When a deafening silence fills the air, Jay lifts Jake’s hand straight into the air without hesitation.
“This guy loves Celine Dion!” he cries out as Jake tries to yank his arm back down. He curses at his friend, but to no avail.
“Okay!” the owner shouts excitedly. “Come on right up, sir!”
Jay and Sunghoon practically drag Jake up the stage, laughing themselves all the way back to their seats in the far back of the restaurant. Jake stands frozen as dozens of strangers stare at him, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. He takes off his glasses, shoving them in his pocket, and brushes his hair back. He couldn't bear to look at all these blank faces staring at him. Confidence. This is all about confidence.
When ‘My Heart Will Go On' starts echoing through the restaurant walls, Jake’s face flushes all the way red. This is exposure therapy; he tries to cope with himself. If he could do this, he could probably build up the courage to ask you about going public. So that his friends stop thinking he’s a loser. Maybe for you to stop thinking it, too.
He sucks in a deep breath. What’s the difference between this and a showerhead? Nothing. Absolutely nothing!
“Every night in my dreams, I see youuuu… I feel youuu…” he starts slowly, welcomed with a soft gasp from an audience member. Jay and Sunghoon’s laughter dies as Jake sings. Shit. He was actually doing it. And he sounded good, too. Like an angel. Was Jay crying?
Jake loses himself in the slow melody of the song, singing his heart out as he does in every postgame shower. ‘This one’s for you, babe,’ he thinks. Wherever you are…
When the song ends and Jake’s eyes open, he’s met with a standing ovation. At a damn hot pot restaurant. Jay and Sunghoon are cheering the loudest, holding their hearts like their once-nerdy best friend was their child at a talent show. The owner comes up to the stage, sniffling.
“Give it up for this random kid!”
As Jake makes his way back to the table, he holds his head up high. He couldn’t have imagined doing this a year before, let alone ordering food at a kiosk without stuttering. It’s like taking off his glasses gave him super powers.
“Excuse me—” Jake turns around. A girl with long flowing hair stops him.
“Are you Jake Sim? The freshman on the football team?” she asks, eyes bright. He nods. Does he know her?
“I’m Suji from the Dance department.” She bows slightly. “Your performance was incredible, by the way!”
He nods, giving a small “thanks,” before he turns back around.
“Actually!” She calls after him. He stops again. “I just wanted to ask if you were interested in auditioning to be the male lead of our upcoming musical! It’s about a football player who finds passion in singing and dancing. I just thought it would fit you so well!”
Jake turns back to face the stranger. He ponders deeply. A musical? Him? He’d never thought about it before, but what the hell! He guesses he’s the type to try new things now. The power of a good haircut, maybe.
“I’ll think about it,” he says with a polite smile.
Suji grins back. “Auditions start tomorrow. We’d love to have you.”
By the time Jake finds his way back to his seat, his friends are already geeking.
“You pulled another?!” Jay cries in anguish, biting his fist. “I should have gone up there. That should have been me! Damn it!”
“It’s not fair,” Sunghoon wails, leaning his head dramatically against the wall. “You had no play in high school. Like absolutely zero bitches—”
Jake snorts, scrounging for his glasses once more to slip them back on. “She was just asking me to audition for some musical.”
“I’m sure she was,” Jay says with a smirk. “I’m sure she’s staring straight at your back right now because she wants you in that musical soooo bad.”
Jake shifts in his chair uncomfortably, and sure enough, Suji is watching him. She shoots up her arm to wave. He looks back at his friends with a confused glance.
“Maybe they’re desperate?”
Sunghoon groans. “I’m gonna call [Y/N]. Let’s get her expertise on this.”
“Don’t!” Jake lunges, trying to grab Sunghoon’s phone as he takes it out of his pocket. But then flashes from that night start playing in his head. You above him. Riding him. Gripping his shoulders. Your lips on his neck, marking him until he whined and begged. All at the mere mention of Choa’s weird pet name for him. Jake clears his throat and sits back, not even trying to hide the shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
“...Yeah,” he says more casually. “Ask her.”
–
ma baby: Come over. Now.
Jake receives your text after Sunghoon’s impromptu call, bringing his hands together in a prayer position to the sky. Thank you to whatever higher being was watching over him.
When he reaches your residence hall, you’re waiting outside your door in pajamas, foot tapping impatiently against the carpet. You start glaring at his silhouette even before he comes into view.
“So,” you start slowly, “you just let anyone talk to you these days?”
Jake’s already giddy. Yes… Be angry with him… Let him in your dorm room and reprimand him, while you’re at it…
“Babeeee,” he teases, his arms already reaching for yours. You dodge him. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” you reply flatly. “I’m just wondering when you started serenading restaurants and accepting invitations from random girls?”
“Just thought I could finally get some appreciation for my many talents,” he says teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Are you saying I don’t appreciate you?” you ask, not at all amused by his playful gaze. “I tell you all the time that you’re smart!”
He chuckles. “Everyone and your mom knows that by now, babe.”
You narrow your eyes. ‘He’s learning how to fight back,’ you think sourly.
“So you enjoyed that girl's appreciation, then?” you counter, knowing that you were riling yourself up by asking such a loaded question. Jake bites his lip to stifle a smile. There it is.
He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, pushing his glasses up. “I think I might actually consider auditioning!”
And this part is genuine. He’s always enjoyed singing. It could be a cool new experience, especially since he shied away from doing theater back in high school. Maybe now was his moment to shine... But when he notices how your expression darkens, he’s suddenly excited to audition for the musical for a whole different reason.
You look around the hallway, checking to see if anyone's coming by. Then you pull him by the collar and into your dorm room. The door shuts behind you two as you push him to sit on the bed. Jake looks up, eyes bright with pure anticipation as you climb onto his lap.
“What’s up, babe?” he asks, feigning ignorance. And you fall for it. Because your cute, nerdy boyfriend couldn’t possibly have ulterior motives… Right?
“You have class tomorrow?” you ask as you adjust yourself on him, legs encasing both sides of his thighs. His hands find your hips, pulling you closer.
“It depends,” he says, knowing full well he has an 8 a.m. physics lab. “Is your roommate coming back anytime soon?”
Oh yeah. Her.
“Not tonight,” you mutter, already peppering his neck with small kisses. “She’s visiting her parents.”
Jake smirks, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip as the wheels are already turning in his head. He fakes a cough.
“You know… I think the musical is actually a romantic comedy.”
You’re on your knees, carpet harshly grazing your skin.
“Fuck,” Jake groans, head thrown back as his hand clutches your hair. He’s pushing you down onto his cock, relishing in the way your cheeks hollow around him. How you take his whole length into your mouth without your usual snappy commentary. Look at you. Underneath him. So eager to please, but so in need of control. He bites his bottom lip at the view. It's addictive.
“Just like that,” Jake encourages, stroking your cheek so lovingly. Your tongue licks the underside of his thickness, careful not to have your teeth graze his sensitive skin. He’s so flushed above you, a darkness blooming in your heart. The sight of his glasses pushed so low on his nose bridge. So focused, so desperate for release.
‘My Jake,’ you think to yourself. ‘All mine.’
You bob your head up and down, your mouth plunging down to the base of his member with the help of his tight grasp on your hair.
“Y-yes,” he sighs, his hips coming up to meet your lips. Jake’s gaze never leaves yours, unable to tear his eyes from the tears forming in your eyes from just how much he fills you up. You always had something to say. Always rolling your eyes at him. Now, your eyes were rolling back for a different reason.
His mouth falls open. “F-fuck—”
You smirk as his hips start to lose rhythm. You remember the first time you gave him head. Just like this, knees on the floor of his room back home, with his parents watching TV downstairs. Glasses perched and foggy. He came within seconds. You were proud, just a little, that he was able to last this long now.
“B-babe?” he tries to cry out. “I’m close—”
You pull away from him with a pop of your lips, teasing the slit of his tip with the flat of your tongue. He groans in frustration, but his hands don’t push you down to take him in again.
“Already?” you say, eyes batting up at him. “Why should I give you the satisfaction?”
He whines, his grip on your hair tightening just a little.
“Please?” he asks, not really sure what you want from him. It’s not like he asked you to just fuck him with your mouth! That was all your doing. Okay, yes, maybe he did provoke you. But did that mean he didn’t deserve to orgasm?!
You’re pumping him slowly with your right hand, gripping tightly and stroking enough so that he’s still edging close to his climax. But not close enough to actually reach it.
“I thought I was supposed to be showing you appreciation,” you say pointedly. “Take my time with you and all that.”
He shakes his head ferociously, his hips snapping up into your fist.
“Babe—Please—I’m so—” he groans when he feels you slow your pace again.
“So what?” you ask, feigning naivety. You really are the devil.
He shakes his head. He can’t speak. Can’t even think. Just frustrated with how your lips aren’t wrapped around his fucking dick anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he cries. “I’ll do anything, baby. Please—Just stop teasing—Please—”
His sobs are music to your ears. Your wrist’s pace on him quickens, as your mouth engulfs his swollen tip. Your tongue circles the head, pumping him up and down with all your strength and might. Jake’s hands are clutching the sheets, hips pistoning up into your sticky fingers. He feels his load threatening to spill over.
“Fuck—Yes, baby—There—” He pulls your head back, hand encasing yours, pumping ferociously with you. Your mouth is wide open, tongue sticking out, eyes looking directly up at his. An invitation.
Spurts of his hot, white release coat your pink tongue. He unloads everything within him all over your features. Your cheeks. Your chin. Your cute ass nose. All covered in his milky cum. His mouth parts at the sight. So pretty. His girlfriend is so fucking pretty.
“I love you,” he whispers, as he wipes dribbles of his liquid off your chin with his thumb. “I love you so fucking much…”
You hum back in approval as he lifts you back up and onto his lap. Your face, still stained with his orgasm, comes up to kiss him. He grimaces slightly. You taste infinitely better than he does. He’s almost thankful you part ways with his lips so that you could pepper kisses down his neck.
And when you start sucking and nipping in the same way you did that game night, he smiles. His arms wrap around your waist as you suction his pulse point.
‘I could get used to this,’ Jake thinks.
The audition the next day went surprisingly easily. He truly was the only one trying out for the main role, while Suji was already pre-selected to play the female lead. Jake thinks it’s a bit unfair. What if other people wanted to audition too? But whatever. At least he got the part.
He finds you in between your lectures, holding out a boba for you in his hand. Jake’s not wearing a turtleneck this time, proudly wearing the battle scars of your teeth on his neck. No one’s brave enough to bring it up to him yet, to his dismay. Except you, who promptly smacks him in the arm for his shamelessness.
“You look like a pervert,” you grumble, still taking the drink from him.
He chuckles at your cute expression. You say that like it wasn’t your intention to have him show the bites off. To show that he is very much occupied with someone else. Not Choa. Or whoever this other girl was.
“I was wearing my jacket the whole day,” he reassures. “Just took it off when I came to see you.”
He flexes slightly. “You think I’ve bulked recently?”
You roll your eyes and ignore his obvious fish for compliments. “So how’d it go? The audition?”
He smiles. “You’re looking at the male lead of Singing Striker,” he says proudly, hand to chest. “And before you ask, the name was not my choice.”
You scoff at the cheesiness. “Congrats,” you say through small sips of your gifted drink. “Break a leg.”
“Babe… when you say it like that, I feel like you mean it the other way.”
You shake your head, speaking robotically. “So who’s the female lead? It’s a romcom, you said?”
“The girl,” he starts, snapping his fingers like he doesn’t already know who she is. “Suji. From the restaurant. The one who recruited me.”
Your eyes morph into a squint, like you’re glaring at him.
“...Interesting,” you say, willing yourself not to overreact. So Jake is hot now (always was). Girls just love to approach him with invitations to stuff. And he gets to act in a musical with someone that Jay described as “the baddest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Great! You love that, actually.
You bite down hard on the boba straw. “You know what… Are they casting for extras?"
And it's like a bad habit now. How you nip and scar his neck like you’re feeding off him every time a girl even so much looks in his direction. It’s easier than saying you’re jealous, easier than admitting that you have a sick sort of need to control who Jake interacts with.
You almost bent a metal spoon in the cafeteria when a girl asked for his number while you were sitting right in front of him. Granted, you did denounce being in a relationship with him pretty heavily the first few weeks at school. You knew she had every right to shoot her shot, but that didn't stop you from taking Jake right into a janitorial closet and making you eat him out as an apology.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans into the space between your thighs as your hands push him deeper into your wetness. “I've never even seen that girl in my life—”
You grit your teeth, angry that he even mentioned her. “Did I ask?” you growl through sharp breaths. “Just shut up.”
He smiles against your clit, sucking harshly to elicit more of your beautiful noises. He hums into you. Happy that you're mad at him. Happy that he gets to do dirty things with you without having to practically be on his knees and begging. Well, really, he already was.
His tongue laps at your folds, thrusting in and out to prolong his stay in between your thighs. Maybe he is teasing, but really, he’s just taking it all in. Your addictive noises. Your sweet taste. The feeling of his fingers digging into your ass just to hold you up. The way you clench around his tongue when he arches it inside, real deep. Yeah, he needs you bad.
Jake is lapping at you, your legs constricting around him even tighter when he finds his way back to your clit. When he tugs on it with his teeth, you jolt.
“Jake—” He does not care. He nips again, flattening his tongue to soothe the slight pinch. You arch your back into him, riding his face until you stop yourself. You look desperate. Pathetic even. But Jake groans.
“Keep going,” he huffs. “Use me, babe. Use me like I’m your fucking toy.”
You tsk, wondering where he learned to talk like that.
“Fucking pervert,” you mutter through harsh breaths. But your grip on him does tighten, and he whimpers at the feeling of you tugging on his locks.
“You like it when I'm like this, don't you?” You grit your teeth, pushing him in further. His nose is practically buried into your clit as he fucks his pink muscle into you at a merciless pace.
“Like when you get attention. Like when everyone fucking wants you.”
You're seething, practically riling yourself up. He tries to speak, but you clench around his tongue, trapping his voice. He hums into your folds instead, licking the roof of your warm hole as he finds the exact spot he's been searching for. You mewl.
“Fuck! T-there!”
You're grinding onto his face now, smothering him with your scent. Yes, he thinks to himself, please suffocate him. Tremors go through your body as you feel something intense build in the lower pit of your stomach. So close. So fucking close.
Jake’s grip on your ass loosens as he lets you do all the work. Your legs over his shoulder pump furiously into his face. Like, Jake is just a mere vessel for your climax. And he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't even nurse his own hard-on, one that's painfully stretching his jeans.
You're fucking his tongue, whining with each thrust, eyes starting to roll back, fingers almost pulling Jake’s hair from his scalp. Your hips stutter and then—
“Fuuuck…” Your orgasm pulses through you in ways that have you screaming silently. Your legs are trembling as his mouth vibrates with his hums against your core. Jake’s lapping up all your juices with an urgency.
Everything. He wants to taste everything. When you gently push him off from the oversensitivity, he resists at first. He holds you in place until he gets his fill, until tears are threatening to spill over. But your legs finally find the ground as he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes.
“I love you,” he whispers, out of breath.
‘Whore’ you want to say out loud, but you know that would only make him hornier. He’s weirdly into stuff like that. But you smile as you comb through his hair. He doesn’t have complaints about you messing it all up as long as you’re fucking him, huh?
Jake, still on his knees, looks up at you with a lick of his lips, savoring the remaining taste of you on it. You wish he could see how he looked. Flushed. Damp. Yours. You almost lift him up to kiss him when—Ding.
The loving gaze you two share is cut off by the sound of his phone. He finally gets up from his knees, checking the notification.
“Oh shit,” he mutters. “Suji says I missed the costume fitting. I think I need to head out soon—”
You smash your lips against his, interrupting his train of thought. You moan at the taste of yourself on his devious tongue. Jake smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. Maybe you could add a few more hickeys to his collection before he heads out... Just for good measure.
jake: let’s go to jay’s together?
For one of your weekly hangouts. The nights you try to avoid because they always end with you ignoring the pile of assignments you’ve already been putting off.
you: sure. wya rn?
You smack your forehead the second you realize how quickly you sent that text. You swear you weren’t waiting. It wasn’t like you were staring at the last message he sent five hours ago, ruminating over whether it was appropriate to tell him how much you missed him.
jake: meet me by the bleachers :D practice is ending soon.
The speed at which you change outfits is impressive, already heading to the damn field before you realize it. He’s there, dribbling with a couple of his teammates. You sit at the top of the stands, a bit out of his sight. He catches a glimpse of you anyway and waves. You shoot him a simple smile of acknowledgement that dampens almost immediately.
Because you also see Choa, handing him a water bottle. When Jake reaches for it, trying to avoid brushing her hand, she purposefully finds his fingers anyway. It’s enough for your stomach to sink.
Even though he’s just smiling politely. Even when it looks like their conversation lasts for two seconds. It doesn’t feel any less bad. Choa notices you staring, and she scoffs. “This is a closed practice—”
“She’s with me,” Jake corrects her immediately. “I told her to come. That’s okay, right?”
You lift an eyebrow, challenging her. Jake said it the nice way. If she had to hear you speak, you would have probably been escorted off the field by now. She coughs awkwardly and nods, instantly folding under Jake’s attention. Your boyfriend, by the way.
“O-of course,” she stammers. “Just make sure she doesn’t see the playbook.”
The guys continue playing, and you move down a few rows, keeping Choa in your line of sight. It’s like she feels the daggers you send her way because she whips around to glare at you.
“It’s kind of pathetic,” she starts. “How you cling onto him.” You squint at her, not sure if you heard her correctly. You turn around, too, to check if she really had the audacity to speak to a stranger like you in that way.
“You talking to me?” you ask, pointing at yourself mockingly. She clicks her tongue.
“Who else?” she bites back. “Do you even have a name, or do you usually just go by Jake’s guard dog?”
Your cheeks burn in anger. Oh, if you were in high school… She’d have been on the ground by now, makeup stained with turf and pebbles. But unfortunately, you’re trying to stick to your resolution. A reformed delinquent girl at a prestigious university—
“You mute too?” Choa adds in for good measure. You stand, and it’s like Jake’s Spidey senses tingle because he stops to watch, monitoring if he needs to step in.
“You know,” you say, voice cool and devoid of emotion, “you’ve got a lot to say for someone who has to talk like a baby to get a man’s attention.”
She snarls. “Excuse me?”
“Jake’s not gonna let you hit,” you mock, scanning her up and down with a disgusted face. You only say the next part just to piss her off. “You’re not really his type.”
“And you are?” She steps in closer. “You’re stuck in the fucking friendzone, acting like hot shit—”
Oh, if only she knew. The truth is sitting on your tongue, burning, begging to be spoken just so you can wipe that stupid smirk off her face. But you’re not that angry yet. Not enough to expose yourself.
“You seem like such a loser,” she continues, voice laced with malice. “Everyone already thinks you look like some stray puppy following Jake everywhere he goes. Don’t you have a life of your own? Any hobbies? Isn’t it sad showing up where you’re not wanted?”
Ouch. Jake was your puppy. He follows you around everywhere.
She digs right into that ugly little fear in the back of your mind. That you look as pitiful as you feel. That you truly were just biding your time in this dumb university until Jake showers you with attention. Is this what a relationship’s supposed to feel like? Like you’re waiting for him, all the damn time?
You inhale a deep breath. You’re better than this. Better than catfights over someone that’s already yours. A man who sleeps on your chest almost every night... But you’re not above being petty.
“And did he tell you all that,” you ask with fake sweetness, “or are your delusions that Jake’s gonna fuck you starting to get to your brain?”
She opens her mouth, but you cut her off. “I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you,” you continue, sarcasm dripping in your voice. “Make sure Jakey knows exactly the kind of girl you are.”
Choa bites the inside of her cheek. “Not like I said anything wrong.”
“Oh, right.” You pitch your voice up to that grating baby tone she uses with Jake. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate you calling me a ‘fucking loser,’ since you care so much about what he thinks.”
You could laugh at her suddenly hunched shoulders, but you just drop back down onto your seat, fake scrolling through your phone. “Don’t you have a team to manage?”
Choa whips her bob around, stomping back toward the group and desperately hoping that no one heard. But Jake is already staring. He doesn’t look mad. Just resigned.
“Choa?” he calls out, voice low and almost inaudible. He’s not smiling like usual.
“Yes?” she answers immediately, with that lilted tone that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. You don’t hear the conversation that takes place, so curious as to why Choa’s expression suddenly drops.
“Don’t ever talk to her like that again,” he says, and the entire team stiffens around them.
“And next time,” he adds, walking past her, “Just mind your fucking business.”
–
You never, in all your years of living, thought you’d be sitting in an auditorium seat watching your boyfriend act like he was in love with another girl on stage. But here you are, leg bouncing and forearms itching from the irritation bubbling in your chest.
“But don't you get it?!” Jake rehearses, script in hand. His hands flail in fake exasperation. You cover your mouth to hide the wince forming on your lips. “How can I choose between the stage and football?!”
“You don't have to choose,” Suji steps in, acting much better than Jake, at least. “You can do both.”
Jake sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. He's facing her now.
She's pretty, you think. Really pretty. Probably one of the most gorgeous girls you've ever seen in your life. And Jake is staring right into her eyes. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks the same. You grit your teeth at the thought.
“But what would people think of me?” he sighs. Suji shakes her head, moving closer. Your brows knit. That's not part of the script.
“Who cares what other people think?” she says softly, resting her hand on his chest. Your expression darkens immediately. “If it feels like you're alone… Then I can be there to support you.”
Maybe Jake's character should care what other people think, especially if he’s gonna prioritize singing on stage with some pretty girl over his football career—
You slap your own cheek lightly. Relax.
“Cut,” the musical director calls out. “Great job, you two! After this is the dance scene. We can rehearse that tomorrow. I think that's all for the day.”
When the actors and stage crew finally funnel out, you watch Jake stay behind, chatting with his costars onstage. So radiant, smiling at them with his toothy grin and cracking jokes as he says goodbye. He never used to be like that. Used to be so painfully shy that Jay had to accept his academic awards for him in high school.
And yeah, you feel like shit when he's standing there, surrounded by people who have stars in their eyes when he talks, while you're grumpily waiting in a faraway seat with no real excuse to interrupt. You're just part of the stage crew, after all. Just one of the invisible people who move props in between scenes while Jake and Suji’s characters fall deeply in love with each other. Yuck.
But you’re not gonna do the usual thing of dragging him to the nearest secluded area and fucking his brains out. No—you’re better than that. You’re not a loser! You’d let this pass.
“Bye, I’ll catch up with you guys soon! My friend’s waiting for me.”
The word ‘friend’ digs deep into your heart. But that’s your own fault.
Jake walks toward you, and the quick smile he throws your way is cut short the moment he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He stops in front of you, forehead still glistening from the stage lights, eyes glued to the screen even as he talks.
“I have practice in like thirty minutes,” he sighs, scrolling through his calendar. “And then the crew wants to have, like, a group dinner later tonight.”
He cranes his neck to release some tension, finally looking up at you. “Damn. My character is lowkey right. It really is hard balancing the two.”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “The crew? Like Jay and Sunghoon?”
He shakes his head as he walks beside you, still a bit occupied with his phone. He's sending text messages to some massive group chat, text bubble after text bubble popping up.
“The main acting crew,” he says, emphasizing the second word. “I think they wanna run the lines at En Bar and get a couple of drinks.”
You almost stop in your tracks, but you force yourself to continue walking with him, arms crossed. Good for him, you think. And you mean it. He's adjusted so well to university life, while yours feels like it revolves around him.
What's Jake up to? Is his practice done? Who's he talking to? Is it Choa? Is it Suji? Is it every girl that makes eye contact with your newly socially adept boyfriend, who just so happens to have the most gorgeous face known to mankind?
You want to punch yourself real bad.
“Do you wanna come?” he asks when he notices you've fallen silent. He thinks it's cute when you're jealous. Sulking and pouty—when it’s obvious why you’re upset. Not when you're quiet. Not when you're creating distance between you two as he walks beside you.
“I can ask them if we can reserve more chairs—”
“It's fine!” you interrupt, but even you don’t convince yourself. “I have work to catch up on anyway.”
His lips part as if recalling something important, something he promised you.
“I'm so sorry, babe!” he gasps. “I totally forgot that you needed help studying for your exam tomorrow!”
You shrug your shoulders. You’re a cool girlfriend. Super chill. Not crazy at all.
“No, it's okay,” you say, chain necklace feeling heavy on your chest. “I'll just go to the tutoring center. You're busy, I get it.”
His eyes are still laced with concern. You sound so disconnected, so not yourself. Did he do something wrong?
“I can come over tomorrow?” he suggests, but it almost comes out as a plea. “We can watch the new movie you wanted—”
“My roommate’s gonna be home.”
“Okay…” he says, voice fading. “What about my dorm?”
You shake your head. “I'm not really up for a movie, I guess.”
Jake’s expression sours. It feels like you’re shoving sheets of metal down his throat. He can take you angry. Can handle you screaming, kicking, crying, and calling him names. He can’t take whatever this is.
“I can just cancel,” he says quickly. “I’ll come over tonight!”
And Choa’s voice resounds in your ear.
“You seem like a fucking loser.”
You bite your bottom lip and stare at his wavering gaze. You wonder if he pities you.
Has he noticed? How quickly you reply to his texts? How often you show up to his extracurricular activities? How you can’t seem to admit that you’re hurting, even when he’s right here in front of you? God, you hate this feeling.
“It’s okay,” you say, and it’s small like a whisper. “Need some alone time anyway.”
“Alright,” he breathes, relenting to whatever boundary you’ve set with him. He reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, but when you flinch, he retracts his hand instantly.
“I love you?” he tests.
You give him a small smile and nod, pushing past him. He moves like he wants to catch your hand and stop you. But as always, he lets you walk just a little too out of his reach.
Because you still don’t say it back.
–
So this is what it feels like to twiddle your thumbs and try not to scream as Jake misses yet another hangout... He’s busy with his daily practices and rehearsals. You get that. But it’s still physically torturous to sit through Jay and Sunghoon stoking the fires of your insecurities.
“He’s gotta be seeing someone,” Sunghoon sighs, reclining into the beanbag in Jay’s apartment. “Dude just abandons his friends without any pussy involved? There’s no way.”
You smash a throw pillow from the couch and into his face, and Jay throws another one for good measure.
“Why do you always think with your dick?” Jay mutters. “Just let Jake be. This is his moment. Not like he had much to work with in high school.”
Sunghoon sighs. “Yeah,” he mumbles, almost apologetic. “He was pretty lame back then.”
You never thought so. Maybe you joked about it, but you never really meant it. He was kind. A little shy. So eager to please and follow you around. And now that the roles were reversed, you weren’t sure how to feel anymore. Fuck. Why couldn’t you just be happy for him?
He has this amazing life outside of you now. Cool friends (not Jay and Sunghoon). Great prospects for the future. It’s like a bird leaving the nest. Your carefully cultivated nest.
You felt like a cloud raining over his head when you’re around him now. After Choa, you started to notice the whispers around campus a little more. How people avoid him when you’re around because you can’t carry empty conversations about upcoming exam scores the same way Jake can.
It’s just different. He is. And it feels like you are too. But not a good different. It’s the kind that makes you feel like this isn’t how you should be. That you aren’t who you want to be… Maybe Choa was right.
And now a pillow is thrown in your direction. You shoot daggers at Sunghoon with your glare.
“What?!” you yell. He pounces in fear.
“I asked,” he coughs. “Is college treating you okay? You making friends?”
You roll your eyes. “Are you my dad?”
Jay sighs. “We always talk about Jake. Sue us for wanting to know how you’re doing for once.”
The words linger. What are you doing?
–
You’re stewing in it, marinating in how lonely it feels to stand in a corner with the stage crew while Jake, Suji, and the rest of the main cast laugh amongst themselves. Whatever.
“Those two are so cute,” a girl beside you says. Gaeul. So sweet, so bubbly. So oblivious to how tightly you clench your teeth. “They’d be like the it couple on campus, no?”
When you look between Jake and his toothy grin and Suji with her sweet laugh, you can’t help the way your heart constricts. “Yeah,” you mutter in disgruntled agreement. “I guess.”
Jake sends you sneaking glances, ones you don’t notice despite your eyes lingering on him.
You haven't been the most responsive lately. He texts you a lot in between practices and rehearsals. Whenever he has the chance. He asks to come over. Asks you to come over. And you’ve turned him down almost every time.
You didn’t attend his last two games, you’re skipping rehearsals that you used to sit through for hours, and Jay knows where you're holed up more than he does. He’s worried about you. Worried that you’re avoiding him. Were you avoiding him?
“I heard you two are really good friends,” Gaeul asks you with sparkling eyes. “He seems like such a catch. How’d you not fall in love?”
You shrug. What answer are you supposed to give? It’s not like you were resistant to his charm either. “He went through a transformation recently,” you admit. “We were both kind of outcasts in high school.”
“Me too!” she says excitedly. “I bleached my hair, and everything before uni started. What about you? Were you two like super shy?”
You shake your head. “Jake was. I was just a bad student. Got in trouble a lot. My parents literally laughed when I told them I wanted to go here.”
And your heart thuds in your chest from a memory. Because Jake believed in you. Sat through hours of studying, teaching you the difference between derivatives and whatever the fuck linearization was, just for the chance to attend the same university. So he could spend time with you, so he could be with you. And now you barely see him.
“Really? I’m not surprised, though. You seem like such a chill girl. Like you don’t care what other people think of you.”
“Trust me. I’m far from it.” You catch Jake’s longing gaze again, but you turn away.
“Starting to think it was a mistake joining this thing,” you mumble, “with how often everyone forgets their lines.”
She laughs. “I like how straightforward you are,” she says with a wide smile. “Don’t really mince your words, do you?”
You smile too, in what feels like forever. It felt free to talk about something—anything—outside of him.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know how to hold back what I say.” Which is a lie. Because you hold back a lot. More than you let on.
“Alright!” the stage manager yells. “Let’s get in position for the final scene.”
The kiss scene. The one you’ve dreaded for so long. You and Gaeul move across the stage, setting up the mics and instruments in their right place. You move past Jake with your head down. He frowns. So you are avoiding him.
“Places, people!”
You watch, from the wings, as Jake pours his heart out into the lyrics. A song about breaking free from stereotypes and whatever other inspirational stuff this whole musical’s about. He’s good. Really good. He moves like a natural on stage, throwing Suji these soft, tender glances that look so painfully real. She glows under the lights, stars in her eyes. And as the song comes to an end, he picks her up to spin her.
Just like the script says. And you clutch your forearm at the sight.
“I feel like I can really be myself with you,” he says to her. “Like I don’t have to hide or pretend.”
Whatever.
“And you make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”
The two stare at each other. A pause. Jake leans in. And so does she. Fuck.
You can’t do this. Can’t watch. You turn and walk out the back exit. Your chest is heavy, constricted with that ugly pang of envy.
Fuck this feeling. It hurt. Why did it have to hurt? You hate the tears that well up in your eyes, hate the shivering of your shoulders as you hug yourself in the parking lot of the stupid auditorium. You need to go back in. Save face. Show how little that kiss scene affected you because you’re supposed to be his friend in the eyes of everyone else.
You clutch your necklace through your shirt, fingers twisting the ring. Jake, who loves you. Who desperately wants your relationship to be public, to show you off. The same Jake on stage kissing another girl for a stupid musical you didn’t even want to be a part of.
He doesn’t deserve this. This monstrous version of you, who cares too much but gives too little. Overbearing to the point of suffocation.
So you walk back in, face steeled and tears wiped. He’s talking to the director with Suji, like nothing happened. Like all semblance of your self-esteem wasn’t just ruined a few minutes ago. But you need to stop. Because it isn't his fault. It isn't even Suji’s.
It’s yours. You hurt your own feelings.
Jake sees you and immediately lights up, calling your name as he jogs over. You don’t smile back.
“I have some time after rehearsals,” he says lovingly, his hand tugging your arm. “Wait for me?”
This would be the last time you would.
–
He tries to hold your hand on the walk back home to steady his heart rate. Opening night creeps closer and closer, and preparation alone won’t save him from the nerves. But when you pull away before his fingers can intertwine with yours, he flinches.
Maybe there are too many people around, Jake tells himself. You’re probably worried about being seen. And so he continues his merry yapping. He doesn’t notice the defeated glint in your eyes or the slow steps you take next to his. He’s still riding the high from rehearsal, still proud he finally made it through every line without stuttering or needing the script.
Maybe he’ll do well enough on opening night that you’ll let him kiss you afterward. Maybe you’ll walk toward him with flowers while he wraps you in his arms. He’d spin you around, brag to the whole world that you’re his girlfriend. Say it loud and proud in front of annoying ass Jay and Sunghoon, who got front row seats.
The thought pulls a grin onto Jake’s face, making him skip ahead a little. And you both keep walking toward the dorms. Just like any other day.
Until you ruin it.
“I’m dropping out of the stage crew,” you say, casually. He stops in his tracks. All semblance of a smile wipes from his face. The show is sold out. It’s too late to get you tickets.
“You won’t be able to watch,” he says, panic laced in his voice. You’re at a standstill, in the middle of campus, surrounded by trees and concrete. “You should’ve told me! I can see if I can pull some strings—”
He’s already taking his phone out to text someone. Probably the director. He doesn’t even ask why. Just goes straight to problem-solving. Your Jake. Too good. Too kind. Too forgiving.
It’s too much.
“I’m not coming to watch,” you say, harsher this time, stopping him from sending the message. Guilt washes over you instantly. Because he looks at you with his brows knit together, eyes wavering.
“I don’t understand.” You don’t want to come? You don’t want to support him?
Your mouth opens to say something. Anything. But your throat feels hoarse, shoulders too heavy. Shit. Don’t cry. You don’t cry in front of anyone.
“Jake,” you start, clenching your quivering hands open and closed. “I can’t do this anymore.”
His heart drops.
“Do what anymore?” he swallows, his mouth dry. “I’m confused—”
“I think we need to break up.”
Numb. Everything is numb.
“W-what?” Tears sting Jake’s eyes before he can blink them back. “Don’t… don’t say that.”
You shake your head. “Jake,” you whisper, careful not to get too close. Careful so you don’t make the mistake of taking back your words. “I don’t think we’re good for each other.”
He inches forward. You take a step back.
“Do you think that? That I’m not good enough—”
“No,” you interrupt. But he isn’t listening. And he doesn’t want to. Because this feels like a fucked up joke, a prank on him that’s been taken too far. Won’t you stop?
“Because if it’s something I did, I can change,” he begs. And your heart breaks a little at how desperately he searches for a hint of emotion in your face. But you don’t relent. You can be the bad guy. You always are.
“Please. We can talk this through.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, an unusual softness in your voice. “I don’t want to change my mind—”
“Why not?!” he asks, voice louder. The quiet that falls between you two is masked by the rustle of surrounding trees, orange and red leaves falling around you two. The cool, autumn air brushes your face. His eyes sting with redness.
“Why don’t you tell me anything?” His voice cracks. The aching in your heart makes you want to give in, to take it all back. But you aren’t like Jake. You can’t adjust, can’t welcome change so openly.
So as you look at him with his slicked back hair and sharp features, so different from a year ago, it feels like you've already lost something. The version of yourself who had more to give than hollow excuses and marks left on his skin.
You couldn’t admit to it even now. That you hate who you’ve become. “I’m telling you right now,” you gulp, bracing your own words. “That I want to break up.”
And the first semblance of tears falls down Jake’s cheeks as he lets out a bitter laugh. He doesn’t believe it. Can’t accept it. He won’t let this be the end.
“If it’s because of what Choa said—”
Your brows furrow. “You heard what she said?”
His hands are in his hair, tugging at it with frustration. You seem angry, but he doesn’t know why. He never does.
“I told her to mind her business,” he explains quickly. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks. So if you’re breaking up with me just because she called you clingy or whatever…”
And he doesn’t know it, but the words trigger something in you. Something you’ve been pushing down over and over again. The feeling of seeming weak, of needing him. The need to monopolize. It sickens you.
“It matters what I think Jake!” you finally burst out. Frustration etched in your voice, shaky from the cold air and your wavering emotions. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
“All I ever do now is wonder who you’re with, why you’re with them, and I just… I just feel so fucking lonely.”
He reaches for you, but you push him away. Your grievances spill out of you before you can hold them back.
“I’m paranoid of anyone who talks to you. I couldn’t even fucking watch you do that stupid kiss scene,” you continue.
“We didn’t even kiss!”
“That’s not the fucking point!” you scream, before you can stop yourself. You inhale sharply when he flinches. Calm down. This is not his fault. Why are you getting angry with him?
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, taking one more step back. He holds your wrist gently to keep you in place.
Jake stares at you with his lips parted, stunned. “So why can’t we just go public?” he pleads. “You wouldn’t have to feel this way if—”
“That’s not the issue either,” you scoff, but you can’t even convince yourself. Because isn’t this how it all started? Your unwillingness to be embarrassed, to seem vulnerable in front of others. Was this not the root of it all?
“Then what is?!” he cries, his grip on your wrist tightens, not to hurt you, but so that you don’t run. Because you’re good at that. Running.
“I get insecure too,” he reassures, but you look past him now. “But I tell you. I tell you when I’m hurt, I tell you when I’m down. Because I… I want you to understand me. I want to understand you too…”
He swallows hard before continuing. “So I don’t get why you would even bring up breaking up before we even try to solve the problem together—”
“Because I don’t want to solve it, Jake.”
His hold on you loosens instantly, arm dropping to his side. You feel colder as he steps back. Jake stares at you, hurt laced in his gaze. Like you stabbed him in the heart and twisted the knife in to marinate.
“...You're always like this,” he mutters under his breath. “Always saying hurtful things without thinking about how they make me feel.”
He feels his throat close up as he draws in some baited breaths. The tears come in more heavily, his cheeks damp as they roll down his pained face.
“So you see what I mean?” you say, your own tears threatening to spill over without you even realizing. A part of him instinctively wants to wipe them away, to pull you close and make it stop. But all he feels is anger. Because you’re the one breaking up with him. You’re the one choosing to end things. What right do you have to cry? What right do you have to look shattered when he's the one in pieces?
“I’m horrible to you,” you let out with pained laughter. He shakes his head immediately.
“No, you’re not—”
“I always pick fights—”
“You don’t—”
“I act like a fucking bitch—”
“Don’t call yourself that—”
"I feel like I’m insane when I’m around you,” you let out, before you can stop yourself.
“I don’t think that at all—”
“But I do, Jake,” you cry. “I hate how jealous I get when you’re surrounded by other people. I hate feeling like I’m holding you back. I hate what I’ve become since…”
And you can’t finish because his tears have stopped. He’s looking at you with a new kind of anguish. The kind that you don’t necessarily expect. The kind that feels like disgust.
“Since you started dating me?” he says like he correctly finished your statement. But that’s not what you're going to say. Never that.
“Since you didn’t need me anymore,” you whimper. “I’m not a good girlfriend, Jake. You’d be so much happier without me. Everyone would think it if they knew.”
He stands in front of you, hollow. If they knew. He has to laugh. That’s the problem. No one does. You don’t want them to. It’s clear now.
“Fine,” he says, and the steadiness of his voice makes you shudder. Good. This is what you wanted.
He’s staring at you, jaded like he had come to terms with it. He used to love how insistent you were about your point of view on things, how firmly you stood by your opinions. Used to envy it. But now, he detests it. That stubbornness.
“Whatever you want,” he sighs, hands slipping in his pockets. “Let’s break up. Pretend we never happened.”
Your mouth parts. “Excuse me?”
Jake scoffs, hands tightening into a fist. They’re trembling, but he won’t let you see. He can do what you do. Act like he’s okay. Act like you didn’t just kill him. He’s gotten very good at that. Acting.
“I’m being honest, Jake—”
“You don’t love me,” he cuts in. And your heart sinks. “That’s all this is. You never show it. You never say it. And I’m tired of hearing you pretend like you’re doing me a favor when I’m practically begging you not to leave.”
His voice cracks, but he continues. “So fine,” he mutters. “Have it your way. You won’t ever have to admit that we dated, start a clean slate without me. Just like you want.”
He presses his lips together and gives you one last look before he takes his hands out of his pockets. He’s fiddling with the ring. His ring. The ring that matches yours.
“You know,” he starts, voice trembling and bitter, “when it was the other way around… when I felt like shit about myself…. I never once thought of leaving you.”
His gaze is on the ground. “Because I always thought I was better with you than without. Because you made me want to be better.”
His voice falters. He looks at you now, sniffling.
“I tried to be better.”
And in one swift motion, Jake takes off the ring. “...But you didn’t even want me enough to stay.”
“Jake, no—”
But it’s too late. You see him throw it, the bushes rustling nearby. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He shoves his hands back in his pockets and walks past you to the direction of the dorms.
“There,” he says quietly behind you. “Like we never happened.”
He doesn’t look back, doesn’t even spare you a glance. It’s only when he’s fully out of sight that you dig through the orange and red pile of leaves, through dirt and branches. Tears stream down your face as you sob, searching for it like a mad woman. Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.
But you can’t find it. No matter how hard you try to find a silver glint in the greenery, there is nothing. And you clutch onto yours like it’s your lifeline. He threw it away. How could he throw it away?
And you wonder then if you made the biggest mistake in your life.
–
You thought the pit in your stomach would fade once you ripped the bandage, but the hole in your heart opened wider. And it’s only been a week.
Jake used to dodge questions about his love life, but now he admits to anyone with ears who walks by that he’s single. You have ears. And you walk by often. You’re not sure if he’s taunting you or if you just want him to be.
When your eyes meet his at the one lecture you still share, he’s the first to turn away. Jake used to sit beside you, shoulder brushing yours, tilting his laptop so you could keep up when the professor switched the slides too quickly. When you pass the football field, you try not to wince when you see Choa latch onto his arm like she belongs there. He used to always pull away.
The worst part is that these stolen glances are all you have of him. He’s blocked you on everything, which feels weird to think about. Jake, who’s always gentle, always forgiving, always offering second chances—even to people who don’t deserve it. Maybe this time you’re one of them.
You have no right to be upset. Not anymore.
And so you wrap yourself in your studies, check out new extracurriculars, even try to make new friends on campus who know nothing about Jake. You try to rebuild, try to go back in time before that fateful day in high school when you met him. But it’s been far too long.
He was a part of you, so deeply ingrained in your daily life. How could you act like you two never happened? Like your relationship never existed? How could he do it so well?
And then, you have to remind yourself. You'd already been doing that anyway.
–
“So what did he do?” Jay questions, tuning his guitar while Sunghoon and you sit in his living room. “Did he tell you he was done paying for your stuff or…”
“Shut up,” you grumble, already agitated enough as you scroll through Suji’s Instagram. You couldn’t even muster the energy to be jealous over a photo of Jake and her holding up peace signs next to each other. You just feel empty. “Nothing happened.”
Jay rolls his eyes. “He’s usually texting one of us to get you to answer his messages by now. It’s been crickets from him for the last two weeks.”
You swallow hard. He used to do that?
Jay’s gaze flickers toward you and sighs as he fiddles with his guitar strings. “You know, I really don’t get the two of you,” he mumbles. “Like you already rejected him in high school, you’re practically just stringing him along at this point—”
You sit up. “Excuse me?”
He shakes his head, dropping the guitar onto his lap. “Jake told us,” he starts hesitantly. “That you ran away when he tried to confess last year.”
‘But that’s not the full story,’ you want to scream out loud.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon laughs as if recalling a memory. “Dude! Remember in the summer when he started going to the gym with me?”
Jay cringes. “Yeah, and he told us it was because he’d be starting this season, but we knew it was just because you said you liked macho guys.”
You shake your head, ears warming at the thought. That’s insane.
“Oh, and that stupid ass ring,” Sunghoon adds, clutching his stomach. Your hand instinctively clutches at your necklace, fingers brushing the chain. “His mom beat the shit out of him when she found out how much he spent on it.”
You twiddle with the ring through your shirt. You should've taken it off by now. He'd already thrown his away. So what use was it leaving him if all you were going to do was hold on?
“Why would he do all that for me?” you mutter, not realizing that you said your thoughts out loud.
Jay shrugs. “Love makes you do stupid things.” And then he sighs. “Go easy on him, okay? You know how he is. Jake’s a sensitive boy. Especially when it comes to you.”
You look down at the ground, shame bubbling up in your chest. Jake loved you. He really did.
–
You smile from your view of the auditorium, even from the back, feeling like a speck of dust in the full house. A bouquet is in your hand as you nervously find your seat. Jake’s right. Everyone’s here to watch.
You could see Jay and Sunghoon’s tiny heads toward the front, pushing down the bitterness of not being able to sit as close as they were. It's not fair, you think. You had to buy a last minute ticket off a student who could no longer make it while they don’t even like musicals. You shake your head.
This isn’t about you. It’s Jake’s big night.
The lights dim. Your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—steps onto the stage in a football jersey that looks almost exactly like his real-life one. The audience quiets at his entrance. As he delivers his cheesy opening monologue, you mouth the words with him. He’d practiced it so much in front of you. Pride wells up in your chest. He doesn’t stutter once.
Even when Suji joins him on stage, even as they sing together during their characters’ first meeting, you couldn’t help but smile.
The scenes blur as you lose yourself in the show. You watch the characters as they are and not as your ex and the girl you desperately wanted to hate. It was actually fun. The cheeky glances, the perfectly rehearsed dance scenes. The way the main character so seriously thought that singing was going to affect his football career. It made you laugh, made you tear up, made you suck in a deep breath when Jake leaned into her.
And because you’re still you, and because the wounds still feel fresh, you close your eyes. You don’t have to know if he really did it or not. It doesn’t matter. It’s his moment.
‘If only I felt like this the whole time,’ you thought to yourself. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to psych yourself up to find him afterward and pour your heart out to him. You shiver at the thought.
But Jay had said it: love makes you do stupid things.
And you do. Love him.
Enough to buy him flowers. Enough to admit that you’re done hiding. Enough to risk asking him to love you again—even if there’s a chance that he already moved on.
–
“Bro,” Jay starts, with tear-stained cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again. I can’t be crying like that in front of everybody.”
“Quit football,” Sunghoon says, patting Jake on the back with unusually red eyes. “Just focus on this musical shit. I swear you could make it big time.”
Jake chuckles, watching as the auditorium empties of guests. “Thanks, guys. I’m glad you two liked it.”
God, he wishes you were here. He could imagine exactly what you’d say when you walk up to him, with a small smile you try to suppress. Saying good job while ruffling his hair. Trying to act like you didn’t cry like everyone else. Jake smiles, quietly, at his own thoughts. It’s ridiculous, coming up with hypotheticals when you’d already made it clear. You don't want to be with him anymore.
“Jake.”
His heart instinctively skips a beat.
When he turns, the air in his lungs escapes him. You’re holding a bouquet so big it hides most of your frame, looking at him expectantly as you push it towards him. His eyes widen, unable to speak or even take the flowers from you. Is he dreaming?
“You did a good job,” you say, trying to sound as genuine as possible, wanting him to feel your sincerity. “You killed it up there.”
“Thanks,” he says shortly, finally taking the flowers from your hands. He can’t help but stare.
“I—” you try to push out, but Suji rushes to the stage to tap Jake on the shoulder.
“Hey.” She smiles up at him. “We're heading out soon for the celebration. Did you still want a ride with me?”
“Damn, even musicals got afterparties?” Sunghoon mutters to Jay, who attempts to shush him.
Jake returns a smile. “Yeah, just give me a second.”
And when he turns around to look at you, to finally hear what you have to say, your eyes are glossed over. Maybe you’re too late. Maybe this is idiotic after all. It's been weeks. There's no guarantee he'll even listen.
“I just wanted to say congratulations,” you mutter, though you've changed the words you meant to say entirely. It's supposed to be: ‘I’m so proud of you. Will you take me back? I’ll stop being so mean. We can tell everyone we’re in love—yes, even Jay and Sunghoon.’
But old habits die hard. And Suji—beautiful fucking Suji—crushed every ounce of confidence you had to come up to him in the first place.
“That's all,” you say, shooting him a small grin. It doesn't quite reach your eyes. He notices. Jake always does. Just never knows the reason why.
Before you can step back, he grabs your wrist, spinning you into his arms. Like the male leads do in those stupid romcoms.
“Don't,” he whispers. “Please… don't run away this time.”
You stare up at him, searching his gaze.
“Man, what the fuck is going on…” Jay whispers behind the two of you.
Sunghoon shrugs. “You think they finally…?”
Jake turns his head to give a disgruntled look to his two idiotic friends, and they shrink, making their way down the stage to finally give the two of you more privacy. He turns his attention back to you, wrist still in his hand, and gently moves it down to take your hands in both of his.
“I thought you didn't want to come,” he starts, licking his lips through the nerves. “Why are you here?”
Your cheeks heat up. Fuck. Where do you even start?
He draws circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. “Why?” he asks again, more confident this time.
It would be easy to act like your old self and push out a half-assed excuse. That you just want to be supportive, even after you’ve broken up. That you don’t miss him at all. But you're too tired to pretend like Jake's absence in your life didn’t feel worse than when you were with him.
“Because…” you start, with a shaky breath. “Because I wanted to talk to you.”
His brows furrow. “About what?”
And you feel your heart pumping in your chest, your palms slick with sweat. This is harder than you thought.
“I wanted to—” You swallow, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “I wanted to apologize. With the ring. The one you threw away.”
You see Jake's ears turn a bright shade of crimson. “Actually—”
“But I couldn’t find it,” you cut in. “No matter how hard I looked. I tried. I really, really…”
You start to choke up. Because fuck. He'd gotten you that ring to confess to you. Spent all his pocket money so that he could get something he knew you'd love. Had it engraved with the letter J. Your Jake. Your handsome, talented, smart, and wonderful Jake.
“...really want to get back together,” you finally let out, eyes shining underneath the stage lights as tears threaten to spill over. “I'm sorry, Jake.”
His breath hitches, hands releasing yours so suddenly. Your heart clenches. “You broke up with me,” he mutters.
You nod. “I-I thought I needed to. To find myself. But… you were right. I was just running away from my problems.”
You swallow hard, correcting yourself. “Our problems.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “So is this the part where you expect me to forgive you?”
Your heart clenches. “I'm sorry,” you say again softly.
“You still haven’t even given me a reason,” he scoffs. “So tell me why. Why do you want to get back together when—”
It’s like slow motion, what you do next. You cup Jake’s face right into your hands, crashing your lips onto his. In front of Sunghoon. In front of Jay. In front of the whole cast and crew who were packing up to leave. The same people he’s had to make excuses to about why he suddenly looked so distraught these past few weeks. You pull back, breathless.
“Because I love you,” you say, loud enough to elicit gasps from your watchers. You don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed anymore. Because the words fall naturally from your lips, like breathing. And it's like music to his ears.
“I fucking love you,” you repeat, hands still on his cheeks. His mouth parts open, breathless. He blinks. Once. Twice. And then he smiles, tears forming in his eyes. Jake swoops in, his lips finding yours again. His mouth moves against yours in tandem, slow and passionate. Your eyes flutter shut, soaking in the taste of him. You missed him so much.
When he pulls away, a shit-eating grin lights up his face. “Finally,” he whispers, cheeks flushed. “You finally said it back.”
You lightly swat his shoulder. You should've known he was trying to egg you on. Jake and all his damn questions.
“I love you too,” he mutters against your temple, squeezing you against him. “I love you so much.”
He peppers kisses all over your face, and you hear gagging on the sidelines.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he mutters into your hair. “That shit fucking hurt.”
You smile sadly. “I promise—”
“YOU TWO WERE DATING?!” a familiar voice cries out. Of course. Nosy-ass Sunghoon. You resist the urge to drop kick him right then.
“I have a better question,” Jay pipes in. “Are we invited to this afterparty too or…”
Jake furrows his brows, turning to the idiotic duo. “What afterparty?”
Sunghoon and Jay bombard you with questions about your secret relationship, but mainly just start arguing about who was gonna call the taxi for the party they still desperately wanted to go to, since Suji had already left.
Running far away from the auditorium, Jake and you giggle as the two idiots try to chase after you. When you both reach his dorm, he doesn't waste one second after you close the door to lift you over his shoulder. You yelp as your feet lift off the ground, squeaking when your back hits the mattress with a soft bounce.
He sets the bouquet softly on his nightstand before hovering over your frame, and his knees sink into the mattress as he traps you underneath him. Jake strokes your cheek lovingly, his hand trailing down and down until it reaches the edge of your skirt. Still as short as ever. Thighs so pretty underneath the thin fabric.
“I missed you,” he sighs, hands trailing to the edges of your panties. He strokes your plush skin, sending shivers down your spine. You want to roll your eyes, deflect the warm stirring in your core as he scans your figure, eyes clouded with lust. But you’re supposed to be turning over a new leaf. Honesty and all that.
“Imissedyoutoo…” you mutter lowly, rushing through your words.
He moves closer, ear practically touching your lips. “Hm?”
You lose patience, baring your teeth and nipping his helix. He flinches, glaring at you with a playful scoff.
“You said you weren't gonna be mean anymore…” Jake sighs, tone dripping in mockery as he pouts. And you want to say something more, but Jake’s hands land on your ass, giving you a subtle squeeze.
You know what. You'll humor him. Just this once.
You bring your lips to the ear you just bit, kissing it lightly. Steady hands trail down the fake football jersey he adorns, and to the painful bulge of his shorts. Jake sucks in a deep breath. You chuckle, amused at how suddenly it hardens. So easy to arouse.
“Sorry,” you whisper, licking his outer shell. He shudders against your touch, your breath on his neck triggering goosebumps all across his arms. You squeeze him through the fabric, his head falling to your shoulder. “I’ll stop…”
“Don’t,” he lets out through ragged breaths, as you stroke him languidly. You chuckle. He’s so cute. Cheeks tinged with pink. It makes you want to do worse things to him...
“Lie down,” you command, and he gladly takes your place on the bed. Your knees encase him now, tugging his stupid jersey over his head. “Let me make it up to you…”
His muscles are so well-defined, glistening under the light of your dorm room. You trail kisses down his chest, licking down his abs. Salty. Just how you like him. Jake squirms underneath you as you tug his shorts down, his dick slapping your chin on the way up as it springs free. Jake almost cums from the sight, tip flushed red and pulsing with need. To feel you. To be so buried deep inside you that he can feel the head poking through your stomach.
When you move your head down to kiss his hardness, he digs his fingers into your shoulder. “No, baby,” he mutters. “Come up here, hm?”
You furrow your brows. Why the fuck was he trying to interrupt you during your apology?
“Wha—”
Jake cuts you short, manhandling your waist as his fingers press into your hips. He positions your knees on both sides of his head, turning you around. He pushes your mini skirt all the way up to scrunch around your midsection. Yes, you might have an amazing view of his throbbing cock, but now you can't see his beautiful fucked out face. He breathes in the scent of your panties with hooded eyes, nose grazing your clothed folds.
You pout. “I thought I was the one making it up to you—”
“You are,” he chuckles, interrupting you instantly. He pushes your ass down to his face with one hand, using the other to press your chest flush against his body. Your face inches closer to his member. Oh. That's what he's doing.
“Pervert…” you mumble, coyly reaching out for him. So thick and large that you need to use both hands to engulf him, pre-cum dribbling out of him as if on command.
“I am,” he mumbles, pulling your panties low enough to give him access to your cunt, lying just below your knees. He licks a stripe up your drenched folds all the way to your puckered hole. You wither against him. “Call me whatever you want, baby. Just sit on my face when you do it.”
Your hips land down on him softly as your thumb spreads his liquid down his engorged length. This position was new to you, meaning it was also new to him. But Jake moves expertly like the quick learner he is. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your folds, pink muscle lapping at your labia like a man starved. Your tongue sticks out to offer kitten licks over his tip.
But Jake hasn’t had you in weeks. And he knows what he wants. And it’s not the weak jutting you do against his face, or the shallow sucking you offer his engorged cock. No. He wants all of you. The sick part of you that would degrade him, that would rile yourself up like all those nights before. And he doesn’t want to have to mention a stupid nickname some stupid girl said to bring it out of you.
There were more healthy methods, he’s sure, to guide you right where he wants to be. And so Jake’s hands grip your ass, pushing you down on him harder. Forcing your hips to grind back and forth against his face at the rabid pace he sets, nose sticking in between your folds slightly as his tongue laps at your clit. Like this. Dirty. Raunchy. Aggressive. He fucking loves it.
“Ngh—” you cry out, propelling him to push himself deeper in your mouth. You take a deep breath so his cock can slide through more easily, taking as much of him as you can to drown out your warbled moans. Your tongue finds the underside of his thickness, tapping him as you start to gag. And when Jake reaches the back of your throat, he gives you a second to calm yourself before he bucks his hips up into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, remembering to hollow your cheeks as he shoots forward. But it’s hard to stay focused when his wet, pink muscle pushes into you.
“Fuck—Taste so good, baby—” The squelching sounds that mix with Jake’s moans against your bundle of nerves are obscene, sucking and flicking his tongue with a fervor you try to match now. Your tongue curls up to meet the underside of his girth, bobbing your head up and down with ferocity. Anything to please him.
“Mmmm—” you moan around him. Your mouth feels so fucking good, but your pussy on his lips was like actual heaven. He could eat you out all day. As a reward. As a punishment. Anything.
And he breathes your scent in again, groaning once more. He pushes his nose closer to your folds, the tip of it engulfed in your wetness. You almost gag around his dick at the intrusion, saliva pooling at the base of his cock. You wrap your thighs around him tighter, bouncing on his face like he was nothing but a sex toy. Erratic. Desperate. Yes. Just like that. Fuck him like you never want him out of your sights again.
He knows you're close, knows by the way you start scratching at his thighs like an agitated pet. But, no. Jake needs it. Needs you to cum all over his face. Make a mess on him. Of him. His tongue plunges into you now, index finger coming up to play with your clit.
His cock pops out of your mouth with little resistance as your body goes slack with pleasure. You're just licking at his dick with a loose hand at this point, eyes rolling back from ecstasy.
You whimper against the slickness of his sloppy mouth, drool continuing to fall out of the corners of your mouth through your slurred speech. “Ngh—No—Let me—Fuck—Jakeeee—” you try to say, but it all sounds nonsensical.
Jake understands, more than you know, as his heart constricts so deliciously. 'My poor baby,' he thinks. Just wants to make him feel good. Wants to make it up to him so bad. But you don’t know that the only thing that could make him happy right now is for you to choke him out with your sopping cunt.
“Mmm—Ngh—Ahh—” He’s too good down there. Too fucking messy. Why does he do this? Why does he love making you sound like a fucking animal? Your toes curl, the grip around his shaft tightening as your back arches even more into him.
You feel it. But it's different from usual. It feels like too much. Like an impending explosion. You claw at his thigh even more, all of a sudden panicked. “Jake—Let go—Jake—”
When he shakes his head, his tongue swipes your clit left and right. His grip on your ass pushes his nose more deeply into your soaked folds. You whimper, cheek nuzzling against his length in desperation.
“I'm serious….” you whine as you try to pull away. This is weird. You feel weird. You try to run away from it, that foreign feeling. But it's no use. Jake's too smart, too quick. He presses you down on him harder, hugging your waist, suctioning your clit, cheeks flushed from how quickly his mouth works against you.
“JAKE!” you scream as your thighs clamp around him, hips shuddering uncontrollably. Like a hose turning on for the first time, a spray of your juices lands onto Jake's chin and neck, coating him in your dampness. He welcomes it, tongue sticking out to taste as much of it as he can.
You cry above him, tears landing on his dick that still rubs against your heated face. He laps up every last remaining bit of your climax desperately, like they’d dry up too quickly if he didn’t. You whine, grinding yourself on him to steady your heart rate. When he’s fully satisfied, Jake frees you from his clutches, lying you down on the bed so your head can finally rest on a pillow.
His cock is still incredibly stiff. And you're still in tears.
“You… fucking… dick,” you say in between sniffles, not believing you could ever climax that hard in your life. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?”
And he knows what’s going through your head. Because old habits do, in fact, die hard. And now you probably think he was out fucking anyone and everyone during the weeks-long hell that was your breakup. Jake chuckles, pulling your skirt down. He bites his bottom lip at the sight of your folds. Glistening with his saliva and your juices. He fists himself tightly.
“Still so jealous, baby?” He smirks. God, please let him indulge in his pouty girlfriend at least once more.
“No, but be honest,” you mumble. “Did you—”
“Fuck other girls?” he finishes your sentence, scoffing playfully at the ridiculousness. Your eyes narrow.
“Well, did you?”
Jake spent almost every day crying, unblocking and blocking your number over and over again just to see if you'd notice. But he can tell you all that later. Because right now, you're giving him a death glare that only makes his cock throb harder.
“No, babe,” he mutters, swiping his wet tip against your even more drenched folds. So puffy after all he's put it through. He peppers kisses on your shoulder. “You know I’d never.”
And you do. He’s only ever been with you. Will only ever be with you. You know that. But still. The wheels are already turning in your head. You know… you're usually the one worried about these things. Doesn't he deserve a taste of his own medicine?
“Imagine if I did—”
And he slams his dick into your plushness, eliciting a scream from you. He doesn’t even let you complete your evil plan.
“FUCK—”
“Don't finish that sentence,” Jake glowers, brows furrowed. You lick your lips deliciously. "That's not funny."
“See how it feels?” you whimper, as he delivers another harsh thrust, your shirt riding up your stomach from the impact. You arch your back off of the bed as Jake groans into your neck, licking a stripe up your jaw.
“All this just ‘cause I made you squirt,” he mumbles angrily, wincing as your pulsing walls squeeze his length into a tighter grip. “So fucking immature.”
You chuckle evilly. “Immature like who? Sungho—”
His childhood friend’s name doesn't even leave your lips when Jake clamps his teeth into your neck. Hard. “OW—”
A taste of your own medicine. But his skin grazes something then—a thin chain that he's seen before but never questioned. You never wore it when you fucked. A circular hardness underneath your shirt that weirdly looks like…
He tugs on it before you can protest, and there on the chain is a ring. With J engraved on the inside. His gaze softens. And you become a blumbering mess underneath him, shy with embarrassment. “I can—Explain—Just—”
Jake pulls out enough so his tip is the only thing suctioned in your folds before pistoning into you harshly once more. You whimper.
“Shut up and let me fuck you,” he mutters into your ear, before engulfing your lips in his. With a newfound energy, Jake pounds into you with urgency, pace brutal against your already sore pussy. His hand comes up to grab your tits, spilling over your bra from the impact of his movements. So rough. So mean. Damn, you were rubbing off on him.
You have this aching desire to flip him over and ride him back into submission, but the slapping of his hips into yours devolves your thoughts into unintelligible moans.
“Ngah—Fuck—Oh my god—”
Jake’s mouth leaves yours as his eyes travel downwards to the piece of jewelry. He likes how it looks on you. Sitting so nice between your bouncing breasts. Maybe, he’d buy you a necklace next. A pretty Tiffany necklace to go with the pretty Tiffany ring on his pretty girlfriend’s pretty finger. Fuck. You’re so fucking pretty.
He brings the ring up to his mouth, biting down on the metal, before he lowers himself onto your lips once more. With the ring in between his teeth, he grabs at your jaw to open for him. Jake transfers it over to your parted lips as you catch the ring with your tongue, coated in his saliva. He dives down into you, your tongues battling as the coolness of the metal moves between your mouths. His thrusts are slower now, but you moan just the same.
Drool drips down both of your lips, the ring getting passed between you two in the movements of your open-mouthed kisses. He lets up, the necklace falling wetly onto the pillow. He admires the red marks the chain leaves on your neck. Maybe a Tiffany choker instead?
And his thrusts deepen, until your cervix repeatedly kisses his mushroom tip. He wished you could see your expression right now. So needy. So perfect.
“Jake—Baby—” When the pet name leaves your lips, Jake lets out a deep, guttural groan. Like he'd been waiting his whole life for you to say it.
“Yes, baby?” He repeats after you, sweat beading down his forehead as he continues to split you open, pumping into your tightness with urgency. His hands are pushing your thighs open now, admiring how the ring sits sloppily on your neck as he jackhammers into you.
“I love you,” you moan out, your hands reaching for his face. “I love you so much.”
He looks at you with glassy eyes, soft and tender. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.
“I love you too.”
And he spreads you apart further, fucking you into the squeaking mattress with his pulsing dick, so big that it fills you everywhere you need him. He pushes in and out, evoking a new set of tears to stain your cheeks. “Baby,” you cry out. “I'm almost—”
“Wait for me,” he pleads, elbows falling to the sides of your head. He buries himself in the crook of your neck. “Can you, baby? Please—”
You try to nod as he's ramming into you as deep as he can go. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, about how good you are for him, how pretty, how perfect, how he loves the marks you leave him, how he wants you to control him, how you’re the only one he’d ever be with in any lifetime ever.
“Ngh—” His hips snap forward with everything he can give. He feels it now, too. That coil that threatens to spill inside you. But he can't. No condom. No birth control.
And when your hips rise, clenching around him, your orgasm hits you like a truck. You mewl out in pleasure, crying as Jake tries to pull out of you. But you suction him so well, too well, that it's a little too late. He twitches deep inside of your pussy. And his mouth falls open as the first spurts of cum spill, but nothing escapes his lips.
“Fuck, baby,” he whines. He needs to pull out. But your cunt feels so damn good… So warm… So wet… And so much of himself has already spilled inside you… It's okay, right? To fill you up with all of it? But he has self-control. He swears it.
“No…” You whimper when he actually pulls away, his seed dribbling everywhere.
“...’m sorry, babe,” he groans, as his hand wraps around himself, stroking languidly. “I’m so sorry.”
Jake’s cheeks are flushed as he pumps the remainder of his climax on your drenched folds, painting your clit a milky white. He sees the first of his juices push out of you, his fluids like cream all over your puffiness.
“Fuck,” he moans, his fingers coming up to spread it all across your folds. But when you look down, all you feel is empty. All you feel is the need to push down against his fingers and take him all over again.
Jake's eyes widen as he lets out a shaky breath. You look so desperate. For what? He's not sure. But he can't deny his baby anything. He can't deny himself either. He wants to see it just once. Seems like you do too.
“Can I?” he asks in a low whisper, fingers spreading your folds apart to watch more of his load seep out of you. And you nod, shyly, relieved you didn’t have to beg for it yourself, already going through too much exposure therapy for one day.
And so Jake gathers the cum that's gushed over his digits, and with a shaky breath, he pushes them back into you. You tighten your grip on his biceps.
“Fuuuuck—” You cry out when he starts pumping them in and out, slow but still so fucking deep. His veiny fingers always know which parts to knead.
Jake’s eyes are in a daze, obsessed with how his cum goes back in so easily—even when you’re still so tight and so sensitive. Everything feels so fucking drenched. And like this, he wants to see you come undone again.
“One more, baby…” he pleads in a low whisper, pressing butterfly kisses on your eyelids. He licks the tears that spill from your eyes. So pretty like this. “You want to make it up to me, right?”
You can only whine in response, hands shaking as they clutch onto him for dear life.
“Hm?” He asks for confirmation, curling his fingers up to the spongy spot inside you. He grinds his palm on your engorged clit. Whimpering out a pathetic ‘yes,’ you let the pleasure overtake you once again. Your body feels like it's on fire. Too hot. Too much. But still, your back arches up into him, whimpering.
“Come on,” he whispers into your ear. Low and steady. “Give it to me.”
And you can practically hear the mess that his three fingers are creating as they pump into your folds, can feel the stickiness of your mixed juices coat your inner walls. But you shut your eyes, letting the warm tingling overtake your core. Yes—Right there—Fuck—
“I'M—” you screech, but it's no use. Your head falls back against the pillow as you sob. And Jake curses underneath his breath as you spray all over him once again, massaging your clit as he pulls his fingers out to watch. Your hips rise to meet nothing, just your body spraying so beautifully against his torso. His dick could harden once more any second now from the sight. He relishes in it, admiring his work as his cum pushes out of you again. Thick and creamy.
You look down too, seeing the fucked-out state he's put your body into. Maybe you would've been right to flick his forehead and call him every insult in the book for filling you up like that. But fuck. Could you ever have him cum outside of you again if it felt that good to have his cum inside you? No, you'd definitely need to get on the pill ASAP.
Jake’s gaze falls onto your face now, at your bruised lips and your dried tears. But the ring catches his eye once more, the one he hadn’t seen in a year. And his heart flutters.
“Babe?” he starts, lying softly next to you. He wraps you in his arms, not minding the dampness of the sheets below. He’ll clean you up later.
“Mmm?” You respond, on the brink of unconsciousness. Satiated. He touches your chain, the other hand wrapped around your stomach, giving a reassuring squeeze.
“How long have you been wearing our ring like this?” Your breath catches. You'd hoped that he'd forgotten, that the conversation could wait for the morning when your heart wasn't thumping so loud. It takes you a second before you respond.
“Since you gave it to me,” you admit, slowly. Jake can feel the warmth creep up to your ears. And he wonders how he's never seen it, how you seem to hide it so well after all the times he's undressed you before. But then again, you’ve always been good at keeping secrets.
Still, he smiles. Because even after you walked away, even when you said you were done, you still kept this piece of him. Wore it so beautifully around your neck, too.
Fuck—he’s never letting you walk out on him like that again. If you even hint at breaking up, he might actually end up begging on his knees and—
“Not like it matters anyway,” you cut through the silence grumpily. “You threw yours away.”
He lets out a surprised laugh and pulls you closer, squeezing you tight. You pout. What’s he so jolly for?
“What do you mean?” he asks cheekily. “That never happened.”
You turn around abruptly, facing him with furrowed brows. “I literally saw you—”
Your words are cut short when his mouth finds yours, one hand steadies your jaw as the other reaches blindly into his nightstand. A drawer opens. He pulls back just enough to show you the turquoise box, one eerily similar to the one you have in your closet, as he flips it open.
His ring. Silver and engraved with your initial. But how…?
“I guess I'm really good at pretending to throw things,” he answers before you can even ask. Thought I’d be a little dramatic that day…”
You smack his shoulder, but your hand massages the spot soon after, swallowed by the wave of relief that crashes over you. He didn't really let go like he made it seem. He was still yours, even when you thought you lost him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you grumble, pinching his cheek. All he does is chuckle.
In one smooth motion, Jake lifts your necklace and unclasps it, letting the ring unfurl out and into his palm. You don’t stop him.
He looks at you for a second, as if asking for permission. You offer Jake your hand instead of speaking. He slips the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger, kissing your knuckles. Then he slides his own ring back where it belongs, to where he’s always kept it. Jake smiles up at you, planting another sweet kiss on your lips.
And you know you’ll wear it proudly this time. Without him having to ask.
“I love you?” he says, gently, like he needs to hear you say it back just one more time. Just to make sure. And you kiss him again, warmth coating your features.
“I love you too.”
His heart clenches in the best way possible.
Damn, he could really get used to this.
epilogue
Jake runs to the benches, grabbing at his water bottle like it’s his last salvation. He gulps it all down in seconds, sweat seeping down his body. Practice was way too intense today.
“Oh my god, Jakey,” a lilting voice punctures through his ear. “You're literally dripping.”
His eye twitches as she enunciates the last word.
“Choa,” he starts, shooting daggers at her. He's too exhausted to put up with this today. Or ever. She was graduating in a few months anyway. He might as well say his piece. “First of all, my name is Jake. And second of all, it makes me really uncomfortable when you say things like that.”
Choa pouts, tugging his sleeve like a toddler. “Why?” she giggles. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No.” He pulls away, not even bothering to look at her. “I just don't appreciate how you talk to me.”
She glowers, thrown off by his disposition. He's usually so sweet, so polite. What happened?
“It's ‘cause of your friend isn't it? You know she was so fucking rude to me—”
“My girlfriend,” he corrects immediately. Choa’s hands drop down to her sides. Jake pays her no mind, packing his stuff into his duffle bag instead.
“W-what?” she stutters out. “Since when?”
He shrugs, finally slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Since forever.”
“What?!” she screeches. “How come you never told—”
“Oh Jakeyyyy,” you sing out in an octave higher than your regular speaking voice. He presses his lips together to prevent the laughter that almost seeps through his mouth.
“Yeah, babe?” He calls out, looking past Choa. You're standing with your arms crossed, eyeing her down from a few meters away. A bright new necklace shining above your shirt.
Your gaze flickers back to him, not bothering to waste your precious energy on the small, vicious girl. You tilt your head to the side, beckoning him over in a silent command. And he follows.
Your loyal little puppy.
Jake takes your hands into his just to really rub salt on Choa's wound, your matching rings clinking against each other.
“Do you remember Gaeul from the backstage crew?” you announce proudly, the bob-headed girl long-forgotten. “She wants to hang out with me tomorrow!”
Jake smiles, ruffling your hair. “That’s great!”
“She's throwing something at her apartment this weekend, too,” you slide in. “Maybe… we can go together?”
“Oh yeah, Suji told me—” And he stops himself. But it’s too late. You’re already frowning.
“Okay, so let me go ahead and take Jay instead…” And he pouts at your words.
“Not fair,” he mutters, but you see the smile he suppresses. 'What a freak,' you think to yourself.
You click your tongue, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “...I'm biting the shit out of you later.”
And if Jake had a tail, it most definitely would’ve started wagging.
jake lapping up sweet juicy coochie🤓☝️just desperate and slobbering all over it to the point hes speaking incoherently and soooo pussy drunk
sim jaeyun 𝓧 female reader
sh4r1n0t3 ᪄ the spirit of much!jake possessed me … ၃ ִ
snyp: or... when your boyfriend is obsessed with your cunt. | wc: -1k | cw: afab reader • oral (f) • overstimulation • reader goes limp • pussy drunk jake • smut | mdni .ᐟ
wiplist. masterlist. (out of order!) requests.
your thighs tremble around your boyfriend’s head—and it’s still not enough for him.
you mewl out… your back arches so deep that you’re able to feel the pull of your spine bow against the mattress. “mmpf!” you squirm. “jake… jake… holy—oh my god…” all of your writhing simmers into limp cries as you melt beneath him.
the knot tying itself in your stomach twists into a decadent pain as your boyfriend continues to lap at your sore, raw cunt. it hurts—it hurts so good.
jake’s spent what feels like hours with his head shoved, and buried between your thighs… and he doesn’t plan on stopping any time soon. “just like that,” he groans, tongue flattening against your cunt… lapping circles around your clit.
he begged you—practically fell to his knees when he saw you… clawing at the waist of your shorts, desperate for even the smallest taste of your pussy. “i need to.” your boyfriend swore. jake’s hand cups your through your underwear, mouth already watering as he massages the mound of your cunt.
“‘feel you throbbing… ‘gonna let me taste?”
you nod, shy… just like you always do before he ends up sloppily making out with your pussy.
“fuck you’re sweet.” arousal drips down his chin. the bottoms of the strands of hair falling into his eyes are wet—coated in your slick, much like his lips: glossy and sticky with cum. two of his finger work inside of you, curling, pumping—all while he drools and spits into your slit before licking it all back up.
“oh my god! ‘pussy’s fucking amazing...” he squeezes your chest like a stress-ball, hips rutting against the mattress as all of your moans fuel his chubbing cock. at one point, he gets so pussy-drunk, all of his compliments melt into small, babbled-out “thank you”s and “yes”s.
“please, please, please. ‘one more, let me have one more,” and “so good, so fucking good… thank you, oh shit, thank you, thank you, thank you.”as you allow him to assault your cunt with his mouth, fists dying, fingers relaxing and curling into his hair as your hips buck against his face.
“use me… use me, please, baby.” he whines, loving the way your enlarged, pulsing clit bumps against the tip of his nose as your overstimulated hips spasm whilst he slobbers all into your cunt.
there’s no point in breathing heavily, pushing out a soft, weak, “enough…”
he’s so far gone he can’t even hear you… the only thing on his mind is wholly consuming you.
YOUR TURN — 1. A phrase used in a gangbang to tell the next person waiting that it’s time for them to step in and get involved.
2. A slut’s opportunity—the moment when it is finally her chance to act, indulge, and surrender herself after others have already taken theirs. The phrase emphasizes delayed gratification, where the receiver eagerly awaits her turn to be used or to participate after hearing others go before her.
content tags/warnings: hyung line x reader, reader is horny and desperate, men are assholes, inspired by the show series euphoria. explicit content (smut): porn with no plot at all, gangbang, face fucking, facials, nipple play, fingering, oral fixation, unprotected sex, degrading language, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling etc), double penetration, protected anal sex, slapping, hentai like expressions, handjob, overstimulation, tits fucking, squirting, lack of verbal consent in some scenes, choking, pain play, creampie, this is straight up porn but have a potential romance at the end. lmk if i missed something. WC: 17.2K
It wasn't like you were some kind of slut, right?
Who were you kidding? Any girl with a working pussy would drool if she stood close enough to those four men. Not just because of their looks, not just because of the sharp edges of their jawlines or the way their eyes seemed to strip people down without touching them, but because how they confidently carried themselves. Their scent. That mix of cologne and sweat that made your throat dry the second they passed by. It wasn't normal, not the way your body reacted. Not the way your thighs pressed together when you thought of them. But you kept telling yourself it was. It had to be.
Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun, and Park Sunghoon.
Four names that rang louder than any lecture in your university halls. Four names whispered in bathrooms, shouted across freedom walls, written down in anonymous confessions like some fucking campus legends. Everyone knew them. Everyone wanted them. And everyone, at least once, wondered what it would be like to be touched by them.
People pretended to sneer at their lives, at the rumors tied around them, but the truth always leaked through—envy, hunger, the kind of desperate need nobody wanted to admit out loud. Because deep down, every damn rumor about them only made them more untouchable, more godlike.
And then there was that one rumor. The one that tore through the university like wildfire.
The gangbang story.
The most scandalous, dirtiest thing anyone had ever whispered, and yet nobody could stop talking about it.
Nobody could prove it. Nobody knew if it was just a story made up by someone bored, but fuck, if it had been real... if it had been real, then you weren't sure what was worse. The fact that people called it disgusting or the fact that it made your whole body clench with jealousy.
How fucking scandalous. How fucking disgusting.
And how fucking pathetic that every time you thought about it, your chest got tight, your mouth went dry, and all you could think was: if that rumor had ever been true, if those four had ever taken a girl like that, then why the fuck wasn't it you?
"Someone caught Jake making out with a girl from Tourism!"
"Someone said Sunghoon's been fucking that sophomore from another building!"
"Have you heard that Jay is smoking at the back of the building while the TA sucks him off? Geez, what a lucky girl."
"And that cheerleader said Heeseung likes girls who can spread their legs wide!"
Your hands gripped your pen tighter, knuckles turning pale, jaw clenched as the chatter bled into your ears. Every fucking sentence was the same—different girls, different places, different dirty details—but the same four names, always the same four names. It was exhausting, it was maddening, and it was starting to chew holes into your focus.
"Stop it," you hissed finally, snapping your head up to face the group of girls clustered near the corner. "There are people here who are trying to study. Maybe try doing that instead of running your mouths about men and their sex lives. Do you have no shame?"
The table went quiet, their smirks twitching as they shared quick glances between themselves. One girl rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but none of them pushed back. They just leaned back into their seats, whispering low but not low enough, as if they wanted you to hear every giggle, every stifled laugh.
You tried to turn back to your notes, but your pulse wouldn't settle. You're not annoyed that they were gossipping.
You were jealous.
Jealous that every rumor had someone else's name attached to it. Jealous that every filthy story, every detail, every moan that lived in their words belonged to another girl and not to you.
Fuck! It's unfair! It's so unfair! Why was it always someone else? Why did it have to be another girl they kissed, another girl they bent over, another girl who got to hear their voices from fucking?
You exhaled sharply through your nose, trying to drown it out, trying to stay steady. But every word of theirs came back to the same thing. Their dicks. Their moans. Their fucking. And all it did was remind you that you hadn't had a single taste of any of it, not even once.
Fuck it. When was it supposed to be your turn?
You tried. God, you fucking tried. You started dragging yourself to every fraternity party you caught wind of, even ones you had no business going to, all in hopes of catching just one of their eyes. You would push through sweaty bodies and strobe lights, pretending to dance, pretending to laugh, only to learn that Jay had already gotten bored and left long before you even stepped in. The disappointment would choke you, but you still kept showing up.
Like some desperate puppy waiting for scraps.
You started waxing everything, every inch of your body, until your skin burned. You bought bottles of expensive perfume you couldn't even afford, ones that clung to your clothes and hair until it made you dizzy. You thought maybe, they liked girls who smelled clean, who looked like they had their shit together, but deep down you knew it didn't matter. Because how would they ever notice when you didn't even have the guts to open your mouth?
"Uh... do you know, like, how to talk to Heeseung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual while your eyes betrayed you, glued to the tall figure across the library.
He was sliding books off a shelf, completely unaware of the way your whole body went tense, your throat dry, your palms slick with sweat. Even from a distance you swore you could smell him, that same maddening warmth that clung to him whenever he walked past.
Your friend blinked, eyebrows raised as though she couldn't believe the words had actually come out of your mouth. "About what? You know damn well he doesn't talk to girls in public. People only talk about how he fucks them hard and then disappears. No contact. Nothing. Ever." She scoffed, dismissing it with a wave of her hand, before her gaze sharpened on you. A smirk tugged at her lips and she let out a loud laugh that made your ears burn. "Wait. Don't tell me you're actually planning something. You think you're gonna get him to fuck you?"
Her laughter made your eye twitch. You felt her gaze scan over you, up and down, picking apart everything you were, everything you weren't. She reached over, patting your shoulder in a way that only made you feel smaller.
"It's okay to dream big," she said, lips curving into a cruel little smile, "but let me shatter that for you. He would never, okay? Hmm?"
Something in your chest snapped at her words. Anger rose, clinging to your ribs until you thought you'd choke on it. How fucking dare she? How dare she look at you like that, laugh at you like you weren't even worth a second glance? How high did she think of herself, how low did she think of you?
But you swallowed it, burying the sharpness down where no one could see. You curved your lips into a laugh that sounded almost real, almost lighthearted, even though your nails dug into your palm under the table. "Silly you," you said sweetly, tilting your head like it didn't sting, "I was just trying to interview him for sports journalism. Don't get too talkative about fucking, though. It sounds like you're reflecting your own frustrations."
You smiled brighter, watching her expression falter for just a second before she scoffed again and turned back to her notes.
You needed to think. You needed to dig deeper into yourself, to find a way, any way, because you refused to lose. You refused to accept being invisible.
Every single morning became a routine.
You would drag yourself out of bed before the sun even touched the sky, forcing your heavy eyes open as you stood in front of the mirror. You styled your hair until not a single strand was out of place, you layered makeup carefully until your reflection looked like someone worth noticing, and you scrubbed your skin until it stung, until it shone smooth under your fingertips. Your closet was picked apart daily, clothes scattered across your floor, until you found the outfit that made you feel like you could walk down the hall with your head high, like you were worth a second glance.
And every time, when the clock struck the hour you knew they would be walking down the hallway, you stood ready. Shoulders straight, steps measured, chest tight with nerves as you waited for them to pass. You tried to look effortless, confident, perfect. But it shattered you every single time when none of them looked your way. Their eyes stayed forward, their voices low between themselves, their expressions unchanged as if you were nothing more than air. Your hands would grow limp at your sides, your confidence bleeding out of you as you glanced behind your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, helplessly staring at their broad shoulders moving further and further away from you.
The frustration followed you. At night, you laid in bed with their faces behind your eyelids, your thighs pressed together until you couldn't stand it anymore.
You touched yourself with the thought of them, not just one but all four, surrounding you, using you, making you theirs in every filthy way you had imagined. You came undone to fantasies of their hands pulling your hair, their voices groaning against your ear, your body stretched thin for them, and the pleasure left you gasping, sweating, shaking in the dark. Yet as soon as it ended, as soon as your heartbeat slowed, you already hated yourself. Because no matter how hard you wanted it, morning would come again, and the cycle would repeat. You'd wake up early, fix yourself to perfection, pass them in the hallway, and watch them ignore you.
The days blurred into each other, but the whispers always found you. Another rumor spread like fire, another story about them with another girl, and it burned you alive from the inside.
You wanted to scream at how unfair it was, how humiliating it felt that you couldn't stop aching for something you might never get. Sometimes you almost laughed at yourself, at how pathetic you must have looked, stuck between jealousy and desperation, unable to let go.
"Wow, what perfume do you use? You smell so good!" Your classmate's voice cut through your thoughts one day, her hand brushing casually across your arm. "And your lotion too? Your skin feels amazing."
The touch startled you, and the question almost made you snap. "It's just Victoria's Secret," you hissed automatically, jerking your hand slightly to free yourself. But the moment you saw her surprised face, you realized what you had done, and quickly masked it with a sweet smile. "Sorry, I'm in a bad mood, forgive me? It's Velvet Petals. But I exfoliate with Dove first. That's probably why."
Her lips curved into a bright smile, her eyes scanning you with something almost admiring. "It's okay! You look really, really, really pretty, you know? And you're so sweet. I just hope you don't fall into the wrong hands."
The way she said it made your stomach twist. You knew exactly who she was talking about, and the mocking tone in her voice when she mentioned "wrong hands" made it worse. Those fuckboys. That's what they all called them, as if the four of them weren't the most wanted men on campus, as if everyone's mouths didn't water at the thought of being ruined by them.
You held your smile, but inside, the anger returned, pulsing hotter than before. They all thought they were above you. They all thought they could talk about them like that and laugh at you for wanting something they secretly wanted too. They were liars, hypocrites, hiding their hunger under judgment while you carried yours openly in your chest.
You pressed your lips together, leaning closer to her so your words came out soft, almost playful. "Maybe falling into the wrong hands isn't always such a bad thing."
Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face as you sat back again, smiling politely like nothing had happened.
But in your head, the thought echoed, louder, heavier, filthier.
If those hands were theirs, you would fall gladly.
The party was dragging, the music pounding but lifeless, the people are drunk but boring. You wondered for the tenth time why you even bothered showing up.
The whole campus had been buzzing about this night, everyone whispering about how it would be wild because they would be here. But the most boring part of it all was exactly that—they weren't.
No sign of the four men everyone was expecting. And for that, you hated yourself a little. You hated that you had wasted another expensive outfit, another spritz of your favorite perfume, another hour in front of the mirror just to sit there and look pretty for nothing.
Your cheek rested lazily against your hand as you swirled the watered-down alcohol in your glass. Your eyes lingered on the girl across the room, perched on the couch, laughing with a group of guys who had crowded her like she was the crown jewel of the night. She looked so damn proud of herself, flipping her hair and soaking up their attention like it was worth something.
You almost felt bad for her—because those men? God, they were fucking ugly. The kind of guys who had nothing going for them except being loud and drunk enough to fill her space. And she was pretty, too pretty for the trash sitting beside her, too wasted to notice she could do better.
You sighed, your eyes dropping back down to your glass, watching the last pieces of ice melt into nothing. Maybe you should leave. Maybe you should give up, call it another wasted night, drag yourself back to bed where you could rot under the covers and imagine what it would feel like if the four men ever actually noticed you.
"Hi."
The single word pierced through the noise around you. Your breath caught, and you nearly threw your glass across the table. Your back went ramrod straight as you turned, your heart slamming against your ribs so hard it hurt. When your eyes landed on the figures behind you, everything inside of you went still before spiraling into chaos.
Jake. Sunghoon.
Two of them. Standing there. Talking. To you.
Your throat closed, your tongue heavy, your thoughts shattering into broken pieces as if the universe had finally played its sick joke on you. What the fuck was happening? Jake and Sunghoon—out of everyone in this crowded room—were standing in front of you, looking at you, waiting for you.
"H-Hi?" The word slipped out, so small, so shaky you almost cringed at yourself.
Jake's smile spread, his gaze running over you like he was unwrapping you with his eyes. He didn't hide the way he lingered on the pink silk dress clinging to your body or the way his eyes glinted when he caught the gems glittering delicately across your skin. The weight of his stare made your thighs press together without you even thinking about it.
"Where's your friends?" He shifted his hands casually into his pockets, flashing a smile. "I organized this party, you know. I almost felt bad seeing you sitting here alone."
You swallowed hard, the words tangling on your tongue. This was the moment you'd been waiting for, the one you had begged for, dreamed of, touched yourself over. And yet, your body betrayed you, trembling as you almost flinched under the weight of their presence.
"M-My friends a-are... uh... there." Your shaky hand lifted, pointing weakly toward the dance floor, and the second you did it you wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.
Sunghoon's low laugh broke the air. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he could see straight through every flimsy layer of composure you were trying to hold together. "And they exclude you? What bad friends you have."
The closeness of him made your brain dissolve. His perfume, his cologne, the sharp tang of alcohol still lingering on his lips—God, you wanted to taste it, to drown in it. He didn't even touch you, but his nearness was enough to make your body tense, your lips parting before you realized it.
"Want to join us?" Sunghoon asked smoothly.
"W-Where?" you squeaked.
"Well, we can drink outside—" Sunghoon started, but Jake cut him off with a voice that left no room for argument.
"At Heeseung's private room." His tone was steady, certain, his stare locked on you, waiting for your reaction.
For a split second, Sunghoon's eyes widened at Jake's bluntness. You caught the quick glance he shot him, an unspoken message passing between them, before his smirk slid back into place. He didn't need to argue. He didn't need to say a thing. Because the moment the words "Heeseung's private room" left Jake's mouth, your body had already betrayed you.
Your lips trembled, your voice breaking into a whisper. "Yes."
And there it was—the one word that sealed everything.
Jake's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he tilted his head ever so slightly, studying you like you had just handed yourself over. Sunghoon's grin widened, his teeth flashing as he straightened up, amusement flickering in his gaze.
"Good girl," Jake murmured under his breath.
Your chest tightened, your breath caught, and every ounce of you screamed that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had dreamed of, the moment you could never come back from.
And you didn't fucking care.
The door creaked open and Heeseung froze at the threshold, his tall frame stiffening instantly as his eyes landed on the scene.
Jake had one hand tangled in your hair, his cock buried between your lips, his head thrown back as he groaned through clenched teeth. Sunghoon was draped across your back, his chest pressing heavily against you, his hand pinching and rolling your nipples mercilessly while his lips brushed your skin, leaving icy trails that made you shiver.
Your body was positioned like some offering—hands and knees spread like a cat, ass swaying slightly with every thrust of Jake's hips.
"Seriously?" Heeseung's voice was carrying irritation. He shut the door, though he didn't walk away.
The noise made you whimper, muffled around Jake's cock, the vibration of your moan sending shudders up his spine. Jake gritted his teeth and hissed through a laugh, thrusting harder until the blunt head of his dick slammed against the back of your throat. He held you there with one firm grip in your hair, pushing until your nose bumped against the hard plane of his stomach. Your eyes watered, your chest heaved, but the desperation inside you drowned out every thought of resistance.
It hadn't started like this. At first, it was only drinks, games, laughter and teasing, until Jake leaned forward and suggested body shots. You hadn't even hesitated; the heat of their attention had already melted through you, and Jake had almost laughed at how quickly you had fallen into their hands.
And now, here you were, drooling and choking on his cock while Sunghoon twisted your nipples until your whole body jerked with every pinch.
"Your favorite member is here," Jake taunted, his gaze dropping down to you, then flicking toward the figure standing silently by the door. His smirk widened as he forced another thrust into your mouth. "Bro, she's been asking where the fuck you were. You took so long, she already came in her panties just from Sunghoon teasing her tits."
Heat shot through your face as the humiliation wrapped around you. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, staining the gems near your eyes, but none of it stopped you from flattening your tongue against the base of his cock, licking every inch you could reach while your throat spasmed around him. The shame twisted into a darker, sharper, more intoxicating feeling than you ever imagined.
This was it. This was the dream. The one you'd fucked yourself to in silence night after night, the one you had burned for. And now you were living it, choking, moaning, tears streaking your face, every filthy detail of it everything you had ever wanted.
You couldn't see Heeseung clearly from where you knelt, but you felt him. His gaze was heavy, dragging over you, making your pussy clench at nothing. You knew he was watching the way your lips stretched around Jake's cock, the way your chest heaved as Sunghoon tortured your nipples, the way you looked so fucked out and desperate already.
"The rumors about us are already spreading, and you have the guts to do this?" Heeseung's voice finally cut through with restrained anger. He stepped closer, his shoes quiet against the floor until his shadow stretched across you. You could feel his eyes on your crying, messy face, and it only made your cunt throb harder, soaking your panties.
Jake laughed through a groan, his hips grinding against your lips as his cock slid deeper. Sunghoon joined him with a low chuckle, his cold mouth pressing into your nape as his fingers tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The silk slipped easily, baring your chest fully to Heeseung's view, your nipples stiff and swollen as Sunghoon's thumb and finger rolled them until you moaned around Jake's length.
"Come on," Sunghoon murmured against your ear, his voice is taunting. "You know we always love sharing." His lips traced your skin as his hand pushed your dress lower, exposing more, leaving nothing for modesty.
Heeseung's jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed him. He couldn't look away. His cock stirred against his pants, hardening slowly with every sound that left you, with every pathetic little whimper muffled by Jake's cock. He watched the tears streak down your face, the way your hand lifted shakily from the floor, reaching for him.
Your fingers trembled as they hovered against his thigh, then slid higher until they brushed over the hard bulge in his pants. Your eyes lifted toward him, glassy, half-lidded, drowning in tears and lust, staring directly into his.
Heeseung exhaled sharply, his composure cracking.
And when your palm pressed firmer against him, stroking lightly through the fabric, his cock throbbed in response.
Your back arched off when Heeseung's hands moved to his belt. The sight alone was enough to make your chest tighten and your pussy throb, your body reacting with a hunger you couldn't disguise. Sunghoon caught it immediately, his laugh was low against your ear, mocking the way you looked so desperate without shame. He shifted off you, giving Heeseung room.
"Does Jay know about this?" Heeseung asked, his eyes shifting toward Jake and Sunghoon as if demanding an explanation even while his hands were already pulling at his clothes.
Jake's grin widened, still slick with your spit as he slid his cock from your mouth. "It's a surprise," he answered simply, as if that explained everything. His hand squeezed the back of your neck one last time before releasing you, and your body slumped against the mattress, chest heaving, throat raw. But before you could even recover, Heeseung's hands pressed against you, guiding your body flat onto your back, his touch so commanding you followed without question.
The world tilted when the fabric of your dress slipped from your shoulders, your body fully bared under their stares. Sunghoon leaned close again, his nose brushing your cheek as his voice dipped. "Look at those pretty eyes." His words curled into your skin, and you whimpered before turning toward him, your lips crashing into his. The kiss was messy, desperate, your mouth opening wide for him, your tongue tangling with his like you could pull the heat out of him and swallow it whole.
Jake's fingers hooked your panties and dragged them down your legs, his eyes glued to the slick mess between your thighs. The moment he saw your pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing, a growl broke from his throat.
Heeseung's response was just as guttural, his eyes narrowing as he dropped down onto his knees beside Jake, their shoulders brushing as if they were competing for the same prize. Without hesitation, they lifted your legs, spreading you shamelessly open, one of your thighs resting on each of their broad shoulders.
Sunghoon didn't let you breathe. His mouth consumed yours, his tongue pressing harder, his teeth tugging your bottom lip as his hand cradled your jaw, keeping you locked against him. You barely managed a moan into his mouth when the first hot lick dragged across your clit, the sudden sensation shooting up your spine that you tore yourself away from Sunghoon's kiss. Your eyes flew down, wide and dazed, only to meet Heeseung's sharp gaze staring up at you while his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking with deliberate, teasing pulls.
Your mouth fell open, your chest rising and falling rapidly, but you didn't dare blink. You couldn't miss the sight of his face buried between your legs, his tongue flattening against your sensitive bud and flicking so slowly it bordered on torture. Your thighs shook, trying to close, but his grip on your hips was unyielding.
"Hey," Sunghoon muttered, his fingers squeezing your chin until your eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was dark, narrowed, a flicker of jealousy twisting in it. "I was the one who found you. Give me some attention."
Your whimpers came small, but you still obeyed, your hand trembling as he guided it down between his legs. The hard ridge of his cock was burning against the fabric of his pants. The moment your palm pressed against him, your body shivered from the weight of him.
They were massive. You had heard the whispers from other girls, but no rumor had prepared you for the truth. Your fingers wrapped around him, squeezing gently through the fabric, and Sunghoon's lips parted, his breath catching as his hips rocked into your touch.
"Fuck," he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as if your touch alone was enough to push him toward the edge.
And then Jake bit down on your inner thigh, hard enough to make you cry out, his tongue following the sting with a wet, sucking kiss that left your skin marked. Heeseung's lips abandoned your clit, only to press lower, his tongue flattening against your dripping entrance before slurping noisily at the wetness pooling there. The sound was obscene, messy, and you moaned louder than you ever had, the combination of Jake's teeth marking your thighs and Heeseung's mouth devouring you unraveling every last thread of composure you had.
"Shh." Sunghoon's voice was ragged as his hand pressed against your jaw again, his hips grinding into your palm while his other hand fumbled with his belt. His pants dropped down his thighs, and when he freed himself, your eyes widened, your mouth watering instantly at the sight. His cock was flushed and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum, so thick it almost made your stomach flutter with fear.
Your legs were trembling uncontrollably, but you couldn't close them, not when Jake and Heeseung had you pinned wide open, their mouths swapping positions greedily between your clit and your entrance.
Jake was hungrier, reckless with the way his tongue plunged into you, his lips sucking against your folds so loudly it drowned out even the bass from the music downstairs. You could feel him moan against you, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, his whole face buried as if he wanted to drown in your pussy.
"Say ah," Sunghoon knelt in front of you, his cock gripped tightly in his hand. You obeyed instantly, your lips falling open, your eyes wide and locked on his face.
The expression he wore was enough to make your stomach twist—his brows drawn tight, his lips parted as if he were biting back a curse, his gaze focused entirely on your mouth as though nothing else in the world existed.
"So eager," he whispered hoarsely, his cock brushing against your lips as pre-cum smeared across them. "Fuck."
Heeseung rose slowly from between your thighs, his lips and chin slick with your wetness, his chest lifting heavily with each breath. His gaze drifted down over your trembling body, then to Sunghoon's cock hovering dangerously close to your lips, before his large hands moved to your chest. The weight of his touch was deliberate, kneading the softness of your breasts, his thumbs dragging over your nipples until they tightened again under his attention.
The combination was unbearable, your body jerking at every angle, twitching against their hands and mouths as if you no longer had control over it. Sunghoon's sudden pace had your cheeks hollowing, his cock stretching your lips as he thrust with low, restrained groans.
At the same time, Heeseung's fingers twisted your nipples mercilessly, sharp flicks that sent heat rushing to your core, and Jake's tongue was buried inside you, fucking your entrance with wet, eager strokes. Each movement pulled you in a different direction, your body caught in the middle of all three of them until you felt yourself unraveling at the seams.
Your head was spinning, dizzy from the sensation. The world tilted and blurred, your muffled moans spilling out against Sunghoon's cock, your tears streaking down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, but in the best way, better than anything you had ever experienced, better than every fumbling encounter that left you aching and unsatisfied.
This was hunger given form, this was desire being fed by three men who knew exactly how to break you. Every flick of Heeseung's fingers, every thrust of Jake's tongue, every push of Sunghoon's cock made your stomach coil tighter and tighter, until the knot inside you threatened to snap.
And then it did.
You came so hard it tore a strangled cry out of your throat, your body convulsing with the force of it. The orgasm crashed into you violently, your back arching off the bed, your legs trembling as Jake's hands clamped down on your thighs to keep you open.
You almost bit down on Sunghoon from the shock of it, your mouth clenching, your throat spasming, and he pulled back with a sharp hiss, his hand replacing himself on your lips to keep you from choking. But Jake didn't stop; he didn't even pause. His tongue twisted deep inside you, lapping greedily at everything you gave him, his head moving side to side as if he wanted to drink you dry. He held you down through every wave, prolonging the orgasm until you thought your body might tear apart from how hard you were shaking.
"Fuck, ah—fuck, shit," Sunghoon cursed above you, his voice breaking into a groan. His grip tightened on your jaw as his release hit suddenly, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face in quick, forceful bursts. Some streaked down your lips, some across your cheeks, and one stray spurt landed in your eye, stinging faintly but drowned out by the overwhelming tide of pleasure still wrecking your body.
You barely processed it, too lost in the pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm and the relentless flicks of Heeseung's thumbs still torturing your nipples. The sensation was too much, every nerve in your body stretched taut as Jake's mouth sealed back over your clit, his tongue circling lazily as he wanted to drag every last drop of climax from you.
Your sobs broke into gasps, your chest rising sharply, your face sticky with Sunghoon's cum, your throat raw from the moans you couldn't stop. And still, Heeseung's eyes stayed locked on you, darkly watching you writhe.
"I need to fuck her already," Heeseung finally muttered, already standing.
Jake stopped what he was doing and glared at him, his jaw clenched. "Who the fuck said you were gonna be first? I was the one who talked to her. I was the one who had her on her knees until now." His hands went to his shirt, ripping it over his head before shoving his pants down impatiently, his irritation burning through every motion.
Sunghoon sighed, throwing his head back, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed your shaky hand and wrapped it around his cock. "You two are always fighting about this shit," he muttered, ignoring the tension and letting you stroke him, his hips lifting slightly into your fist. His lashes fluttered shut as a low groan escaped him. "Fuck, that's it. Don't stop, baby. Just keep going. That's all I need."
"Fuck off," Heeseung snapped as he took a step closer. "You've both had enough time playing with her. I've been waiting, and I'm not standing here any longer."
Your eyes darted between them, your chest rising in short, desperate pulls of breath, before landing on Sunghoon again. He was still focused only on you, his hand over yours, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "Feels so fucking good," he groaned, his voice breaking, his neck exposed as his head fell back.
"That's why I get to be the first to fuck her," Jake shot back, standing tall now, his cock hard and throbbing against his stomach. His smirk was sharp, challenging. "You were late. I've been making her drip for me."
Sunghoon leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear, his lips brushing the corner of your jaw. "Ignore them, baby. Just focus on me." His other hand slid around your waist, tugging you closer until his lips pressed firmly against your neck. He kissed you hard, then nipped at your skin, his teeth dragging up to your jaw before biting again. You gasped at the sting, your hand stroking him faster, your wrist straining with the effort.
"Such a good girl," he moaned, his lips vibrating against your throat. His fingers slipped down your belly until they found your soaked pussy again, circling lazily around your entrance. The teasing pressure made you jolt, your moans tumbling out helplessly as he finally pushed one finger inside. Your walls clenched instantly, wrapping tight around him, and his sharp groan against your ear told you exactly how much he liked it. "So tight," he whispered, almost to himself, before sinking another finger inside.
"Sunghoon—" your voice broke, whimpering, the heat spreading too fast through your core as his hand worked inside you.
"Keep those pretty legs open for me, baby," he murmured, his lips dragging down to your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "Need to stretch this pussy for all of us. You want that, don't you? Want to take us all?"
Your only answer was a frantic nod, your lips trembling as your hand gripped his cock tighter, pumping him faster even as your own body shuddered from his fingers curling deep inside.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself too much, Sunghoon," Jake hissed, stepping forward. His hand shot out, pulling you roughly away from Sunghoon's grip.
You whined at the sudden loss, your body immediately protesting the absence of his fingers inside you.
"Shhh, darling," Jake cooed mockingly, wiping at your cum-stained face with his thumb before pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. His mouth was demanding, tasting, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before pulling back with a smirk. "Me and Heeseung will make you feel so fucking good. You want that, don't you?"
"Yes," you whimpered without hesitation, nodding quickly, your desperation spilling through. You turned on your hands and knees before they could even tell you, body moving on instantly because you knew. You'd heard the whispers. You knew this was how Jake liked to fuck—rough, from behind, with no mercy. "Please."
Jake's laugh was low, almost breathless as he stared at your ass. "Fuck, you don't even need to be told. So hot like this." His palm cracked against your cheek, the sting making you moan as he spread you open with his hands.
Your eyes flicked up, catching Sunghoon again—he was watching with his lip caught between his teeth, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking lazily as his gaze devoured you.
And then your eyes trailed higher, locking with Heeseung, who was standing in front of you, holding the base of his thick cock as if offering it to you. You opened your mouth instantly, ready to take him, but instead he grabbed your chin, tilting your head until you were forced to look up at him.
You sucked in a sharp breath when Jake's tip pressed against your soaked pussy, your entire body stiffening at the stretch before he even entered. His grip on your waist was bruising, anchoring you in place.
"Shit," Jake groaned under his breath, his voice breaking into a growl as he pushed in deeper. "How long has it been since you've been fucked like this? You're tight as fuck."
Your whimpers filled the air, your eyes locked on Heeseung's as he squished your cheeks between his large hand.
"Talk," Heeseung demanded, his eyes burning down into you. "Don't just sit there like a pretty little toy. Tell us what you want. Say it."
The moment he said it, Jake shoved his cock all the way inside you, the sudden fullness making your head drop forward with a cry.
"Moan louder. Scream our names. Tell us what to do to you," Heeseung ordered, pushing you to the edge as Jake's thrusts started to slam into you from behind.
"I—" you stammered through gasps, your body buckling under the rhythm. "I've been dreaming of this since first year." The confession tumbled out without filter, every word dripping with desperation.
Your honesty ripped a sound from both Jake and Sunghoon, low groans that mixed with the slick sound of your body being fucked. Heeseung's gaze hardened, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. Jake's thrusts grew harsher, his hips snapping against you with punishing speed.
"W-want all of you to use me—fuck me, please!" you squealed, your voice cracking as Jake's cock found that spot inside you and hit it mercilessly.
Jake's laugh was cruel, his words spilling out between moans. "Yeah? That's why you gave in so fucking easy? Thought we'd have to drag it out of you, but you just spread those legs like the slut you are." His hand clamped down on your arms, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you harder, each thrust shaking your body forward.
Tears pooled again in your eyes as you shook your head weakly, your voice breaking between cries. "N-not a slut! D-don't call me that—ah, f-fuck! Jake!"
But he only thrust faster, slamming into you, groaning at how you clenched so tightly around him the harder he degraded you.
"Yeah?" Jake's voice dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Then why the fuck are you here like this? Why are you dripping on me if you're not exactly what I called you?" His thrusts grew erratic, pounding straight into the softest spot inside you, making your knees tremble, making your nails dig into the sheets until your knuckles turned white.
You couldn't even answer him at first, because the way he was fucking you made your thoughts scatter, your mouth falling open as broken sounds spilled out. But then Heeseung was on you again, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling your head back so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.
"Come on," Heeseung murmured. His thumb brushed over your trembling bottom lip before tightening his grip on your hair, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Ignore him. Tell us what you need. Use that pretty voice."
Your chest heaved, your lashes fluttering, every nerve in your body screaming for more. "Want you—" your voice cracked, "want you all to fill m-my pussy up." The words came out broken, but loud enough for all of them to hear. Your body arched as another wave of Jake's thrusts sent shocks of heat through you, and you sobbed through your moan. "G-give me your biggest load, make me your toy for tonight—ahhh!"
Your scream broke off when Jake's hand slipped down, his fingers pinching your clit hard before slapping it over and over, sharp little bursts of pain crashing into the overwhelming pleasure. The mix had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your mouth falling open as drool slipped from the corner of your lips.
"Yes! Fuck, yes!" you squealed, your voice hoarse, your body jerking helplessly as the coil in your stomach twisted tight, tighter than before. Your thighs shook violently, your legs threatening to give out beneath you if it weren't for Jake's grip anchoring you in place. Every nerve screamed release, but he didn't stop, his cock drilling into you, his fingers punishing your clit until you were certain you'd break.
"Where do you want it?" Jake grunted against your neck, his thrusts almost brutal now, each one stealing the air from your lungs. "Where do you want me to cum, huh? Say it."
Heeseung tugged your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his again, his dark gaze pinning you as if daring you to answer wrong. Sunghoon's low groans filled the room behind them, the sound of his fist gliding over his cock only making the moment heavier.
Your lips trembled as you tried to form the words, every part of you shaking, drowning in pleasure, drowning in them.
"Anywhere," you gasped. "In my mouth, in my face, in my body, in my pussy—just fucking cum anywhere in me!"
"Fuck!" Jake groaned. His palm came down on your clit with a sharp slap that had your legs trembling so violently, your pussy clenching down on him with merciless tightness. The shock sent your body into another wave, your scream cutting through the air as you came hard around his cock, your walls fluttering, soaking him with everything you had.
The way you pulsed around him dragged him over the edge, his hips snapping forward with reckless speed until his cock throbbed and spilled, his hot cum spilling deep inside you in thick spurts that made your stomach twist with satisfaction. The moment you felt him paint your walls, you let out a long, broken moan, almost sobbing at how good it felt, how badly you'd needed it.
Heeseung finally let go of your hair, stepping back just far enough to watch you crumble under Jake. His eyes were locked on the mess between your legs, on the sight of Jake's cock still buried in you while his cum leaked out in slow, obscene drips.
His hand slid down his abdomen until he was stroking himself openly, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy. The look in his eyes told you he was seconds away from joining, and that thought made your clit twitch with aftershocks.
Sunghoon's chest rose and fell sharply as he leaned back, still stroking his cock at a steady rhythm, his gaze locked on you. His lips parted, his breathing uneven.
Jake's body eventually stilled, his forehead damp with sweat, his chest heaving with each breath as he looked down at your trembling frame. He pulled back slowly, letting his cock slide free from your swollen pussy. The moment he did, his cum began to spill out in a steady stream, dripping down your thighs and pooling between them.
He had never finished that hard before—he knew it, and from the stunned silence, so did the others. Even Heeseung's brows had furrowed at the sight, as if he couldn't believe how much you were leaking.
Your eyes fluttered half-lidded, your lashes wet with tears and sweat, your breaths shallow and uneven. Your body was heavy, limp from the storm that had wracked you, but somewhere deep inside, you found the strength to move your fingers, twitching weakly against the sheets. You weren't done. You couldn't be. You wanted more—you needed more. Your body begged for it, trembling but eager, your pussy clenching around nothing as if calling for another cock to fill you.
You forced your eyes open again, vision blurred with sweat and tears. And then—
"You're into this shit again?"
That voice. Deep, familiar voice, it cut through everything—the ringing in your ears, the haze in your mind, the pounding of your own heart.
Your pussy clenched instantly, as if your body recognized him before your brain could, a sharp rush of need flooding through you at just the sound.
"Took you long enough, Jay," Sunghoon muttered with a crooked smile, though his hand didn't stop stroking himself.
Jake looked up too, his chest still heaving, his hand dragging across his sweaty forehead, annoyance flickering across his features. Heeseung paused mid-stroke, his gaze narrowing, his jaw flexing as his attention shifted from you to the man at the door.
And you—your throat went dry, your lips parted, your heart slamming painfully against your ribs. Jay was here. Finally!
A soft, broken whine left your lips as your body shifted toward him. Jay's eyes sharpened, his expression was unreadable as he stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze swept over the room, over Jake still breathless, Sunghoon stroking himself lazily, Heeseung looming above you, and finally, it landed on you—sweaty, trembling, your face flushed and messy, your eyes wide and glassy as they reached for him.
He didn't move immediately. He just stood there, silent, his jaw tight, demanding the others explain without him saying a word.
But Heeseung didn't give him the chance. He gripped your legs firmly, dragging you down the bed until you were flush beneath him, your body spread and waiting. Jay's eyes narrowed as he caught the sight of your hand twitching toward him, so close yet so far, the longing in your movement almost pathetic in its honesty.
Before you could call out, Heeseung pinned your arms above your head, his fingers curling around your wrists with unrelenting strength. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and taunting. "No more waiting. I've already held back long enough."
And then without warning, he pushed his cock all the way into you in one brutal thrust.
Your scream ripped through the air, your body arching violently as he bottomed out, stretching you so suddenly you could hardly think. The slick of Jake's cum inside you made it easier, made it wetter, but it didn't stop the sharp, overwhelming sting of being filled again so completely, so roughly.
"Fuck—yes," Heeseung groaned, his forehead pressing briefly to your temple as he steadied himself, though his hips didn't slow. "Need to bury my dick inside this pussy before anyone else tries to stop me. If I wait another second, I'll lose my goddamn mind."
He began to pound into you without mercy, each thrust shaking your body, pushing you deeper into the mattress. The sound of it mixed with his growls and your cries until it was all one desperate rhythm. His pace was punishing, desperate, as if he needed to erase the traces Jake left behind, like he needed to make sure you remembered him the most.
Your eyes flickered open through the haze, and there's Jay.
He was still standing where he'd closed the door, but now his chest rose heavily. He was watching you, not Heeseung, not Jake or Sunghoon, but you—his gaze locked on your face, on the way your lips trembled around moans, on the way your eyes begged for him even while another man fucked you senseless.
The sight of him like that—stoic, his stare pinning you harder than Heeseung's grip ever could—made your walls spasm tight around Heeseung's cock. You couldn't move forward, couldn't reach Jay the way you wanted, Heeseung's weight pinning you down just as Jake had before. It was maddening, being fucked this hard while Jay stood so close yet untouchable.
"Look at you," Heeseung groaned, his pace ruthless, his cock battering your soaked cunt. "You're dripping, squeezing me like you never want me to leave. You love it—you fucking love it."
And he wasn't wrong.
Your mind was spiraling, torn between the brutal pleasure flooding your body and the heat of Jay's eyes locked on you.
Heeseung's hand slid up the side of your face, his fingers pressing into your cheek as he tilted your head toward him. The moment your lips brushed against his, you melted, kissing him back feverishly, moaning into his mouth as he swallowed every sound. His thrusts didn't falter, his cock dragging mercilessly against that spot inside you that had you unraveling so quickly, another orgasm barreling through your overstimulated body before you could even brace yourself. Your legs shook violently, your cries muffled by his mouth as you shattered around him again.
Jake, still hard and needy, didn't wait any longer. He stepped closer, ignoring Jay's looming silence, his cock already heavy and dripping. Sunghoon followed, stroking himself lazily, his smirk curling as he looked down at your messy face and trembling body. Heeseung adjusted his body and hold, his hand locking tightly around your waist as he slowed just enough to grind into you deliberately, rolling his hips in a way that pressed cruelly against your swollen clit and that spongy spot inside, teasing you, forcing more whimpers from your lips even as your body tried to recover.
When Jake and Sunghoon moved to either side of your head, you reacted instantly. Both your hands reached out to wrap around them, your fingers straining around their girth. A muffled moan escaped you, your eyes fluttering, as Sunghoon leaned lower, his hand sliding to your breast, kneading it roughly.
The sensation made you gasp, your lips parting, and Jake took the opportunity to rub his cock against your tongue. You sighed in bliss, your throat vibrating as you licked the tip, your saliva mixing with the sticky fluid still clinging to him from earlier. You sucked eagerly, slurping him down before switching, letting Sunghoon feel your tongue glide along the underside of his length, licking from his base to his leaking tip. All the while, Heeseung's thrusts grew sharper, pounding harder, each one jarring your body as he lost the battle with his own restraint.
"Fuck, you really wanted this, huh?" Sunghoon groaned, watching your lips wrap around him before sliding free. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding you lower, feeding himself into your mouth as his hips rolled slowly, deliberately. "Moaning with three cocks on you, and enjoying every second of it."
Your eyes watered as you let him push deeper, your throat tightening, but the messy desperation in your moans proved his words right. You pulled off with a wet gasp, kissing the head of his cock, smearing saliva across it before whispering against him.
"Love your cock... so much," you breathed, your lips brushing the tip, your eyes flicking immediately past him—toward Jay. That gnawing ache inside you swelled, and before you could stop yourself, your whine tumbled out. "Is Jay not gonna join?"
The room stilled at your words.
Jake chuckled dryly, tugging your wrist tighter around his shaft before thrusting into your hand with rough, impatient strokes. "You've got three cocks already and still not enough for you?" His voice dropped lower, his pace quickening as he fucked into your fist. "Can't even handle us together, but you're begging for more. God, you're insatiable."
Heeseung growled low in his throat, his thrusts growing faster, harsher, punishing you for even speaking Jay's name. Sunghoon hissed through his teeth as your grip on him tightened, his thumb brushing your spit-slicked lips.
"S-sorry!" you squeaked, your back arching violently as the three of them claimed every inch of your body with greedy, unrelenting hands. The sensations collided into each other, overwhelming, making it impossible to tell where one touch ended and another began.
Your skin burned under their palms, every squeeze, every slap, every tug forcing your body to twitch and your chest to heave with broken sobs of pleasure.
"Focus on us, you fucking bitch," Heeseung growled, dangerous enough to make your cunt clench so tight around him that his hips stuttered. He cursed, gripping your waist harder, his cock slamming into you with renewed force, each thrust demanding your full attention, demanding that you forget everything but him, but them.
Your eyes rolled back, your lips trembling, but you couldn't stop glancing toward Jay, couldn't stop feeling that magnetic pull toward his stare.
Jake grunted, his hand tangling roughly in your hair, yanking your head toward him as his cock brushed against your lips again. "Ignore him. You hear me? He's not the one inside you right now—we are. So open your fucking mouth and focus," his cockhead smearing across your tongue before pushing in, forcing your throat to stretch around him again. The taste of him mixed with the mess already dripping down your chin, and you moaned around his length, gagging slightly when he pushed deeper, his hips jerking at the sound.
Sunghoon, never content to let the others take more than him, pressed closer, his fingers pinching your nipple until you whined. "That's right. You're ours tonight, baby. All ours."
His hand slid lower, spreading you wider for Heeseung's relentless thrusts, his fingers brushing your clit in circles that made you sob.
Your words came out slurred. "Y-yours! All yours! F-fuck—I can't—ahh, I can't take it—"
Heeseung cut you off with a growl, thrusting deeper, harder, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each movement. "Yes, you can, slut. You'll take everything I give you." Your walls clenched even tighter around him, milking his cock.
"I'm not a fucking slut!" The protest tore from your throat just as another orgasm ripped through you, your body spasming violently.
Your legs tried to slam shut against the unbearable pleasure, but Jake and Sunghoon caught them instantly, spreading you wider, keeping you open, holding you there as Heeseung continued pounding into you mercilessly. Your moan stretched high, long, broken in its desperation as tears streamed down your face.
Heeseung pulled out abruptly, your cunt fluttering around nothing, before plunging three of his fingers inside you. The sudden stretch made your entire body jolt upward, your scream breaking into sobs as he fucked his fingers into you with a brutal pace. His palm pressed hard against your clit with every thrust, his thumb flicking over the swollen bud, making your vision blur and your mind scatter.
Your body shook violently, your head thrashing from side to side, your voice rising in hysterical sobs that filled the room. "Stop! S-stop! I'm gonna—I'm go-going to pee! Stop, wait! Please, wait—!"
Your arms tried to push them off, tried to squirm free, but Jake and Sunghoon pinned you tighter, one hand on each wrist, one grip on each thigh, keeping you spread open for Heeseung's relentless assault.
Heeseung's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he kept driving into your pussy with his fingers, your slick coating his hand, dripping down his wrist, the sound of it loud and wet. His cock twitched angrily in his other hand as he stroked himself in slow pulls, groaning low in his chest. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't fight it. Let it out for us. Show us how much you need us."
Jake leaned closer, his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs. The obscene squelching filled his ears, making his cock ache again. "Fuck—listen to her pussy. She's about to—" His words cut off with a groan as his own hips rutted helplessly into the air.
Your high-pitched scream tore through the room as the dam inside you finally snapped.
A gush of hot liquid burst from your pussy, splattering over your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath you, drenching Heeseung's hand and face as he ducked lower, moaning against the spray. The force of it made your ears ring, your vision blur, your body convulse helplessly.
It was humiliating, overwhelming, devastatingly good. You sobbed openly, your face slick with tears and spit, Sunghoon's cum already drying against your skin, and now your own release coating everything around you. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your legs twitching and kicking weakly until Jake and Sunghoon finally let them fall open to the side.
You curled inward, your arms wrapping protectively over your chest, your body folding small as though you could hide. But the sheets were soaked beneath you, the air heavy with the scent of sex, the room echoing with your broken cries.
"So good," Heeseung's lips parted against your soaked skin and licked at the mess you left on his face. His eyes fluttered shut, his strokes on his cock tightening, his hand gliding through the mixture of your slick and squirt.
"Get the fuck to the side. I'm going to taste it." Jake's hand already twitched toward you, greedy and impatient.
Sunghoon's laugh came rough and breathless, his chest rising and falling as he lazily stroked himself, his eyes locked on the wet ruin between your thighs. "Bro, shut the fuck up. You already had your turn. It's my turn now."
Sunghoon leaned forward, dragging his tongue over your cheek, licking at the tears that stained your skin before pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"Step aside. I'm not done yet." Heeseung shoved Sunghoon out of his way, his hand already on your thigh, forcing your legs apart with a strength that made your body jolt.
"W-wait—" your voice broke, a weak sniffle escaping as you tried to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly, overstimulation already threatening to unravel you further.
The stretch of your thighs, the way Heeseung's fingers pressed into your skin, it all made you flinch with both anticipation and fear. You weren't sure if you could take more, but your body betrayed you, your cunt twitching at the thought of him filling you again.
"Dude, no fun," Sunghoon muttered, irritation coloring his tone as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still tasting you there. His cock twitched in his fist, but he leaned back with a scowl.
"Three of you step back. You can't even take care of her." Jay's voice cut through the air, commanding, silencing all of them in an instant.
Your head turned instinctively toward him. The sound of his voice sent a violent shiver down your spine, your pussy clenching around nothing as though it had been waiting only for him. Your chest hitched, your lips parting on a desperate little whimper that you couldn't hold back. "J-Jay..."
Jake scoffed from the other side of the bed, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, but the flash of annoyance in his expression didn't hide the way his chest rose faster, as if even he knew Jay's presence shifted everything. "She's fine. Don't act like you're the savior now."
Jay's gaze flicked toward him, before returning to you. He moved closer until he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at your trembling body. "She's more than fine. She's a mess. Look at her." His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed over you—your soaked thighs, your trembling legs, your chest that still rose and fell unevenly. His voice softened. "She's mine to take care of."
Heeseung growled low in his throat, clearly unwilling to back off, his body still hovering over you. "We've already broken her in. Don't come here acting like you own her now." His fingers dug into your thigh harder, spreading you wider as if to make his point.
Jay's expression didn't shift, though his eyes burned darker. "Then move. Or I'll make you."
You breathe heavily, looking at the both of them. And you—your body trembled violently, torn apart by the clash of their voices, but deep down you knew what you wanted. Your lips quivered, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "I... I want Jay..."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Heeseung froze above you, his eyes narrowing dangerously, while Jake let out a low laugh, though the jealousy in it was sharp. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, biting his lip as though amused but also curious to see what Jay would do.
Jay leaned closer, his hand reaching out to brush your messy hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle after all the roughness you'd endured. His thumb stroked over your damp cheek, wiping at the dried tears. His gaze softened as he looked at you.
"Here I thought I was your favorite," Heeseung muttered, finally releasing the tight grip he had on your leg. Beneath the teasing, a mix of bitterness and disappointment that made your chest ache even in your haze.
Jake snorted, throwing a smirk in Heeseung's direction. "Don't flatter yourself. She probably still thinks you're her number one. She just wants another cock inside her because that's what sluts do." His words were cruel, but his retreat was obvious, stepping back from you, his chest still heaving.
Heeseung only shrugged at that, but his eyes flicked to you once more before he turned his head away.
Your lips trembled, guilt and shame mixing with the raw need still burning inside you. You tilted your head toward Jay, your voice coming out as the weakest of whispers. "D-do you want me to clean up first?" The moment the words left your mouth, your chest tightened—afraid he might flinch, afraid he might see you the same way Jake just called you.
But Jay only smiled softly, shaking his head as though the thought was absurd. "It's alright, angel."
The simple reassurance broke something in you. Your eyes stung all over again, but before the tears could spill, his mouth was already moving lower, pressing a trail of unhurried kisses along your inner thigh. Each press of his lips lingered. By the time his lips hovered just above your swollen core, his pointed nose brushing lightly over your sensitive clit, your back had already arched off the sheets in anticipation.
You gasped softly, when his tongue finally slid against you. Hot, steady, and so focused, his tongue swirled around your folds before slipping inside you, teasing your oversensitive walls with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The contrast to the brutal pace you'd been enduring was staggering—he wasn't just eating you out, he was savoring you.
Your hands flew instinctively to his hair, trembling fingers tangling into his dark strands as you moaned helplessly, your chest rising and falling with every wave of sensation he drew from you. "J-Jay..." His name slipped from your lips brokenly.
He hummed against your cunt at the sound, the vibration making you twitch as his tongue moved deeper, stroking places inside you that made your toes curl. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you still when your thighs tried to clamp shut around his head from the overwhelming pleasure.
Behind him, you could feel the others watching—Heeseung's silence heavy, Jake's low scoff, Sunghoon's quiet hum of approval—but all of it blurred into the background when Jay moaned against you, drinking you down.
You whimpered, tugging at his hair as your hips bucked weakly into his mouth. "S-so good... I can't, I c-can't hold it—"
Jay pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes dark but soft. "Then don't. Let go for me, angel. Just me."
And with that, he dipped his head again, his tongue flicking against your clit with quick, precise strokes while his fingers slid inside you, curling expertly until you were screaming, until your body was trembling so hard you thought it might break apart.
Jay let go of your trembling body, his lips brushing once more against your temple before he finally shifted back. The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt at the edge, the leather of his belt creaking faintly as his fingers tugged at the buckle.
You knew the night had only just begun, but here in this room it already felt like you had been devoured whole, like there was no way out.
"Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" Jay's voice broke through, deceptively calm, his palm gliding down the curve of your thigh, rubbing in a slow rhythm as if coaxing you into trust.
Your lashes fluttered, your chest seizing as though his words had cut the air straight out of your lungs. "H-Huh?" Your voice cracked, eyes wide, searching his expression for some sign of softness that might match the way he'd just held you.
From your left, Jake let out a muffled laugh, the sound harsh against the fragile silence that followed your confusion.
Jay's hand didn't falter. He pressed a little higher on your thigh, the pads of his fingers stroking, teasing, until finally one circled lower, grazing a place that had never been touched this way before.
His tone was as gentle as before, almost sickeningly so. "I asked," he repeated slowly, "have you ever been fucked in your ass, angel?"
The tip of his finger brushed against your rim and you gasped, the breath caught sharp in your throat as heat and panic flared all at once. Your body jolted, betraying you. You couldn't even find the words, your head turning automatically toward the other three. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon—all three watching you intently, not a single one offering you an escape.
You shook your head quickly, shame coloring your cheeks as your voice finally stumbled out. "N-No..."
Jay's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "On your arms and knees, then. I'll be gentle with you."
The smile was soft, but you could already feel the deception in it. You should've known by now—Jay only looked gentle when he wanted you to obey.
Your tears hadn't even dried when you felt his finger pressing more firmly at your rim, the tight, foreign intrusion making your body stiffen. The burn was immediate, sharp, a sensation your body didn't know how to handle. He twisted his finger slowly, deliberately, and the stretch made you whimper, your hands clawing desperately at the sheets.
"C-can't take it," you cried, shaking your head, your vision blurring again. Your body writhed under him, desperate for someone—anyone—to stop him.
"Hurts, Sunghoon. It hurts!" Your arm reached blindly for him, searching for comfort.
And Sunghoon leaned in instantly, catching your reaching hand, his lips brushing your temple in mock sympathy. "Shh," he cooed, the sound almost tender if not for the wicked edge beneath it. "I thought you were a good girl? You've been dreaming about us for so long, haven't you? This is what you wanted."
Your sobs shook your chest, but your body betrayed you again—clenching around Jay's finger, trembling from every deliberate twist.
On your other side, Heeseung moved closer, crouching low until his chest brushed against your arm. He caught your free hand and guided it toward him, pressing your palm around his cock. "Come on, baby. Use those hands. Don't just cry. Make yourself useful while Jay breaks you in."
Jay's finger pushed deeper, the slow stretch pulling another ragged sob from your throat. He watched you closely, his jaw tight, his cock already heavy in his hand as he stroked it lazily. His lips curved again, "relax, angel. Breathe. I'll make it hurt less if you beg me properly."
When Jay finally pulled his finger free, your body sagged in relief—but it was short-lived. The sharp tear of foil reached your ears, and your stomach flipped as the sound registered. You forced your head to lift, desperate to see him, but Sunghoon's hand kept you locked in place, his grip so firm on your hair that you couldn't move. He angled you down toward Heeseung's cock again, your mouth spreading open around him until you gagged.
You heard the faint snap of latex as Jay rolled the condom down his thick length, the squirt of lube slicking the air before his fist wrapped around himself, stroking with slow pumps. You tried to tilt your head to catch a glimpse, but Sunghoon tugged hard, forcing you to choke around Heeseung's cock. Your throat tightened painfully as you coughed against the intrusion.
"Hmp—!" Your cry was muffled, spilling against Heeseung's cock as Jay pressed forward. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your rim, stretching you in ways you weren't prepared for.
Jay's groan vibrated through the room, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider, making you tremble as the burn ignited again.
Your throat was stuffed with Heeseung's cock, and every shallow thrust into your mouth came with another humiliating gulp, gulp, gulp. Each noise mingled with Jay's ragged breathing as he sank himself slowly into your ass.
By the time his cock buried itself halfway, your hands had flown to Heeseung's thighs in desperation, nails scratching down his skin as your throat tried to adjust. Heeseung hissed sharply at the sting, then abruptly pulled out, your mouth gasping for air as you coughed and sobbed.
"Bitch," he spat, slapping your cheek with enough force to sting. Your head tilted from the impact, tears spilling harder as you whimpered against the mattress, your body trembling uncontrollably.
The sound of the slap cracked through the room—and the shift in the air was instant. Jay froze, his dark eyes snapping up, his jaw tight. Slowly, he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his cock still halfway inside your ass as he fixed his glare on Heeseung.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?"
"She fucking scratched me—" Heeseung started.
Jay's glare sharpened, cutting him off. His hand curled around your hip, steadying you as he leaned closer until his lips brushed your ear, his words meant for both you and Heeseung. "Apologize. To her. Now."
Heeseung's jaw flexed, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but under Jay's burning stare, he finally muttered, "...Sorry."
You sniffled, your face pressed to the sheets, too shaken to respond. Jay's grip on your hip softened just enough for his thumb to caress you. "You okay, hmm?"
You swallowed hard, unable to find your voice, and forced yourself to nod against the sheets. Your chest rose and fell in shuddering waves, but you needed him to believe you could take it.
Jay hummed softly, almost like praise. "That's it. Breathe for me, angel. Let me in. Don't hold back." His hips pressed forward again. The intrusion stretched you open slowly, your body fighting to keep up with his size. The burn sharpened into an unbearable sting, and you screamed into the mattress, toes curling tight against the sheets as you struggled not to collapse.
Sunghoon's hand smoothed over your hair, patting your head with a tenderness, so comforting that make you whimper. "Good girl," he whispered, as though you needed his approval just to keep breathing.
Then Heeseung moved closer, his hand sliding between your thighs to press against your soaked pussy.
"Sorry, baby." His palm cupped you carefully, you flinched at first, but when he leaned in, his lips closing over your nipple, sucking hard, the sharp edge of pain dulled under a rush of pleasure. The shift made your back arch violently, the cry that tore from you high and desperate.
"Ahh! F-fuck!" you screamed, voice cracking, torn between pain and bliss.
Jay grunted at the way your body squeezed around him, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to pull it back behind you like a lever. His other hand gripped your shoulder firmly, anchoring you while his hips snapped forward with force. Each thrust sent a wet smack echoing through the room, skin colliding with a punishing rhythm.
Heeseung groaned against your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his fingers pressed harder into your clit, rubbing circles that sent shocks of sensation racing through your trembling body. The mixture of Jay's brutal thrusts and Heeseung's eager mouth had you thrashing.
You never thought being filled that way could drag such a storm out of you. The sting that had first made you sob now twisted into something overwhelming, a blend of fire and honey that made your body betray you with every clench. Each thrust blurred the line between pain and euphoria until you couldn't separate one from the other, only the dizzy rush that kept forcing cries from your throat.
At some point, you lost track of who was where.
You were a doll passed between them, shifted and handled, your body too pliant to resist, too consumed by sensation to understand the movement until it was already happening.
When Jay lifted you with an arm hooked under your ribs, carrying your trembling weight as though you were light as air, your limbs hung loose, hair falling forward like a curtain, your head lolling against his chest. The world was hazy, sound muffled except for their voices and the unrelenting rhythm of flesh against flesh.
You moaned uncontrollably, the sound spilling out of you even before Sunghoon pushed inside your swollen pussy. He didn't wait, he didn't tease—he slid in deep, and the stretch dragged another cry out of your throat.
Jake positioned himself over you, his hands squeezing your tits roughly, pressing them together around the length of his cock. He thrusted between them with a feral need, groaning at the slick heat as he forced you to keep your trembling arms raised so you couldn't rest, so none of them were ignored.
Your muscles screamed, the burn in your shoulders mixing with the fire between your legs. Yet the harder it became to hold on, the more your moans broke apart into helpless sobs.
"Shit! So fucking good!" Sunghoon moaned, usually he was silent, the one who held back while the others filled the air, but now his restraint had shattered. His moans came rough and guttural, pulled from his chest with every thrust, his expression twisting into something close to pure bliss. Each time his hips met yours, the sound that tore from his throat was louder, rawer, until you realized he was trembling too—losing himself in you just as much as you were unraveling under him.
Your vision blurred at the edges, tears clinging to your lashes, the ringing in your ears drowning out everything but their voices and the wet sounds of bodies colliding. Orgasms tore through you one after another, piling so fast you couldn't separate them anymore. You were trapped in the spiral of it, begging without thought, "Y-yes, fuck, yes—I can't stop—I need it—please, don't stop!"
Your body betrayed you completely, arching up even as you wanted to collapse. The adhesive gems clinging to your eyelids sparkled faintly under the light, miraculously still in place as your eyes rolled back, your tongue slipping free from your mouth with no strength left to hold it in. You were a mess, unrecognizable even to yourself, but they devoured every second of it.
Jake groaned low in his chest as his cock pulsed, spilling over your tits, hot ropes covering your skin until you were painted in him. He slapped your chest once more, watching it smear across your breasts before stumbling back, his body giving out as he dropped onto the mattress, panting heavily, drained but satisfied.
The moment you were freed from him, your lips were claimed again. Heeseung and Jay's mouths fought for space against yours, kissing you with different kinds of urgency—Jay deep and consuming, Heeseung sharp and demanding. Their lips pulled moans out of you you didn't even know you had left, your eyes shut tight as your mouth parted helplessly between them.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon's cock dragged deeper inside you, angling until it brushed that spot that made your whole body spasm. The rhythm of his thrusts grew steadier, more desperate, his hips slamming into you with a pace that made your chest heave and your breath hitch against the mouths kissing yours. He was unrelenting, he couldn't stop himself, your body had unlocked something in him he never wanted to let go of.
Sunghoon's control shattered first. His jaw clenched, veins standing out along his neck as he pushed deeper, his movements rough and unsteady, every thrust dragging a desperate sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted back, a moan ripping from his throat as his stomach tightened, the pleasure consuming him faster than he could handle. He bit down on his lip, but it wasn't enough to stifle the way his body shook while his cock throbbed violently inside you.
You felt the hot flood of his release filling you in long, uncontrollable spurts. It spread thick through your core, making your walls clench tighter as though your body wanted to keep him there, to hold every drop.
The sensation was so overwhelming that your back arched high into Jay's chest. He caught you easily, his large hand spreading over your breast and kneading. His lips swallowed your broken moans, his tongue sliding deep until you whimpered against him, unable to keep up.
Your hips jerked when Sunghoon finally spilled the last of his release, the force of it pushing some of his cum to seep out around his cock. He slumped forward, chest heaving, but his grip on your waist betrayed his reluctance to leave you. He wanted to stay buried, to keep claiming you—but his body gave out, and with a low groan he pulled free, his length glistening as it slid from your swollen cunt.
The loss of him left you trembling, and before you could even breathe, Heeseung was already there. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers parting your slick folds without hesitation. He rubbed over your swollen clit in tight circles, faster, sharper, and your lips tore away from Jay's kiss to scream, your cry echoing through the room as a new wave of sensation tore through you.
Sunghoon's cum was still dripping from your pussy when Heeseung's fingers slapped against your sensitive clit. The sharp sting made your hips spasm, jerking upward uncontrollably, the sound of the wet slap filling the room. Your thighs shook, but Jay's hand on your chest kept you pressed firmly against him, forcing you to take it all.
"So fucking hot," Jay groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down just enough to leave a mark. He soothed the bite with his tongue before sucking at the spot, leaving his claim branded into your skin while you cried softly beneath him.
"Come on," Heeseung coaxed. He gave your clit another sharp slap that made you gasp, your entire body twitching. "Breathe. Deep. You've still got two cocks waiting for you."
Your body was trembling, the exhaustion in your muscles fighting against the need clawing through your veins. Every part of you screamed for a pause, a moment of stillness, but your lips betrayed you, spilling soft, broken words into the heated air.
"...cock... want more..." you whispered, not even sure if you meant to say it out loud, but the second it left your mouth, they moved.
They shifted you onto Heeseung first, his broad chest rising under your palms as he positioned himself at your entrance. Your thighs burned as you straddled him, but you couldn't stop yourself from lowering down, grinding until his thick tip slid past your folds, the friction making your entire body quiver.
Heeseung's eyes darkened immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you, feeling the way your heat stretched around him.
Jay stood behind you, his movements methodical as he tore open another condom with his teeth. He rolled the latex down over his length with one hand, the other already spreading over your lower back, holding you steady. His touch was careful, deceptively gentle, even as you felt the blunt press of his cock teasing your other entrance.
The stretch made you scream, your head snapping back to his shoulder as his cock slowly pushed inside your ass. Your tits arched forward, bouncing in Heeseung's face, and he groaned like he was seeing heaven itself, his mouth immediately latching onto one nipple. His tongue flicked hard before he began sucking greedily, moaning against your skin, drowning himself in the taste of you might keep him from unraveling completely.
He told himself not to get attached, not to think beyond the raw act of it but as he looked up, catching the sight of your face twisted with both pain and euphoria, your lashes damp with tears, your lips parted, your flushed cheeks glowing, he was gone. So fucking pretty, too pretty for this. His chest tightened, his teeth sinking into his lip, half-lidded eyes watching you lose yourself while he thrust up into you.
"Ahh—fuck! S-so good! Feels so good!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as both of them found their rhythm inside you.
Jay's arm slid tighter around your middle, pulling you back against him, while his other hand anchored hard on your shoulder.
Each drive of his hips made your body lurch forward, and every time he withdrew, Heeseung thrust upward to meet you, their cocks colliding through the thin barrier inside you. The pressure was relentless, unbearable yet addicting. You felt so full, so completely wrecked, yet you didn't want them to stop.
Your head fell back against Jay's shoulder, your throat exposed, your lips trembling as the sounds poured out of you unrestrained. His gaze locked onto you, never wavering, watching every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes, every blissful break in your voice.
His stomach coiled tight when he saw you smile through your moans, blissful grin that said you were floating in a haze beyond reason.
And then—when you let out a delirious laugh, drunk on cock and pleasure—both he and Heeseung nearly lost control.
"Shit... fuck, look at her," Heeseung moaned against your chest, thrusts erratic as your pussy clenched harder, milking him. His thumb found your clit again, circling with ruthless precision, making your hips twitch violently in their hold.
"Fucking cockdrunk," Jake muttered from the side, his voice strained, his hand already wrapped tight around his cock as he stroked himself, eyes devouring the sight of you stuffed full between Jay and Heeseung.
"Unbelievable..." Sunghoon hissed, though his body betrayed his words as his cock hardened again at the sight. His chest rose sharply, his jaw tightening as his eyes burned into you, unable to look away.
And you—you were flying. Your entire body trembled, sweat dripping down your back, every nerve set alight as two cocks pounded into you in perfect rhythm, stretching you in ways you never thought you could handle. You weren't just moaning anymore—you were laughing, delirious, euphoric, because nothing had ever felt this good. The world outside didn't exist. There was only this. Only them. Only the way your body sang under their hands, under their cocks.
You were living your best fucking life, and in that moment, you knew you never wanted it to end.
"Shit—I'm gonna cum," Heeseung groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his thrusts grew uneven. You couldn't help yourself, couldn't stop your body from pushing back onto his cock, greedy for every last inch.
"Need it—please, I need you to cum inside me—don't hold back," you moaned.
Jay tightened his bicep around your throat, dragging you flush against him as his lips pressed against your temple. "Take it, angel. Take all of him."
The heat in your chest exploded when Heeseung moaned loud and emptied inside you. The sound of his voice made your heart lurch even as your own orgasm tore through you again. Your walls clenched so violently that his cock twitched helplessly, spilling thicker and thicker ropes of cum until you could feel the weight of it stretching your stomach. The mess spilled from the corners of your folds, warm streams dripping down your thighs.
But before the haze could settle, Jay's voice cut through. "Pull out, Heeseung. It's my turn—I want to cum in her too." His arm around your throat tightened, pulling you higher onto him, your back arching as his cock slid free from your ass, still painfully hard.
Heeseung hesitated, his chest heaving, his eyes narrowing like he didn't want to let go of the heat he'd buried himself in. He gave a sharp exhale of frustration but finally withdrew, his cock wet and shining as he let you slip from him.
Jay didn't waste a second. He yanked off the condom, tossing it carelessly aside, then pushed his length inside your pussy still dripping with Heeseung's load. The stretch burned, but the mix of fluids made him slide in effortlessly, and the sensation had your toes curling instantly.
"Fuck—fuck, she's so wet," Jay groaned, his forehead pressing against the side of your head. His pace was punishing, his hips snapping against your ass as his hand gripped your hip to anchor himself.
"Can't hold it—gonna fill you—"
The moment he buried himself deep, his body stiffened, and he spilled hot inside you. His growl vibrated against your ear, the sound of his release mixing with your own helpless moans. You could feel it, the pulse of his cock as he filled you so completely that the mix of him and Heeseung spilled back out, dripping into a sticky mess beneath you.
It took a long moment before they both released you, your body sagging limp between them. You barely had the strength to move when Jake stepped forward, his hand already pumping his length with urgency, his eyes locked on your face. Sunghoon moved with him, their cocks standing tall, both of them crowding your view as you were laid down on your back.
"Open up, baby," Jake ordered.
Your lips parted, tongue falling out on instinct, the salty taste of precum already smearing across it as they fisted themselves harder. Their groans overlapped as thick spurts painted your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, dripping down your neck and into your hair. You swallowed what you could, eyes rolling back at the sheer dirtiness of it, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.
You stared blankly at the ceiling, vision hazy, ears ringing so loud it felt like you were underwater. Your head was spinning, the room tilting, but your body was already being turned again.
Your limbs flopped uselessly as Jake forced his cock back to hardness, guiding himself to your ass, while Heeseung gripped your legs wide, holding you open as though your exhaustion didn't matter.
One by one, they took their turns again, each of them sliding into your abused body, spilling more inside until it felt like there wasn't any part of you left untouched. Your mind was gone, floating somewhere else, your mouth hanging open without sound, and still, they didn't stop.
The last thing you remembered was Sunghoon's icy hands spreading your folds, his voice low with awe as he stared at the mess dripping from your swollen used pussy—thick white streams still spurting.
And then you passed out, swallowed by the overwhelming haze of pleasure and exhaustion, your body twitching even in unconsciousness, your mind lost in the aftershocks of everything they had done.
You woke with a body that felt heavier than stone, every inch aching. The room was quiet except for the soft snores surrounding you.
You shivered, realizing the air was cold against your damp hair and clammy skin, only to notice the weight of arms draped over you—two different hands anchoring you in place. One was around your waist, pulling you back into a solid chest, the other rested lazily on your hip.
You blinked hard, trying to gather yourself, and only then did you notice you were clothed, though barely. Someone had slipped a shirt over you, but it was hiked up high, baring most of your thighs. Heart pounding, you tilted your head, your breath catching when you saw Jay's face so close to yours. His features were peaceful, his brows relaxed, lips parted just slightly as a soft groan escaped him. Even in sleep, he pulled you tighter into his chest.
"What the fuck..." you whispered under your breath, pulse racing as heat rushed to your cheeks.
Your gaze dropped lower and froze. Sunghoon's head rested against your chest, lips slack and still attached to your nipple. His hand was curled around your waist too, fingers twitching. The memory of his face twisted in pleasure, his voice breaking with moans, hit you so hard that your thighs clenched instinctively.
You stifled a sound, your whole face burning.
Carefully, with your fingers trembling, you began to pry their hands off one by one, moving Jay's arm and slipping Sunghoon's hand back over his own body. It felt like sneaking out of something you weren't supposed to survive. But before you could breathe in relief, your eyes darted downward—and you almost screamed.
At the foot of the bed, sprawled across like he owned the space, was Jake. His cheek was pressed into the mattress, lips parted as he breathed heavily, his bare chest rising and falling. He looked so soft like this, so far from the rough, taunting voice that had wrecked you just hours ago.
Your stomach flipped.
"What the hell..." you whispered again, a little louder this time, biting your lip as panic swirled in your chest. You couldn't stay here. Not with the memories flashing in your head.
Ignoring the deep ache in your thighs and the heaviness weighing down your limbs, you tiptoed around them, snatching your heels and dress from the table. The sound of the zipper sliding into place echoed too loudly in your ears as you tried to dress as quietly as possible.
When you finally slipped out and pulled the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, exhaling sharply. Relief barely lasted a second before you froze again.
Someone was sitting in the living room.
Heeseung was perched on the couch, phone in hand, his tall frame hunched slightly forward. The glow of the screen lit his sharp features, but the second the door clicked shut, his head snapped up. His eyes widened as if he hadn't expected you to actually walk out. In a blur, he was standing, pocketing his phone.
"Hey," his voice came out softer than you remembered.
Your whole body stiffened, eyes wide, your pulse hammering in your throat. The room was quiet but the weight of his presence filled it, and you could feel your heart fluttering in panic—or maybe dangerously close to longing.
"It's just five-thirty," he said, glancing briefly at the window where the faintest gray of dawn was creeping in. "We finished at four. Are you... already leaving?"
Your throat was dry. Fuck. He was talking to you. Just standing there, bare-faced and raw from the night before, his voice carrying none of the arrogance it once did. You wanted to respond, but your mouth betrayed you, stuck in silence. You could only stare at him, your gaze trembling before you forced it away, too shy, too ashamed, too overwhelmed.
Heeseung shifted his weight, his Adam's apple bobbing as though he was working up the nerve. Then, in a tone that was almost uncertain, he asked, "Were we too rough?"
You blinked up at him, startled.
"I..." you started, but the words stuck.
His jaw tightened, eyes flickering before he let out a low sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that didn't fit the man who had held you down hours earlier. His voice dropped lower, rough with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slap you like that. I just... I got carried away."
The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes searched yours like he needed you to believe him, made your chest ache. You didn't trust yourself to speak, your throat felt raw, so you simply nodded, awkward and small, hoping it was enough.
"I—I... uh... shit." Heeseung's voice faltered.
He was fumbling, caught off guard by the weight of his own thoughts. For the first time, he seemed unsure.
Heeseung had always respected the girls they brought into this kind of mess, but responsibility was something he usually left to Jay, who carried gentleness. Yet with you, the urge was different. It was tugging at him in a way he couldn't ignore, and it unsettled him more than he'd ever admit.
His tongue darted over his lips, his brows knitting together as he shifted closer, still cautious of your fragile state. "Do you... want to leave? I—uh—I can get my car, or call someone, or—wait." He cut himself off, unsure what offer would make sense, what you even needed from him right now.
You shook your head quickly, your hands clinging to your heels. Your voice came out almost too small to hear, but you forced the words past your lips. "T-thank you. I-I can manage myself. Th-thank you... so much."
It was rushed, shaky, like you needed to get it out before your voice betrayed the truth of how fragile you felt. Without waiting for his response, you turned away, your bare feet carrying you in tiny, stumbling steps toward the door. Each step hurt, your body reminding you of everything from last night, but you pressed forward anyway, desperate to escape the heaviness in the room.
"Wait—what's your—" Heeseung started, his hand twitching forward as if he could reach you. But the words fell flat, caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before finishing. His lips pressed together in frustration, a quiet curse slipping under his breath. His eyes followed the curve of your back, the fragile sway of your shoulders, the sound of your unsteady footsteps echoing.
"...number."
The word left him softer than a whisper, too late, almost swallowed by the empty space you left behind.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door you'd just disappeared through, torn between running after you and letting you go. His jaw clenched, his hand raking through his hair as he sank back down onto the couch.
He couldn't shake the image of you—the way your eyes had rolled back in bliss, the way you had laughed in the middle of it all, the way you looked at him now as if you wanted to disappear.
And Heeseung felt a kind of defeat that left his chest heavy. First, he was pissed that Jay, of all people, had managed to pull your attention more than once that night. Second, he hadn't even gotten the chance to really enjoy you the way he wanted, not fully, not the way that would have been enough. And third—worst of all—he didn't even know your full name, or what department you were in, or anything beyond that single night where you'd let yourself unravel in his arms and under his hands.
"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face, frustrated at the gnawing ache in his chest. You were too pretty, too delicate, too intoxicating, and it infuriated him that Sunghoon and Jake had gotten their way with you first, splitting you open before he ever had the chance to claim you for himself. The thought of them having your "first" and sharing you so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted you whole, wanted you alone, wanted more than the scraps of a night shared with three others.
Heeseung realized this wasn't just another nameless, faceless memory to throw away. He didn't want this to be the last time. He wanted more of you—your laugh, your trembling voice, your warmth pressed against him. The only thing he had left was the trace of your scent, still lingering faintly on his skin and in the air, that floral sweetness that he couldn't shake no matter how many showers he took. It drove him mad.
"Hey, I tried your perfume and it doesn't smell nearly as nice on me as it does on you."
Your classmate pouted, watching you rub lotion into your arms after swim class. Her tone was playful, but her eyes lingered longer than usual, narrowing slightly at the fading bruises that scattered along your thighs.
"—Wait, are you okay? What's with all these marks?" she asked, her voice shifting, curious but edged with concern as her gaze dropped to your legs, then caught on your wrist where faint discoloration still traced your skin.
You forced a small smile, your hands moving carefully as though the weight of her stare could dig deeper into your body. "Anemia," you said lightly. "You know how it gets sometimes."
She frowned, unconvinced, but didn't press further. You focused on squeezing another bit of lotion into your palm, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. The bottle was nearly empty, and you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should buy another or try something different.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks since your body had been pushed to its limit, since you had let yourself fall apart in the arms, mouths, and cocks of four men who you never should have gotten tangled with.
As much as it thrilled you to remember, you knew it wasn't something you could ever share. Not with your classmates, not with anyone. This was yours alone.
And so, you smiled at your friend, pretending everything was normal, while inside, you cherished the memory of a night you swore you'd never tell.
You tied your damp hair back, the strands clinging to your neck as you tugged on a sweatshirt and shorts. A light mist of perfume lingered as you sprayed your wrists, your throat, the curve of your shoulder, even down your spine as though you could drown yourself in that sweet comfort.
"God, you smell so good again," your friend whined, fanning herself dramatically. You only chuckled and brushed her off, slipping your bag onto your shoulder before following the group.
The conversation turned quickly, as it always seemed to these days.
"How come those fuckboys keep throwing parties and we never hear a word after? It's like magic," one girl scoffed, and the others broke into agreement, voices overlapping with laughter.
"Right? I swear they must be fucking someone every time," another chimed in, clapping her hands for emphasis. "No way they're just drinking. But no one ever talks. Like—ever."
Their voices carried ahead of you while you trailed behind, smiling faintly, shaking your head as if their words were just another baseless rumor. Inside, though, your chest tightened. If only they knew. If only they could imagine half of what had happened that night. But you weren't about to let them. You had no intention of ever telling a single soul.
That night was a secret carved into you, and the four of them had reputations built on silence—no communication, no strings, no trace.
You sighed, crouching down to fix your shoelace, the chatter of your classmates fading as they moved further down the hall. One of them called your name over their shoulder, urging you to hurry, but before you could respond, the sound of measured steps came closer. A shadow cut across the floor in front of you.
You froze.
Slowly, your gaze lifted from the shoes planted right in front of you. And your heart stopped.
"Found you," a low voice drawled, threaded with satisfaction, almost a taunt.
Gasps erupted behind you, your classmates halting in their tracks.
Your eyes widened. Heeseung was really there, standing over you in broad daylight, surrounded by people, breaking his own rules without hesitation. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you. The tall, untouchable Heeseung—the one who ignored every girl who chased after him, who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with messy attention—was kneeling, his long fingers brushing over your loose shoelace.
"I had a hard time finding you," he muttered, not loud enough for anyone but you to hear. His tone was casual, but his jaw was tight, his movements sharp with frustration as he tied the knot in one clean motion. "It really pissed me off, you know?"
Your throat went dry. Heat crawled up your neck, spreading across your face until you felt the tips of your ears burn.
Why? Why was he here? Why was he talking to you? This wasn't the Heeseung everyone else knew. He never lowered himself like this—not in front of everyone, not where people could see. He shut girls down without a glance, his cold indifference the very thing that made them chase harder. Yet here he was, focused on you with an intensity that made your stomach twist.
Around you, your classmates whispered furiously, unable to hide their shock. Some covered their mouths, others exchanged wide-eyed looks, but no one dared step closer.
"Can we talk?" His voice was steady, but softer than you expected, almost coaxing.
When you finally dared to look at him, his eyes caught yours. They weren't the eyes of the cold, untouchable Heeseung everyone claimed to know. No, they were gentle, wide, almost disarming, like he was looking through you and not just at you. He smiled—small, sweet, almost shy—and your lips trembled against the sudden wave of nerves.
"H-Huh?" Your voice cracked embarrassingly.
Before you could gather yourself, he reached forward and plucked your bag from your shoulder. His hand found yours in the same motion, his long fingers curling around your palm. The contact made your knees weaken, a sharp rush of heat flooding your chest.
Heeseung was holding your hand. Heeseung, who never even let girls close enough to breathe the same air without brushing them off, was lacing his fingers with yours in front of everyone!
"Let's get out of here first, hmm?" His tone carried a teasing lilt, but his grip on your hand was firm.
You could hardly process as he tugged you gently in the opposite direction, away from your frozen classmates whose whispers grew louder. Each step with him felt surreal, like walking straight into a dream you weren't ready for but couldn't pull away from.
Then, as if to seal the knot of heaviness swirling in your chest, his head tilted close, his breath warm against your ear.
summary: Jay being silly and affectionate because he can’t seem to realize how drunk he is.
warnings: slightly suggestive themes.
genre: fluff!
a/n: had to write this cute little thing after those pictures dropped. seriously need to lay off writing smut for a while.
…
Wet lips that peppered sloppy kisses alongside your neck, giggles tickling the soft skin.
Your shared bedroom had fallen silent, with only sounds of Jay’s lips pressing down on skin he so deeply wanted to devour right now.
“Mm, my baby is so pretty,” he slurred sounding half-awake.
It had been 10 minutes with you trying to get Jay to go to bed. It always ended up with him springing back up and unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt. He’d slid off straps of your night gown, lips desperately searching for skin to leave his mark on.
“Baby, I wanna make love,” his lips would ghost over yours. A smile teasing as it grew against your lips. His fingers would work the ribbons coming undone on your back.
“Jay,” you’d say, pulling him away from you. “Baby, stop,” gasps would leave you at how much more intense he’d get when intoxicated.
“I just…feel so hot,” a sigh left him. “You keep making me put my clothes back on,” he frowned.
“You’re drunk,” you smiled, hands skimming over his shoulders, gently caressing his face.
“No,” a silly chuckle left his throat. “I’m Jay.” With knitted brows, his fingers were pointing to himself, making it seem like he himself wasn’t convinced.
“Wait…where’s my girlfriend?”
“I’m right here, baby.”
“No, no, no. You’re…” he gasped, his eyes droopy from all that consumed liquor.
“You seduced me, didn’t you?” He started panicking, rolling off the bed. “Baby,” He yelled into his phone. “I promise I’d never cheat on you,” he wept.
“You’re such a baby,” you sat there watching your boyfriend lose his mind over how he thought you were some other girl.
“Do you know how hot my girlfriend is?” He was lying back on the bed now. His words, unintelligible, slid off his tongue.
“Hmm? How hot?” You asked, failing to contain the laugh that slipped past your lips.
“She’s just…oh,” he put a hand over his heart, a drunken smile embracing his beautifully sculpted face. “She is so hot…there’s no way I’d ever have eyes for anyone else.”
“I bet,” you agreed with him, feeling giddy at how he talked about you. “What do you like about her?”
“Like?” He cackled. “I don’t know what you’re on about. I’m in love,” he confessed. That smile never wiping off his face.
You wanted to reach over and wrap him closely in between your arms. “You are so darn cute,” you whispered.
“She’s so much more than just my girlfriend.” He sat up again, a sleeve now sliding off his arm, making you giggle at how messy he was.
“Oh?”
“I can’t wait to marry her. Give her my last name,” he was starting to doze off amidst all his rambling. “Mrs. Park,” he flushed at the thought.
It left your heart feeling so full of him. Not knowing what you’d do with the amount of love that had sprouted deep within every each bone of your body by just the mere thought of him.
Boyfriend!Seungmin x Afab!Reader x Best Friend!I.N
♡ Genre - Explicit Sexual Content [MDNI] - Non-idol
♡ Word Count - 1.9k
♡ Summary - No matter where you are or who’s around you are his. His and only his.
♡ Warnings - Dom!Vocal Racha & Sub!Reader, light BDSM themes, Creampie, Orgasm denial and control?
♡ A/N - I rarely write for I.N and I wanna change that. I have some other works about him but I never finish them (I have so much that I've never finished) anyway, I thought I'd give it a shot with a little Vocal Racha smut! Hope you enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ MDNI
✧ Masterlist ✧
Banner Credit to @rookthornesartistry
You asked for this. You begged for it actually, you got on your hands and knees and blinked up at Seungmin with pretty brown eyes and blushed cheeks for this. And he said yes.
“Shaking already?” Your boyfriend circles you as you sit on display. There’s a spreader bar between your legs and a magic wand vibrator tied to your inner thigh in intricate shibari detail. The head of the vibrator rests against your clit, it’s set at a tantalizingly high setting that effortlessly milks moans from you. “Why haven’t you cum yet?”
He leans into your face and you pry your eyes open to meet his teasing smirk. There’s a sparkle of enjoyment in his eyes that sends a shock down your spine. “Trying.” You whimper.
“Not hard enough.” He clicks his tongue, standing straight and turning his attention to the magic wand. He jostles it a bit, rubbing it against your swollen bud and making a heavy tear fall from the corner of each eye. “Ya better hurry, I didn’t charge this thing.”
You whine, a new wave of desperation sweeps over at you with the anxiety of the vibrator dying hanging over your head. “Cock, please fill me, please.”
“Who are you asking, baby?” Seungmin coos, you can hear the smile in his voice. “Me or him?”
You turn your head to the other side of the bed and your gaze meets Jeongin’s instantly. He’s made himself comfortable. His jeans and boxers are pushed down just enough to free his dick. The length is throbbing in his hand that lazily strokes his shaft.
“Him.” You use your sweet tone. The one that you use on Seungmin to get you out of situations that you know won’t work in your favor. Your boyfriend has become immune to the tone but his best friend isn’t.
“You want me?” Jeongin cocks an eyebrow as he stands, letting his heavy length hang free as he makes his way to you. “You want me to dick you down?” You’re shaking your head fast and hard, just how you want him.
“Did you earn it?” He’s in your face, his fox eyes stare into yours and your heart skips a beat.
“I’ve been good.” Jeongin and Seungmin both tsk, they share a glance before Jeongin brings his long fingers to your pubic mound. “Please, Innie.” You use your sweet tone again.
“You haven’t cum for us yet.” Jeongin trails his hand over to the shaking head of the vibrator and presses it down against your clit. You scream, trying your best to close your legs against the bar holding you open but it’s no use.
“Can't, c-can’t. Oh fuck fuck.” Your orgasm rushes up your legs before you can even blink. It sends chills up your spine and makes your cunt clench in dripping need. It’s gonna hit you, you’re gonna cum. It’s coming, coming, gone.
“Ah, looks like it died, princess.” You cry into the hot air. Tears stream down your cheeks as your throbbing clit nearly burns with the desperate need that’s built up behind the nerves.
“I warned you.” Seungmin laughs as he undoes the knots of string keeping the vibrator attached to you. He strokes the inside of your thigh softly as he watches you, checking to make sure that you’re still okay. “I’ll be nice today.”
Seungmin’s fingertips brush up and down your leg as he scans you. His eyes gloss over your heaving chest and the sweat beading at the curls of your hairline. “I’ll let it slide since you’ve been so good, but if you don’t cum on his cock you won’t be cumming on mine.”
You nod your head as Jeongin wipes away the stray tears trailing down the side of your face. “Thank you, sir. I’ll cum on his cock I promise.” Your boyfriend smiles down at you before looking over at his best friend.
“Tell him that.” Seungmin orders and you waste no time following.
“I’m gonna cum on your cock, Innie.” You look over to the copper haired man leaning over you with one hand resting gently on the side of your face and the other lazily stroking his cock.
“Yeah? Let’s see.” His fingers wrap around the bar between your legs and he pulls you over to him to position you correctly. Your ass is at the edge of the bed, the bar is in one of his hands while he lines himself up at the hole of your cunt with the other. “Look at your boyfriend for me.”
Seungmin’s finger is tilting your chin up and to the side before you can even comply. He has his dick out now. It’s heavy in his hand and you watch for a second while his fingers polish over the blushed head. “Look me in the eye, pup.”
You obey, shifting your gaze quickly and blinking up at him with that fucked out glaze that he loves.
Jeongin is pushing into you before you can even take a deep breath to prepare for him. He splits you open so deliciously. His cock sinks in with a lewd squelch that earns a groan from Seungmin, It was either that or the way that your eyes crossed and fluttered shut once Jeongin bottomed out.
This is what you wanted. This is what you begged for.
“She’s fucking tight.” Jeongin nearly whines as you clench around him. “Fuck, this cunt is gonna make me nut fast.”
“I told you.” Jeongin pulls his hips back, thrusting into you slowly a couple of times to get used to the way that he fits inside of you. “She’s got a perfect little pussy. Gotta fight not to finish quickly with her.”
You grip the comforter beneath you as Jeongin sets into a steady pace. He’s a tad thicker than Seungmin so the drag of him along your walls sets a new fire up your spine and against the arched soles of your feet. You’re moaning, whining, crying. Any and everything that you can think of to show them how you feel, to show them how good this feels.
You force your eyes open to watch as Seungmin leans back on his elbow and fist his dick at the sight of his best friend fucking you. His brows are knit together and his mouth is just slightly agape as he bites the tip of his tongue.
“C’mon, gotta cum before I do, baby.” You turn your attention to Jeongin as he growls above you, he presses the spreader bar back more towards the mattress, opening you up further for him to abuse new parts of your cunt. He sinks deeper, thrusting faster into that sweet soft spot that makes you see stars.
“Innie, fuck fuck, too deep. So deep so so - shit, Jeon- fuck.” Words dissolve on your tongue as he sets into a brutal pace. His balls smack against your ass and sweat drips down the valley of your breasts as he pants above you. He’s watching you with a keen gaze, studying and savoring you.
“You said - you said that you’d cum on my cock, baby.” He pounds into you, pushing himself to the hilt and swirling his hips against you. The tip of his dick kisses your cervix and you scream. You’re crying again, tears flow down your cheeks as the hot prick of your orgasm tumbles towards you.
As good as it feels, it’s all too much. Too intense, too good. You put your arms out in front of you and push against his toned torso. Your fingers splay over his strong stomach as you beg for him to slow down. He doesn’t. Not because he doesn’t want to but because you don’t want him to. You have a safe word and if you really wanted him to stop you’d use it just like Seungmin taught you to.
“Don’t be like that.” Jeongin grunts above you as he gathers both of your wrists with his free hand. He pins your hands above your head with what used to be his only free hand. “Take it, Seungminnie said you’d be a good girl.”
You look over at Seungmin mid moan. “Don’t embarrass him.” Your boyfriend stares back at you, angry red tip of his cock in his hands. Its swollen and ready to fucking burst. Just one more swipe over the tip and he’s cumming.
“Holy shit, pup. That’s it, that’s it. Fuck.” He blows his load all over his hand, it leaks down to his thighs and covers the expanse of his pubic mound. He watches his leaking tip with pinched brows as he huffs heavy breaths through flared nostrils. It’s hot, so fucking hot.
“Shit, baby I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking nut if you squeeze me like that.” You squirm under Jeongin’s tight grip. Your orgasm is right there. It’s right there, it’s coming. He feels so good, he fills you so perfectly but you just can’t. You just can’t fucking cum. “Oh fuck, baby, please cum.”
Jeongin is begging you and you’re starting to feel desperate. You blink up at him with fraught and hazy eyes. You can feel it. The pleasure is pricking behind your clit so deliciously but it just won’t spill over. It just won't -
Seungmin’s fingers wrapping around your throat snap you out of your desperate haze. His glazed eyes stare back at yours with a domineering gaze. You stare back at him and you feel yourself slipping into a trance. One that only your boyfriend can control.
“Four, three, two, one. Cum.” You’re screaming. Writhing underneath Jeongin so violently that he has to let your wrists go to hold your hips in place so that he doesn’t slip out of your cunt. Jeongin fucks you through your climax as his own washes over him.
“Fucking hell.” Seungmin’s groans and grunts mix in with Jeongin’s as the maknae fills you with ropes of his overflowing seed. It seeps out of you even with his cock plugging your clenching hole.
“Ah, fuck you’re so full.” Jeongin hisses as his orgasm subsides.
He pulls out once he starts getting soft, leaving a sticky trail of cum behind before plopping back against the empty side of the mattress. “Color?” Seungmin asks in between heavy panting
“Green.” You murmur, your head is still spinning and after shocks are still jolting through you as you try to catch your breath.
“Get that leg, Innie.” Seungmin unbuckles the ankle on his side from the spreader bar and Jeongin does the one on his side. Your legs slump against the mattress once they’re free. You keep just enough space between them to not overstimulate yourself.
“Did you cum again, hyung?” Innie asks as he holds your hand and soothes you through your floating headspace.
“I did, yeah.”
“Just from watching, noona cum?” Seungmin shakes his head, a small smile on his lips as he watches you. His sweet fucked out, baby. He doesn’t answer, instead he just hums as he grabs the aftercare kit.
He wants to say that Jeongin would cum untouched too if his girlfriend needed him in order to climax. If his pretty baby wouldn’t cum for any other man but him he’d find himself leaking at the mere thought of it.
They clean you up as you drift in and out of your sleepy haze, still fucked out and submissive. You do as Jeongin tells you while they clean you up. Lifting your arms and legs as he asks and Seungmin smiles as he watches because even through everything that just happened you proved something to him.
You proved that no matter who you invite into your bedroom. No matter where you are or who’s around, you are his. His and only his.
Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕
ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕
A/N: It’s my birthday so I didn’t proofread this!! I’m sorry!!
Once again, Fred had a date. He woke up that morning and remembered every bit of what he had said, and stood by his words. He told Y/N he still wanted to see the ring on the table when he got home. He wanted her to think about it for at least 24 full hours before she made a decision.
Y/N and Fred had narrowly missed each other that morning. He was off running errands for the day and she had only just woken up. He was home for lunch and she was out with Hermione. Y/N felt her heart sink, feeling guilty for wanting to see him. Why guilt, though? She didn’t feel like she had a valid reason to feel guilty. After she got home from lunch Fred had already left for his date, so she fell asleep on the couch in the living room, figuring it was a good way to pass the time until she saw her new best friend again.
“Why was this on the kitchen table?” George asked, waking Y/N up out of her sweet, dreamless sleep on the couch. He was holding the ring.
“I can’t sleep with jewelry on.” She shrugged, getting up and going to grab the ring. He held it up higher. She almost laughed until she saw the look on his face.
“I’m serious.” She sighed heavily at this.
“I know, George.”
“You know what?” The audacity that men have.
“I know you’re sleeping with her again.”
“W-what?” He almost dropped the ring.
“I just don’t get it, George.”
“I w-wouldn’t do that again.”
“Except you are.”
“Why are you accusing me right now?”
“Because I’m not dumb! Just because I trust you doesn’t mean I’m dumb! I’m not naive. The first time, sure. This time, no! It’s the same as last time, but you thought I’d stay with you just because you proposed this time! Maybe I won’t, did you think about that? What if you get her pregnant? Did you just expect me to stay around and raise the kid? Or what if we both get pregnant, who are you leaving alone with their child?”
“So immediately after we got back to where we were.”
“Yes.”
“Why? What did I do? Why am I not enough for you?”
“Maybe if you–”
“Actually, no, fuck you. I’m enough for me. I’m enough for so many people. I gave you a second chance and you fucking blew it! I’ve done so much for you, for Fred, too!”
“I–” He sighed. He was speechless. It was the first time you’d really fully stood up for yourself. It was on him, he knew that. “I think…I’m going to spend the night at the Burrow, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Go, spend the night with her, but don’t lie to me and say you’re staying with your mom.” She spoke bluntly, tears streaming out of her eyes quietly. It was a silent cry, the only way Y/N ever allowed herself to cry in front of people. He hesitated, but he turned around and left the living room. Y/N entered the kitchen, starting to grease pans for baking.
-
Fred came home that night, mostly confused. Y/N wasn’t in the living room tonight, which didn’t make him feel great. That wasn’t the worst of it though. The date was great. She was perfect, but…he hated it. Something was missing. As she listed off interests, favorite movies, her favorite quidditch team…all he could think was that something was missing. When he got home, and Y/N was missing, it dawned on him. It was her. She was missing. The girl had listed off all of Y/N’s favorite movies, her favorite songs. She liked to bake. Her favorite quidditch team was the Holyhead Harpies, the team his little sister played on. Suddenly, Fred felt rather sick. He can’t have feelings for his brother’s girlfriend–no, fiance!
With a pit in his stomach, he walked into the kitchen, where he opened his eyes wide. The entire kitchen table and window sill were covered in baked goods. There was one clean counter, where Y/N sat staring off into space, waiting for her next round of cookies to finish.
“Oh! I forgot! I’m sorry, how was the date?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing–”
“Don’t, please don’t close yourself off. We’re close now, just let me in. What happened, what’s with the baked goods?” He asked, leaning with his arms crossed and his back against the island counter across from where she sat. He noticed the ring was missing, it wasn’t on Y/N’s finger, it wasn’t on the counter or the table where he’d seen it last.
“He admitted it. He’s cheating on me with her again.” She sighed, looking to the ceiling and holding back tears. “And it sucks so hard to know he wasted all this time of mine again. He proposed to me. I know he’s your brother, but that’s just so…crazy. Who does that?” She paused, and just as Fred was about to talk she kept going. “And the worst part is that I don’t…I don’t feel anything. The first time he cheated with Angelina it was like my whole world came crashing down. He was my best friend, my boyfriend, and my roommate. Now, it barely even feels like we’re roommates. I thought I could love him the same way after it all, and maybe he cheated because I couldn’t.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Cheating is always a decision. If he realized you didn’t love him the same way he should have communicated with you. Broken up. Not proposed and delayed this.” Fred sighed. Y/N wouldn’t make eye contact with Fred, assumingly because she was upset.
“I–” She paused, chest tight. She looked up at Fred, making blatant eye contact. “What if I’ve been emotionally cheating?” Fred’s eyes widened and his heart sank. He felt awful, like his feelings for her would just have to go away again. Right as they were getting close.
“W-what? With who?”
“You fucking idiot.” She sighed, pushing herself off the counter. She went to walk away, but Fred put his arms on either side of her on the counter, pinning her where she was.
“Don’t walk away.” He whispered, so close to her face. Her heart pounded.
“I–” She sighed. “Fred, I’ve felt more for you in the past five days than I’ve felt for George in the past year and a half. I waited all day for you to be here, and I kept feeling guilty for it. I’ve felt so guilty, and then I find out he’s cheating and I’m so numb to it because you’re all I can think about.” She paused to breathe before she continued her quick ramblings. “Also, the idea of having feelings for you is so weird, because we only just started to like each other, but you’re standing so close to me and all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. I can’t stop thinking about all the girls you used to bring home and how I don’t want to be just one of those girls you sleep with. But obviously I can’t just be with you because I think I just broke off my engagement with your brother and also because you haven’t said anything–” So Fred, in his overwhelmed state, pushed forward and pressed his lips against hers. She grabbed both sides of his face as he grabbed her hips. After a few moments, he quickly pulled apart, moving one of his hands to keep her hand on his face in place
“I couldn’t tell you the other night, but I had feelings for you that summer before the war, but you were with George. I couldn’t…I couldn’t just confess then, and besides you were so happy with him. Then we didn’t like each other, and the night before you got engaged I couldn’t stop thinking about you all over again. And…George made us spend all that time together and you’re the only thing I think about. The girl I went on the date with was so perfect, but I couldn’t get you off my mind and I realized she was just like you. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t you, no one will ever be you.” Fred spoke in a hushed tone with his eyes closed, as if speaking any louder or seeing her would make Y/N evaporate into thin air. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see her with tear tracks down her face.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything that nice to me before.” She whispered, taking the hand that wasn’t trapped by his and wiping her face. He giggled, letting go of her hand and using both of his hands to hold the sides of her face. He leaned forward and kissed the tear stains on Y/N’s face. “You’re like this perfect man, it’s so wildly different from George.” She mumbled.
“I can’t account for where he went wrong, and I haven’t always been great. But if you give me the chance, I will love you better than anyone else could dream of.” With tears streaming down her eyes she pulled him in to kiss her again, he smiled against her lips. He held the small of her waist as she rested one of her hands on his chest, the other sat at the back of his neck playing with his hair. He moaned when she pulled it gently, causing her to smile into their kiss. She almost missed being able to see him rolling his eyes at her smirk.
“Love me, please. Tonight, tomorrow, every day. Just–love me tonight.” She whispered against his lips as they panted for air.
He leaned down, kissing her again as he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her back to a sitting position on the counter. Y/N threaded her fingers through Fred’s hair, one of Fred’s hands was on her thigh, the other rested on her waist. Finally, she bit his bottom lip in an attempt to get him to do anything. In response, he gave a noise that sounded between a groan and a growl, moving to her neck to leave bite marks. He licked the shell of her ear and bit the lobe as he moved down to the length of her neck, sucking hard. She moaned softly, whimpering when he used he grazed his teeth over her neck.
She started grinding her hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him to aid in her plight for friction. After he felt satisfied with the bruises he’d left on her neck he went back to her lips, sucking on her bottom lip briefly before licking it in a silent asking of permission to use it. She gracefully licked his tongue, granting his own tongue admission to her mouth. Their tongues wrestled messily, Y/N playing with Fred’s hair and occasionally pulling softly to hear him moan. She was starting to feel frustrated with just grinding, so she moved the hand that was on the side of Fred’s face to gracefully feel all the way down his body before she started palming him through his slacks. He gave a harsh groan this time, pulling apart from her mouth briefly.
“You’re so beautiful, so sexy.” His voice was deep with pleasure and she moaned at the sound alone. Her heart swelled, she hadn’t been praised like that sexually…ever. Fred took one of his hands off of her hips to thread into her hair, pulling gently to hear her moan. He swore to himself that he could hear that every minute of every day and never get tired of it. While Fred knew he was going to fuck her, his intentions were pure– he wanted to make love to her. Y/N, however, was getting frustrated with his politeness. She started to unbutton his slacks and he broke off their kiss again. “Hold on, I want to take care of you.” He whispered, flush against her lips.
“I appreciate that, but I want you inside of me.” She whispered, her hand that had been unbuttoning his pants was now tangled in his shirt. Fred felt his heart drop to his cock when she said this, groaning at her lack of restraint. Y/N started unbuttoning his shirt as he separated her thighs and pulled her completely to the edge of the counter.
“You’ll just have to be patient, princess.” He grinned as he went to crouch, kissing her knee on the way down. He left kisses all over the inside of her thighs, leaving her soaked to the core before he had even really touched her. Both Fred and Y/N were thankful she was wearing a dress that day, making his access considerably easier as he rubbed her through only her thin panties. Kissing the inside of her thigh as he looked up into her eyes, he felt like the luckiest man alive. He almost grinned when he saw she was adorning another pair of fruit covered panties.
“You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said the cherry panties were sexy,” He smirked up at her, rubbing circles into her clit through peach covered cotton. “These are sexy too, but I think they’d look a lot better on the floor.” He grabbed the cotton on her hips and pulled them down, leaving them on the floor like he promised. Y/N’s thighs were shaking from all the teasing he had done already. He licked from her inner knee to where he promised to take care of her, latching his mouth onto her clit. She gasped at the feeling of his warm tongue, closing her eyes. He used his tongue to create figure-8’s against her clit, and slowly pushed one finger into her. At this, she threw her head back, resting the crown of her skull gently against the cabinet behind her. She laced her fingers through Fred’s hair, now pulling hard. He groaned in his own pleasure, creating vibrations against her clit which in turn made her moan. He pushed a second finger into her, slowly pumping them as he worked her clit. After adding a third finger, her legs were shaking violently, showing she was nearing the edge. He quickly swapped his fingers and tongue, using his thumb to rub circles against her clit and sticking his tongue as deep as he could inside of her warm pussy. He had his other arm wrapped around her thigh, one of her hands reaching to hold the hand there as she neared her end even faster than before.
“I want you to say my name when you cum, baby, can you do that for me?” He paused briefly, looking up at her, she nodded vigorously. His tongue returned to it’s warm reserve inside of her. The motions he made with his thumb against her clit became faster, and soon enough she was squeezing his hand and nearly screaming his name. Fred waited for her to stop squeezing his hand to stand up and kiss her on the lips again. “You did so good, baby.” He whispered against her lips.
“Freddy,” She whimpered against his lips. “You haven’t even fucked me yet and I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.” She almost laughed at the thought. He grinned, happy with his work so far. He tucked a strand of her behind her ear, kissing her ear as he spoke.
“You won’t need to, baby. I’ll fuck you right here,” He started licking and kissing her neck again, making her whine. “And I’ll take care of you so you don’t have to walk.” He whispered against her quickly bruising flesh. She whined again, reaching to finish her job unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his already unbuttoned pants. He let her continue as he wrapped his hand in her hair once and pulled back, exposing the front of her neck to him where he continued his attack. When she finished unbuttoning his shirt he helped her pull it off his shoulders, exposing his freckled and scarred skin on his chest to her. She rubbed her hands against his chest, feeling every individual scar and wondering where each of them came from. He watched her eyes dart around, a small closed-lip smile adorning her face as she felt the raised white scars. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek softly, loving his own view. Using the same hand that was petting her cheek, he lifted her face to look up at his. He pulled her face close to his own and kissed her softly.
“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered against her lips with his eyes closed. She smiled, reaching her face up to kiss his eyelids. Angel kisses on his blonde eyelashes. It was a sweet moment, to remind them both that not only was there no going back after what they were about to do, but also to remind them that this wasn’t just fucking. This was real, unadulterated love. He opened his eyes, looking deeply into hers as she pushed his slacks and boxers down as far as she could with her hands, using her bare feet the rest of the way. He lifted her dress over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him, inevitably landing on some type of baked good. She rested one hand against his jaw, pulling his face close to hers, her other hand pumping his cock and gently rubbing the tip. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath at the feeling of her small hand around him. He rested one hand on her jaw, mirroring her. His other hand rested on the small of her back to push her closer to him. They kissed gently, feeling like this moment was fragile and could be broken. Y/N moved the hand that was on his cock and squeezed his bicep, quietly communicating that she was ready. He moved his hand from the small of her back to line himself up with her entrance, and as he pushed in the both gasped quietly at the feeling. Fred rested his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder, eyes closed as he waited quietly and politely for her to adjust to his size. After a few moments she tapped him to tell him to move, her eyes squeezed tightly closed for preparation of any pain that would come from his movements. He moved slowly, truly taking this moment to get to know Y/N’s body. He felt every groove inside of her, every dip and small raise in her skin, memorising her inside and out. As they both started to get used to this puzzle-piece moment in which it felt like the clicking of soul-mates finally coming together, they started kissing again. Fred’s tongue entered her mouth, exploring, dead set on memorising her entire body. Her hands found themselves resting on his back, nails digging in every so often. If this had been her sex dream, she would’ve been wondering how many girls had dug their nails into his back, but in person all she could think about was him. He filled her every sense, she could smell him, feel him everywhere, taste him, his freckled skin stuck on her eyes even when they closed, and their shared moans overwhelmed her ears. If this was what making love was, she definitely had never shared that with George.
Fred lowered his hand, rubbing her clit gently as his pace got faster. He wasn’t sure if he had ever felt so good so quickly, he was almost positive he hadn’t ever felt his high come so quickly. As he pounded into Y/N’s g-spot and rubbed her clit, she found herself loudly moaning. Her nails were now leaving deep marks into Fred’s back, and Fred hadn’t even noticed.
“Fred,” She moaned his name loudly, the sound of which made his own high come even faster. Set on finding their highs together, they were flush together. Y/N nor Fred had never been so close to someone, their entire bodies touching. Her legs were wrapped around him, her torso flush against his and her face buried into his chest. His face was buried into her neck, leaving occasional kisses to avoid his own moans. Quickly, they found their highs together. After hitting her g-spot so many times, she warned him. He quietly thanked Godric, his own high coming as well. So as they came together, panting, completely embraced, they felt loved. They’d both felt fucked-out before, but this felt different. This felt simultaneously heavy and weightless on their hearts, and they stayed together for a long time. They kissed quietly, Fred not really wanting to leave her, and she not wanting him to leave her either. Before he pulled out she spoke.
Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader -> Fred Weasley x fem!reader
Warnings: sexual undertones, cursing, sexual tension ??
Word Count: 5.5 k (I got carried away lol!!)
Part 1
“Okay, so here. We’ve got like twenty new options every day. Here are the Daily Prophets from the past week, let’s find someone.” She had seven papers laid out in front of them on the coffee table as they sat on the couch together. She had already gone through and circled all of the ads for girls, and some attractive men in case he was keeping secrets.
“I like being single, I don’t see the issue.” Fred sighed, picking up one of the sheets. He appreciated the way Y/N seemed to color code the girls. He saw one man circled in the group with a question mark over it, causing his brows to furrow. What?
“It was George’s idea. Although, I don’t think I’d complain about you settling down. Maybe we’ll have fewer of our encounters.” She elbowed his side, giggling. “Here, what about her? She’s cute.” She pointed at a french girl who had recently moved to the area. She remembered how much all of the boys her age gawked at the Beauxbaton girls in her fourth year, the twins sixth year. He shrugged.
“Meh. She’s pretty, but look. Her interests are so boring.” Y/N read her interests, which included things such as dragon taming. Her eyes widened.
“You’re joking, right? She’s well travelled and she tames dragons. She’s infinitely more interesting than you’ll ever be.” He attempted to not smile as she glared in confusion. He can’t be serious, right?
“I mean, but look. She likes to read.” He pointed back at the paper, which had been highlighted for people who liked to read. Y/N had color coded all of the paper’s, including highlighting interests and hobbies people had that were similar to Fred’s.
“You like to read.” She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at the paper. She started to worry that she had gotten his interests and hobbies wrong. How could she have? She’s known him for just as long as she’d known George. She might not have liked Fred, but she knew him like the back of her hand.
“Yeah, but only one person in a relationship can be the reader.” Fred stifled his laughter, looking at Y/N with a grin, waiting for her to notice he was fucking with her. He was somewhat impressed by the amount of work she had put into this project George set up. George had made Fred take some time off from the shop to force him and Y/N to spend time together.
“What?” She whipped her head back over to look at him, where he continued grinning at her, waiting for her to realize. “Okay, so you are just fucking with me. Thank Godric, I was really worried for your sanity there for a second. I’ll set you two up.” This allowed him to finally burst into laughter. She rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. She called the girl, telling her all about Fred and setting up a date for him that night.
“You really think I wouldn’t like her?” He tsked. “She’s marriage material.” He said, reading the other personal ads with a big smirk on his face.
“Woah! What happened to enjoying your single life?” She taunted.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll bring her home tonight and shag her and never see her again.” He didn’t once look up when he said this.
“Frederick Gideon Weasley, you will not.” At this, he looked up, eyes wide.
“Woah, government names, alright. I won’t.” He furrowed his brow.
“The only way you’ll ever love someone is if you establish some sort of relationship with them before you have sex.” Y/N ranted, huffing. She found herself frustrated, thinking of old drama in her own life. You can’t just love someone you barely know.
“I just said I won’t.” Fred put the paper down, resting his chin in his hand while he watched Y/N pace around the room.
“I mean I’m a sucker for some of those tropes but-- wait what? You really won’t?” She quickly looked over at him, stunned. She really thought he would put up a fight. He always put up some sort of fight whenever she asked him to simply keep the sex quieter.
“Yeah, believe it or not I actually do know how to control myself.” He rolled his eyes again.
“Well, good. You just slept with so many girls to piss me off, then.”
“Exactly.”
“Wait, really?”
“Sometimes.”
“You asshole! My sleep schedule is forever fucked because of you!” Fred was nearly bent over from laughing, meanwhile Y/N had her face in her hands.
“Maybe sometimes I just wanted to see your face.” He said through leftover giggles. She rolled her eyes at this.
“Whatever, you hate me, remember?”
“Only occasionally. Whenever you’re telling me what to do,”
“Or sleeping,”
“Or reading,”
“Or minding my own damn business,”
“Or breathing,”
“HEY! Too far, you don’t like me but you don’t want me dead.” She finalized. She and him both knew that. They didn’t like each other, but they didn’t entirely hate each other. They had passing moments like the one they were having at this moment.
“I’m just teasing you, maybe that’s all it’s ever been.” He raised his brows at her, but she once again rolled her eyes.
“Don’t lie to me, I don’t particularly love you, either.” Fred gasped loudly at this comment.
“How could you?” He grabbed his chest where his heart would be and fell over off the couch onto the floor.
“How am I always seen as the drama queen in our...whatever you would call it. Mutual hateship?”
“Frenemies?”
“Too friendly.”
“Mutually-disliking relationship?”
“Eh. A little wordy, but good enough.” She shrugged. “The last girl you dated was like...Angelina Johnson at Hogwarts. Should I be looking for girls like her?”
“You mean gorgeous girls that play quidditch and are smarter than me? No, no, never that.” Fred inspected his nails in his sarcastic voice.
“Alright, noted.” She rolled her eyes, going through papers and circling more girls, color coating them.
“And what do you look for in men? Tall gingers?” He peaked over his newspaper, giggling softly.
“You mean the only man I’ve ever dated? Yes, I suppose.” She laughed too, not looking up from her paper. “Okay pick a few more and we’ll set you up on some dates.” Y/N said, pushing the paper back into his hand as she circled more girls in the paper. Later that night, she made herself dinner as he got ready. He had a bunch of questions, having only ever looked for something casual for a long time. She told him what girls like to hear, what they want to know about a guy before they go on a second date.
“How would you know? You’ve only ever dated one guy.” Fred half-joked.
“I’m still a girl.” She shrugged, knowing what she would want out of a first date. He walked further into the kitchen, leaning onto the counter next to the stove where she boiled herself mac and cheese. She glanced over, remembering the dream she had a few nights previous. She also noticed his crooked tie. “Your tie is crooked.” She looked back down at her mac and cheese as he tried to fix it.
“I haven’t worn one of these in like, eight years?” He asked, looking up for help. She rolled her eyes and straightened out the tie for him. Her stomach hurt, and she hoped she was just hungry. Fred’s stomach hurt, he blamed it on his belt being too tight. “How do I look?”
“Sufficient.” She gave a smirk as she shrugged, he punched her arm lightly. “You look great, you’ll do great. Considering how many girls you bring home each night, you can handle this.” She punched his shoulder lightly back. Now let’s hope he doesn’t fuck it up, she thought.
-
Except, of course, he did. The first date, Fred came back home with a different girl than he went on a date with. Y/N had been waiting in the living room for him to come home. She turned the light on next to her, making Fred jump about three feet in the air.
“Fucking-- what are you doing up?” Fred said with wide eyes, glancing between the girl he had brought home and Y/N.
“We had a deal!” She stood up from her spot on the couch, pointing a finger at him.
“I said I wouldn’t bring home the girl I was on a date with! I never said anything about a different girl.” He quipped with his hands raised in surrender.
“What date?” The blonde next to him glared at him with furrowed brows. Y/N admired her dress and legs. If she and Fred weren't supposed to be doing something, she’d approve.
“Oh, it was just a first date.” He brushed off.
“That you could’ve potentially married!” Y/N accused. It was her mission, after all.
“What?! I’m going home.” The blonde turned around, slamming the door behind her.
“You--you cockblock!” He turned on Y/N, glaring.
“And I’ll continue until we find someone for you to settle down with. Now what happened to the dragon tamer?”
“She thought I was a ‘silly, big, weird baby man,’” He said, using finger quotes around the name she called him. Y/N, trying to keep a straight face, responded with a noise, meaning “keep going.”
“And she outwardly told me this list of quidditch players and other famous wizards she had slept with. I don’t know, I felt compared.” Fred wrinkled his face.
“Oh, buddy,” She frowned, gesturing for him to sit down on the couch next to her. “We can’t all be professional quidditch players.” She pat his back, grinning ear to ear.
“I hate you,” He went to get up, trying to hide his own smile.
“No!” She pulled him by the arm of his suit jacket, having him sit on the couch next to her again. “Let’s just make sure it doesn’t happen again. What didn’t you like about her?” Y/N seemed to conjure a notepad out of nowhere and stared at him, waiting to take notes.
“Godric, you’re such a fucking nerd about this.” He rolled his eyes, she elbowed him in the ribs. “Okay, well I didn’t like being compared to way cooler, better guys than me.” At this, she wrote down ‘lower standards.’ “Also, she travelled a lot. I’m all for travelling, but I do have the shop, so I can’t be doing long distance with anyone.” He shrugged. She nodded, adding it to the list. “Also, she wasn’t from here. Like, that’s not awful, but we just fought a war. I’d appreciate someone who’s a little sympathetic about that.” Y/N nodded, understanding that wholly. It would take more than both hands to count how many times people had been rather intrusive or rude about her moments of PTSD.
“Okay, I’ll fix our list and call the next best girl.” She nodded, walking off into the kitchen while looking at her newspaper. Fred got up and followed her. She was already sitting at the table with two teas and a plate of cookies, eyes narrowed at the papers in front of her. If he didn’t know any better it would look like he had just walked in on an auror looking into an investigation.
“Alright Auror Potter, whaddya got for us?” He put his hands on his knees, squatting slightly to look at the small girl sitting in a chair as though she were a child.
“If you talk to me like I’m a kid, nothing.” She looked up, glaring at him. He giggled, pulling out the chair across from her and drinking the tea.
“Where’s George?” He asked, taking a sip from his dainty, floral mug.
“He got home and crashed like fifteen minutes before you got home.” Y/N wouldn’t look up from her newspaper.
“Seriously? It’s like midnight.” Fred actually checked his watch to make sure he was correct. In actuality, it was 12:06.
“He says he had a lot of stuff to do at the shop.” She shrugged. Her heart hurt. It felt familiar. Fred’s chest tightened, not wanting to push the subject. “Anyway, how are the cookies?”
“Why? Are they the same ones you make that come from the grocery store?” She gasped, looking around as if he had just let everyone in on her big secret.
“How’d you know?!” She asked, suspicious that he had spent too much time in the muggle world.
“I’ve been inside the fridge before.” He laughed, eyebrows furrowed. “Also, believe it or not, I am literate.” He grabbed one of the papers, crossing girls off he had circled previously. He was feeling pickier after his date.
“Well, no, these ones are homemade. For real this time. Try one.” She pushed the cookies towards him, grabbing one for herself. She was quite happy with herself, the cookies had turned out great. They were strawberry meringue, with bits of actual strawberry and mini chocolate chips in them. Their cookies crunched when they took a bite at the same time, tiny pieces of pink meringue scattering across the table top.
“This is delicious.” Said Fred, spraying more pieces of strawberry meringue over the counter top as he hadn’t swallowed before he spoke.
“I know.” Y/N giggled, having swallowed the piece she took a bite of. Fred ate almost the rest of the plate, leaving only one cookie for George. They continued talking about cookies, girls, and Fred’s newfound celibacy.
-
The next night, Fred came home with no girls. However, he wasn’t smiling, either. This time, when Y/N flicked on the light, and Fred jumped, she knew he was just unhappy. Not sad, not angry. Just unhappy.
“Motherfucker-- do you have to keep doing that?”
“What happened to the Wizengamot girl?” Y/N asked, frowning. She thought this might’ve been a good match. The girl was a bit serious on the phone, but she thought maybe it would compliment Fred well.
“She was kind of boring. A little stuck up, too. She didn’t like the place we went to and sent her food back. Y/N do you know what she ordered?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, as if to ask ‘what?’ “Tomato soup! Who sends back tomato soup? Who even orders just tomato soup?” He asked, pacing in front of the couch, as if he was genuinely torn up about this. “And all she wanted to do was talk about the war. I don’t want to talk about that! I was in it, I’ve heard enough about it.” He sighed, plopping down in the arm chair across from Y/N.
“Do you want some cookies and tea?” She asked sheepishly. He nodded, they both stood up and went to the kitchen. She already had the tea and cookies ready once again. Fred appreciated that it was a different cookie this time, and that his tea was exactly how he liked it. Tonight’s cookie was a pumpkin snickerdoodle. “There’s some cream cheese frosting, I saw you at the window before I could frost them and I wanted to sneak up on you again.” She admitted, not looking up from her paper as she was too focused. Fred felt the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Why didn’t you just use a spell?”
“I like doing it the muggle way. It’s a good way to relieve stress.” She shrugged, crossing some girls out and circling other girls in the personal ads.
“Why are you stressed?” He asked mindlessly, drinking his tea. She tensed up, he noticed.
“I--uh. I don’t know. Who knows, right? I’m always stressed.” She joked, fake-laughing. He noticed again.
“You know, I hate to cross any boundaries we have here, but you can tell me. Even if it’s about him.” He used his head to gesture towards the ceiling, where George laid asleep. She sighed, shrugging. She stared at the ring on her left ring finger. “Do you think--”
“I don’t think I want to talk about it, yet.” Y/N said, twisting the ring around on her finger. Fred understood, needing time to think about it. “Anyway,” She quickly and casually wiped the corner of her right eye. “She was boring and stuck up? Anything else?”
“She reminded me of Percy.” He wrinkled his nose. Y/N giggled, making a note on her notepad to exclude girls like that. “I’m just...tired of it already. I get why people don’t like dating. This is exhausting. What am I supposed to do with all these stupid facts about girls favorite films and music? Drop it all?”
“Yeah, just forget it all. Think about what kind of films and music the girl you would marry would like.” She shrugged, quill in hand and notepad ready to write. He sighed, not finding it an easy task.
“Something we can watch together. Sometimes things I’ve seen a million times, sometimes new stuff I’ve never heard of. Someone who might know their way around a muggle movie theater.” He listed off. “Romantic comedies; horror movies, but like the really bad ones we could laugh about together but still make you jump sometimes.” They both reminisced to summer nights at the Burrow, where they had had other late-night encounters from being night owls. She smiled softly, wondering if he was remembering those nights, the small nights of peace from when they were young. “Old music, none of that Ke$ha shit I just heard on the muggle radio. I like my grunge bands and--”
“Your dad music.” She laughed, writing it down.
“What?”
“It’s just that your music taste is totally something middle aged muggle dads listen to.” She shrugged, thinking of her own family briefly. He laughed.
“I guess so.”
“Hey Fred?” He made a small noise that meant ‘go on.’ “Why did you start hating me so much? You know,” She wrung her hands, not wanting to admit that his hate for her bothered her. She didn’t like not being liked, especially considering they had been silent friends for a long time before Fred started hating her.
“After the war?” He asked, she nodded. “You just seemed to take everything so well. You seemed so resilient, like we hadn’t almost died together. I had those awful night terrors every night, and you and George kept helping and I-- I don’t know. I guess I wanted to feel resilient, too. I resented you for it.”
“The shower.”
“What?” His eyes bulged immediately.
“The shower. I always cried and screamed in the shower. I didn’t ever want anyone to comfort me, and it made my PTSD a lot worse. Now I feel like all I do is bake. God, I’m turning into--”
“My mum.” He smirked.
“Shut up, yes. It’s how I cope now. It--” She hesitated, looking up from her hands, which she had taken a peculiar interest in. “It just feels like I’m getting through each day. I feel like we lived through this huge thing, and now I can’t even live my life.”
“Why do you think I haven’t settled down?” He mumbled.
“Really?” She furrowed her eyebrows, curious.
“Sometimes it just feels like...what’s the point? What if we end up in another war?” He was staring off into the corner of the kitchen, likely remembering the wall that fell on both of them.
“You know, I go to therapy.” She shrugged. “Maybe you should, too.” He nodded, wondering if there were wizard therapists. “Yes there are wizard therapists.” She sighed, smiling.
“Did I say it out loud?”
“No, I just know you.” She shrugged. “I hope you resent me a little less, now.” She smiled at him.
“Well, why didn’t you like me?”
“Because George tells you everything, and he trusts you so much. He didn’t tell me about...you know...until way after it happened. Sometimes I still get upset when I remember that you knew for so long.”
“What are you talking about? I found out like, maybe a day before you.” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“Wh-why would George tell me you knew?” She furrowed her brow too. They stared at each other in confusion.
“Maybe we have two missions.” Fred smirked, holding his hand out. “Let’s make a deal. You get me a date to the wedding and we find out what George is hiding.” She shook his hand, avoiding the thought that what they find out could potentially call off the wedding.
-
The following night, Fred came home, looking somewhat blue once again. Y/N flicked the light on, and he turned on her quickly.
“I expected it this time, fucker!” He laughed, somewhat manically. She giggled.
“And how was the bank girl?” She asked kindly, standing up and following Fred to the kitchen. Tonight she had made cream horns. They were long, thin cookies that served as a wrapper around a creamy filling. Fred loved it, it reminded him of a butter cookie his mom made when they were kids, but had stopped making over time as they were ‘a pain in the ass’ to make.
“She was fine, I guess.” He said with a cookie in his mouth, she laughed. It seemed like it would be a nightly occurrence that he would talk with food in his mouth. “I’m pretty sure she stopped listening to you after you said Weasley, because she definitely thought this was going to be a blind date with Bill.” He scrunched up his face in disgust at the thought.
“Oh, but I told her a bunch about you.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, upset.
“Well, it’s not your fault she was obsessed with him. I’m pretty sure she only works at Gringotts on the off chance she’ll meet him one day.”
“Doesn’t he work in Egypt?”
“Not anymore, ever since Victoire was born. Still,” He paused having to think hard of what his sibling was doing. “I don’t even know if he still works for Gringotts, honestly.” He furrowed his eyebrows. He was starting to realize he didn’t know a whole lot about his siblings that were far away. He knew literally everything about George, he even had a hunch about what suspicious thing George was up to.
“Maybe you should spend some time with your other siblings.” She chuckled, sipping her tea. Tonight, she wasn’t looking at the paper. She decided she would set up the date in the morning, and that she could spend this time with Fred. He propped his head up on his left hand, watching Y/N. His chest felt tight.
“Maybe.” He shrugged, ignoring the feeling arising in his stomach. “I grew up with them, so you know, I don’t really need to.”
“Well you went to school with me,” She giggled, rolling her eyes. “And it feels like we spend every waking moment together.” She drank from her floral tea cup. It had been a gift from Hermione when she moved in with the boys. Something to remind you of yourself.
“Because we have! It’s already been three days! And we haven’t fought in so long.” He grinned, reaching across the table to punch her on her shoulder with his right hand.
“So long! Three days! It’s almost like that last summer before the war.” She rested her head on her right hand to mirror Fred. She remembered watching John Hughes movies, laughing and making fun of awful jokes and bad scares in horror movies, feeling tired but not wanting to sleep. Feeling afraid she would wake up the next day and have no one, not even her quiet bordering-on-friendship with Fred, because she’d wake up and everyone would be dead.
“You mean when we would stay up all night and sleep all day while George ran the shop.” Fred fluttered his eyelids closed, thinking about that summer. They switched who would pick the movie each night. Halfway through the night they’d get hungry and Y/N would make them something to eat. It was when he realized he actually really liked Y/N. During the war, things got bad, because he remembered that even though they had their sweet late-night moments, she wasn’t his. It hurt him, back then.
“And we never argued. Not until the war started.” She smiled softly. “But then again, everyone fought when the war started.” She shrugged, thinking about the stories Hermione had told her about the arguments she and Harry and Ron had had out in their tent in the middle of nowhere. Fred didn’t want to tell her that he only fought with her to push her away. What he said about hating her after the war was true. He didn’t really hate her until after they nearly died together. Even then, he just resented her.
“I’m sorry.” He said. He didn’t whisper it. He didn’t look down. He just spoke evenly, and apologized. Y/N was surprised, because Fred had never really apologized to her before. She was also used to the way George apologized. Head hung, no eye contact. She rarely could ever even hear his apology. She smiled at Fred.
“I’m sorry, too.” She thought she might tear up, but it was out of joy. For once Fred had her crying out of joy.
“Oh, fuck, did I do something?” He asked, seeing her glossy eyes. She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head.
“No, you idiot. I’m just glad we’re good now.” She sniffled. He attempted to hold back his grin, but couldn’t.
“I guess I am too.” He sighed as if it was a chore to share his feelings. She laughed and reached across the table to punch his shoulder lightly. “Anyway...where’s George tonight?” He whispered, almost as if raising his voice any higher could break her.
“Upstairs, asleep. He got home earlier than last night. Like 8:30.” She shrugged. “But he went to bed pretty soon after he got home.”
“And how are you?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged truthfully. “I’m just tired of eating dinner alone.” She sighed, crossing her arms on the table and setting her head on top. Fred didn’t know what to say. He’d felt that way before he had started sleeping with women every night. He understood, but this was a different situation.
“Well, at least you never have to eat dessert alone.” He smiled warmly. She lifted her head just enough so she could see him. She smiled into her arms, but her eyes gave her away to Fred.
“Yeah, at least I’ve got my late night encounter buddy.” She lifted her head fully off of her arms.
“I have a secret,” Fred whispered. Y/N cupped her hand behind her ear to show she was listening. “I can bug his phone.” Her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to invade George’s privacy like that. The second she started shaking her head he waved her off. “I already did, I just wanted to see your reaction.” She gasped.
“Frederick Gideon Weasley!!” She wacked his arm across the table
-
The next night, Y/N had the light on when Fred came home. She felt bad scaring him so much the nights before. That night Fred came home in a good mood, and then she realized he was drunk! He was just a happy drunk!
“Frederick!” She furrowed her eyebrows, standing up.
“Shhh, Y/N will hear!” He rushed over giggling, putting his hands over her mouth, she smiled against the palm of his hand. She pried one of his hands away from her mouth, grabbing it and dragging him into the kitchen.
“Sit down, drink your tea, and eat your cookies.” She pointed a stern finger at him. She had made double chocolate and mint chip cookies. Fred thought he could die at how good they tasted, he decided these definitely had to be his favorite, but he was afraid of getting in trouble for making noise.
“Pssttt…” He whispered, not so quietly, she looked up, trying not to grin at his behavior. “These are really good. Like really good. These are my favorites, you should bring these to Christmas dinner.” He whispered loudly, eyes wide like a childs. Y/N had a strange warm feeling in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long time. George wasn’t like this when he drank, he just got tired and passed out on any flat surface.
“Thank you, Fred.” She smiled softly at him, he smiled at her with a cookie in his mouth, making her laugh as she handed him his tea. “Now, can you tell me what you liked and disliked about the girl this time? How was the date?”
“Uhhh, she was fine. She was, like, really into quidditch. I’m into quidditch, but like...but like she was, like, really into it. You know? Like she reminded me of some losers in your class.” She knew he was referencing Ron, and she rolled her eyes.
“You mean your brother?”
“How dare you correctly assume that! That’s my brother, only I can call him a loser.” He grinned, sipping his tea. She liked drunk Fred, because it was just normal Fred with a couple less brain cells.
“Alright, alright, I’ll just leave you in here on your own to bully your siblings by yourself.”
“No!!” He pulled on her sleeve as she tried to exit the kitchen, she was laughing, and came to sit down across from him again. “Anyway, I couldn’t focus very well on her. So maybe she was just trying to fill the silence.” He shrugged. “And I got drunk, so there’s that.” He put a hand on his chin in thought.
“Why couldn’t you focus?”
“I think George is cheating on you.” He said bluntly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Oh.”
“Y/N, I don’t understand you at this point,” He sighed heavily, slamming his head on the table. You cringed, knowing it would hurt in the morning. “You stay with him, but he’s done it before. I bet it’s with her again--”
“Fred, I don’t think I want to talk about it.” Y/N wrung her hands out.
“You want to know why I resent you? You treat yourself terribly.” He was entirely too calm. “You should’ve left the last time.”
“Don’t tell me what to do with my relationship!”
“I care about you! I’m telling you what your friends didn’t! Everyone said save the relationship because they all married the people they dated in school, but there’s no rule that says you have to do that! Look at me!”
“Yeah, look at you, completely heartbroken over the fact that your brother is fucking the girl you dated in school.”
“I don’t care about that anymore! You’re so stupid sometimes!” He yelled drunkenly, with tears in his eyes. “You’re like no one I’ve ever met before. How do you do that? How are you so different?”
“Don’t pull one of those ‘you’re not like other girls’ things.” She laughed, trying to distract herself.
“No, you’re like every other girl, but you’re you. And you have your experiences, and you might do everything all those other girls do, but you do it for different reasons, just like all of those girls do. Nobody’s the same.” He furrowed his eyebrows, a little confused at his own wording.
“Fred Weasley, did you just...respect women in front of me?”
“I respect the hell out of women!”
“Okay, okay! Sorry!” She giggled, putting her hands up in defense.
“I just...why don’t you respect yourself?” He asked calmly again. Y/N stared off into the corner of the kitchen.
“What if my whole life falls apart without you guys in it? What if I don’t know who I am apart from George?”
“Merlin, Y/N I know who you are apart from George and I’ve only spent a couple days with you. Well...and a couple years, I guess.” He shrugged. “You’re this gorgeous, intelligent, little tiny nerd.”
“I get it, I’m small.”
“Shh! You’re a small little baby nerd. And you’re good at art and you’re so poetic. You stress bake, and you cook when you’re happy and stressed. You make the best cookies in the world. You’re considerate, because you’re nice to me when I’m mean to you and you memorized the way I take my tea and I had no idea. You love those stupid cliche romantic comedies but you get so embarrassed any time anyone makes one of those big gestures in a crowd. You’re disappointed that George proposed to you, you’re disappointed in the way he did it, and you’re disappointed that he did it just to get away with cheating on you. And you know he did, and you’ve known for a lot longer than I have, because you’re smarter than everyone in this house.”
“Fred, there’s only two people in this house.”
“Well, I’m pretty smart, so it’s still a feat.” He grinned, grabbing her hand from across the table. He took the ring off, and set it on the table next to the window. “Just think about confronting him. I’m not saying you have to. Just...consider it.”
Warnings: cursing, teasing/rudeness, grinding, mentions of sex
Word Count: 4.7K
A/N: Hey everyone!! Sorry for the (not so) brief hiatus, I entered a relationship that ended and was finishing my last semester in school. Officially graduated!! Thanks for you patience, here’s the first part of a new mini fic (should only be about 5 parts) thats a haters to lovers fic w/ Fred. I will also be updated the New Girl AU soon.
in which neville likes to slap his girlfriend’s butt a lot.
warnings: swearing, nev being a little shit
idk a blurb??? ig?????
—
the first time he ever did it was fourth year. it was sudden, and you couldn’t deny that it took you by surprise. i mean, neville longbottom had just slapped your ass for merlin’s sake. at the time, your relationship with him was strictly flirtatious. mutual feelings had already been claimed, and at the time, it was just a waiting game.
but, he finally did ask you to be his lovely lady. and ever since the first task in fourth year, you were head over heels.
neville though, he continued on with the flirting. he might pass you by in the hallways, he’ll yell something among the lines of, “hey! looking really fit today, y/l/n!”
and something else he did, oh god. he had grown addicted to walking up behind you, and just making sure everyone knows that he’s the only one that’s allowed to smack your ass.
like today, he had done it three times already.
first time was just this morning. you were in the halls, talking to one of your guy friends about a project that was due soon. just as you were about to laugh at his jokes, a harsh pain shot through your butt and back instead.
you hissed as you whipped your head, “fuck you!” you cried, holding your butt in the palms of your hand. “that one really hurt!”
neville simply laughed, and planted a small kiss to your lips. and then, he simply walked away.
the second time was in the great hall during lunch, and you were setting your things down, making sure no books would fall out of your bag. seamus was beside you, making some sort of joke about snape’s nose. and again, that same pain on your butt arrived.
“neville!”
“gotcha!”
you punched his shoulder and he chuckled as he hugged your from behind.
and then now.
all students had been called to come to the great hall for dinner and a special announcement. it was always exciting when one of the professors said there would be an announcement, because at hogwarts, you never knew what would happen that year.
“oh, he’ll grow out of it! that’s probably just his love language, you know?” angelina told you from beside you, and you scoffed.
“i love the boy, but i’m tired of my ass cheeks burning all the time!”
your words made you and angelina both giggle as you continued to walk through the crowded halls. at one point, angelina parted ways to go talk with another one of her friends. so, you continued your small journey to the great hall, a sneaky feeling coming upon you.
you instinctively covered your ass and turned your head, and of course, there neville was. he was sneaking up behind you, and his eyes went wide.
“ha! gotcha!” you stated, a smirk on your face. he smiled at you, and ran up to walk with you.
“i would’ve done it if you weren’t covering your ass!”
and after just a few shorts minutes of conversation, you entered the great hall, being forced to walk in front of neville due to the amount of people who were trying to go in all at once.
“gotcha.”
that’s when neville started to gently slap both of his hands on your butt. you chuckled as you tried to shove him away, but he refused to let up.
