camz's room @hanfanfiqueiro - Tumblr Blog

Waiting for love

*pairing: hot nerdy boy Jake x student party Girl

*trope: tutoring

*synopsis: Jake is a bookworm who loves to spend hours studying, reading manga or playing with Lego or video games, he doesn’t like distractions and especially he doesn’t tolerate frivolous people who only think of having fun and social media. Like a hurricane that comes across a quiet island Y/n needs the help of a nerd to pass an exam: (mathematics) and asks Jake if he can help her, but she doesn't know that with this request their two worlds will meet and perhaps even clash with their different characters, with their conflicting feelings and with their different lifestyles: On the one hand there is Jake who is ambivert and loves calm and then there is her who is an influencer always with a smile, full of life and who loves to have fun.

*tags: At first Jake finds Y/n slightly frivolous and chaotic, fluffy, soft energy boy, Jake is slightly nerdy but also cheeky when he wants, Y/n is cheeky, lots of kisses, Jake is literally a clingy boy and very physical, Jake doesn't have much experience when it comes to "spicy" things, FM masturbation, hickeys, unprotected sex (don't horny ppl) college anxiety, pet names (starlet, sweetheart) (nerd,Jakey, clingy boy) statement, +18

The Math1 exam wasn’t just an academic obstacle that every student in marketing, economics, communication, engineering, or mathematics had to overcome; it had become a monster for you, one that invaded your thoughts every night before you fell asleep and again the moment you woke up. It whispered that you would never be enough, that you would never pass. You knew it was a hard exam after all; everyone failed it once or even twice.

The first time you tried, you walked out of the classroom with a shrug and an ironic joke about the formulas looking more like hieroglyphs from some lost language than anything you could ever study. The second time, you convinced yourself it wasn’t your fault: you had prepared for three exams at once: Fashion Management, Media History, and Math1, and it was inevitable that at least one wouldn’t go as planned. But the third time… the third time was different.

You had studied only for that exam, for more than two months, doing practice tests, exam simulations, and sleepless nights instead of going out to fancy places or events where brands had started inviting you because you had begun to gain a bit of traction in the social media world. On Instagram and TikTok, you posted your outfits, sketches of clothes you had designed, and your aesthetic days in chic, Instagrammable spots around Seoul.

The professor’s email had arrived in your inbox at 5:07 p.m. on a Thursday, with the inevitable red banner: Exam not passed, followed by the professor’s note at the bottom.

“Miss Y/N, I suggest you find a tutor for my subject if you wish to pass the exam next time.”

Since then, you have done nothing but reread it repeatedly. The phrase sat there cold, impersonal, yet sharp as a blade:

“Miss Y/N, I suggest you find a tutor for my subject if you wish to pass the exam next time.”

You cursed him in every language you knew, but it was useless. Each time your eyes ran over those words, your heart seemed to sink a little deeper until you found yourself face down in your pillow, laptop still open in front of you.

You cried five times in two days… five, and still it wasn’t enough to empty the feeling of failure, not only for yourself but also for your parents, who couldn’t wait to see you graduate.

“Y/N, stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Rosé sighed from the white-and-pink pouf where she was curled up, phone in hand, her face lit up by the glow of TikTok while a viral song replayed in your room.

“Reading that email a hundred times won’t solve anything. Click the link, pick a tutor, and move on.”

You shook your head, cheeks already damp as a new wave of tears burned your eyes. You hated being seen like this. You were always the life of the party, the one who organized outings, kept the peace, and rarely ever cried but ever since failing that exam, you felt trapped inside your own negative thoughts.

A sob slipped out, enough for Rosé to drop her phone and come over to your bed. She pulled the laptop from your hands and set it far away, like it was toxic to your mental health.

“I don’t want to see you like this over an exam, Y/N...it’s not worth it. Do you know how many worse things there are in the world?” she said as she gently wiped away the smudges of mascara mixed with concealer under your tired eyes.

“It’s not the end of the world, Y/N. It’s just university. We all have breakdowns, we all fail sometimes, but then we get back up, and we fight for our success.”

You rested your head on her shoulder, trying to steal some of her strength, and she hugged you close with a soft sigh.

“Now listen to me. Open that forum, pick a tutor, and in a few months, you’ll crush that math professor. And I’ll be right there, raising a glass with you in some fancy place, getting drunk to celebrate beating these boring subjects.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. With trembling fingers, you returned to the university forum under the “Tutoring” section. An endless gallery of profiles appeared: students with serious expressions, proudly displaying their perfect grades...grades that looked like mountains to you. You scrolled halfheartedly, nearly hopeless, until the cursor stopped and your eyes fell on one name: Jake Sim.

The photo showed a tall boy with broad shoulders, slightly long hair, and a dark hoodie, holding a golden retriever who seemed to be smiling as brightly as he was. It was a sweet photo that radiated confidence but it wasn’t the dog that caught your attention. It was him.

He wasn’t looking at the camera but at his dog, with an affectionate, attentive gaze, a mix of shyness and strength you hadn’t expected from a “nerd.” His eyes seemed to radiate joy to anyone around him, and you froze, whispering his name softly.

“Do you know him?” You asked in a low voice, tilting her head with a small pout.

“I’ve seen him around with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon...the one they call the prodigy who might get picked for the Olympic team,” she explained.

You nodded and scrolled through Jake’s grades, eyes widening. It was almost inhuman to see such remarkably high scores in subjects like Computer Engineering, Math 1, Math2, Statistics, and others.

“He’s… seriously an insane nerd,” you whispered with your mouth slightly open, making Rosé laugh, her bright laugh that always carried lightness.

“That’s exactly why he’s a tutor, Y/n, and exactly what you need!”

You kept staring at his photo. Something about him pulled you in. You couldn’t tell if it was his gaze, the calm aura, or the strange sweetness he managed to transmit even through a screen. You turned to Rosé with a mischievous smile.

“Maybe… I just found my tutor.”

Rosé slapped your thigh, satisfied with your choice. But you couldn’t know then that the name Jake Sim wouldn’t just help you pass an exam… it would turn your whole life upside down.

Jake wasn’t just any nerd, or at least, he didn’t feel like one. Sure, people saw him as the guy always buried in math or physics books, the one who never got a problem wrong and preferred spending a Friday night in the library or in his room watching movies or playing online with friends rather than going out to a club but Jake knew he was more than that: he had a tight-knit group of friends he considered family for years, impromptu soccer games that made him laugh until he cried on the field near the university, late nights in front of the console with a bowl of overly salty ramen, or at some arcade in central Seoul, giggling with friends while munching on corndogs.

He loved his life, even if others didn’t understand it. He was proud of his passion for applied statistics, for those colorful graphs and numbers that seemed incomprehensible to most but told him stories of markets, of choices, of people who had invested their whole lives in that tiny percentage and risked everything to see something grow. That’s why he had chosen applied statistics over mathematics at university. He was one of the top students in his course, in the top five for both credits and academic achievements.

The tutor profile on the university forum wasn’t even created by him. The administration made it automatic: if you were good and had excellent grades and achievements, your profile would appear as a kind of living billboard.

Jake had tried to refuse at first. He didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to tutor someone he didn’t know, and he definitely didn’t want to waste his time. But the professor had made it clear that a bit of tutoring could make his final grades and his CV even more impressive. So Jake nodded politely in the professor’s office, but the moment he stepped out, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his thick hair, a nervous tic of his until you appeared.

That Friday evening, the third floor of the library was almost deserted. A couple of girls were hunched over biology textbooks, a blond boy was asleep at his computer, and Jake sat in a slightly oversized hoodie, hair falling over his face, pencil in his mouth, eyes locked on a statistics problem that even he found puzzling. His table was scattered with papers, colorful graphs, and notes. He was trying to make applied statistics at least somewhat bearable with glitter pens, arrows perfectly aligned in bright colors, all meant to keep him awake long enough to study.

His gaze was fixed on a single incorrect percentage, not looking up to see what others were doing for fear of distraction, and so he didn’t notice your presence in the library. You, however, had been searching for Jake all afternoon: the main library, the math department, even the café on the first floor, but nothing. His name, Jake Sim, kept echoing in your mind like an irritating refrain as you climbed the stairs. A small frown tugged at your lips when, even on the second floor by the student library near the soccer field, he wasn’t there.

Finally, you reached the third floor, sighing in frustration, and when you looked up… there he was.

Your eyes found him instantly, like radar: the rebellious dark tuft of hair, the hoodie you recognized from his forum photo, the way he held the pencil between his lips as if it were an extension of his thoughts. He didn’t even seem aware of how many hours had passed since he’d been hunched over that chair. You, in your black pleated skirt, red sweater over a light jacket, and heels echoing on the wooden floor, approached his table. Every step drew curious glances: some distracted themselves from their own work, others raised their eyebrows after all, it wasn’t every day a cover-model-looking girl walked into the library as if it were a photoshoot.

Jake didn’t move. He didn’t even glance at you. So you dragged a chair next to his, the screech of it slicing through the perfect silence of the third floor. He jumped, turning around, expecting to see Heeseung or Jay with a quip about how long he’d been in the library or sometimes they called him the “library rat.” But this time… it was you.

For a moment, he froze. His dark eyes quickly scanned you, from your long hair to your playful smile, from the red sweater softly hugging your curves to the edge of your black skirt revealing just a hint of your long legs. He swallowed hard, as if the air had suddenly grown heavier.

“Hi,” you said lightly, tilting your head just a little. “You’re Jake Sim, right?” He nodded slowly. You had expected a clumsy nerd, maybe with crooked glasses and an insecure air, but no. Jake Sim was… stunning. Too good-looking to be real. Beautiful in that almost infuriating way that didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. His dark hair was slightly messy, his veined hands gripping the pen, his broad shoulders covered by a hoodie, and a gaze that seemed a little shy at first, but you bet he could be outgoing and friendly with the right people. Jake just nodded again, his eyes flicking over you quickly before darting away, as if he didn’t know where to look without seeming awkward. You leaned over the table, encroaching on the space he had carefully protected until now, as if only he and the subject in front of you existed, percentages, numbers, parentheses you’d never seen, and two textbooks bigger than your heads.

“Perfect,” you said coyly, curling your lips into a smile you knew could affect anyone. “So you’re the one who’s going to save my life.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, fingers ruffling the messy tuft, raising an eyebrow as if to contain the absurdity of that statement. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?” he said, shrugging. He didn’t yet know who you were or why you were there, babbling like you were in a café. You didn’t flinch. Instead, you dropped onto the chair next to him without asking, crossing your legs naturally and tossing your hair over your shoulder a carefully rehearsed move to seem casual, though the truth was you were far more nervous than you wanted to admit. Jake, on the other hand, thought you were… too much. Too loud for a library, too intrusive for his taste, too bright for a Friday evening, he had imagined quiet and boring like all his usual weekends. “I saw your profile in the tutoring section,” you continued, tilting your head slightly. “And I’d like you as my tutor. You managed to pass Math 1 on your first try and… let’s just say I wasn’t that lucky. The professor suggested I get a tutor, and when I saw your profile, you immediately caught my attention.” You said it in a tone far too sweet for Jake, who thought you were teasing him. After all, you were the first girl to ask him to tutor someone. He removed the pencil from his mouth, setting it carefully on the notebook. “Math 1 is a minefield,” he said calmly. “Everyone fails at least once. I’m sure you’ll pass next time.”

He returned to his notes as if the conversation were over, but you weren’t the type to give up so easily. You leaned closer, invading his space again just enough to assert your presence. “Let’s just say I know from experience it’s not that simple. You can fail many times… and that’s why I’m desperate,” you said, your tone almost pleading. “I’ve failed a couple of times… so I seriously need a tutor… otherwise, I wouldn’t be here asking you.” Your eyes glistened with a carefully crafted innocence or maybe it was real, because you were desperate and that puppy-dog look that worked on your father didn’t have quite the same effect on the boy in front of you. You tried every trick to seem helpless, slightly intimidated by the subject.

Jake just stared at you, speaking firmly: “I don’t have time to waste.” What he didn’t say was what he was really thinking: that you were beautiful, too out of place in this room, that the way your red sweater slid over your shoulders was distracting, that your crossed legs seemed made to make him blush, and above all, that he couldn’t understand why his heart had started beating faster. You leaned on his arm, pretending to be offended. “Hey, neither do I. I’ve got a degree to get, you know?” You laughed, lifting your chin slightly and flashing one of those rare, friendly smiles. Jake looked down as if he already regretted speaking to you, then sighed, like he was surrendering to a game he didn’t want to play. “If you really want to pass that exam… tomorrow, meet me in this library at three o’clock sharp. Not a minute later, and if you’re late, we don’t even start,” he said, immediately regretting his words toward you. A satisfied smile spread across your face. “Three o’clock? Promise. Oh, and I’ll even get you coffee,” you said, laughing. He stayed silent a few seconds too long, studying you as if trying to decipher whether you were serious or just another frivolous girl who thought she could get everything with a smile. “Tomorrow. Three PM. I repeat, a minute late and I won’t even try.” A mischievous smile lit up your face as you rose from the chair. “Deal, tutor,” you said. Jake returned to his notes, watching you write your number in the corner of his empty page, mentally cursing himself for giving you a chance. Suddenly, letters and numbers seemed jumbled, blurred by your smile, and for the first time in a long while, he thought maybe a small break wouldn’t hurt… or maybe it wasn’t a break at all. Maybe it was just the beginning of a distraction with a very precise name: Y/N.

The library was strangely crowded for a Saturday afternoon. Some students had carved out corners to finish the last group projects, others were there preparing for their most dreaded exams, and a few were whispering secrets in hidden nooks that no one else was supposed to hear.

Jake, however, had already been at his spot since 2:50 PM, at the same table as yesterday, with the same obsessive orderliness: laptop open, notes spread out like a fan, exercise book open to the chapter on integrals, and even two pens perfectly aligned one blue, one black as if he thought you might forget them. For him, having seen you even just once, your presence had been catalogued in his mind as “HUMAN CHAOS.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to tutor Y/N,” Heeseung chuckled, stretching in the chair next to him. “I seriously need to see with my own eyes if that girl actually shows up on a Saturday afternoon to study with you.” He shook his head, amused by the situation.

Jake barely glanced at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed, a little annoyed at his best friend for making it seem like it was a huge deal that you’d come to ask him to be your tutor.

“I told you, she came looking for me yesterday and she… literally looked desperate.”

Heeseung held his phone toward Jake, screen glowing with your Instagram profile, boasting over 70k followers and dozens of polished photos: flawless outfits, confident poses, dazzling smiles, and travel shots he could only dream about. Then, as if they were in a bar rather than a library, Heeseung scrolled through your TikTok feed, where a simple outfit check video in front of a mirror had hundreds of likes and views.

“Desperate, huh? Come on, Jake. This is the same girl who models for the uni’s basketball team T-shirts and online ads, the ones on billboards around the city. Everyone knows that if you put a pretty girl in an ad, most guys will think every girl at that university looks like her. She wouldn’t skip a single party under torture, and you think she’ll spend Saturday afternoon here with us? Or rather… with you, because I’m an athlete and I certainly don’t study math.”

Jake reached to take the phone and lower it, but Heeseung deftly pulled it away, chuckling.

“Wait, wait. I’m doing research,” he added in a teasing tone. “Clean profile, zero pictures with guys, which means she’s single.”

Jake rolled his eyes and gave his hyung a pointed look. “And what does that have to do with anything?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“That you’re an idiot if you don’t try a little,” Heeseung replied without hesitation. “She’s basically your type: outgoing, fun-loving, flirty, and physically your type too. Don’t tell me she isn’t, because I’ve known you forever.”

Jake coughed lightly, lowering his gaze to his book. He wasn’t the type to blush over something so trivial, but something about Heeseung’s words had sunk under his skin. Even though he had noticed you in the hallways or on uni posters, he had always thought you were beautiful but he had never made a move. After all, he didn’t spend his weekends at parties or fancy Seoul clubs.

“She’s late,” he muttered. “I said three o’clock sharp in the library.” He glanced at his phone: 3:05 PM. Heeseung just chuckled at his friend’s annoyance, though he was clearly curious, until the library door opened and the sound of your boots broke the silence.

You entered as if it weren’t a Saturday afternoon but a glamorous event. Your outfit was impeccable: a black pleated skirt, a white T-shirt with a printed design, a light jacket, and a designer bag carried with casual ease. But it wasn’t just the look that turned heads; it was the aura: someone who could attract attention without even trying.

Heeseung shot Jake a huge grin, leaning toward him. “There she is,” he whispered, standing from his chair. “I can’t wait to see what you two get up to.”

Jake gave him a pointed look but ignored his friend’s teasing. You, instead, approached the table in a few strides and stopped in front of them.

“You’re late,” Jake said, barely lifting his eyes from a sheet of paper. You pouted slightly and placed a clear cup on the table, topped with foam and a dusting of cocoa.

“There was a line at the café,” you replied, waving your Caramel Macchiato as proof. “You should thank me, I even thought of you.”

Jake glanced at you in surprise and saw the latte in your hand, the cocoa dust spelling “Jake” with a little heart. And it was his favorite… how on earth did you know that?

His cheeks instantly warmed, and it took a moment before he looked back down at the table. Heeseung snickered, gathering his things.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your… academic date,” he said, drawing out the word date ironically, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. You waved with a small smile, and both you and Jake watched him disappear through the door.

You sat down beside Jake, sipping your drink slowly, noticing how his cheeks were noticeably rosier than yesterday. A small grin curled your lips as you realized the effect you were having, while on the other side, Jake was silently wondering how the hell he was supposed to concentrate. The way you bent to sip from the straw seemed more dangerous than any integral he had to solve, and he couldn’t help but notice the way you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

You pulled out your notebook, exercise book, and a small pencil case full of colored pens to add a bit of color to all those formulas you were going to have to start understanding again. Jake glanced at you almost involuntarily, and for a moment, he saw you less as a “perfect influencer” and more like a normal student, scared of the exam.

“Do you want to start with a specific chapter, the one that gave you the most trouble? Or do you want to do a proper review from the beginning?” he asked, his tone calm and practical, as if he just wanted to get to the point. You looked up at him, giving a tight smile and biting your lower lip slightly, a little scared to admit how many times you had failed.

“Maybe… It’s better to start from the beginning,” you admitted softly.

“I’ve failed three times, and let’s say I didn’t take that last failure very well. I really want to pass this exam but also understand it a bit, because honestly, until now, I haven’t really gotten much from this subject.”

You looked at him with a strained smile, expecting a joke, a raised eyebrow, maybe even a half-smile of mockery for your repeated failures. But Jake didn’t move a muscle; he just nodded and organized his neatly arranged notes in front of you.

“No problem. I’m not here to judge whether you’ve failed once or three times. The theory can be picked up in ten days, and I’m sure that after studying with me, you’ll understand it well. The exercises are tough, but I have my notes and all the sheets that helped me pass the exam on the first try, and I bet with commitment you’ll manage it.”

A sigh escaped your lips, accompanied by a small “Let’s hope…” as you looked at all the theory pages you had to study. It seemed like a huge mountain to climb. But he shook his head, looking at you attentively.

“Don’t start negatively. With some work and the right method, you can overcome any obstacle,” he said with a small smile. You returned a half-smile, this time more genuine. Maybe he wasn’t as cold or judgmental as he seemed.

Jake began explaining the basic concepts: limits, derivatives, and logarithmic functions. Every step was clear, almost natural for him, but slightly harder for you. Gradually, though, you were starting to understand.

“The secret is to think of numbers as a language, not as something you’ll never solve. Letters are symbols, and signs are logical operations. You don’t need photographic memory; you need method, commitment, lots of exercises, and concentration. If you’re not focused, nothing will work. And if during the lessons it seems too much, tell me we can stop for ten minutes to take a break, then pick up again.”

You nodded, thinking he was seriously a model student. He even spoke like some professors. You took notes diligently, neat rows of colorful writing, your hand moving quickly, and for a good hour, you didn’t say a word.

The real distraction wasn’t the numbers, though. Now and then, your eyes drifted: to his dark tuft of hair falling over his forehead, to his sharp nose moving slightly when he sighed, to his soft lips articulating difficult words like verses of some unknown theorem, but those lips called to you like a supernatural force: Kiss me, kiss me, your mind whispered. You shook your head several times, and his hands… God, those hands were illegal. Veins ran from his forearms to his long, slender fingers. You wanted those hands on you in every possible way and bit the inside of your cheek because the truth was, you had never noticed how attractive Jake Sim was, and now it seemed almost unfair.

A snap of fingers jerked you back to reality, and you blinked.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a gentle smile. You couldn’t tell him what you were thinking about him, so you brought the pen to your mouth, pretending to be thoughtful.

“Mm…” you scratched the back of your neck, looking for an excuse. “I got distracted for a moment; it’s all the numbers’ fault.”

Jake let out a low, brief chuckle that made your stomach tighten.

“If there’s something you don’t understand, tell me. You’re here to learn, Y/N.”

You seized the opportunity. “Okay, okay, then explain again the derivative of a logarithmic function. It seems… like a nightmare.”

He leaned toward you, almost brushing your notebook, and used the pen to draw precise lines, writing the formulas.

“Look. If you have f(x) = log(x), its derivative is 1/x. It’s like a fixed rule: logarithms always behave this way. Just remember this base, and you can solve everything.”

You nodded, but in reality, you were more focused on the movement of his lips than the symbols on the page. Your gaze then slid down to his fingers gripping the pen, and every time he changed his hold, it seemed almost sensual. Jake noticed the distraction in your eyes. “Are you tired?” he asked, softer than expected. You nodded. “A little… I’m not used to leaning over all these formulas: functions, integrals, Greek letters… it’s like reading another language.” Jake smiled faintly, letting out a small amused sigh. “For a first lesson, you didn’t do badly, and I bet in the next ones you’ll be able to focus more and understand more formulas than today.” You nodded and lifted your cup, sipping the last of your Caramel Macchiato, too sweet but strangely comforting. Just then, he stretched, and his loose hoodie slid slightly, revealing a thin strip of skin from the waistband of his jeans to his belly button. You glimpsed the golden skin of his stomach and a faint line of hair descending, accompanied by the defined shadow of his abs. Christ, Y/N, you scolded yourself mentally. You came here to study, not stare at the body of a nerd you didn’t even think had such a defined V-line.

You found yourself biting the straw harder, and when you looked up, he was watching you. His lips curved into a small ironic half-smile at how intently you were staring. “I never thought I’d see you studying math… seriously,” Jake said, arms behind his head, stretching and making a slight cracking sound. One eyebrow raised on your face. “Oh really? And why not? Don’t tell me no one ever taught you: never judge a book by its cover.” Jake shrugged, running a hand through his hair as if taking time to figure out whether you were serious or just playing. “I didn’t mean to judge. It’s just…” he hesitated for a moment. “I’ve seen you as a university model, at Seoul Fashion Week events, skincare, fashion, TikTok… you’re everywhere, and it’s weird seeing you study and work hard on a subject.” You placed your hands on the table, leaning a few centimeters closer to him. “That’s judging, Jake. And how do you know all this about me? Are you stalking me or something?” He straightened slightly against the chair, swallowing. You saw his Adam’s apple move as he breathed deeper, you were so close, and he couldn’t help but be intoxicated by your scent: sweet fig notes mixed with something spicy, warm, crawling under his skin. Jake couldn’t take his eyes off the small beauty mark above your cupid’s bow it wasn’t the usual glance one gives a friend or classmate: it was longer, more intense. He looked at you as if afraid of saying something wrong, and of course, you noticed his gaze on your lips. A slow, almost teasing smile curved yours as you tilted your head slightly, and Jake raised his hands in silent surrender.

“It’s not what you think… I didn’t stalk you. Heeseung showed me your profile just before you got here,” he said. You straightened slowly, gathering your pens and sliding the papers into your folder. “Mh-hm,” you replied, as if not fully believing him. Jake bit the inside of his cheek, thinking he was seriously an idiot for saying that. You stood and swung your bag onto your shoulder with a decisive motion. “Monday, same time, 3 PM?” you asked. He responded: “Y-yes,” he stammered, almost fearing you’d change your mind. Jake thought you had already left, but a moment later he felt your body lean close, your breath brushing his ear, and your voice came out in a whisper that set his neck on fire: “You’re not bad, Jake Sim. See you Monday. Oh… don’t stalk me too much on social or dream too much about me.” Your mischievous smile was the last thing he saw before you walked away confidently, leaving him at the table with his open notes and his heart racing far too fast for his own comfort.

Lessons with Jake went on at a pace that surprised you every time. Derivatives, integrals, Greek letters like α, β, ε, limits approaching infinity, composite functions… every concept that once felt like an enemy now looked at you with a mix of respect and still a little fear, but slowly you were beginning to understand that world made of letters and numbers. Just weeks ago, it gave you unbearable anxiety, but now, thanks to Jake’s explanations, things were finally starting to make sense. And yet, just when you felt you were grasping something, there was always some teasing, some back-and-forth that made you laugh or blush but strangely, it motivated you and made you actually want to spend time with Jake.

From the very first lesson, Jake had made it clear: phones were banned. And during this one, you were definitely frustrated with a ridiculously tricky exercise on numerical series and limits. Your phone kept buzzing every other minute—notifications, messages, Instagram stories and without meaning to, you glanced at the screen and typed a quick “yeah, okay” in reply.

Jake let out an exasperated sigh, grabbed your phone, and said, “Put that away. Don’t say you’re studying if you’re doing the opposite.”

“It was just one message…” You muttered as you watched him flip your phone face down and switch it off. Your mouth fell open, but he gave you a sharp look, and you ended up biting your lip before mumbling,

“That’s cruel… what if it’s an emergency call?” Jake only huffed again and told you to get back to studying.

One day after class, Rosé hooked her arm through yours as you were leaving the university hallway and gave you a sly little grin.

“So, explain this to me: why is it that every time you talk about Jake, you smile like you’ve just seen a Tiffany’s jewel or the limited-edition release of a designer bag?”

Your eyes widened. “What? That’s not true. I don’t look at Jake that way. Jake is just my tutor who, somehow, doesn’t ask me how, but is actually making me like and understand math.”

Rosé narrowed her eyes at you. “Mh-hm. Don’t even try, missy. I know you too well, and it looks like you enjoy spending more time with Jake than you want to admit.”

You widened your eyes again and shook your head quickly. “It’s just studying, Rosé. That’s it. Nothing else. You’re the one making up a thousand useless scenarios.”

Rosé chuckled, squeezing your arm as you walked together. “Fine, fine. But just know that when you two end up together, I’ll be the first one to say ‘I told you so.’”

Her words made your cheeks burn, and you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from blurting out something stupid.

It was a Friday night in Gangnam, the neighborhood of neon lights, rooftop bars, and buzzing clubs filled with students and young professionals looking to escape their daily grind. The streets overflowed with fancy lounges, pubs, nightclubs, boutique shops, local eateries, and even arcades. You, Rosé, and the rest of the girls had decided to kick off the night with a drink before heading to a brand-new club everyone was raving about for its music and its Ibiza-style aesthetic.

Each of you sparkled in your own way tight dresses, heels clicking on the pavement, flawless makeup. You, however, wore your signature twist: a black mini-dress with tiny rhinestones on the bodice, an oversized blazer draped effortlessly over your shoulders, and your cowboy boots that gave you an extra couple of centimeters. Elegant, but playful exactly your kind of look.

As you stepped out of the subway, the neon glow of bars lit up your path, mixing with the irresistible scent of street food. Laughter bubbled up between you and your friends when suddenly, an old arcade sign caught your eye. Behind the glass windows, you spotted a group of guys and among them was Jake.

You recognized him instantly. That dark, messy hair falling across his eyes, the way he tilted his head when he laughed, and most of all… that laugh. The one that had somehow stuck in your head like a song you couldn’t get rid of, one that was starting to feel dangerously familiar every time you heard it.

You froze, as if time itself had stopped. Rosé noticed immediately.

“Okay… why are we staring at some random group of guys?”

Her hawk-like gaze followed your line of sight in the glass reflection, and the moment she spotted Jake, she rolled her eyes dramatically and laughed.

“Ohhh, now I get it. Of course, you stopped, your favorite nerd is right there.”

She slapped a hand over her face in mock despair, as if she could already predict your next move.

“Do you want to go say hi?” You pouted, reluctant to admit it, but then nodded with a small, almost childlike smile.

Rosé snickered. “Fine, go. I’ll take the others to the bar. Meet us in ten minutes. I’m serious, don’t take forever. We’re here to dance.”

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Ten minutes, huh? …If you’d rather spend your night with your tutor, don’t worry about us.”

Turning on her heel, she started to cross the street but not before yelling back with that teasing tone that always made your cheeks burn,

“Text me if you’re skipping the club! It’s fine if you’d rather hang with your nerd than flirt with some super hot guy tonight!”

The girls burst out laughing, and without thinking, you flipped her the middle finger. Rosé pretended to grab it out of the air, laughing even harder, and you huffed but with a smile tugging at your lips. Still, your heart was beating faster than usual. You weren’t sure Jake would be happy to see you there, in his comfort zone far from books, notes, and the library table that defined your usual meetings. This was his world, his safe place, and maybe he didn’t want it interrupted by you.

But then you shrugged to yourself, muttering under your breath:

“Who cares if he doesn’t like it? Worst case, I’ll just catch up with the girls at the club. It’s not the end of the world. I’ll just say hi-like he’s… a friend.”

With that thought, you pushed open the arcade door. A wave of sweet, greasy scents hit you immediately fried corndogs, cotton candy, fizzy sodas. You wrinkled your nose slightly, pulling your blazer tighter around yourself, and let your eyes roam across the flashing machines: couples huddled close on virtual motorbikes, boys shouting at each other over fighting games, and then… that scene.

A guy stood behind his girlfriend at the basketball game, guiding her hands as they tried for the prize. The machine blasted a triumphant victory sound, the girl squealed with laughter and hugged the stuffed bear to her chest, looking at him as if he were the only person in the world. He kissed the tip of her nose and whispered something only they could hear.

A sharp pang hit you inside. Part of you found it ridiculous, corny, unnecessary, and disgustingly romantic but another part… wished you could be her. Because the truth was, you had never really been in love. The only love you had ever known came from your parents and a handful of close friends, like Rosé.

You shook your head quickly, as if to chase that thought away. The sharp click of your heels echoed on the tiled floor, drawing curious stares. A few groups of boys turned to whisper, some even smiling shyly when they realized you were walking straight into their world.

The first one to notice was Jay. His eyes widened, freezing in place as he tried to process that you were actually there.

“Wait...am I seeing things or is that really…” He nudged Jake, who was too focused on his game to care, tongue peeking out in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, hands gripping the controller tightly.

“Yah, what’s your problem? You just made me lose points!” Jake grumbled, not looking up but Jay kept pointing across the room.

“No, seriously. Look over there. You’re not gonna believe this.”

With an annoyed sigh, Jake finally turned his head—and his world stopped.

You.

In the flesh.

Walking straight toward them.

Jake couldn’t decide what was more surreal: the fact that you had willingly stepped into an arcade… or the fact that you were dressed in an outfit so wildly out of place for this dingy neon cave. His eyes swept over you, the short black dress with rhinestones catching the light, the oversized blazer that thankfully toned the look down a little, the boots that gave you a couple extra centimeters, and your hair falling silky and smooth over your shoulders.

His heart skipped and then raced. He swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the abandoned corndog and half-empty soda next to him.

You stopped in front of them with a bright smile.

“Hi, guys!”

A chorus of greetings followed Jay, Heeseung, Jungwon, even Sunghoon, who had just dropped his joystick to get a better look. They were all entertained, but mostly intrigued by the way Jake sat frozen, completely petrified by your presence.

Heeseung coughed into his fist, clearly holding back laughter, while you tilted your head toward Jake, amused.

“Hi, Jake. How are you?”

He pushed himself halfway up from his stool, running a hand through his too-thick hair—the move he always did when he felt uncomfortable.

“I’m… fine, I guess. But you? What are you doing here?” He gestured vaguely toward your outfit. “You don’t exactly look like you left the house planning to spend the night at an arcade.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing and pulled an exaggerated pout.

“Oh, so what you’re saying I can’t be here? That this is your nerd territory and I’m not welcome just because I’m dressed for a club instead of a hangout with friends?”

Jake’s eyes went wide, his hands shooting up defensively.

“N-no! That’s not what I meant! Just that… you look a little out of place here. Honestly, this is the last kind of place I’d have pictured you showing up.” Your smile widened, sensing his awkwardness.

“Out of place? Wrong, tutor. I can adapt anywhere—even a night in an arcade!” you teased, crossing your arms.

Jay nearly doubled over laughing, and Heeseung added with a smirk:

“Jake, I don’t know what’s funnier: the fact that she’s here or the fact that your face is turning bright red.” Jake shot him a glare, but it was useless his cheeks were already flushed. And you knew you had just won round one.

“So, what are you guys playing?” you asked, curiosity piqued as you stepped closer to the group surrounded by flashing joysticks and neon lights. Heeseung answered instantly, his voice lively as always:

“Some are on Roblox, like Jake others are on the pinball machines. Jungwon and I were trying out this basketball game.”

You nodded, and Jungwon looked up at you with that shy smile that lit up his whole face.

“Want to give it a try, noona? You can team up with me… against Heeseung.”

You laughed softly at the invitation, flattered, and nodded again though inside, you wished it had been Jake who asked you to play. Still, you kept your expression casual.

“Why not? Maybe I’ll be the one who helps you win.”

You moved toward the two boys, not realizing how Jake had stayed behind at his screen, jaw tight, running a nervous hand through his hair. He pretended to focus on his game, but the screen no longer made sense. His gaze kept flicking toward you at how you laughed, how you twirled strands of your hair while listening to Heeseung talk.

Behind him, Jay and Sunghoon exchanged looks like he’d lost his mind.

“Hey, are you stupid?” Jay muttered, elbowing him. “If there was a girl I liked, I wouldn’t just sit here and let her go have fun with two of my friends right in front of me.”

Sunghoon nodded in agreement. “Surprisingly, I’ve got to agree with Jay on this one. You’re losing points, bro.”

Jake scoffed and shrugged as if he didn’t care, but when he turned again and saw your smile, the way you lit up as Heeseung effortlessly sank every ball into the hoop, his chest tightened. Jungwon was trying his best but couldn’t keep up with his hyung, and Jake bit the inside of his cheek.

Heeseung wasn’t just good at basketball; he was the captain of the university team, the golden boy every girl tried to catch the attention of. And you… You looked like you were enjoying his perfect-boy charm a little too much.

Jake stood abruptly, leaving his drink on the table, and with steady, deliberate steps, walked toward the basketball game. He stopped right beside you.

When you turned to him, surprised, he leaned down slightly, his voice low and shy near your ear.

“If you came here for me… do you want me to show you my favorite game?” His sudden question and even more, his nearness caught you off guard. For a second, you just looked at him, noticing the blush on his cheeks, the way he couldn’t hold your gaze for more than two seconds. And you found yourself smiling.

“Hmm… I’d say yes. I’m curious to see what kind of game a nerd like you enjoys.” Jake bit his lip, trying to hide his nerves, and before he could think twice, he slipped his large, veined hand into yours.

A jolt of electricity shot through you both as your fingers intertwined, fitting together as if they were meant to stay that way forever. Without thinking, you squeezed his hand tighter. He glanced down, almost disbelieving that you were really there, this close, that he’d dared to touch you at all.

Then, without a word, he turned and started walking through the rows of flashing machines, pinball lights, and the sugary smell of caramelized candy—leading you along with him.

You let him guide you, amused.

“So… what’s this secret game? Don’t tell me you’re unbeatable at Pac-Man.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head, still looking half in awe that you were strolling through the arcade hand in hand with him.

“No. There’s a PC at the back of the hall if you win, they give you a free drink and even a little plushie. You know, the kind of things people clip onto their bags or backpacks. They’re pretty popular lately.” You burst out laughing, squeezing his hand with more energy, delighted by how comfortable he was in this world of his.

“Oh, so that’s your move? Offering a drink and a stuffed toy to girls? Cute.”

Jake shrugged, trying to look nonchalant even though inside he was a complete mess.

“Think of it however you want… starlet.”

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening at that strange yet oddly childish nickname.

“Wait a second. Did you just say starlet?”

He looked at you seriously and nodded, walking toward his station.

“Yeah. You can’t always call me nerd without me giving you a nickname too… so starlet it is.”

You brought a hand dramatically to your forehead. Normal guys used nicknames like baby, sweetheart, love, honey but starlet?

“Seriously, Jake? Starlet? You couldn’t come up with anything better?”

He smiled faintly, and for the first time in minutes dared to look you straight in the eyes.

“No. Because it fits you. You light things up, even in here, where everything’s already full of neon and noise… every time you walk into a place, you shine with your presence. And in case you didn’t know stars sparkle a lot.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, more affected than you wanted to admit. Finally, you arched a brow, trying to lighten the suddenly intense atmosphere.

“Wow. A poet now, too? Careful, nerd...I might almost take you seriously.”

Jake chuckled softly, lowering his gaze, though he didn’t let go of your hand. Together you reached a row of PCs, where the flashing screen displayed the title Counter-Strike, a shooting game you’d never even heard of.

“This is really your favorite game?” you asked, tilting your head. Jake nodded calmly, as if completely in control.

“Nothing too complicated. Just shoot, survive, and win.”

On the table lay massive headphones, though you noticed most of the guys around weren’t using them. Jake slipped a small ticket into a machine, which spat out a pair of plastic cuffs attached to a sensor. You blinked in surprise.

He laughed. “They’re for tournament mode. Basically, if I lose, it locks me for a few seconds. Adds some tension to the game.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking: Typical nerd move. Jake dropped into the chair, headphones resting around his neck, powering up the PC while you hovered uncertainly.

“And me? What am I supposed to do? Just stand here and watch?” you asked, folding your arms over your blazer.

Jake glanced around. All the PCs nearby were taken. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, then said with shocking nonchalance something you’d never expected from him:

“You could… sit on my lap. I don’t mind.” You froze instantly, staring at him.

“Excuse me? Are you serious?” Jake shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Doesn’t bother me. That way you can see the screen too unless you’d rather stand. Or watch from a distance.”

You bit your lip. Part of you wanted to say no, to play it cool. But another part of you… I was curious how far he would go. With a deliberately theatrical gesture, you tugged your dress a little lower as if adjusting it, your eyes locking with his. Jake didn’t even try to look away.

“What if I sit sideways? Or backwards?” you teased, one brow raised.

Jake shot you a sidelong glance, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Whichever way you want. Works for me.”

The way he emphasized that word made your cheeks burn. In the end, you gave in and settled normally on his lap. You felt the warmth of his body through his jeans, and his thighs tensed slightly beneath you as if to hold you more securely. His arms moved around your frame not to embrace you, but to grip the joystick. Still, the closeness was enough to make you stiffen.

His head dipped lower, his calm, husky voice brushing against your ear.

“You can lean back against me. No need to sit so stiffly you’ll see the screen better.”

You swallowed hard, shifting slightly until your back rested against his chest. He was solid, warm, and his breath tickled your hair. Just as you were about to relax, Jake set the joystick down and, without hesitation, wrapped his hands around your waist, sliding them naturally toward your stomach, pulling you fully against him.

“That’s better. And try not to be so tense, starlet.”

In the dark reflection of the PC screen, he saw the red blooming across your cheeks. He laughed softly, never having imagined himself in a situation like this with you.

“Now you know how I feel every time you sit next to me in the library.”

A shiver ran through you at his whisper. You twisted halfway toward him, caught between amusement and annoyance.

“I’m not tense, Jake.” He arched a brow with playful irony. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

To prove his point, he pulled you even closer until his arms wrapped around you like a cage. A half-sigh escaped your lips, which you quickly tried to disguise as a scoff.

“You’re getting cocky, Sim. What happened to shy Jake the one who blushed whenever I got too close?”

Jake chuckled, and from the sound of his breathing, you could tell he was smiling.

“Maybe… he’s gone. Or maybe you’re the one who made him disappear.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you thought, Damn it. Who are you, and what have you done with my nerd?

The PC lit up, the screen flashing with vivid colors, and Jake casually started adjusting the settings. His fingertips danced across the keyboard fast, precise, almost graceful. You frowned when you saw him loading up on a full arsenal of smoke grenades, a couple of golden weapons, and a glowing skin that looked like it had stepped out of a fantasy movie.

“Wait… did you actually spend real money on that stuff?” you shot him a glare, tilting your head. Jake raised an eyebrow, wearing that , yeah, so what? Expression.

“No, starlet. These are rewards you only get once you reach pro level… not for sale.” You rolled your eyes.

“Wow. So you’re basically a premium loser.” He burst into laughter, the low sound vibrating right through you.

“Is that a new nickname or just a fact?” You bit your lip, amused by this playful version of Jake.

“For me, nerd and loser mean the same thing, Sim.”

Jake clicked his tongue against his palate, then leaned down, his hair brushing your cheek as he whispered in that husky tone you barely recognized as his:

“A loser would never have a girl like you sitting on his lap, Y/n… oh wait, I mean...starlet.” Your throat went dry, your mouth opening to fire back, but no words came. Since when had he learned to use that tone?

You didn’t have time to react, because the screen shifted an entire battlefield came to life before your eyes: ruined buildings, fire and smoke rising from burning vehicles, chaos exploding from every corner with bullets flying and enemies lurking.

Jake’s hands gripped the joystick, moving with a confidence and fluidity that left you breathless. His voice was calm as he explained:

“See, this is the radar. It shows where shots are coming from, and the map’s divided into hot zones here, here…”

You nodded, but it was all an act. You weren’t listening. Your gaze was locked on his hands large, veined, strong. The way his fingers shifted over buttons and levers with such control made you imagine… other uses for them. Every time he failed to spot an enemy, his lips pursed into a small, unconscious pout, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to bite that frustration right off his mouth until it turned into something else entirely.

And meanwhile, his body molded perfectly against yours: his right leg raised slightly to support you better, his arms braced at your waist as if holding you without even realizing it and you definitely felt it. God, you felt it. One wrong move and you’d know exactly how much. You cursed silently:

Don’t think about it, Y/n. Not now. Not here. Not with half the arcade watching.

Then suddenly, a massive WINNER flashed across the screen.

“Wait… you won?” you gaped at him. “But those guys have been here for an hour and didn’t even clear the first level!”

Jake shrugged, like it was nothing.

“You said it yourself—I’m a loser. I spend my nights playing games with ramen or corndogs. But…” He paused, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “…maybe I’m starting to discover I like other things too.”

You spun toward him, narrowing your eyes before jabbing him with your elbow.

“Like what?”

The smile spreading across his face was dangerous, especially because his hands still hadn’t moved from your waist. You felt them too well. The thought cut through you like lightning: If he can hold me like this without even trying… what would those hands do if he really touched me?

You were nearly lost in the thought, drowning in his stare, when a group of guys came over to congratulate him. The spell broke. You scrambled to your feet, trying to compose yourself. Jake stood right after you, hiding his own tension, while you crossed your arms.

“Alright, champ… but now I want my prize.” Jake tilted his head, almost disbelieving you’d actually want a silly plushie he’d won.

“The plush?”

“Obviously. I’m not going home empty-handed. You said if you won, you’d get one. So now, let’s pick.”

He laughed, his eyes lighting up, and the two of you walked over to the prize counter. A wall of colorful plushies stretched out before you pandas, bunnies, robots. But your gaze landed instantly on a small white star, with two black eyes and a stitched smile.

“That one.” You pointed, and Jake nodded, retrieving it and handing it to you.

You studied it for a second, then reached for your bag. You thought about clipping it on as a keychain right away, but froze. What if he snatched it just to tease me? Better to keep it hidden. Still, from that moment on, you knew it would always stay with you. You slipped it into your bag slowly, a secret smile tugging at your lips.

That week, every study room in the library was packed, so Jake said he didn’t mind studying at a café or in one of your rooms. You knew you’d get distracted at a café, so you told him his place would be perfect. He gave you his address, it was barely ten minutes from your building and the moment you closed the door behind you, Jake’s familiar scent hit you.

It was the same one that clung to you whenever you were close to him: clean laundry with a soft, sweet undertone, like cracked vanilla. You glanced around with the curiosity of someone stepping into another person’s comfort zone for the first time.

His room had a huge light-gray double bed, blankets, and pillows scattered across it like an open invitation to collapse.On the shelves sat a handful of CDs and vinyls, some popular, some not, and an endless collection of Marvel Lego sets and Funko Pops that made you stifle a laugh.

“Oh my God, if someone had asked me to imagine your room, it would’ve looked exactly like this. You’re seriously first-class nerd material.”

You turned to him just as he was setting his notes down on the desk. Jake chuckled without lifting his head.

“Didn’t know I took up so much space in your thoughts, starlet.”

You huffed, crossing your arms.

“You’re not in my thoughts. Don’t flatter yourself.”

A blatant lie, and you knew it. He was—constantly. But you’d never admit that. Jake finally looked up, tilting his head at your quick reply, amused… and noticing you couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“So you’re saying my room is nerdy?”

You turned back toward the desk: MacBook, giant PC with glowing LEDs, gaming headsets, consoles, joysticks. It looked like the control room of a spaceship.

“Absolutely.”

He leaned back in his chair, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

“I wouldn’t call it nerdy… I’d say it reflects who I am, what I like. And I bet your room is full of sketchbooks with clothing designs, makeup, and skincare laid out, little figurines and souvenirs from your trips, and Polaroids all over the walls.”

You froze for a second, surprised at how accurate he was. But you just shrugged.

“Who knows. Maybe one day you’ll get the chance to find out.”

The line came out with deliberate mischief, your voice lower than usual. You bit the corner of your lip as you shot him a playful glance. Jake was drinking from his water bottle, and he nearly choked.

“W–What?”

You burst out laughing, leaning forward slightly.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you actually blushed!”

And he had—his cheeks were burning crimson, though he tried desperately to act indifferent. He ran a hand through his thick hair, avoiding your eyes.

If this keeps up, this girl’s going to kill me, Jake thought, watching you settle into his personal space like you belonged there.

“It’s time to study and practice, not to make fun of me,” he muttered, trying to pull himself back together.

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a sly smile on your lips.

“Hey, I wasn’t making fun of you. Promise, captain.” You even gave him a little mock salute before sitting down beside him at the desk.

Your knee brushed his on purpose and you noticed Jake’s cheeks still faintly pink. He’s so handsome… and even more when he gets flustered, you thought, biting back a grin.

Jake, on his end, shot you a sidelong glance, letting out a quiet sigh. This girl is trouble. She’s going to drive me insane, he muttered in his head.

Jake had spent a good half hour going over the fundamental formulas of Math 1 with you: limits, derivatives, integrals, matrices, and linear systems. He had calmly explained all the rules, showed you how to transform a complicated function into something simpler with the right steps, and even demonstrated how to use Cramer’s rule to solve a system. For the first time since your lessons had begun, you were completely attentive. Every time he wrote with his precise handwriting in his notebook, you followed with your eyes and were even surprised to find yourself taking notes on your own.

When he finally showed you a mock exam he had prepared, you stared at him, resigned.

“Jake, if you give me this exact problem on the exam… I’m doomed.”

He smirked, letting the pen drop on the table.

“Exactly. That’s why now it’s your turn… to do it alone, like a diligent student.”

You widened your eyes, almost theatrically standing from your chair.

“What?! Alone?! I’ll never manage it!” You crossed your arms and pouted. Jake crossed his arms in return, mimicking you, looking down at you with that disarming calm that always made you nervous.

“Don’t act like a child. You know you’ve made huge progress, and it’s you who will be taking the exam, not me. So stop looking for excuses.”

You huffed loudly, pointing the pen at him, and he looked at you, amused.

“I knew it! It’s all an excuse, right? You just brought me here to play teacher with me. You enjoy it, huh? With your student sitting in your nerdy little room…”

Jake laughed, tilting his head and running a hand through his hair. Then, lowering his voice, he whispered:

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

You froze, eyes wide, because it was the first time Jake had said something like that. You looked at him, slightly shocked.

“…Excuse me? What?!” He shrugged, feigning innocence.

“I just told the truth.”

“No, no, no!” You immediately pointed at his chest with your finger. “That doesn’t work on me, Jake. You can’t distract me with sweet lines!”

Jake laughed again, raising his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. But now focus. I’ll set the timer, and you’ll have an hour—like the exam—to complete the first part.”

“An hour…” you muttered under your breath. “An hour of torture, you mean.”

“At least one of the exercises you’ll do well, I’m sure of it,” he said casually, and you fixed him with a skeptical look before shooting him a sharp glare.

“And what will you be doing while I strain my brain?”

“Me?” Jake lifted his laptop like a trophy. “I’ll lie on the bed and read a few articles. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. It’ll be just like an exam.”

You looked at him incredulously as he settled onto his big bed, legs stretched out, laptop resting in front of him. Then he gave you an “OK” with his fingers, like to say, Go ahead, starlet.

You huffed again but bent over the exercises, pen in hand.

“We’ll see who laughs last, nerd,” you muttered, starting to read the instructions.

Jake couldn’t hide the small smile spreading across his face as he watched you bent over the pages, focused in a way he rarely saw.

From his perspective, pretending to scroll through his laptop, he thought:

If I could stop time, I’d do it now. Just her and me, here, in my room. It’s crazy how much she’s getting under my skin—every day it feels like I need her presence in my life, which didn’t exist a few months ago. But I’m afraid she’s only playing a game, using me to pass exams… and nothing more. But I can’t pretend anymore, because she’s not just a “task” to me… she’s the one breaking all my certainties, and I don’t know if I’m ready to handle this.

He stole another glance at you, biting the inside of his cheek as he saw you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, frustrated by a problem, and chuckled softly to himself.

Jake had spent a good half hour reading an academic article with a look of exaggerated focus when he finally allowed himself a break. Lifting his gaze from the keyboard, he saw you there, bent over your notebook, scribbling formulas and pressing the calculator keys with fierce concentration.

A faint smile escaped him: You—the girl who, on the very first day, had admitted you’d never passed math—now here you were, stubbornly trying again and again.

Damn, Y/n… you’re much more determined than I thought.

His eyes drifted down, landing on his favorite manga lying openly next to his pillow. He shrugged.

Well, half an hour of study for her, half an hour of reading for me.

He picked it up and slipped on his thin-rimmed glasses—the ones he hated, because they made him feel like a double nerd—and began flipping through the pages. The title stood out on the cover: “Horimiya.”

It had always been his comfort manga. The story of a popular girl who discovers the hidden side of a nerdy, quiet classmate oversized hoodies, messy hair, piercings—and little by little, she falls in love with him.

Jake read a few chapters, devouring the dialogue and admiring the art, until he came to a scene that made him swallow hard: the female lead, upset, wearing a cardigan and a skirt slightly too short, tried to storm off, but the boy who looked alarmingly like himself (baggy hoodie, messy hair, rings on his fingers)—grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his chest, holding her there.

Jake bit his lip as he read the bubble:

“Don’t go. I… I can’t let you leave.”

The next panel opened into a kiss: she rose onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a sudden, desperate impulse. Jake’s eyes widened.

What the hell… I didn’t think they kissed this early!

Just then, two fingers landed firmly on the page in front of him, and Jake nearly jumped out of his skin, snapping the manga shut like he’d been caught doing something forbidden.

“What are you reading?” you asked in a sing-song voice, raising your brows with a curious smirk.

Jake froze, then quickly set the manga on the bed.

“N-nothing,” he muttered awkwardly.

“Nothing?” You tilted your head, arms crossed, before snatching the book before he could shove it away.

“Ah-ah, let’s see…” You teased, curiosity piqued. Reading the title, you nearly burst into laughter.

“Wait. This is… a manga about a popular girl who falls for a nerd? Seriously, Jake? Are you kidding me?!”

Jake coughed, running a hand through his hair.

“Did you… Finish your exercises?”

You raised a brow.

“Never answer a question with another question, nerd.”

Flipping it open exactly where he’d left off, your heads dipped down together over the page—the kiss panel. Drawn with soft lines, the boy holding her tight, the girl clinging to him with lovestruck eyes. Below them, captions read:

Her: Why is my heart beating so fast? He’s just a nerd…

Him: If only she knew how crazy she makes me…

You chuckled, though your cheeks were heating, and when you turned toward Jake, you noticed his face was just as red, almost to his ears. With a sly tone, you whispered:

“Well, well… nerd Jake reading about gorgeous girls kissing their nerdy-but-charming crushes. So tell me… are there only these scenes, or maybe some spicier ones too?”

Jake’s eyes flew open as if you’d shot him.

“W-what?! Are you insane?!”

You laughed as he snatched the manga from your hands, carefully but frantically, and shoved it back into the cabinet between other volumes. You noticed he still didn’t turn around his broad shoulders tense, almost afraid of your gaze. And you were staring, silently, at his back.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you breathed out his name softly. Jake shook his head, still facing away.

“Maybe… it’s better if you go. I’ll check your exercises and send them to you later.”

Those words stung, piercing your chest. Why couldn’t he, just once, admit what he felt? It was obvious a mile away that he liked you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, torn between leaving or confronting him. In the end, your feet moved on their own. Slowly, you stepped forward until you were just behind him. Gently, you laid your hand on his warm wrist, stopping him. Jake tensed, but you softly turned him around. His messy hair fell over his forehead, and those hated glasses gave him an irresistible look: nerdy yet commanding, sexy in a way he couldn’t see himself.

His dark, deep eyes locked onto yours, his breath uneven, as if he were terrified of giving in. You smiled sweetly, rising slightly on your toes, whispering:

“Stop hiding from me, Jake. You’re everything a girl could want in her life…” you said, brushing his cheek tenderly.

Jake rolled his eyes skyward in a desperate attempt to fight off the embarrassment.

“Stop teasing me, starlet.”

“I’m not teasing. It’s the truth.”

And before he could protest, you leaned further up on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

For a moment, the world stopped. Jake’s eyes widened, frozen in place.

This can’t be real… she’s not actually kissing me.

Your lips still pressed softly against his, you thought:

Come on, Jake… I made the first move. Play along with me.

And it was as if he’d read your mind. A strong hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and finally, his lips began to move on yours. The kiss started slowly, tentative, exploratory. But within seconds, it deepened, turning into a game of lips seeking, brushing, and lightly biting before melting back together.

You sighed, and he let out a soft groan at the sensation of your warm lips kissing him not passively, but with a tenderness he never expected. Jake thought, If I died right now, I’d be happy. I’ve dreamed of this moment for weeks, and now she’s here… I’m actually kissing her.

You, on the other hand, were in bliss. His lips… they’re perfect. Made to be kissed. Made to be mine, and no one else’s.

Your hands rose to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his long, soft hair. You tugged lightly, and a strangled sound escaped him:

“Ah—”

You smiled against his mouth, thrilled at the effect you had on this nerd who always seemed so controlled—yet with you, he lost his composure completely. You were opposites, worlds apart, and still destiny had pushed you together. And now your lips felt like they had only ever been meant for each other.

His hands dropped to your hips, gripping you firmly. You parted your mouth slightly, letting your tongue graze across his lips, and he shuddered. With teasing intent, you sucked gently on his lower lip, and a warm moan slipped from you as you whispered:

“Mmh… Jake…”

The sound made him tremble. He answered with a kiss that was deeper, hungrier, and desperate, like he feared losing you at any second.

Minutes blurred by in that endless kiss, until finally, he was the one who pulled back, gasping for air. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, his hair was a tousled mess, and his lips were red and swollen.

You stared at him, heart pounding wildly, before breaking into a grin.

“You’re doomed… all this just from a kiss, Jake Sim.”

Jake dropped his gaze, still breathless, while you chuckled and bit your lip.

“Congrats, nerd… that was amazing. I can safely say you earned yourself a solid 10 in kissing!”

Ever since that kiss, something had shifted between you and Jake. He wasn’t the same boy who used to shower you with quiet attention and timid smiles. Instead, he had grown distant, cold almost. Whenever you tried to ask him about something outside of schoolwork, he dodged the subject. The study sessions that used to be just the two of you? Gone. He always found a way to include the rest of the group.

His friends were nice, funny, and warm, making it easy to be around them. But what you craved was solitude with him. You wanted the silence, the lingering glances, even the awkwardness that had always been part of your moments together. Now, it felt like he was afraid of being alone with you—like if he was, he wouldn’t know how to act anymore.

One afternoon, after class, you gathered every ounce of courage and asked:

“What do you say we go grab a hot chocolate together?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, gaze dropping to the floor. His answer came quickly, almost too quickly:

“Uh… I can’t. I promised my mom I’d call her… family stuff, you know.”

You nodded, pretending to understand, but later that evening, when you walked into the cafeteria, there he was, sitting with Sunghoon and Jay, laughing loudly.

You walked over with your tray in hand, ready to sit next to him. For a split second, his eyes caught yours… but instead of making space, he gave his friends a quick signal. Within moments, Jake was on his feet, muttering something about a study seminar, leaving you there with Jay and Sunghoon.

You forced a small smile, lowering your gaze as you slid into the empty seat. His friends were welcoming, funny fareasier to deal with than Jake had been lately. But they weren’t him. Not the version of him you missed.

I don’t get it… Did he not like the kiss? Does he not like me? Or is he just too much of an idiot to realize that to me, he’s not just a tutor or a friend? You thought bitterly, watching him disappear out the cafeteria doors.

The following week, you fell sick, nothing serious just a low fever, exhaustion, and a bad cold. And yet, he was the first person you texted.

Jake video-called you without hesitation. His face appeared on the screen, brows knitted in worry, and his voice was soft, almost tender:

“Did you take your medicine? Are you keeping warm? Drinking enough water? Do you want me to bring you some chicken soup?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his questions. During the exercises, he felt like the Jake you knew again: kind, attentive, sneaking in jokes here and there, reminding you every fifteen minutes to drink something to stay hydrated.

When the session was over, you thought he’d end the call. But instead, he stayed. You ended up eating dinner together, each with your own plate in front of the screen.

Later, when you finally dozed off, sick and exhausted, the last thing you saw was Jake’s face, watching you with a small, almost secret smile. His voice was a whisper, warm and steady, before everything faded to black:

“Goodnight, Starlet.”

That afternoon, with your nose still a little red, you texted Jake saying you didn’t feel like going out. Snow was falling, the air outside was biting cold, and you didn’t want to risk getting sick again with exams getting closer.

You expected a dry “okay” that he wouldn’t come see you.

But instead, Jake replied casually:

“Then I’ll come to you. Be patient, I’m on my way.”

When the knock came at your door, your heart jumped into your throat.

You opened it and there he was bundled in a jacket, a beanie, jeans still carrying the chill of the snow. When he took it off, the simple sweater that hugged his chest caught your eye. It fit him perfectly. He smiled at you, that smile you hadn’t seen in days, the one you had missed too much.

You, on the other hand, were in full “home mode”: an oversized cardigan slipping slightly off your bare shoulder and basic pajama pants. No makeup, no polished look. Yet, it didn’t seem to matter to him. In fact, Jake liked this real version of you even more.

From a paper bag, he pulled out a steaming hot chocolate and a muffin.

“I stopped by the café downstairs. Couldn’t just show up empty-handed,” he said with a shy grin.

“Thanks, Jake,” you smiled.

While you ate, you watched him wander around your room, curious about every detail: the white walls touched with blue and pink, the mannequin with pins and scattered sketches, your desk cluttered with books and notes, the vanity table lined with skincare and makeup, the shelves stacked with CDs and romance novels, and your bed with its white blanket patterned with little blue hearts.

“It’s… exactly how I imagined it,” Jake murmured, turning toward you with a half-smile.

You laughed, biting into the muffin.

“We know each other by heart already, don’t we?”

His gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, eyes softening. But then he quickly cleared his throat, turning back to your desk, almost afraid of what might happen if he let himself stay lost in that look. He sat down, pulled out some practice sheets you’d worked on together, and with a gentle tone, explained:

“Since you haven’t been feeling well, I don’t want to tire you out. I had an idea, tell me what you think: we’llreview a couple of formulas, then I’ll do some exercises… but I’ll purposely make mistakes. Your job is to catch them and explain where I went wrong. Then I’ll redo it exactly the way you tell me, even if it’s completely wrong.”

You tilted your head, intrigued, nibbling at your muffin as a smile tugged at your lips.

“I actually like that idea. At least I won’t feel pressured to get everything perfect right away.”

Jake shrugged, smiling playfully.

“Perfect. Then get ready, Starlet.”

You set your hot chocolate and muffin next to your phone and leaned in, ready to follow his explanation. But your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing over and over, insistent. Jake glanced sideways at you, brows furrowed, and muttered:

“Do you remember what I told you the first time we met?”

You rolled your eyes with a small laugh.

“Yeah, yeah… phones off, focus only on math.”

“And?” he pressed, tone unusually firm, his gaze fixed on the phone still buzzing.

You sighed.

“Fine, fine. I’ll put it on silent.”

But when you picked it up, the screen lit up with a name: Yuki.

Jake read it aloud slowly:

“Yu-ki?”

“He’s… a guy from the archery team,” you explained quickly, avoiding his eyes and chewing on your lip.

“Want to answer?” His tone was neutral, but the tension underneath was obvious.

You nodded and answered, lowering the volume, but Jake seemed to develop super-hearing in that instant. He sat there, jaw tight, eyes locked on your phone as if trying to catch every word.

“Hi, Y/n. How are you?” Yuki’s voice was warm through the speaker.

“A bit sick… still tired,” you answered softly.

“Take care of yourself, drink tea with honey, stay warm. Try not to go out—it’s freezing and snowing pretty hard,”he advised kindly.

Jake raked a restless hand through his hair, pulling at it as though he could tear the tension away. But then, his ears caught the sentence he never wanted to hear—from anyone but himself.

“Actually… I also wanted to ask you something. When you’re better… would you like to go out with me?”

Your eyes widened. You coughed awkwardly, glancing instinctively toward Jake. He was staring at the phone like he could crush it, lips pressed into a hard line, his gaze darting between you and the screen.

Before you could respond, Jake acted on pure impulse. He snatched the phone from your hands, and for the first time, something primal almost alpha—flashed in him. He spoke into the receiver, voice low but sharp:

“Hi, Yuki. I don’t know who you are, but Y/n is taken. When she’s better, she won’t be going out with you… because she already has a date. With me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at him, mouth open, stunned into silence. Before you could react, Jake pressed the red button and slammed the phone face down on the desk.

The room fell into deafening silence. Only the muffled sounds of snow outside, cars passing slowly, and children laughing in the distance filled the air. You sneaked a glance at him—his lips bitten raw, his hair twisted between nervous fingers, his breath unsteady.

“Jake…” you whispered, and he shut his eyes for a second, trying to calm himself.

What the hell am I doing? Why did I lose it like that? Why does the thought of someone else asking her out drive me insane? I can’t even stand the idea… because she’s mine. Mine, and no one else’s. There’s no way she’s going on a date with anyone but me.

“Are you… Jealous?” you asked softly, a knowing smile tugging at your lips.

His head snapped toward you, eyes blazing with an intensity you’d never seen before.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n. You’re not the center of my world.” His voice was harsher than he intended.

You giggled, shaking your head.

“Sure, sure. Then what was that jealous boyfriend act on the phone, huh? Not my fault, archers have better aim with their words—and the courage to actually ask me out.”

“Y/n!” he snapped, cheeks flushing red.

You stood, stepped closer, and grabbed his restless hands, pulling him up from the chair. He resisted, muttering through clenched teeth:

“We need to study.”

“To hell with studying,” you whispered, locking your eyes on his. Before he could say another word, you leaned in and kissed him.

Your lips on his swept away every resistance, every rule, every mathematical formula, and for a moment, Jake froze, surprised. Then his hands tightened around your hips and he returned the kiss with an urgency he could no longer hold back because ever since you had kissed him in his room, every night he dreamed of feeling your lips again, of hearing your little moans and trembling breaths, and he would have done anything to make you see and choose that he was the boy for you.

Your mouths searched for each other with a new urgency, completely different from the shy first kiss in his room. His hands gripped your hips as if to anchor you to him, while your arms wrapped around his head, pulling him closer because you were desperate to feel him against you, to make him understand that he was the only one you wanted, the only one who made you feel things you never thought you would feel with someone.

Your lips didn’t just brush they played, they discovered. Your tongue grazed his lips and slid softly into his mouth, and Jake let out a low, strangled moan that made you smile against him. He surrendered to that game, his tongue meeting yours—tentative at first, because you feared he might reject you after how he had behaved in recent weeks, but then growing bolder with every movement. Each touch became an invitation, a reply, a small step forward in discovering one another.

Time seemed suspended, a limbo made only of broken breaths, wet lips, tongues intertwined, dancing in a slow but deep rhythm. Jake sighed at how close you were, as if every barrier had finally collapsed and both of you understood there was no fighting it; you had been magnets pulling at each other for months.

You pulled back just enough, your breaths mixing, foreheads nearly touching.

“With glasses, you’re gorgeous…” you whispered with a mischievous smile. “But now I want to kiss you better.”

Without waiting for an answer, you slid the glasses off his face and set them on the nightstand. Then, with a gentle push, you guided him toward the bed. Jake let himself fall back against the padded headboard, a little dazed, but with his eyes fixed only on you. He parted his legs slightly, and you straddled him, your heart pounding wildly.

Jake’s hands rested hesitantly on your ass, as if afraid to cross some invisible line, but then almost unconsciously he pulled you closer. Your lips found his again, sucking softly on his bottom lip, while your fingers tangled in his dark strands, tugging lightly in an instinctive, teasing gesture. Jake groaned in embarrassment, feeling you shift against his length and tug at his hair in pleasure.

“Mmh… Y/n… if you do that, I’ll lose my mind…” he muttered, and you smiled against his lips, proud of the effect you had on him, before kissing him again. His warm, slightly calloused hands slipped under your sweater, tracing invisible circles on your skin. The contrast between his awkwardness and his intensity drove you crazy, so you broke away slightly and trailed kisses along his jaw, down to his neck.

“Don’t be afraid to touch me…” You whispered sweetly. “I’m not a crystal that could break.” You began sucking hungrily at his flushed skin, and Jake swallowed hard, nodding slightly. When you sucked harder, leaving a mark, a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Christ… Y/n…” he breathed, mouth parted, cheeks flushed, hair completely disheveled. He looked at you with eyes glazed with desire but also uncertainty.

“I… I don’t have much experience. I’m scared you’ll make fun of me, that you won’t like what I want to do to you,” he confessed quietly.

You smiled tenderly, kissed his neck again, and whispered firmly:

“You don’t have to worry about anything, Jake. With me, you can do whatever you want.”

He stared at you, uncertain, but you nodded reassuringly. His hands slid up your sides, hesitant but eager, until they brushed against the clasp of your bra.

“Can I…?” he asked, his voice low and timid.

You answered yes.

You heard the click as the fabric loosened. Jake took it off with an almost reverent gentleness, tossing it somewhere into the room without looking, biting his lip as his eyes flickered from your face to your body. He murmured in a husky voice against your earlobe:

“I want to make you feel good… let me show you how I could please you, Y/n. Please.”

You chuckled against his lips at that desperate “please,” which was both a plea for respect and for closeness. You nodded, and Jake’s hands grew firmer, finally believing in his own strength. He gently guided you down onto the bed, laying you between the white pillows, bracing himself on his forearms so his body hovered over yours. His warm lips began trailing down your neck, alternating soft kisses with light bites that made you shiver.

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, tugging, and a hot moan escaped your lips, broken and deep.

“Mnh… J-Jake… keep going like that…”

That sound overwhelmed him. He realized it was really him making you moan, giving you pleasure, and a fierce sense of possession filled his chest.

She’s mine, he thought. In this moment, she’s all mine and no one else’s.

His messy black locks tickled your skin, while Jake’s hand gripped your right breast more firmly, his fingers pinching your nipple and teasing it clumsily yet in a way that drove you wild. Every squeeze, every slightly awkward touch only made you moan harder, as if it was exactly that timid way of his that turned you insane with desire. His warm breath fanned across your chest as he began to place soft kisses on your breast, one after another, until his tongue finally found your swollen bud. At first, he licked shyly, then more boldly, and you arched your back, your hair spilling across the pillow.

“Mmh… Jake… yes… keep going…” You moaned, your voice breaking from pleasure, almost like a whispered command. Hearing your moans vibrate against him, he smiled proudly against your skin and didn’t waste time. He moved to your other breast, switching between soft kisses and sudden nips followed by slow, deep sucks on your tender nipple, and whispered: “Fuck… you’re so beautiful…”

he cursed under his breath, eyes drinking you in like you were his goddess, hair tousled on the pillow, your breasts bared, cheeks flushed, lips parted as you moaned.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips, pulling him closer, and both of you let out a moan at the same time as his hard, needy erection pressed against your core. The friction through your clothes made your breath catch, and a broken sigh slipped from your lips. Blushing, his gaze hazy, Jake lowered himself further, trailing delicate kisses across your belly, moving up and down with his mouth as if he were savoring the anticipation of going lower. You lifted yourself just enough to glance down at him. The mix of shyness and raw hunger burning in his eyes drove you insane. His large hands slid under your breasts to caress your sides, and in a husky voice, he asked: “Can I… take off your pants?” You nodded and whispered, “Yes… Take them off, Jake.”

With torturing slowness, he slid the soft fabric of your pajama bottoms down your legs. When your white-and-blue lace panties came into view, his eyes widened and his hand nervously raked through his hair, mussing it up even more. Noticing the damp patch of arousal already staining the fabric, a guttural whisper escaped his lips: “Christ, Y/n… you’re already this wet just for me?” You giggled, nodding, and his gaze darkened, jaw clenching as he fought for control but still, he couldn’t resist teasing. “Spread your legs a little for me, Y/n. I can’t wait to make you feel good… to hear you moan my name.” You obeyed slowly, eyes never leaving him, and what you saw stole your breath away: Jake, kneeling between your thighs, his large hands keeping them open as if he were about to discover a priceless treasure. He began leaving a trail of loving kisses and playful bites along the inside of your thighs, moving closer and closer to your panties. Each gentle nip made your body quiver, shivers forcing you to clutch at the sheets.

“Mnh… keep going…” You whispered, your voice broken. Jake chuckled, sinking his teeth lightly into your upper thigh as he sucked and licked at your skin, and the cry that escaped you was a mix of pleasure and surprise. Pulling back, he admired the red mark he’d left and murmured in his rough voice: “Tomorrow… forget about wearing those short skirts… the ones that drive me crazy ever since the day you first walked in, desperate for my attention.” You burst into laughter between moans, gently scolding him by tugging at his messy black locks. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” Jake lifted his gaze slightly, his lips dangerously close to your soaked lace, and shrugged with that awkward yet irresistible charm of his. His long fingers began toying with the edge of your panties, barely grazing your heated skin as he continued to kiss along your inner thigh. Looking up at you, his voice rough, he asked: “Can I… can I take them off?” You gave him a mischievous smile, eyes half-lidded. “Yes… I want you to.”

With almost reverent care, Jake slid the fabric slowly down your legs until he pulled it away completely. When your swollen, glistening folds came into view, he let out a strangled curse, dragging a hand through his dark hair and tugging it nervously, as if trying to hold himself back.

“Christ… you’re a masterpiece… I shouldn’t even be allowed to look at you like this, but I can’t stop.” His eyes locked on you, completely lost, and in a low, almost pleading voice, he asked: “Tell me… what do you like the most?” You laughed softly, biting your lip. “You can do whatever you want, Jake. Your job is to make me feel good… and in the end, I’ll give you a grade. Let’s see if you deserve it.” His eyes widened, jaw tightening no girl had ever told him that before. With a ragged sigh, he bent over you, and the moment you felt his hot breath against your core, a shiver coursed through your entire body.

His big hands gripped your hips firmly, pinning you down against the mattress. He lowered his head, his tongue hesitating for just a moment before giving you a slow lick across your clit. You arched immediately, a moan slipping out of your lips uncontrollably. “Ahhh… yes… just like that…” Seeing your reaction, Jake grew bolder, his awkwardness melting away into raw, hungry desire. He began to lick you with a slow, deep sucks alternating with precise circles, almost tracing an endless figure-eight around your clit. His fingers dug into your hips as though he wanted to fuse with you, and your trembling hands tangled in his hair, tugging helplessly.

“God… your taste…” he cursed under his breath between moans, eyes squeezing shut as if in bliss. “Fuck, I didn’t think… shit, I didn’t think I’d like it this much. You’re literally fucking me, Y/n.” He was going crazy from the way your moans broke against his mouth, and how you instinctively gripped his hair harder, like you had a fetish for holding him there. “Jake… harder… please…” You whimpered, your voice hoarse and breaking under the pleasure. He glanced up at you, his lips wet and shining with your taste, but said nothing. Instead, his hand slid from your hip down between your thighs, and his fingers began rubbing your clit fast and messy while his tongue kept alternating between licks and sucks. A strangled cry tore from your lips. Your body trembled violently under his mouth, under his fingers, pounding pleasure into you. Jake chuckled low, hearing how loudly you moaned for him, his mouth still glistening with you. He raised his gaze just slightly, voice rough and dark. “You know what I want right now? I want to put a finger inside you… Will you let me, Y/n?” Your trembling hand yanked at his hair harder, your head sinking into the pillow as you begged, voice shattered and shameless: “Please, Jake… do it… I need it so bad…”

His eyes widened at hearing you beg for him like that. A low laugh escaped him, disbelieving that you could plead for his touch this way. With almost reverent calm, he slid a finger inside you, slow and steady, pushing through your hot, tight folds. Your body spasmed, and you clutched his arm, nails dragging down his shoulder as a muffled moan ripped from your throat. Your thighs clenched around him instinctively as his finger stretched you open, deeper and deeper. Jake looked at you like he was spellbound, lost in the sight of you. When he curved his finger inside, you gasped, whispering brokenly: “It feels so good… Jake, don’t stop…” He had never felt so proud in his life, not even after passing one of those brutal statistics exams, but now… now you were his victory. He pulled his finger back almost all the way, then slid it back inside, pumping slowly but deliberately. Inside you, he curled his finger again, brushing spots that made you nearly scream, his eyes wide as if in awe of your beauty. “J–Jake… I’m… I’m gonna cum…” You moaned, your voice cracked, legs trembling with the spasms racing through them. He bent lower, mouth returning to your pussy. As his finger thrust and curled inside you, his tongue teased your clit again, fast, precise, filthy. You couldn’t resist anymore. Within seconds, a hot wave exploded inside you, your body convulsing, clenching hard around his finger and against his tongue. Your moans broke into near-screams as you came for him, shuddering violently. Jake groaned into you, cursing low, his breath rough and ragged. “Fuck… you came so hard… all for me. I… I didn’t think it could feel this good to make you come, Y/n.”

When Jake pushed himself up slightly, he caught sight of your chest rising and falling quickly, your breath uneven, your breasts lifting and dropping in a frantic rhythm. He froze for a moment, unable to believe that this vision was all for him. His eyes drifted over your flushed face, your lips swollen and still marked from his kisses, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned down again, pulling you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that started sweet and slow but quickly grew deeper. You felt his arousal press against you, and a moan slipped from your lips, swallowed immediately by his mouth.

Jake devoured you like you were his only source of oxygen, like he couldn’t stand even a second apart. Every time his lips left yours, they trailed down to nip at your chin, tug at your earlobe, before returning hungrily to your mouth. He looked at you like he adored every inch of you your dazed eyes, your trembling skin, the way you surrendered completely in his arms. For him, it was almost unreal: She’s here, with me. Not with anyone else. She’s letting me kiss her like this, hold her like she’s mine.

He eased you back down onto the bed, bracing his forearms on either side of your head, and kept kissing you as if starved, as if you were his favorite drug. Between kisses, lips brushing against yours, he asked in a low murmur:

“Tell me… what grade do I get?”

You giggled softly, sighing, and when you pulled back just enough to really look at him—his swollen, reddened lips, his flushed cheeks, his shining eyes, his messy hair falling across his perfect face—he looked like he’d stepped out of a forbidden dream and an innocent fantasy all at once. With a sly smile, you whispered:

“Nine.”

Jake immediately pouted, scrunching his nose in mock offense.

“Nine? Why not a perfect ten?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him closer until your lips brushed his again, whispering against his mouth:

“For a ten, you’ve got to show me you can do more than just make me come… You have to show me what it means to be completely yours.”

Jake’s eyes widened in disbelief, like your words had stolen the air from his lungs. He froze for a moment, studying your face, then dropped a trail of hot little kisses by your ear. His voice was rough when he asked:

“Do you really want me to be yours? To be everything for you?”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile, biting your lip before answering without hesitation:

“Yes. Sooner or later I’ll be all yours… and you’ll be mine.”

Jake shook his head stubbornly, his voice trembling with a serious edge.

“I don’t want this to be just a passing thing for you. I need to know this is real for you.”

You glanced around, searching for the right words. You’d never been the type of girl to get attached easily, to nurture deep relationships, or to give yourself without restraint. But with Jake, it was different. With him, you felt naked not just in body, but in soul—unjudged, unforced to play a role, unlabelled. He saw you, truly, and with every small gesture, it felt like he was merging with you. You were different, yes, but impossibly complementary.

Your hand caressed his cheek softly, his skin warm under your palm, and you whispered sincerely:

“I want to commit to you. Not just with math exercises… but like a real couple.”

You made air quotes with your fingers, laughing, and his face flushed before he laughed with you, pulling you into a crushing embrace. You were pinned under him, his weight pressing down, his head buried in your neck and shoulder as if he wanted to fold you into himself.

You laughed and teased:

“Jake, you’re heavy… and way too clingy for my taste.”

He chuckled low, kissing your neck gently in reply:

“Don’t complain… I know you like my attention.”

A soft, genuine laugh escaped you, your eyes shining with a sweetness you couldn’t hide.

The past few weeks with Jake had fallen into a rhythm of their own, almost like you already had a routine together, you just hadn’t realized yet that you were meant to be together. Separate classes in the morning, lunch always side by side (you, him, Rosé, and his friends), and the afternoons supposedly dedicated to “studying”… though in reality, it was more of a constant battle against distracting each other.

Once, in the library, he pulled you onto his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. At first, you huffed, sitting on his thighs while his arm draped casually around your waist, holding you firmly against him.

“Jake, I can’t focus if you hold me like this.”

He leaned back in the chair, one eyebrow raised, and tightened his grip just a little.

“Starlet, trust me, you’ll learn much better this way. And I can reward you for every right answer.”

And he kept his promise… Each time you nailed a concept about parabolas, his hand slid a little higher up your bare thigh, tracing lazy circles against your skin sometimes dangerously close to your panties. Other times, his lips brushed your cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose… always close to your mouth, but never quite there.

“And why not my lips?” you’d complain, pouting at him adorably a pout that drove him insane, fighting the urge to kiss you senseless right there in front of everyone. He’d chuckle softly, leaning in just enough to tease you, whispering in your ear:

“Because you have to earn.”

He’d smirk every time you sighed in frustration. And of course, at the end of each study session, you inevitably turned the tables, swinging a leg over his lap, straddling him, and kissing him deeply, not caring if it was in a corner of the library or a half-empty study hall.

“And this I earned!” you’d tease against his lips, while he laughed, trying to hide his face with one hand to avoid drawing too much attention, yet his other hands dug into your hips, pulling you closer like he couldn’t let you go.

Other times, you found yourselves walking along the Han River, hand in hand, and every few steps, you stopped Jake so he could take “aesthetic” pictures for Instagram: him holding your hand with the river in the background, a stolen kiss at sunset, your shadows intertwined on the pavement, oversized hoodies borrowed from each other. Girls had even started following your account just to copy your couple-photo ideas:

Pictures with hot chocolate mugs from a street stand, the sleeves of your hoodies hanging too long and covering your hands.

Overhead shots of your fingers laced together while walking, e-scooters parked next to you.

POV videos: you running ahead while Jake chased you, laughing, recording from his phone.

Selfies with both of your noses red from the cold, but with knowing smiles that gave you away.

When you stayed in his room, it became your little refuge. You’d lie down with a book in hand, while Jake rested his head on your stomach, playing on the PlayStation or some game on his phone. Every so often, he’d drop the controller just to grab your hand and squeeze it, and you had fun slipping your fingers through his hair, ruffling it until it fell into his eyes. He’d laugh like a kid, and sometimes he’d even doze off because the feeling of your gentle fingers in his hair was too relaxing.

“You’re my personal hairstylist?” he’d mumble with a drowsy voice, and you’d laugh because by then you’d taken a hundred pictures, ready to expose him to his friends.

“No, I’m your personal photographer,” you teased, shoving your phone in his face to show the dozens of shots you’d taken of him half-asleep mid-game.

“Y/n, delete those!” he groaned, shooting upright, trying to grab your phone.

“Not a chance. You look way too cute like this.”

And then there was soccer. Jake was slightly obsessed—collecting jerseys, watching matches, and of course, on the field, he became someone else: sharp, fast, confident, sometimes even cocky with the other players. You couldn’t help watching him differently every time. And at the end of a game, drenched in sweat, he always sprinted straight toward you, pulling you into a suffocating hug before you had a chance to dodge.

“Jake! You’re soaked, you’re disgusting, ugh, the smell!” you complained, scrunching up your nose, but he only laughed and hugged you tighter, knowing you secretly liked it.

“Don’t lie. You love it when I’m clingy,” he murmured into your neck.

You rolled your eyes, muttering, “You’re so clingy. In another life, you were definitely some kind of animal obsessed with cuddles… like a golden retriever puppy.”

But no matter how much you pretended to protest, you always ended up melting in his arms, his sweaty body pressed against yours, your fake resistance breaking down as his embrace tightened around you.

That evening was the night before the Mathematics1 exam, and Jake had given you your space, insisting that you shouldn’t panic. He had texted you in chat:

"Review only the main things, don’t overdo it, then take a break, watch a movie, do your skincare… just do what relaxes you, okay? Please, stay calm, everything will be fine! ❤️⭐️"

You had tried with all your strength to listen to him, but when you sat down at your desk with the pencil in your hand, you had chosen a simple exercise and… you had gotten it wrong. Once, twice, and by the third time, you didn’t even try anymore. Hot little tears rolled down your face, and that feeling of helplessness exploded in your chest. Your eyes were burning and, without even realizing it, you had started crying, your hands trembling, and you thought: I’ll never pass this exam…

Rosé was at the amusement park with a boy, and you didn’t want to flood her with desperate messages and ruin her evening. So you slipped on your glasses, an oversized sweater, your padded jacket, sweatpants, and your Uggs. Let’s just say you definitely weren’t looking your best: no makeup, no curated outfit, you didn’t even look like yourself.

Where had the bold, confident girl gone? The one who didn’t stop at anything?

Why am I so afraid of failing, of disappointing so many people, including myself?

With your headphones on, you walked through the streets of Seoul. Tiny snowflakes were falling onto your head, melting into your hair, and you stopped for a second, watching as the streets slowly turned white. A shy smile curved your lips, and you thought that maybe not every failed exam had been such a misfortune. Because if it hadn’t been for that failure, you would never have met Jake. And since he had come into your life, you felt… alive. And finally, truly loved by someone.

When you knocked on his door, he thought it was one of his friends: Heeseung, Jay, or Sunghoon. He opened without thinking, but froze when he saw you standing there, glasses fogged, cheeks red, eyes puffy and shiny, snowflakes still tangled in your hair. At first, he didn’t say a word. He just opened his arms, and you immediately sought refuge in them, burying your face against his chest. He lowered his head, brushing your forehead with his chin, and the two of you stayed like that for long minutes, silent, with only your uneven breaths and the steady beat of his heart filling the space.

“Hey, sweetheart… what are you doing here?” he finally murmured, his voice soft and full of love.

You shook your head, unable to answer, because you didn’t know what to say… You just wanted him.

Jake held you tighter, sliding a hand to the back of your neck, rocking you gently as if to tell you that you didn’t have to carry all that weight alone anymore. Then he bent down and pressed a slow kiss to your hair.

“Okay… you don’t need to say anything. You’re here, and that’s enough. Now, take off those shoes and come inside where it’s warm with me.”

He led you into the room. The warm glow of the bedside lamp lit up piles of books, scattered notes, and a half-empty coffee mug. He made you sit on his bed, wrapped a heavy blanket around you, and, without asking anything, went to the kitchen. He came back with two steaming mugs.

“Chamomile,” he said, handing you one. “Remember: before an exam, no caffeine, no stress ...just relaxation and good vibes.”

You looked at him, your trembling hands gripping the warmth of the porcelain. “Jake… I can’t do this.”

He sat beside you, cupping your chin between his fingers and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Yes, you can. Do you know why? Because you’ve worked hard. Because you’re not alone. And because I’ll be here forever if you’ll have me.”

Your voice and your heart broke at his words. “And… and if I fail tomorrow?” you whispered.

Jake smiled softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Then we’ll celebrate anyway. With ice cream, pizza, and a dumb movie. A grade won’t ever tell you how much you’re worth… not to me, Y/n.”

A knot in your throat kept you from answering. You just pressed closer to him, letting him kiss your temple and stroke your hair. Your eyes were still swollen from crying, but you managed a small smile. Jake gently tucked your slightly damp hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin, and that simple, loving gesture made your stomach tighten. You thought: this boy is slowly finding his way into my heart, day by day, without me even realizing it…

Lowering your gaze, you toyed with the fabric of his hoodie and asked in a timid voice: “Can I… sleep here tonight? If you don’t want me to, it’s fine, really…”

He stared at you for a moment, then a huge smile spread across his face. “Of course you can. You don’t even have to ask. In fact, any time you want, you can come here — to sleep, to watch a movie, a series, or just to talk.”

Jake stood up suddenly, heading to the wardrobe, and glanced at you over his shoulder. “Do you want to sleep in one of my hoodies or just a T-shirt?”

“Hoodie,” you answered without hesitation. His hoodies were all oversized, and they carried his scent — a scent that over the weeks had become so familiar to you that you wished you could bottle it up and keep it for yourself.

He chuckled softly and gestured for you to come closer. “Then you pick. I’ve got plenty of warm ones.”

You walked over and noticed the neatly folded stack of oversized hoodies, soft and warm. Your eyes scanned them one by one until they landed on a red Supreme hoodie. You grabbed it and slipped it on, it fell almost to mid-thigh, loose on the shoulders, but more comfortable than anything else. Jake watched you with a satisfied little grin, as if he already knew you would pick that one.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, taking your hand and guiding you back to sit on his bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and Jake propped himself up on one elbow beside you. “Do you want to put on a series or a movie?” he asked.

But you shook your head, almost shyly, and whispered: “No… I just want a hug.”

Jake let out a low laugh and teased you, sliding an arm behind your back and pulling you against him. “Ah, but where’s the girl who always complained whenever I smothered her with affection the one who said I was too clingy?”

“Maybe she got eaten by anxiety,” you giggled, messing up his hair. “Or maybe it’s just that… tonight I need to feel you closer.”

Jake didn’t say a word and lay down with you, but he didn’t just hug you; he almost draped himself entirely over you, his warm and reassuring weight keeping you grounded to the bed, to the present, far away from all the thoughts clouding your mind. His gaze lingered on you, eyes shining with tenderness, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really there sofragile and yet so strong at the same time.

Your fingers slid into his hair, tangling softly as you stroked it, and he let out a sigh against the curve of your neck, pressing a small, almost shy kiss to your skin.

“Sleep a little,” he whispered, voice low and husky. “Tomorrow will be fine… trust me.”

You nodded, unable to reply, and held him tighter. Your heart finally began to slow its frantic rhythm, and within ten minutes, sleep pulled you under wrapped in his scent, the warmth of his body, and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Jake stayed still for a moment, listening to the way your breathing had turned even and calm. He looked at you with a tenderness he had never felt for anyone before. Then he leaned down just enough to press the softest kiss to your forehead before turning off the light. Still, he didn’t move away; instead, he pulled you even closer, as if afraid you might slip away during the night.

But inside his head, chaos reigned.

That’s it. I’m screwed. She’s not just a girl I like anymore… she’s the one who makes my hands shake, the one who makes me smile without even realizing it, the one who throws me off balance just by breathing next to me. Maybe I’m screwed because I’m actually falling for her.

He bit his lip, his heart pounding harder than he wanted to admit. He knew he could never see you as just a study partner again, or simply “that girl he liked.” You were already so much more. So he held you tighter, finally closing his eyes with you safe in his arms.

You woke up slowly, wrapped in the warmth of the bed and a light breath brushing against your skin. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Jake’s black tousled hair, his forehead resting against your neck, his face nestled into the hollow of your shoulder. His arms held you tightly, as if he had no intention of letting go, his hand entwined with yours. “Just a little longer… I’m yours,”

A small smile formed on your lips, and with your free hand, you began to run your fingers through his soft, dark hair gently. Jake mumbled in his sleep, a small sound escaping his half-open lips. “Mmmh… five more minutes…”

You chuckled, snuggling a little closer to him. When you glanced at the alarm clock, you realized there were only two hours left before the exam. A shiver ran down your spine, but you closed your eyes again, determined to savor these stolen moments with the boy lying over you, holding you close.

Jake seemed to stir, and his hand shifted slightly, drawing slow little circles on your warm skin beneath his hoodie, which wrapped around you like a blanket. In a sleepy, husky voice, he murmured, “What time is it?”

“Just before seven… the exam is at nine,” you replied, checking your phone. He nodded quietly without opening his eyes immediately. Slowly, he began placing soft, lazy kisses along the curve of your neck, gentle but so full of affection that shivers ran through you at the feeling of his lips on your warm skin. You played with his hair, laughing softly, because when he kissed you like that, his slow breathing tickled you, until his kisses became a little more insistent, and he nuzzled your neck, making you widen your eyes.

“Jake!” you laughed, teasing. “I don’t want to show up to the exam with a mark on my neck! The professor will already give me a hard time since I’ve failed three times!”

He chuckled against your skin and whispered, “That’s why turtlenecks exist,” with a mischievous grin. You looked scandalized, teasing him back with a laugh, “And where did you learn lines like that, huh? Cheap Casanova!”

Jake propped himself up on one arm next to you, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, still beautiful just after waking, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed from sleep, lips curved into a teasing smile, hair falling messily across his forehead. His fingers brushed your bare skin, and he whispered, “From you.”

You widened your eyes and pushed him away, laughing. “You’re unbearable! Let me get ready for the exam!”

Jake fell back onto the mattress with a whiny groan, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him, eyes still half-closed, hair in every direction, lying on his stomach. “Nooo, don’t go… stay here with me…” he said in an exaggerated tone, and you shook your head, laughing.

As you moved toward the wardrobe, you asked timidly, “Can I wear one of your hoodies… as a good luck charm for the exam?”

The moment he heard that, Jake shot out of the covers like a spring, as if your request had filled his heart with joy. One of his dreams was to see you wearing one of his hoodies. “Of course!” he said, running to grab his favorite from the chair the one with the hood and the stars on it.

“This is my favorite. It’ll bring you luck. I wear it all the time, and it always works!”

You slipped it on and quickly checked yourself in the mirror. The sleeves hung slightly over your hands, the fabric soft and comforting, and most importantly, it smelled like him. You brought your wrist to your nose, inhaling slowly, feeling almost at home, as if nothing could go wrong.

After getting ready, you went out together and stopped at the university café for breakfast. You shared a sweet bagel, you bit the part with the most sugar, and he laughed, teasing you for always being so indulgent. Your anxiety was steadily rising, and Jake did everything he could with his presence to keep you grounded and prevent panic from taking over.

By 8:40, you were standing in front of the Mathematics 1 classroom. The door was still closed, and anxious students crowded the hallways. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. When you felt Jake’s hand gently grasp your wrist, he pulled you slightly closer and leaned down to whisper in your ear:

"Everything’s going to be fine. If you feel anxious, just smell my hoodie, it’s like I’m right there with you… even if I’m outside."

A shy smile spread across your face, and he continued with a firm tone: "Read the instructions carefully, don’t panic, think calmly, and you know the material. I believe that this time will be the one, you’ll pass, and with a beautiful smile too."

You looked into his eyes, filled with warmth and confidence, and felt some of your anxiety melt away thanks to his calming presence. Jake pulled you into a tight hug, and before you could say anything, he pressed a light kiss on your forehead.

"Go crush it," he murmured with a small smile. "I’ll meet you at the café with the others."

As you walked toward the classroom, his voice echoed in your mind like a mantra: I believe in you, Starlet!

The air in the classroom was heavy, almost suffocating. Your hands were ice cold as you nervously rubbed the sleeve of Jake’s hoodie, clinging to it like a good-luck charm. You had just finished the exam, and the waiting was making you feel sick. All you wanted was to know the result and then run straight to Jake, nothing else.

Around you, students whispered to each other; some drummed their fingers on their desks, others stared blankly at the floor. The professor was calling out names one by one, handing back the papers with the results. You held your breath at every name, wishing yours wouldn’t come too soon but at the same time, desperate to get it over with. You were convinced that, this time, you had at least managed to pass thanks to all the practice you’d done. And then it happened.

"Y/n."

You jumped to your feet, clutching your bag tight against your arm. Your legs felt like rubber as you walked to the desk, forcing a polite smile when you met the professor’s eyes. He looked at you with a half-smirk.

"So?" he said. "Did you enjoy studying my subject so much that you wanted to take the exam for the fourth time?"

You bit your lip, but a shy smile escaped anyway. "Let’s just say it’s not exactly my favorite subject… but it was interesting, especially with a good tutor. I really hope I passed this time!"

The professor chuckled, turned the paper toward you, and there it was: a bold red 84.

Your eyes went wide, and a scream of pure joy burst out of you. You clapped your hands and bounced on the spot while the professor shook his head, amused. "So, do you accept it?"

"Absolutely, yes!" you replied without hesitation, your heart pounding not with anxiety now, but with happiness. You quickly signed the paper, grabbed your copy, and thanked him wholeheartedly.

When you stepped out of the classroom, your chest felt like it might burst. You immediately snapped a picture of your grade and sent it to Rosé. Her reply came almost instantly:

"Yesss, babe! I’m so proud of you! We’re getting drunk this weekend!"

You laughed to yourself like an idiot, then made your way to the campus café.

As soon as you walked in, you spotted him. Jake was sitting at a table with Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon, all laughing at something. Jay noticed you first, smirked, and nudged Jake in the ribs. Jake turned sharply, and the moment his eyes landed on you, his whole face lit up with a huge smile.

You rose onto your tiptoes and ran to him, throwing yourself straight into his arms. He grabbed your waist and lifted you slightly off the ground, holding you tight.

"Well, little one?" he whispered against your ear, his breath warm. "How did it go?"

"Eighty-four!" you nearly shouted, and Jake’s eyes widened in disbelief. He spun you slightly as if showing you off like a trophy.

"Eighty-four! I knew it! I’m so proud of you!"

Tears of joy stung your eyes as you clung to him even tighter. "Jake… I’m so happy!"

"I told you, you’d make it," he murmured, and you nodded hard. "Yes… You were right."

When he finally set you down, the others gathered around. Heeseung high-fived you, Jay whistled, and Sunghoon grinned.

"Congrats, seriously," said Heeseung. "I guess Jake could tutor anyone well, any girl at least, if he managed to get you an 84 in Math 1."

"More than a tutor," Jay added slyly. *"I wonder what exactly you two did to make sure Y/n scored that high…"

You immediately pouted theatrically, clinging tighter to Jake’s arm. "No way. Jake’s only my tutor. Forget about it—especially if it’s another girl. He’s mine."

The group burst into laughter.

"Whoa," Sunghoon chuckled. "Didn’t know you were this territorial over Jake! Don’t worry, we’re not trying to steal him."

"Although," Jay teased, winking, "he would be a very… motivating tutor."

"Jay!" you yelped, laughing as you shoved his shoulder, while Jake watched the whole scene with a smile he couldn’t hide. Seeing you joke and laugh so naturally with his friends warmed his heart. He wasn’t just proud of you for the exam, he was proud of everything you were.

After a while, he leaned closer to your ear and asked softly, "Want to go grab something to eat? Or maybe take a walk?"

You shook your head. "I just want to be with you."

Jake chuckled. "That’s why I asked if you wanted to go somewhere, silly."

But you tugged him even closer by the collar of his hoodie. "No, I mean… somewhere just the two of us."

His eyes widened for a second, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he pressed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, almost reverent, and laced his fingers with yours.

"We’re going home," he announced calmly to the guys.

Immediately, Jay and Sunghoon broke into a teasing chorus.

"Oooh," Jay sang, "we all know what ‘home’ means…" he added, wiggling his fingers in air quotes.

"Jay!" you and Jake snapped at the same time, while everyone burst out laughing. Jake shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade as he tugged your hand, leading you toward the door. You followed him, grinning softly.

The cold wall pressed against your back, but what really set you on fire was Jake, his warm body glued to yours, his lips trailing a path of kisses and hickeys down your neck. His kisses weren’t perfect yet, sometimes hesitant, but that was exactly what drove you wild: he had that energy of someone desperate to learn everything about you, to get it right at all costs. Jake adored you and wanted you to know he’d give you the world.

“So…” he murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse and laced with a hint of nerves. “Can I really kiss you… Or are you still worried the professor will see the marks?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to the side in a bold gesture, wondering where the nerd had gone, the one who couldn’t even meet your eyes the first time you’d kissed him in his room.

“Of course you can, Casanova on a budget but if I have to show up tomorrow with a giant bruise… you’re the one explaining it to everyone.”

You didn’t give him time to answer; he chuckled at your words, and you urged him on by tugging his hair. Jake dove back to your neck, sucking harder on your warm, pale skin. A moan slipped from your lips when you felt his hot mouth start to suck and pull, sending little shivers through you.

“Mmm… Jakey…” you breathed. The sound made him vibrate. He laughed softly at the nickname, loving how it sounded from your lips, and held you tighter, his trembling hands sliding under the hoodie you were wearing his hoodie.

“God… you’re beautiful,” he whispered, voice rough, then cursed under his breath, “fuck…” as the zipper of the hoodie slid down, leaving you in the tank top clinging to your body. He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were there, all his. You smiled at him with mischief, pushing him back onto the bed, making him sit. Jake, flushed and dazed, stared as you swung a leg over and straddled him, pressing your breasts against his bare chest.

“What, you just gonna sit there, Jake?” you teased, your lips kissing along his jawline down to his neck. “Want me to do everything?” you whispered while he let out a quiet, desperate sound.

“N-no… let me try, I… I want… I want to make you feel good.”

Your smile widened. He gripped your hips, and this time, without hesitation, you started to grind against the hard length under his jeans. Jake’s breath caught immediately, his moan awkward but impossibly hot.

“Mh...ah…” His hands trembled but held you tight, as if he were afraid you’d slip away.

You lowered your mouth to nip at his chest while he yanked his hoodie off too, leaving red marks on his sculpted abs. Jake threw his head back with a guttural sound that made you squeeze your thighs around him tighter, smiling at the sight of this boy trying with everything he had not to lose control but in a few minutes, he would be yours.

“Don’t hold back,” you ordered, your voice warm and provoking. “I want to hear you, Jake.”

Your words lit him up even more. You let your eyes wander over his body: defined abs, the sharp V-line disappearing beneath his jeans. You bit your lip, murmuring: “It’s honestly illegal for a nerd like you to be this cute and at the same time this sexy.”

Jake flushed hard, but a nervous smile broke across his face. “It’s you… You make me like this,” he stammered. You leaned closer, your hair sliding over his chest as you kissed and sucked gently, your hand caressing his tense abs. Jake moaned louder, his body arching under your touch.

“Fuck…” he rasped, and you laughed softly, straightening up to look at him boldly before continuing to kiss down his abs until you reached his navel, where a thin trail of pale hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. When you lifted your gaze, you found Jake’s eyes locked on you, almost disbelieving what was happening, smiling with an expression that both asked for permission and begged you not to stop.

“Unbutton them,” you murmured with a sly little smile. “Show me how badly you need me.”

He nodded quickly, his fingers trembling as he unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. It only took you a second to notice the obvious hardness straining against the fabric of his boxers, and you bit your lower lip deliberately, letting him see it. Then you slid your own jeans down your legs and kicked them away carelessly before straddling him again, now wearing nothing but your panties and a thin tank top. His hands immediately gripped your ass, pulling you harder against him as if he was desperate to feel you. This time, it was his turn to lean into your chest, kissing your breasts through the thin fabric of your top. His lips left hot trails across your skin while one curious hand slipped underneath, tracing slow circles against your already burning flesh. You shivered under his touch, and he chuckled softly with his mouth still on you.

“Arms up,” he murmured in a rough whisper. You obeyed instantly. He tugged your tank top off, letting it fall beside the bed, and then stared at you for a moment, utterly lost in how beautiful you looked. With a quick motion, he unclasped your bra, and when that too slipped away, you were left bare against his warm chest. He lowered his head at once, sucking on your already hardened nipples, alternating between gentle bites and soft kisses that had your back arching and little moans spilling from your lips. “Aaah…,” you gasped, the broken sound surprising you as much as it sent a shiver down his spine. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly while he continued to worship your breasts with his mouth. “Christ…” he muttered, pulling back just for a second, lips wet and breath ragged. “You’re driving me insane… you’re a criminal.” You ground yourself harder against the solid bulge beneath his boxers, feeling him throb against you, and his breath hitched, a muffled curse escaping his lips. You laughed softly, leaning down to nip at his lower lip. “And to think, I had no idea I could affect you this much.” His hands tightened at your hips, almost restraining you. “I’m completely lost in you… I’ve dreamed of this for so long—having you above me like this…” His voice cracked as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “I’d want you every single day.” A warm laugh slipped from your mouth as you leaned to whisper in his ear: “Let’s see if you’re as good at this as you were tutoring me. Because if you’re not, I’m afraid I’ll fail you—and you’ll never have me again.”

He groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, utterly undone by your teasing. His reaction made you smile wider, and with a playful shove, you pushed him back against the mattress. He stared up at you with eyes dark with need. “Now shut up and let me take care of you,” you teased, brushing your finger across his lips. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll give you a passing grade.” His breath stuttered again, and he looked at you like you were about to destroy him and save him all at once. You whispered for him to lift his hips slightly, and he obeyed instantly, pupils blown wide. To tease him, you traced your fingers along the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers, brushing lightly over his heated skin. He ran a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed a deep red that only made him look more irresistible.

Without stalling any longer, you tugged his boxers down in one quick motion, and his erection sprang free, slapping lightly against his taut abs. You froze for a moment, your mouth falling open as a hushed comment escaped. He was thick, long, flushed pink with need, the tip already glistening. “Fuck…” you whispered, biting your lip. “It’s not fair you’re smart, gorgeous, sweet to me… and you have a cock like this too.” He swallowed hard, stammering. “I-I… I don’t know if… if I deserve you…”

You smirked, lowering yourself before he could recover from your boldness. Your smaller hands wrapped around his length, unable to fully encircle him but stroking with deliberate, slow movements that made him groan loudly. Every sound spilled into the room like something forbidden, and you smiled with satisfaction knowing you were the first and only one who’d ever hear him like this. “You’re so beautiful when you moan like that,” you murmured hotly, slowing your strokes just to watch him squirm. “And you can tease me back, you know… maybe we’ll even come together.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With sudden urgency, his hand slid to the edge of your panties, slipping inside with desperate tenderness. His fingers found your swollen clit instantly, rubbing it with clumsy eagerness, and you cried out at the touch, pressing yourself harder against him. “Bend down… just a little more,” he begged, voice rough and shaking. You obeyed silently, leaning over him, and parted your lips to take him into your warm mouth. You started with small kisses along the slick tip, and he groaned louder, head falling back against the pillow. “Christ…” he gasped, voice breaking. Then, with a low, filthy growl: “God, you’re so wet, so shameless… You have no idea what you do to me. And only I can make you feel this way.” You pulled back just long enough to smile up at him wickedly. “It’s only because of you… no one’s ever made me feel like this before.” The words hit him like a jolt. Without warning, he slid a finger deep inside you, pushing past your slick folds. A loud moan burst from your throat, muffled around him as your thighs clamped tight around his hand, trying to hold him there. He chuckled low, almost disbelieving, as he felt your body tremble and clutch at his finger. “God, you’re unreal… and you’re all mine.”

Your mouth moved slowly and deep along his shaft, tongue swirling around the tip as your throat adjusted to take him further each time. He moaned helplessly, hand still working your clit while two fingers now pumped inside you with steady rhythm. The room filled with sounds your muffled moans around him, his broken groans, the wet slap of his fingers driving into you. When the second finger pressed deeper inside, your eyes brimmed with tears from the overwhelming intensity of it all.

He noticed, and his breath hitched with excitement at your vulnerability. Gathering your hair in one hand, he guided your movements with shaky control. “Breathe through your nose, baby… yeah, just like that,” he murmured hoarsely. You obeyed, bobbing your head with slow, determined rhythm. He clenched his teeth, biting his fist to stifle a shout. “F-fuck… you’re incredible… I can’t hold it… I’m gonna…” he stammered, voice breaking under the weight of pure pleasure.

Feeling how close he was, you reached down and cupped his balls, caressing and gently squeezing them, and that small gesture broke him completely. Jake lost every bit of control, his fingers on your clit speeding up, pushing you higher and higher, and then, with a deep groan, he came hard, spilling hot and thick into your mouth until your lips were full of him.

“N-no… I can’t believe how… how much you’re mine,” he stammered, breathless and dazed, still teasing you between your legs. Seconds later, you trembled too, a powerful orgasm ripping through you that made you moan loudly against his skin, clutching his wrists to stop yourself from falling apart. When you finally lifted your head, your breathing still ragged, Jake slipped his fingers out of you. They were slick and shining with your release. He grabbed a tissue, wiped himself off quickly, laughing softly, his eyes still hazy. “That was… insane… you’re insane.” You laughed quietly, but your eyes immediately fell to his cock, still hard, still swollen, throbbing just a little. Jake nodded, embarrassed yet hungry for you, biting the inside of his cheek. “Well?” you asked, a spark of challenge in your gaze. “How do you want to do it?” “A-any position’s fine, baby,” he said, voice unsteady but thick with want. With a wicked smile, you pushed him back onto the bed, then lay down yourself, opening up completely for him. You pressed your hands to his chest, biting your lip, your shamelessness far bolder than Jake had ever imagined but secretly loved. “This time I have to give you a grade… so it’s your turn to do most of the work.”

Jake swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He moved immediately, bracing himself on his arms and positioning himself above you, the tip of his erection already brushing the warm, slick entrance of your folds. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, and nibbled at his ear the spot you’d learned was his absolute weakness. Jake groaned deeply the moment your teeth grazed his lobe, his cock sliding against your wet, swollen folds, teasing you, heating you until your whole body vibrated. You bit his ear again, harder, and he let out a broken sound that turned you on even more.

“Stop holding back, Jake…” you whispered, voice rough and daring. “No one’s judging you. I can’t wait to feel you inside and be yours.” Jake closed his eyes, shuddering. Then, with a slow but decisive thrust, he pushed inside you. His hot, rigid shaft slid deep, parting your folds and filling you so completely your mouth fell open in a sharp cry. “Jake!” it tore from your lips, your head falling back into the pillows, while he groaned low, as though the pleasure was too much to hold. “F-fuck… you’re so tight… so warm…” When he stopped, fully seated inside you, your bodies fit like puzzle pieces made to lock together. Every breath was shared, every heartbeat aligned. You clung to his shoulders, feeling the warm sweat on his skin. “It’s… it’s so good…” You whispered in his ear, voice trembling. “And you’re so big… You fill me up completely.” Jake let out a shaky laugh. “Tell me when you’re ready… I can stop if you need...”

“Stop?” you shot back, tightening your legs around him and pulling him closer, lips brushing his in a half-smile. “Move, nerd. Make me yours for real this time.” Something in him flicked like a switch. He blinked at you, his eyes going dark with fire, then whispered hoarsely, a harsh sweetness lacing his words: “God, I can’t stand when you’re this shameless with me… you’re a nightmare on bare legs. You want me to lose my mind? Fine… you asked for it.” He started to move slowly at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep. The slow, uneven strokes made you tremble, his inexperience only adding to the rawness. The wet sound of his skin against yours filled the room along with your mingled moans.

“Oh God, Jake…” you gasped, tugging hard at his hair. “Harder… please…” His cock moved so well inside you, but still, deep down, you wanted him to lose himself, to stop treating you like something fragile and just take you. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “No. Now I’m in charge… you’ve been teasing and laughing at me since the first day we met… now you stay right here under me.” Your eyes blurred with tears of pleasure. It was maddening—he filled you so perfectly but still so slowly that every nerve screamed for more. You locked your legs tighter around his hips, trying to pull him deeper. Jake bent his face to your neck, panting. “Look at you… can’t even think straight… all you want is pleasure. Bet after this, you’ll be addicted to me.”

You sobbed softly, unable to stop yourself. “More, Jake, please… I...” He paused for a second, breath ragged, and warned with a half-smile, his voice low and warm: “Careful what you ask for… I might destroy you.” Something inside him snapped. Without warning, he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder, changing the angle completely. With a single deep, strong thrust, he slid back into you at a perfect angle for both your bodies. “Ahhh!” you screamed, surprised by the new depth. Pleasure flashed through you like lightning, the new spot he hit sending every nerve vibrating, your head sinking into the pillow as your body trembled uncontrollably.

Jake groaned, panting at the sight of you. “Fuck… you’re perfect like this… you’re squeezing me like you’ll never let me go.” You couldn’t even speak, moaning and clawing at his back, clinging to him as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks. “D-don’t stop… I’m begging you…” He was completely gone now, thrusting harder, faster, until your moans turned to cries that filled the room. In that moment, there was no one else, just the two of you, two lovers caught in a vortex of desire and something far deeper fate, maybe, that had thrown you together the day you failed your exam and met him.

Jake’s angle made you scream without restraint: his movements reached a place inside you you had never imagined, and every motion made your head roll back, your body reacting instinctively. The intensity of the connection between you two was overwhelming, and your reactions mixed with his gasps, creating a rhythm all your own. Jake gritted his teeth, his voice rough. “Christ… you’re perfect for me.” Every motion seemed sharper, more precise, and tears of sensation rolled down your cheeks as you called out, every reaction pushing him further. He moved with purpose, and the closeness between you made your body respond naturally, grasping instinctively at the sheets.

“That’s your spot, isn’t it?” he growled. You nodded quickly, almost sobbing, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Say it.” Your voice trembled as you whispered: “Yes… yes, Jake… you’re driving me crazy…” He shook his head, sweaty and breathless. “Not yet. You’ve teased me for months, made me lose my mind… now, you’ll come when I say, and together.” You gasped, almost begging, “I can’t… please…” He chuckled softly at your sensitivity. “Don’t act spoiled. I know you can hold on, and I know you’ll be thrilled when it happens with me.” Jake moved with precision, and his touch drove you wild, every motion making your body react as if it were on fire. You clung to him, your hands tracing the curve of his back. “Ah… look at you responding like this…” he laughed softly, watching you completely lost in sensation. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore, Jake…” you stammered. He held back, letting the tension build, and after a final surge, the moment of release came, leaving you both breathless. You felt the closeness, the warmth, and in that instant, he whispered possessively: “Mine.”

You tightened around him instinctively, and he let himself collapse against you, forehead resting against your neck. Your breaths mingled, small sighs filling the room, until a deep, almost sacred silence settled over you two bodies completely surrendered. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, the shorter strands at the nape of his neck still warm and damp. Jake sighed, a deep, soft sound, lost in the sensation of your touch. He shifted slightly, sweat glistening on his temple, pulling back just enough to leave you with a hollow warmth and whispered: “You’re beautiful.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You chuckled softly, biting your lip, opening your arms slightly in a silent invitation. Jake didn’t hesitate, pressing back against you, feeling every beat of your heart against his chest. He pulled the blanket over both of you, cocooning you together despite the heat and sweat from the moment. Forehead to forehead, he whispered, his voice soft and almost reverent: “That was… incredible… you’re perfect. I… don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.” The words hit you in the chest, making your heart race. You lifted your face slightly, meeting his dark eyes, full of affection and a hint of vulnerability. Despite his outward confidence, you could sense his fear of confessing what he truly felt, afraid of breaking the fragile connection you shared. He caressed your face gently, almost reverently, tracing your lips with his thumb. You shivered, holding your breath at the tender touch. “Why so quiet?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. Jake shrugged, offering a half-smile, a little embarrassed. “I’m just… admiring you. Trying to understand how someone can be this beautiful.” You rolled your eyes, teasing: “Ugh, you’re so clingy… disgusting when you talk about love and hopeless feelings, Jake!” He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s disgusting, but it’s true, and deep down, I know you like this side of me.”

Your gaze softened, less teasing, and you pulled him close, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. You felt him stiffen slightly and then blush; his cheeks turned a deep red as he held his breath. Almost without realizing it, you whispered, just inches from his warm skin:

"I love you, Jake."

Jake’s eyes snapped shut as if your words had struck him in the stomach, and he parted his lips slightly, momentarily speechless, almost literally stunned by your declaration. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at you incredulously and stammered,

"Wh-what… did you just say?" You simply shook your head with a small smile, tilting your face slightly:

"You heard that right… But I’m not going to repeat it."

Jake stared at you, eyes wide, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He stumbled over his words, voice cracking slightly:

"Are you joking?"

You pouted and shook your head gently, serious. No, you weren’t joking. You had fallen for him, perhaps from the first time he’d been patient with you, for the way he made you feel, for the way he saw you as a real person, with all your imperfections, anxieties, and fears.

Jake ran a hand nervously through his hair, still staring at you, as if he needed further confirmation.

"Say it again… please," he murmured, almost pleading.

"No," you replied with a cheeky smile, crossing your arms.

Jake paused for a moment, then a playful glint appeared in his eyes. Without warning, he began tickling your sides, your arms, even behind your knees, and you burst into laughter, squirming under him and trying to push his hands away.

"Jake! Stop it!" you giggled, tears of laughter in your eyes.

"I’ll stop only if you say it… if you say it out loud," he countered, a half-smile betraying how much he enjoyed seeing you so defenseless. You kept laughing, and finally, defeated, you shouted amid the laughter:

"Okay! Fine! I love you, Jake!"

Everything froze. Jake stopped immediately, staring at you as if the world had disappeared. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath, then lowered his forehead to yours. His eyes studied yours closely, and his voice dropped to a near whisper:

"I love you too," he said with a tender smile.

You bit your lip to hold back another laugh, but couldn’t resist teasing him:

"I already knew, Jakey," you said.

He rolled his eyes, embarrassed, then looked down and let out a quiet laugh. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips to your neck, and with a whisper that sent shivers down your spine, he murmured:

"I love you."

He held you tightly as if afraid to let go, and you wrapped yourself around him just as fiercely. You stayed that way for a long time, playing with intertwined fingers, laughing softly, stealing little kisses here and there. Every gesture was intimate, sweet, yet charged with the passion you could no longer hide. Piece by piece, you discovered each other again, as if every touch were the first. And once more, you made love slowly, passionately with the knowledge that those three words had changed everything.

As time passed, you found yourself thinking that maybe, yes, fate had played its hand. Those initial failures that had seemed like punishments were, in fact, the path that led you to him. And a part of you was even glad you had been “failed”… because it was fate that had brought you to Jake.

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