if you have any recs, please let me know!! and also most importantly, support the writers! interact with their posts and let them know if you enjoy their work!!!!!!
pairing: eunseok x afab!reader | toxic!bf x toxic!gfreader | basketball captain fratboy eunseok x sorority sister reader | university au! | rich kid au!
a/n: storyline loosely inspired by one tree hill and 90210 | might make this into a three part series | i do not take full credit for the originality of this storyline | gracing my return to tumblr with the nastiest filth for you i did nawt go low key on this
word count: approx. 7.7k
plot: eunseok and you have always been in a toxic on and off relationship and you two always find your way back to each other. after a fight, you devise a plan to make him jealous to get him to come back to you. however, after an alarming incident involving drugs and violence, you have to rethink your choices and reevaluate your relationship
a/n//warnings: mdni, mature content, appearances from riize members, aespa members, enhypen members, frat lifestyle, possibily inaccurate description of university basketball but hey it works, might not have proofread everything
smut warnings (read carefully before proceeding): jealousy, possessiveness, obsession, objectification, creep behaviour (not from eunseok), name-calling, degradation, reader can be a bit of a brat, rough sex, meandom!eunseok, softdom!eunseok, sub!reader, daddy kink, eating out, squirting, fingering, slight exhibitionism kink, drugs, violence, anal sex, p in v, choking, creampie, nipple play, clit stimulation, blowjobs, doggystyle, cowgirl, pet names (baby, baby girl, princess), love bombing?, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) â idk if i missed out on anything else.
requested: yes (from my old blog) but i have permission to turn this into a a full fic - also, there are not enough fics about this foine man
read part 2 here | character instagram profiles | masterlist
---
your relationship with eunseok was toxic from the startâclassic basketball captain slash frat boy meets sorority sister. in the two years youâve been together, youâve broken up and gotten back together far too many times. he was possessive, manipulative, and extremely selfish when it came to you. you, on the other hand, were no angel. you constantly tested his boundaries, riled him up, and pushed his buttons. this often led to screaming matches that eventually ended with your face pressed against the mattress and him taking you in the heat of the moment.
your latest argument, however, had dragged on far longer than you liked. it started at a frat party last week, hosted after his team won a major basketball tournament. after way too much booze and weed, you found your boyfriend surrounded by multiple girls. they were supposedly congratulating him on the win, but they were standing far too close for your liking, touching his armâsomething he clearly didnât mind. you chose to pick a fight toward the end of the party, but eunseok, too drunk and high to care, refused to engage, which resulted in you storming off and ignoring him for the past six days.
honestly, you were getting tired of the fighting, but neither of you was willing to back down or admit defeat. you missed your boyfriendâhis presence, his touch. you were so used to being pampered and getting what you wanted from him that it hurt knowing neither of you was willing to give in. you tried getting off yourself for the past few days but it was just not working. your fingers did nothing for you â they didnât fill you like how your boyfriendâs cock did. you didnât even own any sex toys because whenever you were horny all you needed was to go to eunseok. your sex life with eunseok was one of the main reasons you two lasted for so long since your libidos were equally high.
it didnât help that the two of you shared most of the same classes. youâd been avoiding sitting next to him because, for one, you still werenât willing to apologise. two, you wouldâve lost all sense of pride by hopping onto his cock because youâre ovulating.
eunseok, on the other hand, was just as frustrated. but he genuinely believed he had done nothing wrong and was adamant that you should apologise first. you were his princess, yesâbut eunseok was egotistical and refused to give in when he thought he was right. he was dying to have you back in his arms, basking in your warmth and then to fuck you senseless. although his right hand couldnât make up for much, his resilience was annoyingly better than yours by a little bit.
on the seventh day, you woke up hours before your classes began in cold sweat. your silk shorts clinging onto you like a second skin due to the lack of underwear, your nipples hard against your silk cami. you missed eunseok so much that it was starting to ache. you brought your hand down into your shorts and started to rub your clit, soothing the ache, trying to think of things to walk you through your process but each memory just made your hornier and missing him even more. you decided that today was the day to provoke him and lure him to you without needing to apologise.
after your everything shower, you decided to wear an outfit that you knew eunseok loved but hated to see in public. you put on his favourite black thong, along with a skirt that was long enough to not flash anyone but short enough to send him short-circuiting. you knew how much he hated you wearing revealing clothing if he wasnât around you. you decided to forego the bra and put on a white tee but just so you donât draw too much attention to yourself, you put on eunseokâs varsity jacket to cover your chest. you wanted to poke the bear but you werenât gonna get yourself into the deep end of it. your boyfriend was the epitome of a stone. he was calm and collected, with a cold exterior but he had a temper.
upon seeing you waltz into class, eunseokâs face contorted and his eyebrows furrow from your lack of clothing, the skirt way too short for his liking. every self-restraint he had went out the window once he realised everyone else could see you in it. your outfit from the right angles could look appropriate but eunseok knew it was far from it.
you sat a few rows in front of him and hear your phone buzz as your took your seat. just as you expected, you managed to elicit a reaction from your boyfriend. you smirked but decided to ignore his messages.
seokkie <3 : what the fuck are you wearing
seokkie <3 : y/n donât fucking play with me
seokkie <3 : answer me
seokkie <3 : baby i swear if youâre doing this just to get at me youâre fucking childishÂ
before eunseok could get up and pull you out of the classroom your professor entered and decided to start the class. just right then a classmate of yours enters the classroom late âsorry profâ.
âmr yang, ever the punctualâ. your professor heaves a sigh. âtake a seat your classmates arenât going to wait for youâ. the boy scans the classroom and spots the empty seat next to you and starts walking towards you and this was eunseokâs last straw. yang jinho â sleazy fuckboy captain from the lacrosse team. eunseok had a more than just distaste towards him â he absolutely loathed him. jinho has been trying to get with you from the start moment he saw you and always made remarks about how if your boyfriend was not satisfying you, you could always switch equipments and try out his sturdy lacrosse bat. jinho smirks as he sits down next to you. âalone today pretty girl? no guard dog today?â you roll your eyes at his statement. jinho looks behind to see an angry eunseok, then smirks and winks at him to provoke him more.
âclass, todayâs session is going to be brief. each of you will be paired with the person next to you for the next two weeks and work on a joint report for the topics that iâm about to assign you with. this counts for part of your grade so i expect you to take this seriously.â
no no no no no â eunseokâs brain was malfunctioning. you were not about to be stuck with an idiot who has been dying to get close to you for the past two years.
you were equally panicking at the arrangement but nonetheless decided that this was what eunseok deserved. you know it would tick him off. the additional factor was bound to make him break and heâd have to come to you.
âbro this is so lame,â sungchan, eunseokâs best friend and teammate, groaned next to eunseok, complaining how heâs stuck with him for the next two weeks while tapping on his basketball. eunseok was not listening to any of that but was staring to the back of your head and eyeing every single interaction you had with jinho.
âso looks like youâre stuck with me for two weeks pretty,â jinho smirked before his eyes wandered from your face to your chest, zooming in on the outline of your perky nipples. âwell arenât you a feast for the eyesâ you shot head towards him to see him looking at your chest, causing you to instantly cover yourself. âshut the fuck up idiotâ. jinho chuckled before moving his eyes to your legs. you felt his wandering eyes on you and stood up abruptly, feeling unnecessarily exposed since your outfit choice reached the wrong target audience. âi need to use the bathroom.â you quickly exited the classroom. considering how everyone was engrossed in discussion no one really paid any attention to you leaving.
you felt stupid all of a sudden and just as you were about to start chastising yourself you feel a sharp tug on your wrist and gasped. you turn around to see eunseok, teeth clenched and eyebrows furrowed â he was fuming. it didnât take long before he guided you to the basketball gym and pushed you into the equipment room â a room youâre familiar with considering you and eunseok had a number of raunchy sexcapades in here. it was big enough to have a table in the middle of the room and secluded enough that no one was going to find you or hear you.
âwhat the fuck was that,â he says after pushing you. you rolled your eyes, deciding if he wanted to continue being like that, you would too. âwhat was what?â
he eyes you from head to toe, âyou just wanted to piss me off didnât youâ.
you crossed your arms âuh last i checked you pissed me off, eunseok.â
âso what? youâre just gonna run around and slut yourself out to that idiot just because i wouldnât say sorry? youâre pathetic y/nâ. he scoffed. oh now you were mad. âexcuse me? so you get to have girls touch your arms and bat their eyelashes at you but as soon as jinho breathes next to me youâre upset? what a fucking hypocrite.â you push him and scoff in return.
he grits his teeth and comes closer to you and grabs a handful of your hair, earning a hiss from you, âi donât flash my cock to girls like how youâre flashing your tits to him, practically begging him to just take my sloppy seconds.â
you try to push him away again but he moves forward to pin you against the table and kisses you instead. you kiss him back with the same vigour and tangle your fingers in his hair. your tongues fighting for dominance and his hands now wander to your chest to find your hardened nipples.
he lifts your shirt up and immediately attaches his mouth to your nipple, hands toying with the other one. the moment you felt his hot tongue on your nipple you immediately caved and moaned, missing the pleasure that you were denied for the past few days. ânghh fuck seokkie.â
he detaches his mouth and switches to the other nipple, alternating between licking and sucking. he moans into your chest as he begins to lower his other hand to your skirt. he groans as he feels the lack of fabric covering your pussy and ass despite the short skirt. you instinctively move your hips to his hand, craving the touch you couldnât find in the past few days. he pushes your soaked thong aside to rub your clit, earning few lewd moans from you, each getting louder than before. âugh fuck seokkie.â
he removed his mouth from your nipples and pushed you backwards so that youâre now lying on the table. he looks down at you with a sinister glare. âyouâre leaving this room looking fucked out baby i donât care,â and something about that ignites a fire in your body, not completely opposed to the idea of being fucked hard and rough during lecture hours after your short dry spell. you spread your legs wider, feeling the cold air hit your folds. âwant more seokkie.â
he scoffed with a smirk upon hearing your response. you were always spoilt in bed â only because heâs spoiled you throughout your relationship, constantly giving in to you whenever you asked him to. âfucking greedy girl. canât say no to my princess now can i?â
he inserts his middle finger and ring finger into your pussy, your wetness completely coating his fingers. he fucks you hard and fast with his fingers, the squelching sounds of your folds fill the room. âfuck fuck fuck so good.â your eyes roll back from the sensation as eunseok continues to stare at your state, completely loving how you were submitting yourself to him, and he was no where near done with you. he meant every single word of ruining you. his pace was relentless, with no intention of edging you, in fact he was going to test your boundaries today. âfucking cum on my fingers baby,â and your feel your first orgasm wash over you with ease. âso fucking good seokkie.â
âiâm not even close to being done with you baby, when you leave this room everyone and their mothers are gonna know youâve just been fuckedâ he removes his fingers from your pussy and licks every drop. you feel yourself getting wetter at his remark. âwant that seokkie, want you to ruin me.â he chuckles darkly at you. âbend over.â
you lift yourself up from the table and do as he says. âlift your skirt up baby.â you lift the pathetic excuse of a skirt up, giving him a glimpse of your puffy wet folds, your thong doing a completely useless job in covering anything. eunseok kneels behind you and latches his lips to your folds, proceeding to eat you out from the back. you feel his tongue swirl around your clit before he sucks on it. his tongue darts back out to tease your folds before move higher to your ass. he spreads your cheeks to eat lick your puckering hole while he puts his index and middle finger into your pussy.Â
ânghh fuck yes seokkie youâre so good to me,â your sigh from the pleasure, loving the fact that both your holes were getting the attention. âgotta prep you baby i wanna ruin you but iâm not that meanâ
you grind on his face, eager to chase the orgasms youâve been denied for the past few days. he removes his fingers and inserts his tongue into your folds and starts swirling. you scream and start to tremble from your second orgasm.
eunseok stands up and undoes his belt and pants, pulling it down to bring out his hard and painful cock. he lines his head to your folds, smearing your juices with his tip as he teases your entrance âwhose pussy is this baby?â you spread your cheeks for him. âyours daddyâ. satisfied with your answer, he inserts his dick into your pussy, bottoming out. âdamn right it is.â
he hands find your hips to hold your still and starts thrusting hard and fast. loud pornographic moans and squelching sounds continue to fill the room. he moves one hand to front of your neck to lift you up, his chest now attached to your back. his other hand now completely hugging your front to keep you pinned to him. he grip on you is possessive and hard.
âjust had to dress like a slut baby? i know youâre mad at me but you didnât have to go seek attention from others. you know if you ask iâd give you what you want. you just had to give him a glimpse of whatâs mine,â he tightens his jaw and decided to fuck you harder and grips your neck, bicep flexing right next to your face.
âs-slow down s-seok,â you managed to mutter.
âfucking take what i give you,â he growled. he was relentless.
the hand that was hugging you was now moving to your clit. he starts rubbing figure 8s on your clit and you feel your orgasm approaching you quickly. he feels your walls fluttering and trembling against him but he doesnât stop.
feeling overwhelmed by the sensation, tears start to escape the brim of your eyes. âf-fuck sen-sitive,â you choke out.
âwanna cry baby? do i look like i give a shit? thatâs how i want you look like when you go back to see that fucker.â he lets go of your neck and slowly pushes your spine down the table, your face now completely planted on the surface. he looks down to see your plump ass cheeks bouncing from his thrusts and moves his hands to spread them a little more. your asshole comes into view and he manoeuvres his thumb around it. he slowly inserts his finger into your hole and you instantly moan at the sensation. you and eunseok were no stranger to anal play and in fact, you often found yourself enjoying it. only eunseok could make you into a whimpering slut for his touches, ready to spread out any part of yourself for him.
âyou like having your holes filled baby?â he coos. âyes yes yes fuck yes,â you were completely fucked out. âwant me to stop? want me to slow down? use your big girl words.â
ân-no fuck. harder please daddy.â he continues to fuck you while his thumb stays in your ass, balls slapping your clit. you clench your pussy upon feeling another orgasm creeping up.
âme too daddy,â he laughs at you condescendingly. âsuch a fucking slut didnât you have enough already?â of course you didnât. and who was he kidding? he would always make you cum multiple times until you had to beg him to stop.
âcanât help it daddy feels so good wanna cum.â
âgo ahead baby make yourself cum on daddyâs cock,â you bring your fingers down to your clit and start rubbing circles and you feel a bubbling sensation. your next orgasm gushes out uncontrollably, resulting in eunseok taking his cock out to watch you squirt out on the floor. he chuckles victoriously before plunging his cock back into your pussy. with a few more strokes you feel him unload deep into you. âfuuuuck baby.â
he slowly takes out his dick and you whimper from the sensitivity. eunseok stares at your pussy as some of his cum leaks out to the floor. he sits you up on the table so that you can catch your breath. âspread your legs for me baby wanna see.â
your nipples are rock hard, chest heaving, skirt hunched up and your useless thong soaked and pussy throbbing. âfuck look at you, so fucking perfect,â he whips out his phone and takes a picture of your fucked out state. âspread your pussy for me baby.â
your bring your fingers down to form a v-shape, spreading your hole wider and globs of his thick cum drips out as you exhale. he touches your sensitive hole with two fingers, dips in and spreads his cum to your clit, rubbing slow circles âare you gonna change partners baby?â he stares at you in all seriousness. you furrow your brows, thinking that he wasnât actually going to make a big deal about the project.
âw-what i thought you said-â
âwhat did you think? that i was gonna let him look at your fucked out state? tch baby you know very well i donât share you. tell professor park youâre changing partners or you donât wanna know what iâll do to that guyâ he continues to rub his cum all over your clit and pussy lips. knowing eunseok and his reputation, he had no qualms beating people up and ruining their things, always thinking he can get away with his money and status as the universityâs basketball team captain.
âbut seok, jinho ââ
his fingers still at the mention of his name. his seethes at the way you just uttered another guy's name while being under him. you see his jaw clench and pupils dilate. âdid i not fuck enough sense into you? you still gonna mention his name?â
he starts stroking his cock. âlooks like lacrosse fuckface does need to see who you belong to after all, maybe once he sees your fucked out state he wouldnât wanna mess with a slut like you.â he stands up and aims his cock at you. his eyes now clouded with a type of anger you've not seen before. he wasn't just possessive over you, he was obsessed. he needed for you to see that nobody else could satisfy you like him, that no one else could replace him, that he was the only person for you. he needed you to need him the way he needs you.
âseok what are you ââ
âkeeps those legs spreadâ he comes in fronts of you lining up to your entrance, dips his head into your cum filled pussy only to move it lower to your other hole. you bite your lips and your heart rate picks up.
âease up baby otherwise itâs gonna hurtâ youâve done anal multiple times and still need time to get used to his size.
he eases his head into your hole and itâs a whole different sensation, much stronger, much more electric than before âfucking love this ass.â your face contorts with pain and slow morphs into pleasure when he rubs your clit to help you ease up. âgonna move now baby,â and you nod.
âfuck so good daddy want moreâ he grips your thighs and keeps thrusting. âso fucking tight what a perfect slut for me to useâ
youâre equally dirty. you lick your fingers and start toying with your nipples, adding to the sensation. one hand then moves to your clit and starts rubbing circles âthatâs right baby girl put your fingers in. i know how much you love being filledâ
you dip your fingers in and are met with his thick ropes of cum, the more you finger yourself the more his cum oozes out of you, creating a mess to your thighs. your fingers coupled with the sensation in your ass is making it too much. you were about to cum again and he chuckles at your state.
âbaby youâre so pathetic you canât even stop can you?â your eyes well up with tears and shake your head. âwant it so bad daddy pleaseâ
ânot yet baby girl just a bit longer iâm not done with this assâ he continues to thrust into you. he denies you your orgasm by taking your fingers away from your pussy, earning a whine from you.
you could deny all you want, you hated his toxic possessive side but you loved the way your body reacts to him, you loved his touch and if youâre being honest to yourself, you donât think youâd want to move on from his touches.
he removes his dick from your ass and you whimper at the loss, sound escaping before you can stop it, both your holes now aching from stimulation. your nipples were so sensitive that the fabric from the clothes were too overwhelming. he helps you take off the jacket, t-shirt and skirt, wanting to feel himself all over your bare skin. âturn around babyâ he says after taking off your soaked thong and pocketing it. youâre now fully naked on top of the table and sensitive. âfucking beautifulâ.
he guide you up to get into position. with how wet you are itâs not gonna take long before you cum. he teases you by putting his head into your asshole to watch it stretch but refusing to put it all the way in, he just knew how to get your to succumb to him.
âfuck daddy fuck me pleaseâŚâ
âwhose slut are you?â
âyours daddy!â
âgood fucking girlâ he says before sinking fully into your tight hole. this position was much more euphoric considering heâs in you much deeper. he positions one of your leg up the table to give himself more room.
âohhh yes such a fucking tight ass for me to ruin.â you were in cloud nine, the sensation was much better and you feel your pussy leaking even more with how horny you were right now. âi love it i love it i love itâ you were so cock drunk and a babbling mess. âfuck daddy youâre so deep.â
âlook at you baby you look so fucking pathetic, like a whore,â he chuckled at your state. âeven after fucking you and filling your pussy you still want your ass to be filled, fucking greedy.â you moaned out loud.
âjust a fucking slut who canât keep her legs shut because thatâs what youâre only good for right? a cock warmer. so so so pretty when youâre getting railed baby. fuck, tell me how much you want it baby girl,â your moans are so incoherent at this point, anything you try to respond just doesnât come out right. âd-daddy fuck i want it so bad.â
âthatâs it be a good girl and take it all up your assâ he spanks you and you screamed. âplay with your pussy babyâ you move your fingers into your pussy and start fingering yourself. you feel a rush of euphoria as you squirt again. you clenched your ass upon your final orgasm, causing eunseok to cum.
as he slowly unloads him he watches his cum leak out and dribble to your pussy. "my beautiful princess." as you both catch your breaths he kisses you fondly. âdonât ever do that again and piss me off,â you were about to fight back but honestly you couldnât find the energy to. âi love you so much princess,â he kisses your temple and your cheek. âtell me you love me baby,â he urges. âi love you too seok,â you give him a kiss on the lips.
he passes you your shirt, skirt and his jacket. he helps you put on the jacket and zips up the jacket fully, clearly disapproving any chance of anyone else perceiving your chest. as you smooth out your skirt you bring you hand out to him. âseok, my thong.â
he gives you a wicked smile before shaking his head. âno baby youâre going to go back to that class and have that idiot see the cum dripping from your legs.â
you widen your eyes at his statement. you knew eunseok was possessive over you but he has never deliberately asked you do something like this before. heck he wouldâve punched any guy who dared to even gaze at you for too long. âare you fucking insane!? give it back to me now.â
he raises his brows at you. âdo i look like iâm joking baby? that fucker needs to stop thinking he has a chance with you and you need to stop giving him any signs that he does. so do as i say,â he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, his eyes tell you he was serious. you take a deep breath and close your eyes. âfine,â you muttered while gritting your teeth, knowing that any form of argument is just going to set things back to square one. you just somewhat made up without even needing to apologise to him. he smiles, clearly pleased with your answer, âgood fucking girl.â
you two finally walk back into class, the place still the same before you left - everyone still discussing the project and your professor was far too busy with some other students at the front. you walk towards your table and see jinho on his phone, clearly uninterested in the project and far too occupied with whatever game was on his phone. you take a seat and start to pack your things since there was only 10 minutes left, and jinho whips his head toward you. you were still sensitive. your nipples still hard and your holes still throbbing from the insane session, resulting in more of his cum to trickle down your legs. this does not go unnoticed by jinho. he looks back to eunseok to see eunseok smirking.
âi see guard dog is working overtime,â he chuckled. you rolled your eyes and clenched your legs. âlook, iâm going to do the report. just send whatever you have to me to my email,â you say as you quickly stand up and exit the classroom, glaring at eunseok in the process who only grins at you like he won a prize. if you didnât love him you wouldâve absolutely slapped the soul out of him for finding joy in objectifying you outside of the bedroom.
âbro weâre all set for tonight, taro just texted me he got the goods,â sungchan nudges eunseok with his eyes still glued to the phone. âfuck yeah, itâs about to get lit tonight," sungchan coos.
eunseokâs frat house was hosting another gathering tonight to celebrate the mid-season break and of course everyone was invited. eunseok was fond of the parties but never really had the bone to plan any of it. sungchan took pride in planning the best parties, with shotaro supplying the booze and drugs.
there was no party on campus like a phi kappa sigma party.
---
âfinally made up with loverboy?â you hear your friend karina shouting from across the room, hair tangled with rollers and both her hands working on the hair curler. you smiled at yourself in the mirror, putting the finishing touches of your lip gloss, satisfied with your appearance â long bouncy girls and subtle smoky makeup, a leather crop top that accentuates the shape of your chest, a short black skirt to pair with it and straps of your red thong peaking through your skirt, sticking to your hip bones.
ânow what makes you say that?â you eyed your friend through the mirror. she stares at you, âwell for once youâre in a good mood this week.â you rolled your eyes and turned around to face her. âwell yeah i guess we made up.â
âyou two are like magnets, girl you two wouldnât last without each other,â she rolls her eyes back at you, although you know she means well.
âwell well well ladies looks like the zeta alpha sigma girls are about the outshine everyone else in their parties again,â giselle pops in donning a black co-ord set and knee high boots, rocking her signature rockstar goth chic.
giselle was the first friend you made upon entering university. she was the head strong friend that constantly mothers you and your sorority sisters but with good intentions. in fact, she was eunseokâs childhood friend and the person that introduced you to him. living in high society, their dads were friends and both giselle and eunseok were legacy students at the university. she was the only girl you trust to be around him considering they have about 20 years of friendship between them.
âhurry up rina letâs go!â
---
the phi kappa sigma frat house was in its typical friday night behaviour â loud and bright and filled with people. the three of you had to manoeuvre your way through a bunch of drunk people making out to enter the house. upon enter the house, the smell of weed, alcohol and cigarettes hits your nose and you dart your head around attempting to locate your boyfriend before spotting him on the couch by the beer pong table observing the game in front of him. he's wearing a pair of jeans with a simple tank top and leather jacket over it. one thing about eunseok is no matter how simple his outfit was, his face card made up for it.
your eyes narrow at the sight of girls dressed in far less clothing that were surrounding him and his friends, who were clearly not that interested in playing the game but only doing so that they could bend over to get his attention. youâre thankful your boyfriend seems unfazed by their advances, not even sparing them a glance. you strut your way to him and his eyes lit up with a smile upon you coming into his eyeline. you situate yourself on his lap with your arms locked around his neck. he gives you a kiss before wrapping his arms around your waist, âwas waiting for you baby. what took you so long? missed my princess.â
âlooking this good takes time babe,â you say as a matter of fact. he scans your clothing and caresses your thigh. âfuck i could take you right here on this chair.â
âoh yeah? and give your little fangirls a show?â you were obviously being sarcastic and he chuckles. âbabe do i look like i care about those nobodies?â
âeunseok!â you two dart your heads towards a familiar voice. shotaro walks towards the two of you with a smile and then opens his fist, two seemingly innocent looking pills on offer. âyouâre gonna wanna try these. it kicks in fast.â eunseok pops one of them into his mouth and swallows them before sticking his tongue out again to put the other on his tongue, nudging you to take it. you move to straddle him and his hands find your ass to hold you in place. you lean in to kiss him, taking the pill for yourself and swallowing it. the two of you continue to make out, completely ignoring the unimpressed faces of the girls behind you who seemingly thought they stood a chance with him. you feel him hardening under you and you start to grind onto him. he groans at the contact and steadies your pace with his hands on your hips.
you pulled away to catch your breath. you stare at his glossy eyes, and swollen lips, his lips now stained with a shade of red due to your lip gloss. both your pupils are now completely dilated and senses completely heightened. damn where did taro find these pills. his thumb grazes the outline of your nipples against your top, eliciting a whimper out of you. âfuck baby wanna fuck you right now,â he stands up and guides you to his room and locks the door before throwing you on the bed. he unbuttons his jeans and whips out his cock, giving his a few strokes. âsuck it baby,â he commands you and youâre now on all fours, take his cock into your mouth, eagerly licking and sucking it. his fingers thread through your perfect blowout and groans from the pleasure. you gag from the size of his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat. you release his cock to take a breath before he sits down, urging you to sit on him.
âride me baby,â he shifts your thong to the side and you sink down on him, loving the stretch. âfuck so big seokkie.â he pulls down the straps of your top to reveal your perky breasts, tongue swirling around your nipples and leaving some marks in the process.
âmy perfect little slut, so fucking good fâme princess.â he was so fucking high and possessed. he was looking at you like you were his world, so ready to drown in you. his hands was all over you, groping you and kneading your flesh. his grip against you was tight, trapping you in place as he refuses to be away from you, completely needy and desperate for your touch. âdonât want you away from me,â he pleaded and yearned. you allowed yourself to get lost in his embrace. the effects of the pill slowly clouded your senses and you felt euphoric. your fingers move to his hair and your start tugging on his locks. he looks up at you with a dark glint masking his need for reassurance. âwho owns you baby?â he spanks your ass hard and growls.
âfuck! you do daddy!â you were completely lost in it. âfuck iâm gonna cum!â he starts pistoning his hips upwards and that sends you into waves of heat in your core. âfuck me too baby, gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum,â with one last thrust he releases his load into you. "fuck i love you so much my beautiful girl. mine, all mine," he sighs into your lips and kisses you over and over again. "i love you too seok."
the two of you stay like this for a minute before you hop off and adjust your clothes and makeup. âiâm gonna quickly go grab a drink babe,â you mention to him before heading downstairs. âiâll be with you in a sec.â he says as he catches his breath.
you head down to the kitchen through a sea of people and grab yourself vodka cherry. as you try to make your make your way back you bumped into someone. you were about to apologise before you lift your head up and saw that it was jinho.
âoh, you,â you snickered.
âeasy sweetheart,â he dusts himself and chuckles before eyeing your appearance, spotting a few marks on the top of your chest. âdamn your guard dog never stops, must be lucky to get his dick wet everyday,â upon hearing this â and you blame the drugs in your system â you decided to splash the vodka on his face. "fucking bitch." jinho, clearly displeased with your gesture, lunges forward in an attempt to grab you but before he could do that he's pulled back by eunseok who drops a nasty punch to his face. seemingly still possessed by the effects of the pill, he doesnât stop, giving jinho no time to even react. he pushes him onto the floor and crouches down to grab his collar, causing the crowd to erupt into waves of shock, and starts drilling his knuckles into the side of his face, each punch harder than the last.
your eyes widened, finally realising what was going on. âeunseok! stop! get off!â you try to pull him back but your boyfriend did not give a shit. âhow many times ââ by this time, jinhoâs face was bleeding. â- do i have to tell you-â and this time, you were sure he broke his nose. â- to not fucking mess with my girlfriend,â he roars and by this time his frat brothers heeseung and sunghoon enter the kitchen to try to pull him away. it took a bit of tugging and pulling to get him completely off jinho.
sungchan and shotaro barged into the room with giselle and karina after hearing the commotion. âdude what the fuck!?â sungchan remarks at the sight of blood on the kitchen floor. the only sign that jinho was still conscious was the fact that he tried to get up. "shit." giselle and karina were equally horrified by the sight.
shotaro notices a person recording the entire ordeal and snatches the phone away and tosses it into the mixer jug. he scans the room and notices everyone else was in a daze and no one else had their phones on. this was not his first rodeo.
âeveryone leave and go home!â sungchan shouts to the people at the party. ânow!â everyone begins to scramble and leave. giselle and karina quickly walk toward you to hug you and pull you away. you were crying by now, shocked at what your boyfriend just did. sure, he has thrown a couple of punches before but you have never seen him go this hard, not to a point where the person he punched looks like he was half past dead. eunseok looks at you and sees your tearful eyes gazing back at him with fear. his eyes soften and before he could get up and go to you, to tell you he did what he did to protect you, giselle tugs you away and you follow her. âletâs go babe, let the boys deal with this first." eunseok brings his face to his hands, debating whether he fucked things up with you tonight.
âdude what in the fuck did you do?â heeseung eyes eunseok and combs through his hair with his fingers out of frustration. âthat fucker had it coming,â he spits out. he gave no shits as to whether jinho was alive and functioning. âshut the fuck up eunseok,â shotaro hisses.
jinho gets up and stumbles his way out of the kitchen and heeseung has to hold eunseok back to prevent him from lunging forward again.
âguys â someone just called the cops,â sunghoonâs voice was laced with panic as the sound of the sirens approach the frat house.
âfuckkkkkkk,â sungchan groans.
---
eunseok, sungchan, sunghoon, shotaro, heeseung and other members of the frat house stood in a line, head bowed down and quiet. in a corner, they hear coach kim, their basketball coach, mumbling something to the police officers. this had been going on for the past 20 minutes. a couple of sighs and apologies were heard, and in return, a few stern warnings were seemingly relayed. the police officers then entered their cars and left. after leaving, coach park turns around his jaw is clenched. he walks towards the boys with his hands on his hips.
âin my 25 years of coaching, do you know how many police officers i had to talk to?âÂ
âi don't-â âshut the fuck up park,â he glares at sunghoon who instantly stops talking.
âitâs such a disgrace that my star team,â he said eyeing the five boys, âare fucking hooligans.â he then eyed the rest of the members of the fraternity.
âdid anyone else see this happen?â coach kim looked around hoping for an answer, hoping that news of this incident doesn't reach further than necessary. âno coach, no one,â shotaro answered, remembering how the only form of evidence was sitting in his mixer jug.
âgood,â his face contorted into something similar to relief but still fueled with disappointment. âsong, jung, park, osaki, lee, you five can stay and the rest of you can leave,â he says and waits for everyone else to leave. once everyone is out of earshot, he glared at the five and notices eunseokâs bloody knuckles.
ânot everything here can be fixed with money,â he started off with a sigh. âi know you boys have had it easy and you think since itâs mid season you can party around without consequences,â no one dared to look up to him. "some of you are here as legacy or some other types of privileged backgrounds but the point is, all of you need to fucking wake up and realise daddy's money can't bring you so far if you don't have the right attitude." the boys continued to keep their head down.
âbut this isnât about just college basketball or drugs and parties. some of you couldâve gone to jail tonight and the only reason you did not is because that lacrosse boy was also intoxicated with drugs. i had to convince coach sim over the phone to convince the boy to not press charges.â
upon hearing that, eunseokâs expression remained stoic but a part of him was relieved deep down. âwith that being said, i do not want to this incident to repeat itself,â the boys slowly start to lift their heads up only for coach kim to drop a bomb on them, âwhich is why you five will not play in the first three games when the season continues,â this time eunseok furrows his eyebrows and speaks for the first time.
âcoach what the fuck?! we play dalton for the first game!â dalton was the teamâs main rival, and without the A-team, there was a high possibility the team would lose that game and jeopardise their championship campaign â which also means this would jeopardise their chances of going pro since scouts would undoubtedly show up for the game.
âi said what i said, song,â coach kim turns to eunseok.
âwait no â coach this is not fair,â heeseung interjects.
âwhatâs unfair is me minding my own business and then getting a phone call in the middle of the night saying that my shooting guard has almost sent the lacrosse captain to see his creator,â he glared at eunseok again who now has his eyes closed with a sigh.
âcoach wait, please, not the dalton game, you can suspend us later,â sungchan pleads.
âcoach, the scouts,â shotaro added to it.
ânone of you seemed to care about your future when you decided to commit a few crimes tonight,â he chastised. âi said what i said and if you arenât happy then thatâs on you,â he says before leaving. "clean this fucking shit up and i better not be getting more calls," he sighs in disappointment.
all five boys now were angry, frustrated and upset. âdude what the fuck! did you have to beat him up like that?â sungchan pushed eunseok. âhe was being a fucking creep and was coming on to my girlfriend! he had it coming! if anything, i donât know what the fuck taro gave me,â he then eyes shotaro who now put his hands up in defence, âeveryone had it but no one went apeshit like you,â he fought back.
âman shut the fuck up all of you,â sunghoon groaned. âmy parents are gonna kill me if they find out about this.â
âshut up sunghoon, all of us are now fucked,â heeseung hissed.
---
you were back in your room, the door barely shut behind you, yet the night refused to stay outside.
it clung to you. the sound of the punch. the way jinhoâs body crumpled. the look on eunseokâs faceâunrecognisable, furious, gone.
it replayed over and over again, sharp and unforgiving.
your hands were still trembling.
was it the drugs?
or was it you?
the question sat heavy in your chest, sinking deeper with every passing second. guilt crept in slowly, then all at once tightening around your ribs, making it hard to breathe.
you pressed your palms against your eyes, willing the images away.
it didnât work.
voices filtered in from outsideâlow, rushed, uneasy. giselle and karina. something in their tone made your stomach twist.
you stepped out.
the hallway light was too bright. too normal.
they stopped mid-sentence when they saw you, like theyâd been caught.
âwhatâs going on?â you asked, your voice quieter than you expected, like it didnât quite belong to you.
they looked at each other.
that lookâhesitation, worry, the kind that never meant anything good.
giselle sighed, dragging a hand through her hair before meeting your eyes. âtaro just texted. coach kim showed up.â
a pause.
thenâ
âeunseok, sungchan, sunghoon, heeseung⌠all of themâŚtheyâre suspended. first three games after the mid-season break.â
it didnât register at first. then it did. and your stomach dropped so fast it made you dizzy.
eunseok had been reckless before. hot-tempered. stubborn.
but suspended from games?
never. he was the universityâs pride.
your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out.
âthe good thing is⌠i donât think jinhoâs going to press charges,â karina added, her voice careful, like she was trying not to set something off.
but it didnât help. if anything, it made everything louder.
suspension.
charges.
coach.
university.
all colliding into one unbearable truth.
because of you.
âfuckâŚâ you breathed out, the word barely audible. âeunseokâs dad is going to lose it.â
the thought alone made your chest tighten.
his dadâthe pressure, the expectations, the constant need to be perfect. eunseok had been walking a straight line his entire life, every step calculated, every move watched.
basketball wasnât just a sport for him.
it was his future.
and nowâ
you swallowed hard.
âhey,â giselle said gently, stepping closer, her hands finding your arms. âdonât spiral, okay? weâll deal with it when it comes.â
but the moment she pulled you into her, something inside you cracked.
a sob escaped before you could stop it, raw and sudden.
you clung to her, your fingers tightening in the fabric of her shirt as everything spilled outâfear, guilt, regret, all of it tangled together.
you already knew what you had to do.
âi canât do this, gi,â you said, your voice breaking as you pulled back.
âwhat?â she frowned, confused. âwhat are you talking about?â
âitâs justâŚâ you shook your head, trying to steady your breathing. âhe got into that fight because of me.â
âno, he didnât,â karina said immediately, firm, unwavering.
âi knowâbut every time we fight, something happens,â you pushed, your voice trembling. âand this time it justâit got out of hand. i donât even recognise what this is anymore.â
your chest rose and fell unevenly.
âi canât keep doing this.â
the words felt heavier out loud.
âi have to let him go.â
silence fell between the three of you.
heavy. thick. final.
ây/nâŚâ giselleâs voice softened. âeunseok doesnât blame you. none of them do. if anything, that guy had it coming. heâs lucky itâs just a broken nose.â
âthatâs exactly the problem,â you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you were holding in. âbroken noses, suspensions, possible charges, the university getting involvedâthis isnât just about us anymore!â
your hands clenched at your sides.
âi mightâve just ruined everything for them.â
ây/n,â karina said, her tone grounding, steady. âthink about this properly. donât decide anything right now. sleep on it.â
âyou need to understand this wasnât your fault,â giselle added, squeezing your hand.
but the guilt had already taken root.
and it wasnât letting go.
you turned away before they could say anything else and walked back into your room, closing the door behind you. the silence inside felt louder than the noise outside.
your phone sat on your bed.
waiting.
for a long moment, you just stared at it.
your reflection faintly staring back at you through the black screenâeyes tired, face pale, someone you barely recognised.
you knew this might be a mistake.
you knew youâd probably regret it. but right now, staying felt worse than leaving.
you loved him. god, you loved him.
but love wasnât supposed to feel like destruction.
your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally typed:
eunseok, we canât do this anymore. letâs break up for good this time.
you stared at the message.
then pressed send.
and before you could change your mind, you blocked him.
your chest tightened immediately after. too fast. too final. but you didnât undo it.
you couldnât.
you didnât know how this was going to workâseeing him in class, hearing his name, existing in the same spaces like nothing had happened.
but right now? this felt like the only thing you could control.
---
outside, the night hadnât settled.
voices clashed, sharp and loud, tension thick in the air as the boys arguedâblame thrown from one to another, no one willing to take responsibility.
eunseok stepped away from it all, his head pounding, his chest tight with something he couldnât name.
he just needed a second. a breath. anything. then his phone buzzed.
he pulled it out absentmindedlyâ
and froze.
your name. the contact name he hadnât changed in two years.
princess.
his thumb hovered for a second before he opened it.
princess: eunseok, we canât do this anymore. letâs break up for good this time.
the world around him dulled. the noise faded.
everything went quiet. his eyes shut slowly, jaw tightening until it hurt.
thenâ
his phone slipped from his hand, hitting the ground with a dull crack.
âfuck,â he breathed out, dragging both hands through his hair, pacing, kicking at empty bottles scattered around him. the glass clinked and rolled, echoing in the silence.
it was too much. everything was too much. the suspension. his dad. the team. and now you.
he bent down after a moment, picking up his phone, his grip tightening around it like it might disappear.
his mind was racing, thoughts crashing into each other without direction.
he knew you. he knew you were scared. shaken. overwhelmed.
and if he was being honest, so was he.
he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to steady. not tonight.
he couldnât fix this tonight. heâd give you space. heâd talk to you tomorrow. he always managed to fix things before.
he would fix this too.
he had to.
but somewhere deep in his chest, something didnât sit right. because this didnât feel like your usual fights.
this didnât feel temporary.
this didnât feel like something he could just pull you back from.
this timeâŚfelt like you were really gone.
unlike every other time you two took a break or broke up, this felt different.
.á.áGenre: Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff
.á.áWord Count: ~27.4k
.á.áSummary: After a drunken bet leads to the best sex of your life, you and Jungwon agree to keep things casual. But when feelings get involved and a new guy enters the picture, everything gets complicated.
.á.áContent warnings: explicit sexual content (MDNI), oral sex both giving and receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, use of a vibrator, 69 position, penetrative sex, multiple positions, dirty talk, praise kink, light possessiveness and jealousy kink, dominance and control play, overstimulation, semi-public sex, car sex, shower sex, hickeys, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, weed use, mutual jealousy, emotional avoidance, brief emotional breakdown, using someone as a rebound, kissing someone while emotionally involved with another, sneaking around, strong language, possessive language, mild angst, happy ending
.á.áSong: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys
.á.áAuthors note: hey loves!!, this fic has been living in my head rent free for way too long so i finally just said weâre doing this. please check the content warnings before reading because there is a LOT going on here. two idiots with walls up, terrible at feelings, great at everything else â thatâs the whole story honestly. the smut is meant to show emotional progression so if you read closely youâll notice how they change with each other as feelings develop. daniel was never a villain, just bad timing, please be nice to him đ if you made it to the end thank you from the bottom of my heart đ. comments, likes, feedback and reblogs keep me writing so donât be a silent reader i am begging, ps. yes the title is intentional. enjoy lovelies 𼰠my masterlist
The apartment reeks of weed, cheap beer, and too many people crammed into too small a space. Itâs Jakeâs place tonight, which means Mayaâs been here since noon helping him âcleanâ (read: shove everything into closets).
Youâre sprawled on the couch between Liv and Reina, a half-empty White Claw sweating in your hand, already feeling the pleasant buzz of your third drink settling into your bones. âIâm just saying,â you announce, louder than necessary, âmen are fucking useless.â
âNo, Iâm serious!â You gesture wildly, nearly sloshing your drink. âLike, is it really that fucking hard to find the clit? Is basic anatomy that complicated?â
âHere we go,â Jay groans again from the floor, leaning back against Sunghoonâs legs. Theyâre playing some racing game on mute while everyone else talks over them. Reina cackles. âWho are we talking about?â
âThat guy from Delta Sig I went home with last weekend.â You take a long drink. âForty-five minutes of the most mediocre dick of my life and he had the audacity to ask if I came.â
âDid you fake it?â Liv asks, already knowing the answer.
âFuck no. I told him the truth and he got all butthurt about it.â You roll your eyes. âLike sorry bro, maybe develop some skills.â
âBrutal,â Sunoo says, grinning as he passes the joint to Niki.
âHonest,â you correct. âI donât have time to protect egos. If you canât make me cum, Iâm not gonna lie about it.â
Across the room, Jungwon is watching you with this amused smirk, one eyebrow raised. Heâs been quiet most of the night, nursing the same beer, legs spread wide in that infuriatingly confident way guys sit when they know they look good. And he does look goodâblack t-shirt, gray sweatpants, hair falling into his eyes just right. âWhat?â you challenge, catching his stare.
âNothing.â But his smirk deepens. âJust sounds like youâve been picking the wrong guys.â
âOh please.â You lean forward. âLike youâd be any different.â
Something shifts in his expression. His eyes darken, and he tilts his head slightly, studying you. âWant me to prove it?â
The room doesnât exactly go quiet, but you feel like it does. Your stomach does this weird flip. âProve what?â You keep your voice steady even though your heart is suddenly racing.
âThat youâve been fucking the wrong guys.â He says it so casually, like heâs commenting on the weather. But thereâs nothing casual about the way heâs looking at you.
Reina makes a choking sound beside you. Someoneâmaybe Heeseungâmutters âoh shitâ under their breath. You should laugh it off. Make a joke. Change the subject. But youâre drunk enough to be bold and curious enough to wonder if heâs all talk. âYouâre that confident?â You raise an eyebrow.
âYeah.â No hesitation. âI am.â
The challenge hangs in the air between you. Youâre aware of everyone watching, waiting to see what youâll do. Mayaâs eyes are wide. Jay looks like heâs trying to figure out if he should intervene. âOkay.â You stand up, and Jungwonâs smirk falters for just a secondâlike he didnât expect you to actually take him up on it. âProve it.â
You start walking toward the hallway that leads to Jakeâs bedroom, and after a beat, you hear Jungwon follow.
âAre they reallyââ someone starts.
âYup,â Reina says, and she sounds absolutely delighted.
Jakeâs bedroom is dark and quiet, muffled music and laughter filtering through the door. You flip on the lamp, suddenly aware that youâre alone with Jungwon and you just agreed to let himâ âYou donât have to,â he says, and when you turn, heâs standing close but not crowding you. âIf you were just calling my bluff.â
âWere you bluffing?â
âNo.â
The word sends heat straight through you. You step closer, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. âThen stop talking and do it.â
For a second he just looks at you, and then his hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone. âYou sure?â
âJungwon.â You grab his shirt. âI swear to god, if youâre going to do it, thenââ He kisses you. Not rough, not tentativeâjust sure. Like he knows exactly what heâs doing, and honestly? The confidence is already working for you. His lips are soft and he tastes like beer and something minty, and when his tongue slides against yours, you make a sound youâll probably be embarrassed about later.
But he groans in response, walking you backward until your legs hit the bed. You fall onto it and he follows, hovering over you, one hand planted by your head while the other slides under your shirt. âThis okay?â he murmurs against your mouth.
âYes, fuckâyes.â
His hand skims up your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your bralette, and you arch into the touch. Heâs taking his time, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, finding that spot behind your ear that makes you gasp. âSensitive here?â he asks, sounding pleased.
âShut up.â
He laughs, low and warm against your skin. âYouâre mouthy.â
âYou have no idea.â
âGuess Iâll find out.â He sits back and pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion, andâokay. Okay. You knew he was lean but you didnât know he looked like that without clothes. He catches you staring and smirks. âSee something you like?â
âDonât get cocky.â
âToo late.â But his hands are gentle as he reaches for the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to nod before pulling it off. Your bralette follows, and then his mouth is on your breast and coherent thought gets significantly harder.
Heâs good at this. The guy knows what heâs doing with his tongue, circling your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. His hand works your other breast, thumb and forefinger rolling and pinching until youâre panting. âJungwonââ
âHmm?â He switches sides, giving your other breast the same attention, and you thread your fingers through his hair and tug.
âStop teasing.â
âIâm not teasing.â He looks up at you through his lashes, and the sight of him between your breasts does something to you. âIâm being thorough.â His hand trails down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans. âCan I?â
âYes, god, yes.â
He unbuttons them slowlyâtoo slowlyâand slides them down your legs along with your underwear. Youâre completely naked and heâs still half-dressed, and something about that makes you feel exposed in a way thatâs not entirely uncomfortable. Jungwon sits back on his heels, just looking at you, and you fight the urge to cover yourself. âStop staring.â
âCanât help it.â His hands slide up your thighs, pushing them apart. âYouâre so fucking pretty.â The praise makes your face heat. Youâre not used to guys taking their time like this, looking at you like youâre something worth savoring.
âLet me know if anything doesnât feel good,â he says, and then his mouth is on your inner thigh, kissing and biting a path upward until his breath is ghosting over where you need him most.
The first touch of his tongue is lightâexperimental. He licks a broad stripe up your center and you gasp, hips jerking. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he does it again, more pressure this time. âFuck,â you breathe.
He hums against you, and the vibration makes your toes curl. Then he finds your clit with the tip of his tongue, circling it slowly, andâoh. Oh.
Youâve had guys go down on you before. Most of them acted like it was a chore, something to rush through to get to the âmain event.â But Jungwon is eating you out like he has all the time in the world, like heâs enjoying it as much as you are.
He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, reading your bodyâs reactionsâwhen you moan, when your hips buck, when your thighs start to tremble. And when he slides one finger inside you, crooking it just right while his tongue works your clit, you actually see stars. âHoly shit,â you gasp, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gripping the sheets.
He adds a second finger, stretching you, and the combination of his mouth and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much. Youâre making sounds youâve never made before, completely uninhibited, and heâs groaning against you like getting you off is getting him off. âJungwon, Iâmâfuck, Iâm closeââ
He doesnât change what heâs doing. Doesnât speed up or switch techniques like so many guys do right when youâre on the edge. He just keeps that same perfect rhythm, fingers curling inside you, tongue circling your clit, and you come harder than you ever have with another person. Your whole body goes taut, thighs clamping around his head as waves of pleasure crash over you. He works you through it, only lightening his touch when you start to squirm from sensitivity.
When you can finally breathe again, you look down to find him watching you with the most self-satisfied expression youâve ever seen. âYou were saying?â he asks, and you want to be annoyed but youâre too blissed out to care.
âOkay,â you admit. âPoint proven.â
He crawls up your body, kissing you deep, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. His erection presses against your thigh through his sweatpants, and you reach down to palm him through the fabric. He groans into your mouth. âYou donât have toââ
âI want to.â You push at his shoulders until he rolls onto his back, and then youâre straddling him, grinding down against his clothed cock. âUnless youâre done proving yourself?â
His hands grip your hips, helping you rock against him. âFuck no.â You lean down to kiss him while your hand slips into his sweatpants, wrapping around him. Heâs hard and thick, and when you stroke him, his hips jerk up into your hand.
âCondom?â you murmur against his lips.
âWallet. Back pocket.â You climb off long enough for him to shove his sweatpants and boxers down, andâyeah, okay, the confidence makes sense. You grab his wallet from his discarded pants, finding the condom and tearing it open while he strokes himself lazily, watching you with heavy-lidded eyes.
âLet me,â he says, taking it from you and rolling it on. Then his hands are on your waist, lifting you, positioning you over him. âGo slow. Take what you need.â
You sink down onto him inch by inch, and the stretch is perfect. He fills you completely, and when youâre fully seated, you both groan. âFuck, you feel good,â he breathes, hands flexing on your hips.
You start to move, rolling your hips, finding a rhythm. His hands guide you but he lets you control the pace, watching where youâre joined with an expression thatâs almost reverent. âTouch yourself,â he says, voice rough. âWant to feel you come on my cock.â
The words send a fresh wave of arousal through you. You brace one hand on his chest and bring the other between your legs, fingers finding your clit. Youâre still sensitive from before, and it doesnât take muchâjust a few circles while he thrusts up into you, hitting that perfect spot inside. âThatâs it,â he encourages, sitting up to mouth at your neck, one hand gripping your ass to help you move. âYouâre so fucking hot like this. Taking what you need.â
Youâre close again, impossibly, and when he bites down on your shoulder at the same moment his cock hits deep, you shatter. Your orgasm rips through you and you feel him follow seconds later, groaning your name against your skin as he pulses inside you. You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing hard. His hand comes up to stroke your back, gentle and grounding.
âSo,â he says after a minute, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. âStill think Iâm no different?â
You lift your head to glare at him, but thereâs no heat in it. âOkay, fine. You were right.â
âSay it louder, I donât think they heard you outside.â
You smack his chest and he laughs, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to your palm. The gesture is surprisingly tender for what just happened. âHoly shit,â you say, the reality of the situation finally catching up. âWe just fucked in Jakeâs bed.â
âYeah, we should probablyâŚâ He gestures vaguely. You climb off him carefully, and he deals with the condom while you hunt for your clothes in the dim light. Thereâs something surreal about getting dressed in comfortable silence after what just happened. Like youâve done this before, even though you havenât.
When youâre both decent, you catch sight of yourself in Jakeâs mirror. Your hair is a mess, lips swollen, and thereâs a hickey blooming on your collarbone. âShit.â You touch it gingerly.
Jungwon comes up behind you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. âSorry. Got carried away.â
âItâs fine.â You try to fluff your hair into something less âI just got thoroughly fucked.â âEveryoneâs gonna know, though.â
âThey already know.â He grins. âWe werenât exactly quiet.â
Your face heats. Heâs rightâyou definitely werenât quiet. âOh god.â
âHey.â He turns you around, hands on your shoulders. âYou good? This isnât⌠weird?â
You consider it. By all accounts, it should be weird. You just fucked one of your friends on a drunken bet. But looking at him now, his hair messy from your hands, expression open and a little concerned, it doesnât feel weird. âIâm good,â you say honestly. âYou?â
âIâm great.â His smile is genuine. âThat wasââ
âReally good,â you finish.
âYeah.â You stand there for a beat too long, and then you clear your throat. âWe should probably get back before they send a search party.â
âRight. Yeah.â He opens the door and you walk out first, down the hallway back to the living room where the entire group is absolutely not pretending they werenât waiting for you. The silence when you walk in is deafening.
âSo,â Reina says, grinning like the Cheshire cat. âScale of one to ten?â
âReina!â Maya looks mortified.
You just laugh and drop back onto the couch. âSolid eleven.â The room erupts. Jay throws a pillow at you. Sunghoon looks like he wishes he could disappear. Heeseung and Jake are cackling. Liv just gives you a knowing look and passes you a fresh drink. Jungwon sits down across from you, and when your eyes meet, he smirks. You roll your eyes but canât help smiling back.
Yeah, you think, taking a long drink. This is either the best or worst decision youâve ever made.
Itâs after three AM when the party finally winds down. People are crashed on various surfacesâNiki and Sunoo sharing the big armchair, Heeseung sprawled on the floor, Jay and Sunghoon having claimed the other couch. Maya and Jake disappeared into his room about an hour ago. Youâre pretty sober now, sitting on the balcony with Liv and Reina, sharing a cigarette and watching the campus lights below.
âSo,â Liv says, passing you the cigarette. âYou gonna talk about it?â
âWhatâs there to talk about?â
âYou fucked Jungwon.â Reina isnât one for subtlety. You nod.
âAnd?â
You take a drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. âAnd it was really good.â
âWe gathered that from the sounds,â Reina says, grinning when you flip her off. âBut like⌠are you gonna do it again?â
âI donât know. Probably not?â Even as you say it, youâre not sure you believe it. âIt was just a drunk thing.â
âA drunk thing where you came so hard we heard you through the door,â Liv points out. Your face heats. âOh my god.â
âIâm just saying.â She shrugs. âThat kind of chemistry doesnât come around often. And youâre both single. Why not?â
âBecause heâs part of the group,â you say, voicing the concern thatâs been nagging at you since you got dressed. âIf things got messyâŚâ
âThings donât have to get messy,â Reina says. âPeople have casual sex all the time.â
âNot with their friends.â
âSure they do.â Liv stubs out the cigarette. âLook, Iâm not saying marry the guy. But if you both enjoyed it and youâre both adults⌠I donât see the problem.â
You donât have a good argument for that, mainly because youâre still thinking about his hands on your body, his mouth between your legs, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. âIâll think about it,â you say finally.
Your phone buzzes at 4:17 AM. Youâre in your own bed now, having gotten an Uber home with Liv and Reina. You should be asleep but you keep replaying the night in your head.
jungwon: you up? i canât sleep
You stare at the message for a long moment before typing back. you: same
jungwon: kept thinking about earlier
Your heart rate picks up. you: yeah?
jungwon: that okay?
you: yeah. me too
Thereâs a long pause where you watch the three dots appear and disappear several times.
jungwon: look, if tonight was just a one time thing, thatâs cool. but if you ever wanted to do it again with no strings. you said it yourself. good sex is hard to find
You bite your lip, thumb hovering over the keyboard. This is probably a bad idea. You should say thanks but no thanks, keep things simple.
you: no strings?
jungwon: none. just two friends helping each other out
you: friends who fuck
jungwon: exactly
you: youâre sure this wonât make things weird with the group?
jungwon: only if we let it
You think about what Liv said. About chemistry and being adults and not overthinking things. you: okay
jungwon: yeah?
you: yeah. but we need rules
jungwon: rules work
you: we can talk about it tomorrow. when weâre sober
jungwon: sounds good. for the record though
you: ?
jungwon: you taste amazing
Your face goes hot and you let out an embarrassing sound even though youâre alone in your room. you: go to SLEEP jungwon
jungwon: sweet dreams đ
You toss your phone aside and press your face into your pillow, smiling like an idiot. This is definitely a bad idea. But god, you kind of canât wait to make it worse.
You meet Jungwon at a coffee shop off campus, neutral territory where youâre less likely to run into anyone from the group. Itâs Tuesday afternoon, and you both have a gap between classes. Heâs already there when you arrive, sitting in a corner booth with two iced americanos, and when he sees you, he slides one across the table. âWasnât sure how you take it,â he says.
âBlackâs fine.â You sit down across from him, suddenly feeling weirdly nervous. Which is stupidâyouâve literally had his dick inside you. A coffee meetup shouldnât be the awkward part. But he seems to sense it because he grins. âThis is weird, right?â
âSo weird,â you admit, and you both laugh, and just like that the tension breaks.
âOkay.â He leans back, fingers drumming on his cup. âRules.â
âRules,â you agree. âFirst one: no one can know.â
âAgreed. Jay and Sunghoon would lose their minds.â
âJay would literally try to fight you.â You take a sip of coffee. âAnd Maya would never let me hear the end of it.â
âSo weâre careful. No disappearing together at group things unless we have a good excuse.â
âAnd we stagger leaving,â you add. âLike, if you leave a party, I wait at least twenty minutes before I go.â
âSmart.â He nods. âWhat about texting?â
âKeep it normal in the group chat. If weâre gonna hook up, we text privately.â
âWorks for me.â He studies you for a moment. âWhat about other people?â
You raise an eyebrow. âOther people?â
âLike, are we exclusive? Or can we still hook up with other people?â
Itâs a fair question, even if something in your chest tightens at the thought of him with someone else. Which is stupid. This is purely physical. âWe can do whatever we want,â you say carefully. âBut if either of us starts hooking up with someone else regularly, we should probably end this. Easier that way.â
âMakes sense.â He seems to hesitate. âAnd if one of us catches feelings?â
âThen we stop immediately.â You meet his eyes. âThatâs the most important rule. This only works if weâre both on the same page.â
âAgreed.â He holds out his hand across the table. âSo we have a deal?â
You shake his hand, trying to ignore how warm his palm is against yours. âDeal.â
âCool.â He doesnât let go right away. âSo⌠your place or mine?â
Heat pools in your stomach. âEager?â
âYouâre the one who wore that skirt.â
You glance down at your denim mini skirt, then back up at him with a smirk. âI have class in two hours.â
âThatâs plenty of time.â
His apartment is closer, a small one-bedroom he shares with Heeseung whoâs conveniently at class until five. The second the door closes behind you, his mouth is on yours, backing you against the wall. âBeen thinking about this since Saturday,â he murmurs against your lips, hands sliding under your skirt to grip your ass.
âItâs only been three days.â
âThree days too long.â He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his room. Itâs surprisingly cleanâbed made, clothes put away, posters of various bands on the walls.
He lays you on the bed and steps back, pulling his shirt over his head. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch, admiring the view. âLike what you see?â he asks, echoing your words from the other night.
âYou already know I do.â
He grins and climbs over you, settling between your legs. âWant to try something?â
âLike what?â
âYouâll see.â His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt up around your waist. âTrust me?â
âYeah,â you breathe, and you mean it.
He hooks his fingers in your underwear and drags them down slowly, and youâre already wet just from the anticipation. He spreads your legs wider, thumb brushing over your clit almost teasingly before he slides two fingers inside you. âFuck,â you gasp, hips rolling against his hand.
âStill sensitive from last time?â He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them just right.
âA little.â
He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moan as he works you open. When he adds a third finger, the stretch makes your toes curl. He finger-fucks you until youâre panting, right on the edge, and then he stops. You make a sound of protest and he laughs. âPatience.â He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a small vibrator.
Your eyes widen. âYou just have that?â
âEx left it here.â He turns it on, and the low buzz fills the room. âNever thought Iâd use it, butâŚâ
He presses it against your clit and you nearly jackknife off the bed. The sensation is intense, overwhelming, especially when he slides his fingers back inside you at the same time. âOh fuckâJungwonââ
âThat good?â He sounds smug, but you canât even be annoyed because heâs right. Itâs so good you can barely breathe.
He works you with the vibrator and his fingers, watching your face intently, adjusting based on your reactions. When youâre close, thighs shaking, he leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth through your shirt.
You come with a cry, back arching, and he doesnât stop until youâre pushing his hand away from oversensitivity. âHoly shit,â you pant.
He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside, looking incredibly pleased with himself. âGood?â
âYou know it was.â
âWant to keep going?â Instead of answering, you sit up and push him onto his back, straddling him. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and you grind down against him, making him groan.
âYour turn,â you say, working his belt open. You take your time getting him naked, kissing down his chest and stomach, enjoying the way his muscles jump under your lips. When you finally get his jeans and boxers off, his cock springs free, already leaking. You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly, and he hisses through his teeth.
âYou donât have toââ
âI want to,â you cut him off, and then you take him in your mouth.
âFuck,â he groans, hand flying to your hair. Not pushing, just holding on as you work him with your tongue. You take him as deep as you can, hollowing your cheeks, and the sounds he makes are incredibly satisfying.
You pull off with a wet pop. âYou gonna tell me what you like?â
âThat,â he says breathlessly. âI like that.â
âBe specific.â You lick up the underside of his cock. âI want to make you feel good.â
âFuckâokay, um, tighter grip, andâyeah, just like that.â His hips buck when you comply. âAnd twist your hand a little when youâoh godââ
You find a rhythm that has him falling apart, alternating between your mouth and your hand, and when you cup his balls gently, he swears. âIâm close,â he warns, tugging your hair. âIf you donât want toââ
You double down, taking him deeper, and he comes with a groan, spilling down your throat. You swallow and work him through it until heâs shaking. When you pull off and wipe your mouth, heâs staring at you like youâre some kind of miracle. âYouâre really good at that,â he says, voice wrecked.
âRight back at you.â You climb up to lie beside him. âThis is gonna be fun.â
âYeah,â he agrees, pulling you closer. âIt really is.â
The first group hangout after your arrangement starts is at someoneâs house party on Thursday. One of the senior volleyball guys is throwing it, and the place is packed by the time you arrive with Liv and Reina.
You spot the guys in the backyardâJay and Sunghoon playing beer pong against Jake and Heeseung, Sunoo and Niki smoking by the fence. And Jungwon leaning against the porch railing, red cup in hand, talking to some girl you vaguely recognize from Psychology. Something ugly twists in your chest before you can stop it.
âDonât,â Liv says quietly.
âDonât what?â
âYou know what.â She steers you toward the drinks table. âRemember the rules.â Right. The rules. You can both do whatever you want. It doesnât matter that the girl is touching his arm, laughing at something he said. It doesnât matter at all. You pour yourself a strong drink and down half of it.
âThere you are!â Maya appears, already tipsy, Jake trailing behind her. âWeâve been here for like an hour, where were you?â
âReina took forever getting ready,â Liv says, throwing her under the bus.
âExcuse me, this face is a work of art.â Reina gestures at her makeup. âIt takes time.â
You tune them out, eyes drifting back to Jungwon. The girl is still there, but now heâs looking at you. When your eyes meet, he says something to her and starts walking over. âHey,â he says when he reaches your group, giving everyone a casual nod before his eyes land on you. âYou just get here?â
âYeah.â
âCool.â His cup is empty. âIâm gonna grab another drink. Want to come?â
Itâs a normal question. The kind of thing he might have asked before. But Maya and Reina exchange a look, and you want to die. âSure.â
You follow him to the drinks table, hyperaware of the space between you. âThat girl,â you say as he pours vodka into his cup. âFrom Psychology?â
âMina. Yeah.â He adds red bull, not looking at you. âShe was asking about the midterm.â
âRight.â
âYou jealous?â Heâs smirking now, voice low enough that only you can hear.
âNo.â
âLiar.â He leans in slightly. âYou look really good, by the way.â
Youâre wearing low-waisted jeans and a cropped black tank top, simple but effective. âThanks.â
âHaving fun yet?â
âI just got here.â
âWant to have more fun later?â The suggestion in his voice is clear.
âMaybe.â You take a sip of your drink. âIf you play your cards right.â
âChallenge accepted.â
Two hours later, youâre drunk and high and dancing in the crowded living room with Reina and some people from your Communications class. The music is too loud, bodies pressed too close, and youâre sweaty and happy and not thinking about anything.
Until hands settle on your waist from behind. You know itâs Jungwon before you even turn aroundâyouâre getting familiar with his touch. Heâs behind you, moving with you, and it takes everything in you not to lean back against him. âThought you were playing beer pong,â you say over your shoulder.
âGot boring.â His breath is warm against your ear. âThis is better.â
You shouldnât be doing this. People will notice. But the room is dark and crowded, and everyoneâs drunk, and his body feels so good against yours. You let yourself grind back against him, just a little, and his grip on your waist tightens.
âYouâre trouble,â he murmurs.
âYou started it.â
One of his hands slides lower, fingers playing with the belt loop of your jeans, not quite dipping under but close enough to make you ache. âYour place or mine?â he asks.
âMine. Livâs staying at her girlfriendâs.â
âMeet you there in twenty?â
âMake it fifteen.â
He shows up in twelve minutes. The second you open your apartment door, heâs on you, walking you backward until you hit the wall. His mouth is hot and demanding, tasting like weed and whatever he was drinking, and you canât get enough. âFuck, Iâve been wanting to do this all night,â he groans, hands everywhere at once.
âYou were talking to that girl for like twenty minutes.â
He pulls back to look at you, grinning. âYou were jealous.â
âShut up.â
âYou were.â He kisses down your neck. âThatâs cute.â
âI wasnâtââ You lose your train of thought when he bites down on your pulse point.
âWhatever you say.â His hands slide under your shirt, pushing it up. âCan I take this off?â
âYes.â
Your shirt and bra hit the floor, and then his mouth is on your breast and you stop caring about anything else. He takes his time, sucking marks into your skin that youâll have to cover tomorrow, and when he drops to his knees in front of you, your brain short-circuits. âThese too?â Heâs already unbuttoning your jeans.
âPlease.â He gets you naked efficiently, and then heâs lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, face level with your pussy.
âHold on to something,â he advises, and then his tongue is on you. You grip his hair with one hand, the other braced against the wall, as he devours you. Heâs not gentle about itâlicking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue until your leg is shaking and youâre barely staying upright.
âJungwonâfuckâIâm gonna fallââ
He stands up, and before you can process it, heâs lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to your bedroom, laying you out on the bed.
âBetter?â he asks.
âMuch.â
He strips quickly and you admire the viewâheâs fully hard, cock jutting up against his stomach. When he settles between your legs again, you expect him to reach for a condom, but instead he slides down your body. âWant to try something else,â he says, kissing your inner thigh.
âYeah?â
âCan I go down on you while you suck me?â
Heat floods through you. âLike 69?â
âYeah.â He looks almost nervous. âIf you want.â
âOkay.â He repositions so heâs on his back, and you straddle his face, leaning forward to take his cock in your hand. The angle is different like this, and when his tongue finds your clit, you gasp.
âFuckâsorryââ Youâre distracted, and you force yourself to focus, wrapping your lips around him.
Itâs intense, trying to concentrate on getting him off while heâs making you feel so good. Every time you take him deeper, he groans against your pussy, and the vibration makes you moan around him.
Youâre dripping on his face, riding his tongue, and his hands grip your ass, pulling you down harder. The obscene wet sounds fill the room, and youâre so turned on you can barely see straight.
When he slides two fingers inside you while sucking your clit, you come with his cock still in your mouth, and he follows seconds later, groaning your name. You collapse beside him, both of you breathing hard. âHoly shit,â you say eventually.
âGood?â
âSo good.â You turn your head to look at him. âYouâre full of ideas.â
âI like making you come.â He says it so casually, like itâs a fact. âWant to see how many times I can do it.â
âIs that a challenge?â
âIf you want it to be.â
You glance at the clockâitâs barely midnight. âHow many orgasms are we talking?â
âHow many can you handle?â
âMore than youâd think.â
His smile is wicked. âLetâs find out.â
Forty minutes and two more orgasms later (one from his fingers, one from actually fucking), youâre a boneless mess in your sheets and Jungwon looks unreasonably smug. âI think I won,â he says.
âYou didnâtâI made you come tooââ
âTwice. You came four times.â
âItâs not a competition.â
âEverythingâs a competition.â But heâs smiling, tracing lazy patterns on your hip. âYou okay? Not too much?â
âIâm great.â And you areâexhausted and satisfied and floating. âYouâre really good at this.â
âSo are you.â He kisses your shoulder. âWe work well together.â
âYeah,â you agree. âWe do.â Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it and find a string of messages in the group chat. maya: where did everyone gooooo
reina: i saw y/n leave and jungwon left like right after đ
jay: oh god not this again
sunghoon: can we NOT
heeseung: let them live lmao
reina: iâm just SAYING
liv: leave them alone
You show Jungwon the messages and he laughs. âWeâre not subtle,â he says.
âNot even a little bit.â
âDoes it bother you?â
You think about it. The teasing is annoying, but itâs not like youâre ashamed. âNo. Does it bother you?â
âNah.â He stretches, all long limbs and satisfied energy. âLet them speculate. As long as we donât confirm anything, weâre good.â
âAgreed.â You type out a response. you: i left because i was tired. stop being weird
reina: SURE
you: i hate you
reina: love you too babe đ
You toss your phone aside and curl into Jungwonâs side. He wraps an arm around you automatically, and it feels dangerously comfortable. âShould you go?â you ask. âItâs late.â
âDo you want me to?â
You should say yes. Letting him stay feels too intimate, too couple-y. But youâre tired and warm and heâs already half-asleep. âYou can stay if you want.â
âOkay.â Heâs already drifting off.
You lie awake a little longer, listening to his breathing even out, trying not to think about how right this feels. Itâs just sex, you remind yourself. Really good sex with someone you trust. Thatâs all. You almost believe it.
Friday afternoon you have Intro to Film Studies, and youâre running late because you definitely overslept after Jungwon didnât leave until 6 AM. You slide into your usual seat next to this guy Marcus from your dorm building just as the professor starts. âRough night?â Marcus whispers, grinning.
âSomething like that.â Youâre trying to focus on the lecture about French New Wave cinema when your phone buzzes.
jungwon: you left your underwear in my car
You freeze. you: WHAT
jungwon: black lace ones. very nice btw
you: how did they end up in your car???
jungwon: you really donât remember?
And then you do remember. Wednesday night, he picked you up after your late class, you made out in his car in the parking garage, things escalated, and apparently you forgot to put all your clothes back on.
you: oh my god
jungwon: donât worry, heeseung didnât see them
jungwon: i hid them before he got in
you: this is a nightmare
jungwon: or itâs funny
you: WHERE ARE THEY NOW
jungwon: my pocket
you: JUNGWON
jungwon: what? theyâre safe
you: youâre insane
jungwon: you like it
You bite your lip to keep from smiling, hyperaware that youâre in the middle of class. you: iâm in class
jungwon: so am i. keeps things interesting
you: i hate you
jungwon: you definitely donât. not after the sounds you were making wednesday night
Your face goes hot. you: STOP
jungwon: come over after class?
you: canât. studying with maya
jungwon: tomorrow?
you: thereâs that party at the phi delt house
jungwon: sunday then
you: sunday works
jungwon: itâs a date
you: itâs not a date
jungwon: right. forgot. just two friends fucking
you: exactly
jungwon: canât wait đ
You shove your phone in your bag and try to concentrate on the lecture, but itâs useless. Youâre too busy thinking about Sunday, about his hands and his mouth and the way he says your name when he comes. This is getting dangerous. But you canât seem to stop.
The party Saturday night is massiveâPhi Delt always goes hard. You show up with your girls, already tipsy from pregaming, and immediately lose track of everyone in the crowd. Youâre in the kitchen mixing a drink when someone bumps into you, sloshing vodka on your hand. âShit, sorryâoh hey!â
You turn to find Mina, the girl from Jungwonâs Psych class. Up close sheâs even prettierâlong dark hair, perfect skin, bright smile. âNo worries,â you say, wiping your hand on your jeans.
âYouâre friends with Jungwon, right?â she asks. âIâve seen you guys together.â
Something in your chest tightens. âYeah, weâre friends.â
âHeâs so sweet.â Sheâs making herself a drink, completely oblivious to your internal crisis. âWeâve been studying together for Psych. Heâs really smart.â
âYeah, he is.â
âAre you guys like⌠together? I donât want to step on any toes.â
The question catches you off guard. âOhâno, weâre just friends.â
âCool!â She seems genuinely relieved. âI was thinking about asking him out. Do you think heâd be into that?â
You should say yes. Or say you donât know. You should definitely not feel like you want to throw your drink in her face, because you have no claim on Jungwon. Thatâs the whole point. âYou should ask him,â you say, forcing a smile.
âI think I will!â She bounces off, and youâre left standing there feeling weird and hollow.
You down your drink and make another one, stronger this time. âEasy there,â a voice says, and you turn to find Jay watching you with concern. âYou okay?â
âFine.â
âYouâre drinking like youâre not fine.â
âIâm just trying to have fun, Jay. Is that allowed?â
He holds up his hands. âOkay, okay. Just checking.â
You feel bad immediately. âSorry. Iâm just⌠itâs been a week.â
âWant to talk about it?â You shake your head no. âDoes this have anything to do with Jungwon?â
Your head snaps up. âWhy would it?â
âCome on.â Jay gives you a look. âIâm not stupid. Neither is Sunghoon. We know somethingâs going on.â
âNothingâs going on.â
âRight. And you guys just happened to leave that party within five minutes of each other for completely unrelated reasons.âYou donât say anything. âLook,â Jay says, his voice gentler. âI donât care what you guys do. Youâre both adults. I just donât want to see you get hurt.â
âIâm not going to get hurt. Itâs just casual.â
âIs it?â
Before you can answer, Jungwon appears in the doorway, Mina trailing behind him. When he sees you, something flickers across his face. âHey,â he says.
âHey.â
Mina touches his arm. âIâm gonna go find my friends, but text me about that study session?â
âSure,â he says, and she leaves.
You feel Jay watching both of you. âIâm gonna go find Sunghoon,â he says pointedly. âYou two⌠talk. Or whatever.â
When heâs gone, Jungwon moves closer. âYou okay?â
âFine. Why wouldnât I be?â
âYou seem tense.â
âIâm not tense.â
âOkay.â He doesnât look convinced. âYou want to get out of here?â
âI just got here.â
âSo?â
âSo people will notice.â
âLet them notice.â His hand brushes yours, brief but deliberate. âCome on. Please?â
You shouldnât. You should stay at the party, hang out with your friends, stop making everything about him. âFine,â you say. âBut you leave first.â
You end up at his place again. Heeseung is gone for the weekend, so you have the apartment to yourselves. The second the door closes, heâs kissing you, and it feels different somehow. More desperate. Like heâs trying to prove something. âWhat was that about?â you ask when you break for air.
âWhat was what about?â
âWith Mina.â
âNothing. She wants to study together.â
âShe wants to do more than study.â
He pulls back slightly, looking at you. âAre you jealous?â
âNo.â
âYou are.â He sounds pleased.
âIâm notâwe have rules, Jungwon. You can do whatever you want.â
âSo can you.â His jaw tightens. âDidnât stop me from wanting to punch Marcus when I saw him sitting next to you in the library yesterday.â
âYou saw that?â
âYeah.â
âWeâre just study partners.â
âI know.â He kisses you again, softer this time. âThis is stupid, right? We shouldnât be jealous.â
âRight.â
âBecause itâs just casual.â
âExactly.â Youâre both quiet for a moment.
âFor the record,â he says finally, âIâm not interested in Mina. Or anyone else.â
âYouâre not?â
âNo.â He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. âThisâwhat we haveâit works. I donât want to fuck it up by bringing other people into it.â
Relief washes over you. âYeah. Same.â
âSo⌠exclusive, then? Just while this is happening?â
âJust while this is happening,â you agree.
âGood.â He kisses you again, and this time when you end up in his bed, it feels different. Slower. More intentional.
He takes his time undressing you, kissing every inch of skin he exposes. When he finally settles between your legs, he looks up at you. âTell me what you want,â he says.
âYou.â
âBe specific.â
âI wantââ Youâre breathless already and he hasnât even touched you yet. âI want your mouth.â
âWhere?â
âYou know where.â
âSay it.â His breath ghosts over your inner thigh.
âMy pussy,â you say, face heating. âI want your mouth on my pussy.â
âGood girl.â The praise makes you clench around nothing, and then his tongue is on you and you forget how to think. Heâs devastatingly thorough, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, sliding his fingers inside you when you start to squirm. Youâre panting, desperate, right on the edge when he stops.
âJungwonââ
âWant you to come on my cock,â he says, reaching for a condom. He rolls it on and slides into you in one smooth thrust, and you both groan. The angle is perfect, hitting deep, and when he starts to move, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. âFuck, you feel so good,â he breathes against your neck. âSo wet for me.â
âDonât stopââ
âNot stopping.â His hand slides between your bodies to rub your clit. âWant to feel you come.â
It doesnât take long. The combination of his cock and his fingers pushes you over the edge, and you come with a cry, clenching around him. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he pulses inside you. You stay like that for a while, catching your breath, his weight comfortable on top of you.
âYouâre staying tonight, right?â he asks eventually.
âYeah,â you say, and you donât even pretend to think about it. âIâm staying.â
He rolls off you to deal with the condom, and when he comes back, he pulls you against his chest. You let yourself relax into him, listening to his heartbeat slow. This is definitely more than just casual. But neither of you says it out loud.
Three months in, and youâve gotten good at this. Really good. You and Jungwon have the routine down to an art form. You donât leave parties together anymoreâone of you leaves, the other waits at least half an hour. You vary whose place you go to. You keep your hands to yourselves during group hangouts, no lingering touches or loaded looks. In the group chat, you bicker and joke like you always have.
To everyone else, the initial excitement has worn off. Whatever was happening between you two seems to have fizzled out. Even Reina has stopped making comments. Which is perfect, because it means no one notices that youâre fucking almost every other day.
Itâs a Wednesday afternoon in mid-October, and youâre sprawled across various surfaces in Jay and Sunghoonâs apartment. Maya and Jake are tangled together on the loveseat, Liv is rolling a joint at the coffee table, Reina is painting her nails on the floor. The guys are scattered aroundâJay and Sunghoon playing FIFA, Heeseung scrolling his phone, Sunoo showing Niki something on his laptop. And Jungwon is sitting across from you in the armchair, looking completely relaxed, like he wasnât buried inside you this morning before your 9 AM class.
âIâm so fucking hungry,â Reina announces. âCan we order food?â
âItâs three in the afternoon,â Sunghoon says, not looking away from the TV.
âYour point?â
Everyone starts debating what to order, and you catch Jungwonâs eye across the room. He raises an eyebrow slightly, and you know exactly what heâs thinking about. This morning, you pinned against his shower wall, water streaming over both of you, his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet even though Heeseung wasnât home. You bite your lip and look away before you start smiling like an idiot.
âEarth to Y/N,â Niki says, waving a hand in front of your face. âYou alive in there?â
âWhat? Yeah, sorry.â
âI was asking about that guy you were telling me about.â He grins. âThe one from a few weeks ago?â
Your brain stalls. âWhat guy?â
âYou know, when we went to get coffee last week. You were telling me about hooking up with someone and how he was like, insanely good?â
Oh shit. You do vaguely remember that conversationâyou and Niki had gotten coffee between classes, and heâd been asking about your dating life, and youâd maybe been too honest about how good the sex had been lately. Youâd kept it vague, hadnât mentioned names, but still. The room has gotten quiet, everyone paying attention now. âOh,â you say, very aware of Jungwonâs eyes on you. âThat was⌠nothing. Just some guy.â
âSome guy whoâs apparently the best fuck youâve ever had,â Niki says, looking way too entertained. âThose were your exact words.â
âNikiââ
âWhat? Iâm just saying, thatâs high praise coming from you.â
Reina sits up straighter. âWait, hold on. Youâve been holding out on us? Who is this mystery man?â
âItâs not a big dealââ
âBest fuck of your life sounds like a big deal,â Liv points out, though sheâs trying not to smile. Sheâs the only one who knows the truth, and sheâs clearly enjoying watching you squirm.
âAre you still seeing him?â Maya asks.
âItâs casual.â
âIs it that guy from your Econ class?â Reina guesses. âThe tall one with the man bun?â
âNo.â
âThe bartender from that club we went to?â
âNo.â
âGive us something,â Sunoo pleads dramatically. âWe need details.â
You absolutely cannot look at Jungwon. âThere are no details. Itâs just⌠casual hookups. Nothing serious.â
âBut the sex is good?â Reina presses.
âYeah,â you admit, because denying it now would be weird. âThe sex is really good.â
âHow good are we talking?â Heeseung asks. âLike, good good, or like, mind-blowing life-changing good?â
Your face is burning. âCan we please talk about literally anything else?â
âOh my god, itâs mind-blowing life-changing good,â Reina says gleefully. âLook at her face!â
âI hate all of you.â
âWhat makes it so good?â Maya asks, genuinely curious. âLike, whatâs he doing thatâs so different?â
âMaya!â
âWhat? Iâm trying to learn here!â
You risk a glance at Jungwon. Heâs very still, expression carefully neutral, but thereâs something in his eyes. You canât tell if heâs annoyed or amused or something else entirely. âHe justââ You struggle for words that wonât give anything away. âHe pays attention, I guess? Like, he actually cares about getting me off. And heâs⌠confident. Knows what heâs doing.â
âSize?â Reina asks bluntly.
âOh my god, Reina!â
âWhat? Itâs a relevant question!â
âIâm not answering that.â
âSo itâs good,â she concludes. âNoted.â
âCan we please order food now?â you beg.
Jay takes pity on you. âYeah, letâs vote. Pizza or Thai?â
The conversation mercifully moves on, and you finally let yourself breathe. But when you glance at Jungwon again, heâs looking at his phone, jaw tight. Shit.
The group ends up ordering pizza, and by the time it arrives, youâve almost forgotten about the awkward conversation. Almost. Youâre halfway through your second slice when your phone buzzes: jungwon: can you come help me with something in the car?
You frown at the message. You all walked here, no one drove. you: what?
jungwon: just come outside for a sec
You make an excuse about needing air and head downstairs. Jungwon is waiting by the building entrance, hands in his pockets. âWhatâs wrong?â you ask.
âReally?â He looks at you. âBest fuck of your life?â
Oh. âYouâre mad about that?â
âIâm not mad.â
âYou sound mad.â
âIâm notââ He runs a hand through his hair. âI just donât love the idea of you telling Niki about us.â
âI didnât tell him about us. I kept it vague. He doesnât know itâs you.â
âBut you were talking about me. About our sex life.â
âIs that not allowed?â You cross your arms. âWeâre not together, Jungwon. I can talk to my friends.â
âI know that.â His jaw ticks. âI justâforget it.â
âNo, what? Say what youâre thinking.â
Heâs quiet for a long moment. âDid you mean it? What you said up there?â
âAbout what?â
âAbout it being the best youâve had.â
Your stomach flips. âI⌠yeah. I meant it.â
His expression softens slightly. âYeah?â
âYeah.â You step closer. âWhy, did you doubt it?â
âNo, I justâŚâ He trails off, looking almost embarrassed. âI liked hearing it, I guess. Even if I wasnât supposed to be the one hearing it.â
âYouâre so weird.â
âYou like it,â he says, echoing your texts from months ago.
âMaybe.â You glance back at the building. âWe should go back up before someone notices.â
âWait.â He catches your wrist. âCome over tonight?â
âJungwon, we just saw each other this morning.â
âSo?â
âSo weâre supposed to be keeping this low-key.â
âI am keeping it low-key. No one suspects anything anymore.â He tugs you closer. âPlease? I want to try something.â
âYou always want to try something.â
âAnd you always like it.â Heâs smirking now. âCome on. I promise Iâll make it worth your while.â
You shouldnât. Youâre supposed to be at the library studying for your midterm tomorrow. But the way heâs looking at you makes your resolve crumble. âFine. But I canât stay over. I really do need to study.â
âIâll take what I can get.â
You show up at his apartment at eleven, after spending three hours actually studying with Maya. Heeseung is home this time, playing video games in the living room. âHey,â he says when you walk in. âJungwonâs in his room.â
âCool, thanks.â Youâve been here enough times now that itâs not weird anymore. Heeseung barely looks up when you head down the hall and knock on Jungwonâs door.
âCome in.â Heâs at his desk, laptop open, but he closes it when he sees you. âHey.â
âHey.â You drop your bag by the door. âWhat did you want to try?â
âImpatient.â
âI have a midterm at 8 AM. Get to the point.â
He stands and crosses to you, and thereâs something different about his energy tonight. More intense. âI want you to tell me exactly what you want.â
âI always tell you what you want.â
âNo,â he says. âYou tell me when I ask. I want you to take control. Tell me exactly what to do.â
Heat pools in your stomach. âYou want me to⌠boss you around?â
âYeah.â His hands settle on your hips. âThink you can do that?â
âIââ Youâre flustered now. Youâre used to him being in charge, confident and directing everything. The idea of flipping that dynamic isâŚ
âYou donât have to,â he says quickly. âIf youâre not into itââ
âIâm into it,â you cut him off. âJust⌠give me a second.â He waits, patient, and you take a breath. You can do this. Youâve been sleeping together for three months. You know what he likes, what makes him fall apart.
âOkay,â you say, and your voice comes out steadier than you feel. âTake off your shirt.â He complies immediately, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.
âJeans too.â He unbuttons them, pushes them down with his boxers, and kicks them away. Heâs already half-hard, and the sight makes your mouth water.
âLie down on the bed.â He does, and you take a moment to just look at him. Heâs gorgeous like thisâall lean muscle and smooth skin, cock thickening against his stomach, watching you with dark eyes.
âTouch yourself,â you say. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly, and you watch, mesmerized.
âWhat are you thinking about?â you ask.
âYou.â His voice is rough. âAlways you.â
âWhat about me?â
âThe way you taste. The sounds you make when you come. How good you feel wrapped around my cock.â
Youâre definitely wet now. You start stripping, taking your time, and his eyes track every movement. âYouâre so fucking hot,â he breathes.
When youâre naked, you climb onto the bed and straddle his thighs, just out of reach. âStop touching yourself.â He does, hand falling to his side, and you lean down to kiss him. Itâs slow and deep, and when you pull back, his pupils are blown. âI want your mouth,â you say.
âWhere?â
âYou know where.â
âSay it.â His breath ghosts over your inner thigh.
âMy pussy,â you say, face heating. âI want your mouth on my pussy.â
âGood girl.â The praise makes you clench around nothing, and then his tongue is on you and you forget how to think.
Youâre straddling his face, thighs bracketing his head. The position makes you feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time. âEat me out,â you order. âDonât stop until I come.â
He doesnât need to be told twice. His tongue finds your clit immediately, and you gasp, gripping his hair for balance. Heâs good at thisâyouâve known that since the very first timeâbut something about being in control makes it even better. âJust like that,â you pant, rolling your hips against his face. âFuck, your tongue feels so good.â
He groans against you, hands gripping your ass, pulling you down harder. You ride his face shamelessly, chasing your pleasure, and when he slides two fingers inside you, crooking them just right while his tongue works your clit, you actually see stars. âHoly shit,â you gasp, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gripping the sheets.
He adds a second finger, stretching you, and the combination of his mouth and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much. Youâre making sounds youâve never made before, completely uninhibited, and heâs groaning against you like getting you off is getting him off. âJungwon, Iâmâfuck, Iâm closeââ
He doesnât change what heâs doing. Doesnât speed up or switch techniques like so many guys do right when youâre on the edge. He just keeps that same perfect rhythm, fingers curling inside you, tongue circling your clit, and you come harder than you ever have with another person. Your whole body goes taut, thighs clamping around his head as waves of pleasure crash over you. He works you through it, only lightening his touch when you start to squirm from sensitivity.
Youâre still trembling when you climb off him, and his face is wet, lips swollen. He looks incredibly pleased with himself. âGood?â he asks.
âSo good.â You kiss him, tasting yourself. âBut Iâm not done with you yet.â
âNo?â
âNo.â You wrap your hand around his cock, and he hisses. âI want to ride you. But you donât get to touch me.â
âWhat?â
âHands behind your head.â He complies, lacing his fingers behind his head, biceps flexing. You grab a condom from his nightstand and roll it on, and then youâre sinking down onto him, both of you groaning at the sensation.
âFuck,â he breathes. âYou feel amazing.â
âNo touching,â you remind him when his hands twitch.
âThis is torture.â
âThis is fun.â You start to move, rolling your hips, finding the angle that makes you both moan. âWatch me.â
He does, eyes glued to where youâre joined, then traveling up to your bouncing breasts, your face. âYouâre so fucking beautiful.â
âTell me what you want,â you say.
âWant to touch you. Want to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress.â
âNot yet.â You lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs, changing the angle. âOh fuckâright thereââ
âYeah?â His voice is strained. âThat feel good?â
âSo goodââ Youâre close again, which should be impossible but apparently Jungwon has ruined you for anyone else. âIâm gonna come againââ
âLet me see.â His hands are fisted in his hair, knuckles white from the effort of not touching you. âWant to see you fall apart on my cock.â The words push you over the edge. You come with a cry, clenching around him, and he groans.
âCan I touch you now?â he begs. âPleaseââ
âYesââ
His hands are on you immediately, gripping your hips, and he thrusts up into you hard. Youâre oversensitive and itâs almost too much, but then heâs sitting up, wrapping his arms around you, and kissing you desperately. âYouâre incredible,â he pants against your mouth. âFucking incredibleââ
He comes with his face buried in your neck, and you hold him through it, both of you slick with sweat. When you both catch your breath, he flops back onto the bed, bringing you with him. âThat wasââ he starts.
âYeah.â
âWe should do that again.â
âDefinitely.â You glance at the clock and groan. âShit, I really need to go study.â
âStay,â he says. âJust for a little bit.â
âJungwonââ
âPlease? We can study together. I have a midterm tomorrow too.â
You should say no. Should go back to your apartment and study alone like you planned. But his arms are around you and youâre comfortable and warm, and maybe staying for an hour wonât hurt. âFine,â you say. âOne hour.â You stay for three.
A week later, youâre at another partyâthis one at someoneâs house off campus. Itâs someoneâs birthday, youâre not sure whose, but the music is good and the drinks are strong and youâre having fun. Youâre in the kitchen with Liv and some people from your Communications class when you see Jungwon walk in with Heeseung and Jake. He spots you immediately, and you quickly look away. Youâve been good about not staring at each other at parties. Good about acting normal.
But then some girl approaches himâblonde, pretty, wearing a crop top that shows off her absâand you watch as she touches his arm, leans in close to say something in his ear. Your stomach twists.
âYou okay?â Liv asks quietly.
âFine.â
âYouâre glaring.â
âIâm not glaring.â
âYouâre definitely glaring.â She follows your gaze. âItâs just some random girl. It doesnât mean anything.â
âI know that.â
But when the girl laughs at something Jungwon says, her hand still on his arm, you feel something ugly rise in your chest. This is stupid. You have no claim on him. Youâre not together. He can talk to whoever he wants. You turn away and pour yourself another drink.
âWant to go dance?â Liv suggests.
âYeah. Letâs go.â You spend the next hour on the makeshift dance floor, deliberately not looking for Jungwon, deliberately not caring where he is or who heâs talking to.
Itâs fine. Everythingâs fine.
Youâre getting another drink when you feel someone behind you. âHaving fun?â Jungwonâs voice in your ear makes you shiver.
âYeah. You?â
âItâs alright.â Heâs close enough that you can feel his body heat. âWant to get out of here?â
âBusy tonight.â
âBusy with what?â
âJust⌠busy.â
âAre you mad at me?â
âWhy would I be mad?â
âYou tell me.â
You turn to face him. âThat girl you were talking to. She was pretty.â
Understanding dawns in his eyes. âAre you jealous?â
âNo.â
âLiar.â He steps closer. âFor the record, she asked for directions. Thatâs it.â
âI donât care.â
âYou clearly do.â His hand brushes yours. âCome over. Let me prove I only want you.â
You should say no. Should make him work for it. But the look in his eyes makes your resolve crumble. âFine,â you say. âBut youâre leaving first this time.â
By the time you get to his apartment, youâre both frantic. You barely make it inside before youâre tearing at each otherâs clothes, kissing desperately. âYou drive me crazy,â he mutters against your lips, walking you backward toward his room. âWatching you dance with those guysââ
âI wasnât dancing with anyone specificallyââ
âDidnât matter. Wanted to punch all of them anyway.â He gets you naked and on his bed, and then heâs between your legs, and this time thereâs an edge to it. Like heâs claiming you, proving something. He eats you out until youâre crying, overstimulated and desperate, and then he flips you over.
âOn your knees,â he orders, and you comply, ass in the air. He slides into you from behind and you both groan. The angle is deep, almost too much, and when he starts to move, you can barely breathe.
âYou feel so good,â he pants, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. âSo fucking perfect.â
âHarderââ
He complies, fucking into you relentlessly, and you fist the sheets, moaning into the pillow. âNo one else gets to have you like this,â he growls, and the possessiveness in his voice shouldnât turn you on as much as it does. âJust me. Right?â
âYesâfuckâyesâjust youââ
One of his hands slides around to rub your clit and you come with a scream, clenching around him. He follows right after, collapsing on top of you.
When you can both move again, he pulls out carefully and you both clean up in silence. Thereâs something heavy in the air, something unsaid. âStay,â he says when you start to get dressed.
âI canât keep staying over, Jungwon. People will noticeââ
âI donât care anymore.â He catches your wrist. âStay.â
You look at himâreally look at him. His hair is a mess, lips swollen from kissing, and heâs looking at you like youâre something precious. This is getting too real. Too intense. Youâre supposed to be keeping things casual, but nothing about the way you feel when youâre with him is casual anymore. âOkay,â you say quietly. âIâll stay.â
He pulls you back into bed, and you curl into his side, listening to his heartbeat slow. âY/N?â he says after a while.
âYeah?â
âThis thing with usâŚâ He trails off.
Your heart pounds. âWhat about it?â
âNothing. Never mind.â
But youâre both thinking the same thing. This stopped being casual a long time ago. Neither of you is ready to admit it yet.
November hits campus like a cold slap. The trees are bare, everyoneâs walking around in puffer jackets and beanies, and the semester is hitting that point where everyoneâs exhausted and stressed and living on coffee and spite.
Youâre in Advanced Marketing on a Thursday morning, half-asleep and trying to absorb information about consumer behavior models, when Professor Chen makes an announcement. âBefore we start, I want to introduce a new student joining us. This is Daniel Choiâheâs transferring from NYU. Daniel, why donât you tell us a bit about yourself?â
You glance up andâoh. Daniel is tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair styled back, and an easy smile. Heâs wearing a navy sweater that probably costs more than your textbooks, and when he speaks, his voice is warm and confident. âHey everyone. Iâm a junior, majoring in Marketing and Communications. Just moved here from New York, so still figuring out the campus. Looking forward to getting to know you all.â
âWonderful,â Professor Chen says. âWhy donât you take that seat next to Y/N? Y/N, raise your hand?â
You do, reluctantly, and Daniel makes his way over, sliding into the seat beside you. âHey,â he says, smile widening. âThanks for letting me sit here.â
âItâs not really my seat to give, but sure.â
He laughs. âFair point. Iâm Daniel.â
âY/N.â
âNice to meet you, Y/N.â Then Professor Chen launches into the lecture, and you try to focus, but youâre aware of Daniel beside youâthe way he takes notes on his laptop, occasionally glancing over at your notebook like heâs comparing, the expensive cologne thatâs subtle but noticeable.
When class ends, he turns to you. âHey, I know this is random, but do you think you could help me out? Iâm completely lost on where anything is on this campus.â
âThere are mapsââ
âI know, but theyâre confusing as hell.â He gives you a slightly sheepish look. âAnd Professor Chen mentioned youâre a great student. I could use someone to show me around, maybe fill me in on what Iâve missed in class so far?â
You should say no. Youâre busy. You have your own classes and your friends and your⌠whatever Jungwon is. But Daniel seems nice, and itâs just showing someone around campus. âSure,â you find yourself saying. âI have a break after this. I can give you a quick tour.â
âYouâre a lifesaver.â His smile is genuinely grateful. âCan I at least buy you coffee?â
You spend the next hour showing Daniel around campusâthe library, the student center, the various academic buildings, the good food spots versus the ones to avoid. Heâs easy to talk to, asking questions about classes and professors, and heâs funny in a dry, clever way that makes you laugh.
âSo NYU to here,â you say as you walk past the quad. âThatâs a big change.â
âYeah.â He shoves his hands in his pockets. âMy dad got relocated for work, and the family moved. Figured Iâd come with them rather than stay in New York alone. Plus, cheaper tuition as an in-state student.â
âThatâs fair. How are you liking it so far?â
âCampus is nice. People seem cool.â He glances at you. âPresent company especially.â Itâs flirty but not obnoxiously so, and you feel your face warm slightly.
âWait until you experience your first real winter here,â you say, deflecting. âThen weâll see if you still think itâs nice.â
âIâm from New York. I can handle cold.â
âThis is different. This is Midwest cold. The kind that hurts your face.â
He laughs. âIâll take your word for it.â
You show him a few more buildings, and by the time youâre done, your break is almost over. âThis was really helpful,â Daniel says. âSeriously, thank you.â
âNo problem.â
âCan I get your number? In case I have questions about class or campus stuff?â Itâs innocent enough. Just a new student wanting help navigating. You give him your number. âThanks.â He saves it in his phone. âIâll see you next class?â
âYeah, see you.â You watch him walk away, and youâre surprised to find yourself smiling a little.
You donât think much about Daniel over the next few days. Youâre busy with midterms and work and your friends. And Jungwon. Especially Jungwon.
Youâve been spending even more time together latelyâstudying at his place, grabbing food between classes, and obviously still hooking up regularly. Itâs gotten to the point where you have a toothbrush at his apartment and he has spare clothes at yours. It should worry you how domestic itâs becoming. It doesnât.
Youâre at his place on Saturday night, both of you on his bed with your laptops, supposedly working on separate assignments but really just procrastinating together. âIâm so sick of this essay,â you groan, flopping backward.
âHow much do you have left?â
âLike, three pages.â
âThatâs not bad.â
âItâs three pages I donât want to write.â You roll over to look at him. âEntertain me.â
âIâm busy.â
âNo youâre not. Youâve been on the same paragraph for twenty minutes.â
He closes his laptop with a sigh. âFine. What do you want to do?â
âI donât know. Something that isnât homework.â
He shifts closer, hand sliding up your thigh. âI can think of something.â
âWe literally had sex an hour ago.â
âSo?â
You laugh and push his hand away. âYouâre insatiable.â
âOnly with you.â Heâs smiling but thereâs something in his eyes that makes your chest tight.
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it and see a text from an unknown number.
unknown: hey! itâs daniel from marketing class. hope this isnât weird but i had a question about the assignment due next week?
You smile and save his contact. you: not weird at all! whatâs your question?
âWhoâs that?â Jungwon asks, and thereâs an edge to his voice.
âNew guy in my marketing class. He transferred from NYU.â
âAnd heâs texting you?â
âHe had a question about the assignment.â You glance at Jungwon. âWhy?â
âNo reason.â But his jaw is tight, and you recognize that look. Heâs jealous.
Your phone buzzes again. daniel: professor chen mentioned something about a group project? do you know if groups are assigned or if we pick our own?
you: we pick our own! usually groups of 3-4. i can add you to mine if you want? we still need one more person
daniel: that would be amazing. thank you! also totally unrelated but are you free tomorrow? wanted to check out that coffee place you mentioned and could use the company
You hesitate. Itâs just coffee. Daniel is nice, and heâs new and doesnât know anyone. It would be rude to say no. you: sure! iâm free around 2?
daniel: perfect. iâll meet you there
You set your phone down and find Jungwon staring at you. âWhat?â
âYouâre getting coffee with him?â
âHeâs new. He doesnât know anyone. Iâm being nice.â
âRight. Nice.â He doesnât sound convinced.
âJungwon, itâs just coffee.â
âDoes he know that?â
âKnow what?â
âThat itâs âjust coffee.â Or does he think itâs a date?â
You sit up. âItâs not a date. Weâre literally just getting coffee. Why do you care?â
âI donât.â
âYou clearly do.â
âI justââ He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. âNever mind. Do whatever you want.â
âI am doing whatever I want. Thatâs kind of the point of this arrangement, remember?â
The words come out harsher than you intended, and something flashes across his faceâhurt, maybe, or anger, you canât tell. âRight,â he says quietly. âThe arrangement.â
The air between you feels heavy, wrong. You want to take it back, to explain that you donât actually want to get coffee with Daniel, that youâd rather spend tomorrow with Jungwon like you spend most days. But you donât say any of that. âI should go,â you say instead, closing your laptop. âItâs late.â
âYou donât have toââ
âI have an early class tomorrow anyway.â You gather your stuff quickly, and Jungwon doesnât try to stop you. When you leave, he doesnât ask you to stay like he usually does. You tell yourself itâs fine. Everythingâs fine.
Coffee with Daniel is actually really nice. Heâs waiting outside the cafĂŠ when you arrive, and he lights up when he sees you. âHey! Thanks for coming.â
âOf course.â
Inside, the place is cozy and warm, smelling like espresso and cinnamon. You order your usual and Daniel gets some complicated drink with like five different modifiers. âHigh maintenance,â you tease as you find a table by the window.
âI know what I like,â he says, grinning. âCanât fault me for that.â
You spend the next hour just talking. He tells you about growing up in New York, his family, his friends back home. He asks about your life, your major, your friends. Heâs a good listener, asking follow-up questions, seeming genuinely interested. Itâs easy. Comfortable. And heâs cuteâyou canât deny that. The way he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. The way he leans forward when youâre talking, giving you his full attention.
âSo,â he says eventually, stirring his drink. âDo you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or⌠partner? I donât want to assume.â
Your stomach drops. âIâno. Not exactly.â
âNot exactly?â He raises an eyebrow, curious, not pushy.
âItâs complicated.â
âComplicated how?â
You shouldnât tell him. Itâs none of his business. But something about the way heâs looking at you, open and interested, makes you want to talk about it. âThereâs this guy,â you say slowly. âWeâve been⌠hooking up. For a few months now. Itâs supposed to be casual but lately it feels likeâŚâ
âLike itâs not casual anymore?â Daniel finishes.
âYeah.â
âDoes he know you feel that way?â
âI donât know. We donât really talk about it.â You take a sip of your coffee. âItâs stupid. We had rules. No feelings, no complications. And Iâm the one whoâs complicating it.â
âFeelings arenât stupid,â Daniel says gently. âAnd if heâs worth anything, he feels the same way.â
âWhat if he doesnât?â
âThen heâs an idiot.â He smiles. âFor what itâs worth, any guy who has you and doesnât want more is definitely an idiot.â
Itâs sweet. Maybe a little too sweet, a little too flirty, but you find yourself smiling back. âThanks, Daniel.â
âAnytime.â He checks his phone. âShit, I have to go. Meeting my parents for dinner. But this was really fun. We should do it again?â
âYeah, thatâd be nice.â
âCool.â He stands, shrugging on his jacket. âSee you in class Tuesday?â
âSee you then.â You watch him leave, and youâre not sure how to feel. Daniel is nice. Heâs attractive and smart and funny, and heâs clearly interested in you. But heâs not Jungwon. Your phone buzzes.
jungwon: you busy tonight?
You stare at the message for a long moment before typing back. you: studying with maya. why?
Itâs a lie. You donât have plans. But you need space to think, to figure out what youâre doing.
jungwon: nothing. just wanted to see you. have fun studying
The guilt sits heavy in your chest.
You avoid Jungwon for the next few days. Itâs not hardâyou claim youâre busy with midterms and assignments, which is partially true. But really, you just need time to sort through your feelings.
Because the truth is, youâre falling for him. Have been falling for him for months now. And the idea of telling him and having him not feel the same way, of losing what you have, terrifies you. So you throw yourself into other things. Classes. Assignments. Your friends. And Daniel.
He texts you throughout the weekâmemes, questions about class, random observations about campus life. Itâs friendly and light and uncomplicated. You tell yourself thatâs why you respond, why you agree to study together in the library, why you sit next to him in Marketing and laugh at his whispered jokes during lectures. But you know thatâs not entirely true. You know youâre using Daniel as a distraction. And itâs not fair to him.
On Thursday, youâre leaving your Marketing class with Daniel when you run into the group. Literallyâyou turn a corner and almost collide with Maya and Jake.
âOh! Hey!â Maya says, then notices Daniel. âWhoâs this?â
âThis is Daniel. Heâs new. Daniel, this is Maya and Jake.â
âNice to meet you,â Daniel says, friendly and charming.
âYou too,â Maya says, but sheâs giving you a look. âWeâre all getting lunch. You want to come?â
âOh, umââ
âYou should definitely come,â Jake says. âWhole groupâs gonna be there.â Your stomach sinks. Whole group means Jungwon.
âI donât want to intrude,â Daniel starts.
âYouâre not intruding,â Maya insists. âThe more the merrier. Right, Y/N?â
âRight,â you say weakly.
Lunch is at the student center food court, and by the time you arrive with Daniel, everyone else is already thereâMaya and Jake, Liv and Reina, Jay and Sunghoon, Heeseung and Sunoo and Niki. And Jungwon. Heâs sitting at the end of the table, and when he sees you walk in with Daniel, something shutters in his expression.
âEveryone, this is Daniel,â you announce. âHe just transferred here.â
Everyone introduces themselves, welcoming and friendly, and Daniel fits in easily. Heâs charming and funny, and within minutes, heâs got Reina laughing at some story about his first week on campus. You sit across from Jungwon, and the tension is suffocating.
âSo Daniel,â Sunghoon says. âWhereâd you transfer from?â
âNYU.â
âDamn, thatâs a downgrade,â Heeseung jokes, and everyone laughs.
âI donât know,â Daniel says, and his hand brushes yours on the table. âIâm liking it here so far.â The touch is casual, probably meaningless. But Jungwonâs eyes lock onto it, and his jaw clenches.
âHow do you and Y/N know each other?â Niki asks.
âWe have Marketing together,â you say quickly. âIâve been helping him get caught up.â
âY/Nâs been a lifesaver,â Daniel adds. âDonât know what Iâd do without her.â Itâs innocent. Friendly. But the way heâs looking at you is⌠not. And Jungwon sees it.
âThatâs nice,â Jungwon says, voice flat. âY/Nâs good at helping people.â Thereâs an undercurrent there that makes you flinch.
The conversation moves on, everyone eating and talking, but youâre hyperaware of Jungwon across from you. Heâs barely touched his food, just pushing it around his plate, and every time Daniel says something that makes you smile, Jungwonâs expression gets darker.
âSo Y/N,â Reina says. âYou still seeing that mystery guy? The one whoâs so good in bed?â
You want to die. âReinaââ
âWhat? Iâm just asking!â
âWhat mystery guy?â Daniel asks, curious.
âThereâs no mystery guy,â you say firmly. âReinaâs making stuff up.â
âIâm literally not. You told Niki about him.â
âThat was months ago.â
âSo youâre not seeing anyone?â Daniel asks, and thereâs hope in his voice.
Before you can answer, Jungwon stands abruptly. âI gotta go. Got class.â
âBut we just sat down,â Heeseung protests.
âI forgot I have to talk to my professor about something.â He grabs his bag and leaves without looking at you. The table goes quiet for a beat.
âWhatâs up with him?â Jake asks.
âNo idea,â Sunoo says, but heâs looking at you thoughtfully.
âMaybe heâs not feeling well,â Maya suggests.
You know thatâs not it. You know exactly whatâs wrong. âI shouldââ You start to stand. âI should check on him.â
âWhy?â Reina asks.
âBecause weâre friends. And he seemed upset.â
âIâll come with you,â Daniel offers.
âNo,â you say, too quickly. âI meanâyou should stay. Finish eating. Iâll be right back.â
You donât wait for a response before hurrying after Jungwon. You catch him outside the building, heading toward the parking lot. âJungwon, wait!â He stops but doesnât turn around. âWhat was that?â you ask when you reach him.
âWhat was what?â
âYou know what. Walking out like that.â
He finally turns to face you, and the look in his eyes makes your chest hurt. âI donât know what you want me to say, Y/N.â
âI want you to tell me whatâs wrong.â
âYou really donât know?â He laughs, but thereâs no humor in it. âYou show up with that guy, heâs all over you, looking at you likeââ He breaks off, running a hand through his hair. âAnd youâre just letting it happen.â
âHeâs not all over me. Weâre friends.â
âDoes he know that? Because from where Iâm sitting, it looks like he thinks youâre something more.â
âEven if he did, why do you care? Weâre not together, remember? Thatâs the whole point.â
âRight,â he says bitterly. âThe arrangement. How could I forget?â
âJungwonââ
âAre you into him?â
The question catches you off guard. âWhat?â
âDaniel. Are you into him?â
âIâno. Not like that.â
âBut you could be.â Itâs not a question. âIf things were different. If we werenâtâŚâ He gestures between you, unable to finish the sentence.
âI donât know,â you say honestly. âMaybe. Heâs nice. And heâsââ
âUncomplicated,â Jungwon finishes. âHeâs not sneaking around. He could actually take you on dates, be seen with you, give you what you want.â
âWhat I want?â
âMore.â He steps closer. âYou want more than this, Y/N. I can see it. And I canâtââ
He stops, and your heart is pounding. âYou canât what?â
âI canât give you that.â His voice is rough. âThisâusâitâs supposed to be casual. No strings. Thatâs what we agreed.â
âAnd what if I donât want casual anymore?â The words tumble out before you can stop them. âWhat if I want more?â
He stares at you, and for a moment you think heâs going to say itâthat he wants more too, that this has been killing him the same way itâs been killing you. But then he looks away. âI canât,â he says quietly. âIâm sorry.â
It feels like the ground has been pulled out from under you. âRight,â you manage. âOkay.â
âItâs fine.â Youâre backing away, fighting tears. âYouâre right. This was always supposed to be casual. My mistake for thinking it could be anything else.â
âThatâs notââ
âI should get back. Everyoneâs waiting.â You turn and walk away before he can say anything else, before you completely fall apart in front of him.
When you get back to the table, Daniel takes one look at your face and frowns. âYou okay?â
âYeah,â you lie. âJust⌠tired. Long week.â
âWant me to walk you home?â
You should say no. Should put some distance between you and Daniel before this gets messy. But youâre hurt and angry and you donât want to be alone. âYeah,â you say. âThatâd be nice.â
As you leave with Daniel, you donât see Jungwon watching from across the quad, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like his world just fell apart.
You donât talk to Jungwon for the rest of the week. He texts a few timesâ casual messages asking how you are, if you want to study, if youâre okay. You respond with short, noncommittal answers.
The group notices. How could they not? You and Jungwon have been attached at the hip for months, and suddenly you can barely be in the same room. âWhat happened between you two?â Liv asks when youâre alone in your apartment.
âNothing.â
âBullshit. Youâve been miserable all week.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre not fine. Youâre avoiding him. And heâs been moping around like someone kicked his puppy.â You donât answer, just stare at your laptop screen without actually seeing it. âDid something happen with Daniel?â she presses gently.
âNo. Danielâs just a friend.â
âDoes Jungwon know that?â
âIt doesnât matter what Jungwon thinks.â
Liv is quiet for a moment. âYou should talk to him. Actually talk. Because this? This is worse than whatever youâre avoiding.â
You know sheâs right. But youâre scared. Scared that if you talk to Jungwon, youâll have to end things for real. That youâll have to accept that he doesnât want what you want, that these past few months have meant something completely different to him than they have to you.
So you do what youâve been doingâyou avoid him. And you spend more time with Daniel.
Itâs Friday night, and thereâs a party at some seniorâs house. You show up with Liv and Reina, already a few drinks in from pregaming, and the place is packed. You lose your friends almost immediately in the crowd. Youâre making your way to the kitchen when you spot Daniel. âHey!â He brightens when he sees you. âI was hoping youâd be here.â
âYeah, wouldnât miss it.â Youâre definitely drunker than you thought. âHaving fun?â
âMore fun now.â He hands you a drink. âHere. Itâs strong, fair warning.â You take it and down half of it in one go. âRough week?â he asks.
âSomething like that.â
The music is loud, bass thumping through your chest, and Daniel leans in closer to be heard. âWant to go somewhere quieter? Maybe talk?â
You should say no. You know where this is going, and itâs not fair to Daniel or to yourself or toâ âSure,â you say.
He leads you upstairs, finding an empty bedroom, and closes the door behind you. It muffles the music, making it easier to hear. âBetter?â he asks.
âYeah.â
He sits on the bed and you sit next to him, suddenly very aware that youâre alone together in a bedroom. âCan I ask you something?â Daniel says.
âSure.â
âThat guy you mentioned. The complicated one. Is it⌠are you still involved with him?â
You take another sip of your drink. âI donât know. Maybe. Itâs complicated.â
âDoes he know how you feel?â
âI told him. He made it pretty clear he doesnât feel the same way.â
âThen heâs an idiot.â Daniel shifts closer. âBecause youâre incredible, Y/N. Smart and funny and beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.â
âDanielââ
âI like you,â he says. âI know we just met, and maybe the timing is shit, but I really like you. And if this other guy canât see what he has, thenâŚâ
He trails off, and then heâs leaning in, and you realize heâs going to kiss you. You should stop him. You should explain that youâre not over Jungwon, that youâre not in a place to start something new.
But youâre drunk and hurt and you want to feel wanted by someone who isnât afraid to show it. So you let him kiss you. Itâs nice. Heâs a good kisserâ soft lips, careful hands, nothing likeâ
The door opens. âY/N, Livâs looking forââ Jungwon stops dead in the doorway.
You jerk back from Daniel, but itâs too late. Jungwon saw. And the look on his faceâ betrayal and hurt and anger all mixed togetherâmakes your stomach drop. âJungwonââ
âSorry,â he says, voice tight. âDidnât mean to interrupt.â
Heâs gone before you can say anything else, door slamming behind him. âShit,â you breathe.
âWho was that?â Daniel asks.
âIââ You stand up, suddenly feeling very sober. âI have to go. Iâm sorry.â
âY/N, waitââ But youâre already out the door, pushing through the crowded hallway, trying to find Jungwon. You catch him on the front porch, about to leave.
âJungwon, wait!â He stops, shoulders tense, but doesnât turn around. âItâs notâ that wasnâtââ
âYou donât owe me an explanation,â he says, finally facing you. âYou can kiss whoever you want.â
âIt didnât mean anythingââ
âDidnât it?â His eyes are hard. âLooked like it meant something.â
âI was justâI was upset and drunk and he was thereââ
âAnd I wasnât,â Jungwon finishes. âBecause youâve been avoiding me all week.â
âYou told me you couldnât give me more! What did you expect me to do?â
âI donât know!â Heâs yelling now, and a few people on the porch are staring. âI donât know, Y/N. But I didnât expect you to move on in a fucking week.â
âIâm not moving on! And even if I was, why do you care? You made it clear you donât wantââ
âI never said I didnât wantââ He breaks off, jaw clenched. âFuck.â
âWhat? You never said you didnât want what?â
âYou!â The word explodes out of him. âI never said I didnât want you. I said I couldnât give you more, and thatâs different.â
You stare at him. âWhat are you talking about?â
âIâm talking about the fact that Iâm terrified, okay?â His voice cracks. âIâm terrified because this stopped being casual for me months ago, and I donât know how to do this. I donât know how to be what you need.â
Your heart is pounding so hard you think it might burst out of your chest. âJungwonââ
âI see the way Daniel looks at you. Like youâre everything. And I want to be that guyâ the one who can take you on dates and hold your hand in public and tell everyone youâre mine. But Iâm scared Iâll fuck it up. That Iâll lose you completely.â
âSo instead youâre losing me anyway,â you say quietly. He flinches like you hit him. âIâm falling for you,â you continue, and the words feel like jumping off a cliff. âIâve been falling for you for months. And itâs been killing me because I thought you didnât feel the same way.â
âI do,â he says desperately. âI do feel the same way. I justââ
âYou just what?â
âI donât want to ruin what we have.â
âJungwon, weâve already ruined it. Pretending we can keep things casual when we both feel moreâthatâs whatâs ruining it.â
Heâs quiet for a long moment, and you can see him struggling with something. âIf we do this,â he says finally, âif we make this realâ what if it doesnât work? What if we end up hating each other?â
âWhat if we donât?â you counter. âWhat if itâs amazing?â
âWhat about the group? If things go badââ
âWeâll figure it out. But Jungwon, Iâd rather try and fail than spend the rest of my life wondering what if.â
He looks at you like heâs trying to memorize your face, and thenâ âFuck it,â he mutters, and then heâs kissing you.
Itâs different from every other kiss youâve shared. More desperate, more meaningful. Like heâs pouring everything he couldnât say into it.
When you break apart, youâre both breathless. âSo,â you manage. âDoes this meanââ
âIt means I want to be with you. For real. No more hiding, no more pretending.â He cups your face in his hands. âI want everyone to know youâre mine.â
âEven the group?â
âEspecially the group.â He smiles, and itâs tentative but real. âThey probably already know anyway.â
You laugh, and it feels like relief. âProbably.â
âWhat about Daniel?â
âIâll talk to him. Explain. But Jungwon, thereâs nothing there. Itâs always been you.â
âYeah?â His smile widens.
âYeah.â He kisses you again, softer this time, and you hear whooping from inside the house. You break apart to find half your friend group watching from the windowâReina and Liv and Maya and the guys all grinning like idiots.
âFINALLY!â Reina screams, and everyone laughs. Jungwon pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, and for the first time in weeks, everything feels right.
âSo,â he murmurs against your hair. âWant to get out of here? I think we have some things to talk about.â
âAnd by talk you meanââ
âActually talk,â he says, pulling back to look at you. âWe should probably figure out how to actually do this relationship thing.â
âWe should,â you agree. âBut maybe we can do the talking back at your place? Iâm still kind of drunk and these heels are killing me.â He laughs and takes your handâ openly, for everyone to seeâ and leads you toward his car.
As you leave, you glance back at the house and catch Daniel watching from the doorway. He looks sad but understanding, and he raises his cup in a small salute. You mouth âsorry,â and he nods. Youâll explain everything to him later. Right now, you just want to be with Jungwon.
You wake up to sunlight streaming through Jungwonâs window and his arm draped across your waist. For a moment, you just lie there, listening to his steady breathing, trying to process that this is real now. Youâre actually dating Jungwon. Your phone buzzesâ multiple times. You reach for it and find the group chat exploding.
reina: SO ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT LAST NIGHT OR
maya: I KNEW IT
liv: you all owe me $20 btw
jay: jungwon if you hurt her iâm fighting you
you: good morning to you too
reina: GOOD MORNING??? THATâS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY???
you: yes weâre official
reina: EXTREMELY
you: and weâve been hooking up since that party in august
heeseung: AUGUST?????
reina: I FUCKING KNEW IT
Jungwon stirs beside you, eyes fluttering open. When he sees you, he smilesâ soft and sleepy and genuine. âMorning,â he says, voice rough.
âMorning.â You show him your phone. âWeâre famous.â
He scrolls through, laughing. âTheyâre ridiculous.â
jungwon: iâm not going to hurt her
jay: good
reina: now that thatâs settled TELL US EVERYTHING
The âmandatory celebrationâ ends up being at Jay and Sunghoonâs that evening. By the time you and Jungwon arriveâ together, holding handsâ everyone else is already there. âTHERE THEY ARE!â Reina shouts. âThe happy couple!â
Maya rushes over to hug you. âIâm so happy for you!â
Jake hands you both drinks. âSo, real talk. How long have you actually had feelings for each other?â
âIâve liked her since before we started hooking up,â Jungwon says. âRemember that party in July? When you wore that black dress?â
Your face is burning. âYou never said anything.â
He shrugs. âI didnât think you were interested. And then the bet happened and⌠well, you know the rest.â
âWhat about you?â Liv asks.
âProbably that first morning after,â you admit. âWhen we were texting about the arrangement and he was being all careful. Thatâs when I started thinking he might be different.â
Several drinks later, everyoneâs sprawled around the living room. Youâre tucked into Jungwonâs side on the couch, and it feels so natural. âReal talk,â Jay says, tone serious. âIâm happy for you guys. Butââ He looks at Jungwon. ââyou hurt her, and we have a problem.â
âI know. And Iâm not going to hurt her. Iâmââ He looks at you. ââIâm in love with her.â
The room goes silent. Your heart stops. âWhat?â you whisper.
âIâm in love with you. I have been for a while. I was just too scared to say it.â
âI love you too, you idiot.â Youâre shaking your head. âIâve been in love with you for months.â His smile is brilliant. He kisses you, and this time itâs softer, more tender.
âOkay, weâre leaving,â Reina announces. âBefore this gets too cute.â
After everyone leaves, you and Jungwon stay on the couch. âI meant what I said,â he murmurs. âAbout loving you.â
âI meant it too.â You shift to straddle his lap. âI love you, Jungwon.â
He cuts you off with a kiss. âWant to go home?â
You end up at his place. The second youâre inside, heâs on you, kissing you with urgency. âBedroom,â you gasp.
âToo far.â He lifts you, carries you to the couch. You land in a tangle of limbs, laughing, then his mouth is on your neck. âI love you,â he murmurs.
âShow me,â you challenge.
He does. He takes his time undressing you, kissing every inch of skin. When youâre both finally naked, he hovers over you. âThis is different now. Better,â he says. âI get to keep you.â
âYou always had me.â
âI know. But now I donât have to pretend I donât want forever.â
âForever?â
âToo soon?â
âNo.â You pull him down. âNot too soon.â
He makes love to you slowly, thoroughly. More intimate. More real. Every touch feels like a confession. He enters you with a groan, and you wrap your legs around him. The rhythm is unhurried, sensual. He angles his hips just right, and his hand slides between your bodies to rub your clit. âGod, you feel so perfect,â he breathes. âSo tight and wet for me.â
âJungwonâ fuckâ donât stopââ He doesnât. He keeps that perfect pace until youâre trembling. When you come, clenching around him, he follows right after with a moan of your name.
When youâre both spent on his couch, you feel something settle in your chest. âWe should move to the bed,â he says eventually.
âHeeseungâs going to be home soon.â You gather clothes and make it to his room. âStay,â he says.
âObviously.â You curl into his side. âI love you.â
âI love you too.â
The next morning, you wake to Jungwonâs alarm. Your head is pounding. âTurn it off,â you groan.
âWe have brunch in an hour.â
Forty-five minutes laterâ after a shower where Jungwon pressed you against the tile and made you come on his fingersâ youâre dressed and heading to the diner. You walk in holding hands. The sight of your friend group crammed into booths makes you smile.
âThere they are!â Maya calls. You slide in next to Liv, Jungwon beside you, arm over your shoulders.
âSo,â Sunoo says. âNow that you guys are official, does this mean we have to watch you be gross?â
âWeâre not going to be gross,â you protest.
Jungwon immediately kisses your cheek. âCanât promise that.â
âHow long did you actually know?â you ask.
âI knew from the start,â Liv says. âYouâre my roommate. You think I didnât notice when youâd come home at 3 AM with hickeys?â
The conversation shifts to other topics, and itâs easy. Normal. Like nothingâs changed except now you donât have to hide.
Later that day, youâre back at Jungwonâs, on the couch watching a movie. âCan I ask you something?â he says.
âAlways.â
âWhy did you kiss Daniel?â
âHonestly? I was drunk and hurt and he was there. It was stupid.â
âDid you⌠were you interested in him?â
âNo.â You shift to look at him. âHeâs nice, but I was so hung up on you.â
âGood.â He kisses you. âBecause I was losing my mind.â
âEvery time I was with him, I kept thinking about you.â
âYou have me now.â His arms tighten. âFor as long as you want me.â
âForever, remember?â
âForever,â he agrees.
âWant to order food and spend the rest of the day in bed?â
âIs that code for something?â
âFood, bed, probably some making out, definitely a nap.â
âSounds perfect.â
Later that night, after Chinese food and another round of sexâ with you riding him while he gripped your hips and watched you with dark eyesâ youâre lying in his bed. âThank you,â he says quietly.
âFor what?â
âFor being brave enough to tell me how you felt. I would have lost you if you hadnât.â
âYou wouldnât have lost me. I was too far gone.â
âSpeaking of which,â he says. âYou could just keep some more stuff here. Make it official.â
âJungwon, weâve been officially dating for less than 24 hours.â
âSo? Weâve been unofficially together for months.â
He has a point. âFine. Iâll bring some stuff over tomorrow.â And heâs grinning from ear to ear
Three weeks later, youâre at another partyâ pre-Thanksgiving. This time, everythingâs different. You and Jungwon arrive together, hands intertwined. When he pulls you onto the dance floor, you donât worry about whoâs watching. âHaving fun?â he asks.
âSo much fun.â You loop your arms around his neck. âThis is better than hiding.â
âWay better.â He kisses you.
Later, in the kitchen, Daniel approaches. You havenât really talked since that night. âHey,â he says. âCan we talk?â
âSure.â Jungwon gives your hand a squeeze and steps away.
âI just wanted to say Iâm sorry,â Daniel starts. âFor that night. I shouldnât have kissed you.â
âNo, Iâm sorry. I should have been clearer. It wasnât fair to you.â
âItâs okay. I get it now.â He glances at Jungwon. âThatâs him, right?â
âYeah. Not so complicated anymore.â
âGood. You seem happy.â
âI am. Really happy.â You hesitate. âAre we okay?â
âWeâre okay. Friends?â
âFriends,â you agree.
He leaves, and Jungwon returns to your side. âThat looked like it went well.â
âIt did.â You lean into him. âEverythingâs good.â
âYeah,â he agrees. âEverythingâs really good.â
You stay like that, watching your friends scattered aroundâ your family. And Jungwon, solid and warm behind you. âI love you,â you say.
âI love you too.â He kisses your neck. âWant to get out of here?â
âAnd do what?â
âGo back to my place. Watch a movie. Make out. Order food. Fall asleep together. All the boring couple stuff.â
âThat sounds perfect.â You say goodbye to your friends and head out.
âYour place or mine?â Jungwon asks.
âYours. I already have a toothbrush there.â
He grins. âLook at us, being all domestic.â
âItâs disgusting.â
âYou love it.â
âI really do.â
As he drives through the quiet streets, his hand finds yours, and you think about how different things were just months ago. When you were both pretending, both scared, both holding back. And now youâre here. Together. For real. âWhat are you thinking about?â Jungwon asks.
âJust⌠how happy I am. How glad I am that we figured this out.â
âMe too.â He brings your joined hands up to kiss your knuckles. âBest decision I ever made.â
âProving you could make me come?â
He laughs. âNo. Although that was a good decision too. I meant taking a chance on this. On us.â
âWe both took a chance.â
âAnd it paid off.â
âYeah,â you agree softly. âIt really did.â
Back at his apartment, you fall into your routineâ changing into his drawer of your clothes, brushing teeth side by side, collapsing onto his bed. âMovie?â he asks.
âSure. Nothing too intense though.â He puts on a comedy, and you curl into his side. This is your favorite part. Not the sexâ though thatâs amazingâ but this. The quiet moments. The casual intimacy.
âHey Y/N?â Jungwon says softly.
âHmm?â
âIâm really glad youâre mine.â
You lift your head. âIâm glad Iâm yours too. And that youâre mine.â
âAlways,â he promises, and kisses you.
Lying there in his arms, warm and safe and loved, you believe him. This is just the beginning. And you canât wait to see where it goes.
SUMMARY: Ever since your boyfriend Jake transformed from his nerdy high-school self into the university's star football player, you've become everything you thought youâd never be. Jealous. Anxious. Clingy. But Jake really doesn't mind your newfound possessiveness. He encourages it, even. So when he defies expectations again to star in a musical with a stunning costar, you spiral. Now, the âlowkeyâ relationship you once insisted on gets jeopardized under the weight of your own insecurities.
PAIRING: popular!jake x fem!reader
WORD COUNT:Â 26k+
GENRE: secret!relationship au, university!au, grumpy gf x sunshine bf (?), smut, angst, fluff, some toxic themes
WARNINGS: mdni, nsfw, porn with plot, tsundere!reader, lowkey crazy!reader, whipped!Jake, lowkey masochist!bf Jake, switch!Jake, emotional constipation, he want that cookie bad, jealousy, avoidancy, football = soccer, unsafe/unprotected sex, cursing, sweat, dacryphilia, storage closet sex, lots of biting/marking, 69, cumplay, jewelry play, begging, failed pull-out method, creampie, squirting, lmk if i missed anything
A/N: Not to pick a favorite child but⌠I loved writing this fic so much.Â
a year ago.
Itâs the last year of high school, on a relatively normal walk back home. The same cracked sidewalks, the same autumn breeze, the same shy boy matching his steps beside you like he always did. Just like any other day.Â
Until he decided to ruin it.
âDo you wanna⌠like, date?â Jake asked suddenly, hands shoved deep into his uniform pants pockets, trying too hard to sound nonchalant. âYou know⌠put a label on us. Or whatever.â
You remember almost running away out of pure instinct, soul escaping your body. But instead, you laughed. Because what the fuck was he on about?
You? Jake? Date?
The two of you were barely even supposed to be friends. He's a straight-A student teachers constantly compared you to, with those thick-rimmed black glasses glued to his face and unkempt bowl of hair. A striker on the football team who watched matches from the sidelines just as much as you did⌠and you weren't on the team.
And on the other hand, thereâs you. Not-so-pleasant you. Considered a troublemaker because you always showed up late to class, talked back to ill-meaning adults, and picked fights with boys who catcalled too much. A rumor spread through school that your dad was a terrifying loan shark with gang ties. Heâs a banker.
Assigned classroom cleaning duties was what brought you two together in the first place. It wasnât fate. Nothing notable. You more or less picked him up on your shoulder and claimed him as a personal assistant. Someone who would fetch you water when youâre thirsty or give you answers to math problems when you were too lazy to solve them yourself.Â
So why in the world did he think you two should date?
âWho put you up to this?â you wheezed between bursts of cackling. âIâm gonna beat their ass.â
Jake scratched the back of his head, clearly not amused.
âI mean⌠You and me?â you continued, tears of laughter blurred your vision. âWe would make the worst couple everââ
âI donât think so.â
You froze mid-step. Jake had slowed his strides down a long time ago, but now he was completely still. You turned to find him a few steps behind, face flushed and hands by his sides.Â
Heâs holding something. A small, turquoise box. One that looked suspiciously likeâŚ
You felt like throwing up.
âI-Iâve been thinking about it for a while,â he stammered. âWhat itâd be like if I were your boyfriend. If we⌠went on dates and stuff.â
Oh, hell no.
Itâs like an immediate sense of panic overcame your body. And before your brain could process a single rational thought, you broke out into a sprint. Running down the street like a maniac. In hindsight, you probably shouldâve known that you couldnât outrun an athlete. But you werenât really thinking, period.Â
You feel a tug on your waist. Jake had already caught up to you. He spun you around, like the male leads do in those stupid romcoms, and pulled you into him. His face was close. Too close. His glasses slipped halfway down his nose, and a bead of sweat clung to his temple. And it wasnât from running.
It was from you.
He looked nervous. Ridiculously nervous.
The ring box pressed into your back, and you put your palms sternly against his chest, trying to create some distance between you two. It wasnât helping.
âJake,â you warned. âLet go of me or I scream.â
He shook his head, his arms only wrapped tighter around you. âOnly if you promise you wonât run,â he replied, a sort of desperation laced in his voice. âAnd that youâll listen to what I have to say.â
You bit your bottom lip, suddenly too aware of his intense gaze and how they searched yours through those big, fat lenses. You gave a small nod, not trusting your voice to come out right. The moment his grip loosened, you broke your agreement almost immediately. Your feet moved on their own, like fight-or-flight, as you tried to rush out of his arms. But he was one step ahead of you, grabbing your wrist to bring you back right where you were.
âReally?â he asked, exhausted. âThatâs not gonna work a second time.â
You glared, but your eyes betrayed you. They slid down to the turquoise ring box, still in his hand. Jake's eyes flickered in the same direction, clearing his throat awkwardly.Â
âI can put it away if itâs freaking you out,â he muttered, slipping it back into his pocket. You almost let out a sigh of relief, but not when his large hand was still wrapped around your wrist.
â...Thank you,â you mumbled, eyes fixed on the ground. âNow make it quick.â
Jake's heart constricted. âThe worst thing she could say is no!â the internet had told him. This was a lot worse, actually!
â[Y/N],â he started sharply, and the sound of your name on his lips sent shivers down your spine. He released you, only to set both his hands on your shoulders, guiding your gaze up to meet his.
âI⌠I thinkââ He stopped, inhaling a deep breath. âNo. I know. I⌠really⌠really⌠l-like you.â
His voice was as shaky as his hands, and for a brief second, almost every part of you wanted to knock him out with your backpack because your heart was beating too loud in your chest. It pissed you off. But you held back and just⌠stared.
Jake, ever the hopeless romantic, had fallen for you the moment you asked him to clean the entire classroom alone while you skipped duties to hang out with your friends. He said yes, only because he has a hard time saying no, especially to someone he found so pretty. But then you laughed and told him you were joking. Told him not to bend over backwards just to please other people. Spent time with him that day when usually, others paid him no attention.
He was enamored ever since.Â
But the silence between you two was suffocating, heavy enough to stall his breathing. Jakeâs palms were growing damp against the fabric of your uniform blazer, and his heart felt like it was ready to fall to the floor. Maybe this was a bad time to do it. Or maybe the ring really freaked you out. Was it too big a gesture? The WikiHow tutorial he consulted had told him to bring a gift, after all.Â
âHello?â Jakeâs voice cut through your thoughts. He gave your shoulders a tiny shake, trying to pull you out of your entranced state.
âHm? Sorry⌠say that again? I donât think I heard youâŚâ
Jakeâs expression fell as he dropped his hands back to his sides in defeat.
âOkay,â he muttered, voice small. It wasnât worth it. Everything went off script anyway. âNever mind. Pretend I didnât say anything.â
He brushed past you, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his pockets again. He was fidgeting with the ring box, wishing he could throw it into the nearest bushes. God, he felt dumb. So fucking dumb.
Of course youâd say no! He was nobody. Just Jake. Just some guy you latched onto at the start of high school so you could poke fun at him for the next few years and make him pay for your boba addiction. And you, with your cool-ass friends with eyebrow slits and really underground music tastes. Youâre way out of his leagueâ
âJake,â you called out, surprised at how loud your voice could get if you were desperate.Â
He turned around immediately, wearing such a pronounced pout even from a few meters away. Somehow, seeing his face again made your throat close up. He liked you. He really liked you.
âSay it again,â you demanded, arms crossed with doubt written all over your features. âI need to hear you say it one more time.â
You walked toward him until you stood close enough to see the nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth. Was this it? Would you actually give him a chance? Jake pressed his lips together and inhaled a deep breath to calm himself.Â
âI like you,â he said as softly as a whisper. âWould you⌠Be my girlfriend?â
You looked at the ground, feigning a calmness when your mind was racing with thoughts too insane to vocalize. When you finally looked up again, your heart betrayed you. It skipped a beat at the way his gaze fell on yours, wide and hopeful. It almost hurt. He was too bright, too cute.
(Okay, so what if you liked him back. He didnât have to know that.)
âSure,â you said, forcing your voice to sound casual. Jake froze.
Then his entire face lit up. Suddenly, he was grinning from ear to ear, jumping in place like a dog begging for a treat. âReally? Like really? Youâll go out with me?!â
He took your hands in his, tenderly. Like he wasn't entirely sure the moment was real. You felt the dampness of his palms first, then the tug of his fingers intertwining with yours, like he had already rehearsed this part of his confession a thousand times in his head. Your cheeks warmed.
âWhat a weirdo,â you thought to yourself. Itâs not like heâd just won the lottery. What was he so happy about?
âJust donât make it weird,â you grumbled. âKeep it on the down low.â
Jakeâs smile faltered, brows knitting together so tightly you were sure itâd leave a wrinkle on his cute face.
âLike⌠you donât want people to know?â he asked, voice quieter now. You nodded, confused by his confusion.Â
âWhy would anyone need to know?â you asked genuinely. He frowned, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, silently asking you to reconsider.
âNot even Sunghoon or Jay?â
You scoffed. âEspecially Sunghoon and Jay.â
âWhy not?â he groaned. You just shrugged.
âI donât want our dynamic to change just âcause weâre dating,â you reassured him, letting go of his hands to ruffle his hair. Like you always do when you tease him. Like that would make it all better. âAnd all that coupley PDA stuff draws too much attention anyway.â
Youâd spent years cultivating your intimidating persona, and in your mind, it was simple. No one else needed to know that you were vulnerable to something as cringe-inducing as dating. The other students would only use it against you. For what? Who knows.
But you could just imagine the teasing glances and whispers in the hallways. If Jake were really serious about dating you, surely heâd be understanding of your aversion towards embarrassment. Right?
He didn't seem entirely convinced. At all. âSo⌠what would be the difference then? Between us now and before?âÂ
You sighed and stepped past him.
âIt's what we'd do in private, you know?â you muttered over your shoulder. âKissing and all thatâŚâ
You didnât see it, how Jakeâs ears completely reddened or how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His fingers twitched at his side, like he was already imagining what itâd be like to hold you properly. To touch you. To kiss you. Like real couples do.
âD-do you want to see the ring I got you?â he blurted out, catching up to you. âI swear itâs lowkey. It has a âJâ engraved inside the band. I got a matching one with your initial, too! No one would even notice if you wore itââ
And you feel your heart thunder in your chest, scaring you into another sudden sprint. âGet the hell away from me, weirdo!âÂ
Your joined laughter echoed down the street as he chased after you. And even though he could catch up to you, he let you have your fun, staying just a little out of his reach.
â
Jake is very good at obeying orders, always has been. Especially after the first few times you glared at him for accidentally reaching for your hand in the cafeteria. He learned fast.
He tried his best not to show affection publicly, no matter how badly he wanted to wrap his blazer around your shivering frame when you would nap during class. He forced himself not to linger near you when you were loitering with your fellow delinquents by the school staircase, laughing at a joke he didnât quite understand. He suppressed the urge to defend you from teachers who reprimanded you out in the hallways. Tried not to look behind at you for too long during football games he never played in anyway.
Once, someone asked him about his love life, and he instantly turned into a blushing, mumbling mess. And they laughed it off. It was Jake. No one thought twice. He was always like this. Awkward. Flustered.
The parasites he calls friends, Jay and Sunghoon, would probably go into cardiac arrest if they ever found out how he doted on you in private. How soft he was. How gentle.
You pretended not to notice. But ever the observer, Jake sees how your defenses weaken, ever so slightly, each day.
You let him put his arm around you in dark movie theaters instead of yanking it away. Let him stay for dinner with your parents when he comes over to help you study (because lord knows you need it). You stopped flinching when he called you âbabeâ in private, sometimes responding without even questioning who he was speaking to. It was baby steps, but to Jake, it was everything.
Was it awkward? Yes. The way his glasses got in the way when he finally kissed you for the first time. Your noses bumped together. Too much tongue involved. It was a mess. Still life-changing, nevertheless.Â
He replays the memory often. The two of you on your bed, him holding your plushie hostage, you trying to rip it out of his arms. The way you fell on top of him with your lips accidentally crashing on his. He pretended like the make-out session that occurred immediately after didn't absolutely ruin him.
Jake edged past the warmer parts of you when no one was around to bear witness. And you both were so good at keeping secrets. No one would have believed it anyway. Youâd made sure of that.
â
âYou two are very strange,â Jay commented, maybe a couple of months into your secret relationship. Every senior was gearing up for graduation, choosing which universities to attend or which path to take in life.
And of course, Jay and Sunghoon found out that Jake and you would both be attending the same university. Not just any school. A top one. Yonsei.Â
Jake had earned a full-ride scholarship after finally getting off the damn bench and scoring four goals in a single match against the best high school team in the nation. Jake could've gone abroad to an Ivy League, but he chose not to. Because at Yonsei he could visit family more often, save a lot of money, and⌠well, keep you close, most of all.
And by the will of a higher being (Jakeâs relentless tutoring), you somehow made it in as well.
âI thought you said you wanted to go straight into the workforce,â Jay questioned you. âNow youâre telling me you somehow, in some way, got into the same school as Jake? This fucking nerd?â
Sunghoon chimed in with a smile he always wore before teasing you. âI didnât even think you could get into college, honestly.â
You wanted to hit him so bad, but you stopped yourself. Your resolution for the new school year was to turn over a new leaf. And that comes with not hitting annoying boys over the head with your fist. You could get arrested for that from now on... So instead, you used your words.
âYouâre mad I got in, and you didnât,â you snorted, sticking out your tongue as Jake snickered beside you. You sat close enough to feel the warmth of his shoulder, but far enough apart to keep Jay and Sunghoon from noticing.
âYou guys have no faith in her,â Jake sighed earnestly. âSheâs really smart when she applies herself. She just needed a push, that's all.â
You glared at him, not sure if his comment was entirely a compliment. Yes, he played a role in your achievements. No, he could not credit himself for the hard work you put in to get that high-ass score on the college entrance exam. Even your teachers apologized for doubting you.
âShouldâve put those hours of tutoring her into me instead,â Jay groaned. âNow youâre gonna be all alone with no friends.â
Jakeâs brows furrowed. âWhat do you mean? S-sheâs my friend.â
He stumbled over the words, clearly thrown off by the ominous comment. You watched him, amused. God, he was so obvious.
Sunghoon just looked between you two, doubt etched all over his face. âBarely,â he scoffed. âTrust me, bro, you are getting left behind as soon as she finds another victim willing to pay for all her food.â
You can start your resolution next week. This time, you really smacked him, sharp on his bicep. Sunghoon yelped.
âWhy are you always so aggressive?â he whined, rubbing the sore spot with his arm. You raised your hand threateningly again, but you stopped yourself short.Â
At the corner of your eye was Jakeâs soured expression, a flash of worry obviously overcoming him. But you couldnât comfort him. Not now. You wouldnât hear the end of it from these two.
âYou never know,â Jay chirped, faking thoughtfulness with a hand on his chin. âJake might be too cool for us once school starts.â
Jay and Sunghoon exchanged a look and then burst into laughter.
âAinât gonna happen!â Sunghoon cackled, putting his whole gut into it. You joined in hesitantly, though your eyes kept drifting to your sullen boyfriend. And he wasnât amused. Not at all.
Because he never found it funny, the idea of you leaving him behind.
â
âDo you think Iâm weird?â Jake asked one evening, with you curled up beside him on your bed. Your knee draped over his stomach, his glasses pushed up just enough to rest comfortably against your pillow. On his late-night visits, your parents would come in to check if you two were truly studying as you claimed. After Jake gained their trust, they learned to leave the two of you alone (when they probably shouldnât have).
Your eyes were shut tight to prepare yourself for an oncoming nap.
âYes,â you said quickly, not even giving him time to process the response.
âLike⌠bad weird?â he asked after a second. Heâd been thinking lately, after the conversation with his friends, how different the two of you really were.
How easy it was for you to stand up for yourself. Go against the grain. How you donât automatically default to nods as he does or lose your train of thought mid-conversation. How you hated being touched by most people but would smack someoneâs shoulder when you genuinely found something funny.Â
He wanted that, wanted to see the world the way you saw it. To move around without hesitation. Even when people called you a troublemaker. Even when teachers scolded you for wearing your uniform skirt shorter than the dress code. How was confidence so natural for you?
âBad weird,â you teased, eyes still closed. âBut itâs okay. Iâm used to it by now.â
A small ache tugged at his heart. âYou still like me though, right?â
You laughed. Jake loved to do this sometimes. Bait for reassurance. But youâre not that kind of fish.
âWho said I ever did?â
You said it jokingly, but a silence followed. You donât quite catch it as you drift to sleep, the way Jakeâs eyes dimmed.
âOh,â he said disappointingly, staring at the ceiling.
Sometimes, he wondered if the reason you wanted your relationship to be private in the first place was because of him. If his inability to relate to your friends with secret tattoos and chains on their jeans made you embarrassed to be his girlfriend.Â
Because you got along well with his friends just fine, could tease Jay and Sunghoon like youâd known them your whole life. But it was so hard for him to do the same with yours. To look natural when he joined that one karaoke hangout, where they looked at him expectantly because you had bragged that he could sing well.
You said it so proudly too, and he wanted to prove himself to them. That he was worthy to be in their presence. And then his voice had to crack.
âShould we get your friend some water?â someone joked, and the whole group laughed. With his cheeks red with embarrassment, Jake sat back down next to you, silent for the rest of the night. It was lame of him. Even he knew that.Â
But even as he watched you defend him with all your heart, he couldnât find himself to cheer up. Because in your world, he had always felt out of place.Â
â
And so Jake did what heâs known to do best. Research.
He avoided WikiHow tutorials on how to ask out a girl and headed straight to the most honest part of the internet: Reddit.
âmakeover tips for guysâ
âhow to gain more confidenceâ
âhow to be attractive enough that your girlfriend isnât ashamed of you (serious responses only pls)â
He frequented the self-help section of the school library, took notes on everything from fashion advice to fixing his posture. He practiced eye contact with himself through the mirror until they watered, joined Sunghoon in the gym, and copied his weirdly intense routine.
Jake kept this process all to himself, much like your relationship. He learned to be good at that. Keeping secrets.
He would reinvent himself for university. Become someone youâd be proud to show off because he didnât want to feel like this anymore. Like he would fall behind. And knowing you⌠he wasnât sure if youâd bother to look back and see if your loyal puppy was still there trailing behind you.Â
â
present.Â
So thatâs how your relationshipâs been going so far. While Jake was on this great journey to undergo metamorphosis, there were no real complaints on your side.
So why was it like this now?Â
Waiting for your very late boyfriend, who was making you miss the first minutes of the universityâs freshman orientation ceremony. You almost text him a paragraph about how, usually, you're the unpunctual one in the relationship, but a stranger approaches you.
âBOO!âÂ
You almost let out a scream when you notice who it is. Or who you think it is. Is it who you think it is?
Because instead of wild, unruly hair hiding his eyebrows and big black frames resting on his nose bridge, your boyfriend looked like someone else entirely. His hair was styled in a middle part, framing his handsome features perfectly. Instead of his usual oversized hoodie with holes on the sleeves masking his athletic body, heâs wearing a varsity jacket and a simple white shirt that clung way too well to his muscular frame. You could even see the faint outline of contact lenses in the whites of his eyes.
Your eyelashes flutter in confusion. You literally just saw him yesterday. When did he find the time to get a haircut and invest in a new closet?
Jake steps forward with a small, hopeful smile and holds out a box of egg tarts. Did it add to his already late ETA? Yes, but he always thinks about you and what you'd like to eat. Could you blame him for getting you a sweet treat?
But that wasnât the part you were really focused on.
âWho are you and what did you do to Jake?â you ask, fists raised like a boxer. He chuckles nervously, bringing the pastry box back to his side.
âDo I look weird?â he asks quietly, shifting his feet. The vulnerability in his voice made you lower your hands instantly.
âSoâŚâ you start, eyes looking him up and down. âThis is on purpose? Like, Sunghoon didnât put you up to this? Or Jay?â
He pouts. His mom practically screamed, âSo handsome!â when he showed her his new look over video call. So, why was your reaction like this?Â
âI just thought⌠new school year, new me! No?â he says, puffing up with pride.
You shake your head, moving your hand on instinct to ruffle his freshly styled hair. But he catches your wrist before you can touch him. You pull away, heart squeezing a bit, knowing that he dodged one of your rare bouts of affection. Or whatever you call it.
âIt took me forever to get my hair to look like this,â he mutters, looking away. âDonât want my hard work to go to waste.â
You click your tongue, trudging past him. Since when did he care about what his hair looked like? This was the same guy who showed up to graduation with a T-shirt and sneakers and got confused when the teachers asked him to go back home and change.
âWhatever,â you sigh. âNo more standing around. We have to goââ
âStill not wearing the ring?â he asks, catching up to you. He noticed it earlier when he caught your arm.Â
When Jake gave it to you just a year before, he set no expectation for you to wear it. He really hadnât⌠But it has been a year. Wasnât it about time? He wears his everydayâŚ
You suck in your teeth and glare at him. âWhy would I?âÂ
He flinches. And you start to feel guilt bubbling in your chest as his steps start slowing next to you.
âItâs justâŚâ he mumbles. âItâs not like weâre in high school anymore. No oneâs even gonna notice. And no oneâs gonna care if weâre dating.â
You roll your eyes. You care. You still had a reputation to uphold. Maybe not as a troublemaker anymore. But still. Something about wearing your boyfriendâs ring for everyone to see and question seemed like your own personal hell. Who would want to be the center of attention as a university freshman?
âItâs the principle,â you say, not really knowing what you mean by it either. Because you are wearing it. Just not on your finger. It hangs around your neck, hidden underneath your blouse. But Jake didnât have to know that.
You would rather die than give anyone the satisfaction of knowing you were smitten with this man. Soft, but only for him. Your biggest weakness.
âSo are we always just gonna be a secret?â he sighs. You turn to face him, but you keep it pushing. Itâs too much to explain right now. Or ever.
âCome on,â you insist. âWe need to get to the orientation.â
â
Indeed, it wasnât high school anymore. Because everywhere you turn, Jakeâs name is being brought up.
âThe hot guy on the football teamââ
âHe set the curve on the first exam and proved Professor Kim wrong on the boardââ
âI saw him help a grandma cross the street. Soooo dreamyââ
It was enough to almost make you pull your hair out of your head. This was Jake they were talking about! The guy who was too shy to ask for no pickles in his damn burgers, who used to let Sunghoon copy off his homework and then rewrote his own just to make sure the teachers wouldnât catch on. This was your Jake.
You take a moment to breathe.
You sound crazy. Deranged, even. It shouldnât even matter. Jake was always good-looking! People just never noticed or took the time to appreciate him outside of his ability to decode the most difficult of physics equations.
âA couple of guys from the team think Iâd look good with a sweatband,â he says, showing you a photo during a late-night walk. Heâs shoving his phone screen to your face, and you pout at the sight. His hair pushed back, forehead glistening. A perfect view of his beautiful, dark eyes.Â
âNah,â you say dismissively, trying to push down the fluttering in your heart. He tilts his head, staring at the photo once more.
âReally?â he mutters. âI thought it looked pretty good.â
âDo you really wanna look like Jay in junior year? Heâs gonna tell you that you copied him.â
He gives a small sound of acknowledgement. You could tell heâs taking your comment seriously, like you said something truly eye-opening.
âYouâre right,â he nods. âThen, how do you feel about a lip piercing?â
Your brows furrow at the thought of metal against his pouty lips. The way his teeth would tug on it. The effect he would have on all of his newfound admirersâŚ
âAbsolutely not!âÂ
Yeah, you were losing it.
â
No, really, you might actually be going insane.
It was hard enough for you to create genuine friendships at Yonsei, full of stuck-up rich kids who only managed to get in through elite cram schools and expensive tutors. But after a few polite conversations, their masks fell to show their true intentions. You know now that you are being used as a shortcut to get on Jakeâs radar.Â
Because why do people youâve never met before suddenly feel comfortable enough to ask you to introduce them to him? Why do they request to follow you on Instagram only so they can find his account more easily? And what pisses you off mostâthe question they always ask, without fail: âIs he single?â
And you know there's a quick answer you can give. A very simple solution to your eye-twitching problem. Because every time someone high-fives him in the corridors or bats their eyelashes flirtatiously in his direction, you have the overwhelming urge to just pounce on him. To wrap your arms around his middle and never let him leave your sight.Â
But you canât. Your pride is too big, your ego too fragile to admit that someone actually managed to slip past the cold exteriors of your heart. So instead, you're waiting impatiently for him to reply to your text.
He's not at practice. He's supposed to be on his way. So where the hell was he?
jake: sorry! study group went for a lil bit longer than I thought. everyone kept asking me for help haha. omw!
And then he sends a photo. It's a group selfie, with him in the middle. Three girls on his right and another two on his left, surrounding him like a piece of meat.
you: dont bother coming. im sick.
With envy, maybe. But you're perfectly healthy.
jake: im sorry babe :( you feeling okay? want me to get you anything from the store?
you: Nah.
You almost scream. There's so much you want to say and admit, but your fingers wonât type any of it. You really don't deserve him. He's so nice, and you're so⌠Fuck.
Why is it so hard to admit to your own boyfriend that you miss him?!
jake: ok :( I love you!
Your stomach flips.
Haha⌠You needed professional help. Really.
â
Jake was better at football than the bench in high school ever suggested. Senior hierarchy was everything at Yonsei. A starter as a freshman was practically unheard of before Jake. How he managed to level up from being a designated benchwarmer to being on the field at all times felt like whiplash.
Did he just have this in him this whole time?
I mean, you guess he looked kind of cool out there, all sweaty and serious-looking. Shouting call-outs to his team mid-game. Your legs squirm at the sight. He really needs to put on his damn glasses. (Though knowing you, that might only make things worse.)
You sit there, wearing the university colors of white and blue, holding onto a sign that says âGo Team!â
You would have made something with his name on it, but the thought alone sends shivers down your spine. You could not bear to give the stupid boys beside you the ammo of watching you scream Jakeâs name and go crazy over his goals. So instead, you silently watch and admire as he steals the ball yet again.
Jay and Sunghoon, decked out in the rival schoolâs signature red for no reason whatsoever (they donât even attend that university either), stood on either side of you with a level of passion youâve never seen from them before.
âGET HIS ASS!â Jay screams. âPlay the mental game! When Player 15 cries, he calls his mom firstââ
Player 15 would happen to be Jake.
âThe guy with âSimâ in the back of his jersey loves to sing Celine Dion in the showerââ
You groan as heads turn, not enjoying the various glares and snide remarks from your surrounding schoolmates. You still haven't made any substantial friends yet at university. Being associated with these bozos would only make it that much harder. This would be the last time you sneak them into the student section.Â
âCan you two please sit down?â you mutter. âWeâre ahead by like four goals. Psychological warfare is not enough for Jake to lose.â
Sunghoon drops back into his seat with a huff, cracking his neck.
âThis wonât do,â he mutters. âJakeâs gonna surpass me in Instagram followers if he wins this.â
Jay chuckles on your left side, still standing and selfishly blocking the view of everyone behind him. âIf he wins, you think heâll invite us to their celebration party after?â
Your brows furrow. âWhat party?â
Jay finally sits down when the opposing team calls a time-out, one eyebrow raised at your confused expression. âIsnât that like a thing every school does? First big game of the year, thereâs bound to be something.â
Sunghoon nods in agreement. âYeah, thatâs like common knowledge.â
You almost pout before catching yourself. Jake never mentioned anything about a party.Â
So when the game ended and, of course, Yonsei won, the two boys could not help but ask.Â
âSo thereâs a party, right?â
âAnd youâre taking us?â
Jake looks between the two of them, forehead glistening and hair damp with sweat.
âWhat party?â he asks, and you smile gingerly. Thatâs right! You werenât crazy. He wouldâve told you if there wasâ
âYou have to go to the party, Jakey!â a voice chirps from behind you.
You recognize her. The team manager of the football team. Short hair and a cute button nose. Very pretty. Your eyes cut between Jake and her. Wait.
Jakey? Who the hell calls him that?
Jay and Sunghoon give each other some shifty glances and step aside, letting the girl join the conversation. You feel this weird inclination to move closer to Jake, but you suppress the urge.Â
âHm?â Jake finally replies, confused more than ever. âNo one told me about a party.â
The girl giggles. What even was her name?
âOh, Jakey! Since youâre a freshman, Iâll give you the rundown.âÂ
She scooches in between you two, pushing you slightly to the side. The boys donât seem to notice, and you have half your sense not to shove the girl right back.
âWhenever we win,â she starts, âthe whole school goes to En Bar nearby and takes it over! Free drinks and everything. Youâre our star player, so you definitely canât miss it. Your friends are invited too, of course.â
She looks between Jay and Sunghoon, not even sparing you a glance.
Jake scratches the nape of his neck. âSorry, Iâm actually feeling pretty tiredââÂ
âWeâll be there!â Jay and Sunghoon say instantly. You raise your eyebrow at them, and the two brush it off.
âWeâll make sure he comes,â Jay laughs, slapping Jake hard on the shoulder. Having gotten hit by the ball in that exact spot just an hour before, he winces.
âIâm not reallyââ
âGreat!â the girl smiles, clapping her hands together. âIâll see you all there then?âÂ
Of course, her back is fully turned towards you. Dumb and dumber nod in unison, and as the girl walks off, they push at each other excitedly.
âFirst college party,â they cry out in joy.
âOh my god,â you mutter. âYou two are pathetic.â
Jake nods slowly in agreement. âWell⌠you guys have fun. I think Iâm just gonna head back to my dorm and showerâŚâ
âAnd get ready, right?â Sunghoon says dangerously, wagging a finger at him. âBecause you are coming, right?â
Jake shivers under his friendsâ threatening glares. But what really scares him is when his eyes find yours. You look pissed. Fuck. What did he do this time?
âI mean⌠I guess I could pop inâŚâ Jake says reluctantly. He sneaks in another glance in your direction and sees that your frown grows even deeper. Was that the wrong thing to say?
âBabe?â Jake calls after you as you stride across campus, shivering in your t-shirt and mini skirt. âWhy are you walking so fast?â
Itâs dark now, save for the dim street lamps. You stop abruptly, and he almost bumps into you. When you turn, your jaw is already clenched.
âAm I crazy, or did that girl just completely ignore me?â you ask genuinely, voice at the seams of losing composure. Because what the fuck was her problem?
Jake laughs nervously. âChoa? I thought she seemed pretty friendly?â
Your expression sours. âYeah, maybe a little too friendly,â you say under your breath. Jake catches it.
âWait,â he says with a shit-eating grin, leaning in. âBabe⌠are you jealous? Hm?â
Your cheeks heat up, arms crossing like a toddler. âFuck off.â
He laughs now, twisting you around and guiding you forward with an arm around your shoulder. âYouâve got nothing to worry about, babeeeeâŚâ
He notices how you donât pull away from his touch, when normally you would hiss something like, âpeople are watching,â or something like that. Jake bites back an even bigger smile. You just let him hold you.
The walk to his dorm was peachy for him, save for the fact that his sweaty arm stank up your shirt.
You! Jealous. This has to be a dream. When you reach his room, shared with a sophomore named Heeseung who never seems to be around, you sit on Jakeâs bed, still reeling from the earlier interaction.
âAm I overreacting?â you ask him, not at all bothered that he was taking his jersey off. Youâre well past the stage of pretending his bare torso flusters you. âLike⌠did it not seem like she wanted you?â
Jake laughs, wiping his underarms with a nearby towel. âMe? Babe, no. Thatâs out of the question. She's like four years older than usââ
You roll your eyes. âSo where the fuck did âJakeyâ come from?â
He shrugs, catching his reflection in the wall mirror hanging on his door. His muscles flex in a way that makes your eyes travel down his well-toned backâŚ
You snap your gaze back to the wall. No. Focus. Youâre supposed to be mad.
âNew year, new nickname?â he offers, teasingly.
You throw a pillow at his head. Like the athlete he is, Jake dodges it. He turns to you, laughing, amused by how sulky and adorable you look on his bed. Brows furrowed in contemplation, tugging your legs close to your chest. Your plush thighs in your pretty little skirt that would have gotten you dress-coded back in high school with your knee-high socks andâŚ
Fuck.Â
âItâs not like I care,â you mumble, unconvincingly.Â
Jake huffs out something that sounds like a chuckle, but his thoughts are elsewhere. His mind (and eyes) are on the edge of your skirt. He places a hand on your thigh and rubs it softly. To you, it felt like reassurance, and it was. But he was also incredibly horny.
âBabe,â his words drawl. âLook at me.â
Your eyes meet his for a split second before he plants a wet kiss on your cheek. âHeyââ
He chuckles as he plants another on your nose. Then your chin. And then your other cheek. And now youâre trying to push him away, but he holds your wrists to prevent you from stopping his incessant attacks.Â
âJakeâYou stinkâFreak!â You try to say as his lips find yours, while heâs giggling up a storm. So cute. You're so fucking cute.Â
His next kiss is deep, drawing out your breath sharply. Your back is on the bed now with Jake on top, his hands still wrapped around your wrists.
Jakeâs lips move against yours, your eyes fluttering shut. His tongue prods and pushes in, his taste so sweet and heavy as you breathe in his weirdly intoxicating scent. Like fresh laundry doused in the salt of his sweat. You clench his biceps as he comes up from the kiss to catch some air.
He looks at you, face flushed and mouth parted.Â
âIâm hard,â he blurts out, and you smack him on his naked chest.
âWhat do you want me to do about that?â you mutter as you start to feel him press against your stomach. âDonât you have a party to go to?â
He shakes his head, burying his face in your hair. He lets out a groan, grinding onto you just to feel any part of you against his football shorts. You let out a squeak, clenching at his toned muscles harder.
âYouâre not coming with?â he asks, and you can hear the shakiness in his breath. You smirk, wrapping your legs around him and shifting up so that his tent could meet your core. Jake fit between you so snugly.
His head lifts to meet yours, pupils already so dilated.
âWhy would I?â you say through hooded eyes, and you could visibly see him gulp. It almost makes you laugh. But instead, you tease him, moving your hips up to graze his bulge.Â
âI have time,â he groans quickly. âFor this. Or whatever you want to do. Like Iâm really down for anyââ
You roll your eyes, gripping the back of his head to smash him back down to your lips. Your movements are messy, tongues clashing at a feverish pace. Heâs still sore from earlier, but like hell he would let this opportunity go. Not when you looked this fucking good. And angry too. (For him, these things arenât mutually exclusive...)
With trembling fingers, he lifts your shirt and almost moans at the sight of your bare skin. While he wants to thank you for saving him the trouble of not fiddling with a bra clasp, you pat yourself on the back for leaving your necklace at home.
Knowing how frisky Jake gets after the adrenaline of a good win runs through him, it was the right call. You donât think you could handle Jake seeing you so jealous while having his ring resting on your chest. Yeah, youâd probably die right in front of him.
His hands grab your tits softly, massaging them between his fingers. Jake dips down, swallowing a nipple in his mouth as he watches you sigh out in pleasure.
Heâs confident in one thing when it comes to you, and it was this right here. He could make your tough exterior melt just as long as you were under him. Or over him. He has no preference.
His tongue circles your bud, tugging with his teeth lightly.Â
âJakeââ When he hears you squeak, his dick twitches with anticipation. So pliant now. What happened to that dominance earlier? Heâd like to see it come backâŚ
He moves on to the other breast, licking and massaging so it doesn't feel too neglected. Jake loves your tits, could be buried between them for the rest of his life if you let him. But now isn't the time! He has a very mean and very jealous, but also very hot, girlfriend to please. And maybe some party to make it to, who knows.
Jake pulls his shorts down roughly, just enough so that he can take his dick out. Already so big, the bulbous tip weeps with desire for you. Heâs palming himself, relishing in how your eyes shut tight, lips parted open as his wet, pink muscle traces circles over your sensitive skin.
Heâs nipping the top of your breasts now, careful not to leave marks in visible areas. Jake knows how you get about that sort of thing.Â
His fingers drag your white, damp panties off your legs, but keeps your skirt on. And the knee-high socks for good measure. His hand meets your core, pushing down on your clit with a heavy pressure he knows you like.
You gasp, covering your eyes with your forearm. Youâre so embarrassed. The noises you're making are unbecoming of you. All he does is laugh. Still so sensitive during sex after a whole year of dating. And heâs supposed to be the shy one.
His fingers drag slowly on your folds as he spreads your juices all over his digits. Jake might just cum in his pants with how soft your tits feel as he nestles his head in between them.Â
He pushes two fingers in right away, and you draw out a sharp breath. You almost hit him on the shoulder. He has no idea how big his hands are. How sometimes you would eye them whenever he helps you with homework. Veiny, like his cock.
Heâs moving his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, wet squelches echoing through the room.Â
âNghâMmmââ you groan, arching your back to meet his movements. Impatient. Youâre always so impatient.
âJAKE!â you cry out, when he rubs over a certain spot.
He looks up at you from his comfortable position between the valley of your chest, and with a teasing glint in his eyes, he says, âYou mean Jakey?â
And itâs not an exaggeration in the least to say that you start seeing red. You grab his wrist, the pads of your fingers digging into his flesh. He stops his movements, looking at you with those puppy-dog eyes like he did something wrong. And he did. Something very. Very. Wrong.
âSorry, I just wanted to teaseââ
You pull his fingers out of you. With one swift movement, you grab him by his shoulders and push him down onto the bed. Youâre hovering over him now, eyes dark.
Jake swallows nervously. Whyâd you have to look so hot when provoked?
âDid I ruin the vibe orâŚâ
âShut up,â you growl, crashing your lips onto his. He tries to hold your waist to offer support, but you hold his wrists down onto the sheets. He could probably push you off very easily. But he doesnât. Because he loves seeing you like this. Loves the urgency in your touch.
You want him! And youâre showing it! His heart is practically doing backflips in his chest.
Your tongue explores the inside of Jakeâs mouth, licking the roof of it in a way that has him seeing stars. Youâre so rough with it. Sucking on his, biting his lip, moving so desperately against him.
âBabeââ he tries to say in between your assaults on his mouth. But it comes out in a breathless whisper when he feels you grinding your slick pussy against him.
âI said,â you say through gritted teeth. âShut. Up.â
He almost moans when his leaking tip hits your clit. Just the contact alone has the back of his head hitting the pillow roughly. But he forces himself to watch as you move against him as he offers no assistance. Your grip on his wrists moves to the sheets as you focus on grinding against his dick. Swiveling yourself on him back and forth. Rubbing and rubbing. But itâs not enough. He needs to be inside. Needs to feel you right now.
Your breath is on his neck now, riling yourself up at his stunt. Jakey? What grown woman calls someone that? Choa and her nice ass bob... Fuck her!
âNghââ he lets out as you suction an erogenous zone on his neck, sucking and biting him like a vampire. Your tongue lapping at his skin to soothe him from the brutal assaults of your teeth. You close your eyes to relish in his taste. So salty from sweat, but still so sweet. But youâre distracted now as Jake breaks free from your hold. He grips your ass with one hand, the other guiding his pulsing member to your slippery entrance.
âWhaââÂ
Heâs looking at you with pleading eyes. âCan I, baby?â Jake begs, cheeks tinged pink. âPlease?â
You bite back a smile. What a fucking loser.
You push down on him, just slightly, just enough for his bulbous tip to slip inside. His grip on your ass is now slack. He doesn't even want to fight back, really.
âFuckââ Jakeâs mouth parts open, watching you with heavy-lidded eyes when you come back up. No longer inside you, he groans.
âWhyyy,â he whines. âI said Iâm sorryââ
He inhales a sharp breath when you engulf his tip again, tightening around him just a little harder.Â
âDo you like being called Jakey?â you question darkly. âLike it when other girls feel up on you?â
He shakes his head desperately. âNoâOnly youââ he says through pained groans.
And then you lift again, laughing at his pathetic form. âI donât believe you.â
Heâs practically writhing underneath you now, his mushroom tip pulsing against your folds. Your skirt hides it all from view, and he just wishes he could rip it off you. Give you a new one, much, much shorter, so he can see everything better.Â
But only if you let him.
âYouâre literally torturing me,â he whimpers, hips jutting up messily. He keeps missing your entrance, the one he desperately needs to be buried in. âNeed to feel you right nowââ
âWhatâs it to me?â you ask meanly, your thumb prodding at his bottom lip. His tongue comes out to lick at the pad of your thumb, sucking it ever-so-slightly. You enjoy this view. Him underneath you. Pleading. Whining. Like he's starving.Â
âIâll make you feel so good, baby,â Jake offers through the haziness of his lust. Not entirely conscious of how desperate he sounds. âYou can use me however you want. Iâll literally do anything. Just pleaseââ
And then you sink, so slowly that his eyes roll to the back of his head. The devil. His girlfriend is the devil.
âBabeââ You shut him up with another open-mouthed kiss. Messy, just how he likes it.
He grips his hands into yours as you suckle his tongue, intertwining your fingers together. You try not to wince as you sheath him fully, realizing now that you were overconfident in taking control before he could properly prep you.
Usually, sex was an hours-long ordeal with Jake. He likes to finger you, then eat you out, then repeat, until he can slip into your slick warmth with little issue. Sex is the only time you donât deny him the pleasure of seeing you flustered over him. Over what he could do for you. What he could provide you if you let him tell everyone in the world that heâs yours.Â
Regardless, Jake will always be long and thick, and he still stretches you out so deliciously. Your mouths clash against each other, swallowing back both of your moans as saliva pools at the sides of his bruised lips.
Depraved. Thatâs all you could think of when Jake bottoms out inside you. Heâs so sweaty now, the scent so musky that it drives you insane. Do other girls smell these pheromones when heâs around? Or is this just you and your hypersensitivity to everything that involves him?
Youâre moving up and down now, with shallow thrusts that do little to satiate the flame in your stomach. You donât do this enoughâtake control enough. Your knees are already weak, wobbling, as you grind down on him.
But you push through it as you continue to impale yourself on his cock, gummy walls clenching him tightly with each thrust. You want to get him off like this, even if your whole body is trembling above him.Â
And itâs not like Jake doesnât notice. But like the little shit he is, he doesnât feel like helping. Because he enjoys the feeling too much, of your breasts bouncing filthily against his chest. When you lift yourself from his lips so that you can focus on riding him, he finds it so endearing. How you put your hands on his abdomen to steady yourself, how you fuck yourself on his length. How much you struggle to take all of him in. Not sure what to do with yourself.
âMy poor baby,â Jake thinks, chuckling at how tight your eyes shut just to feel him better.Â
âNeed help?â he hums, his hand drawing circles on your hip. You shake your head, teeth gritted.
âN-no,â you try to muster out, but itâs unconvincing. Your movements are stuttering, moans slipping out of your mouth too easily. He smirks. His little pillow princess.Â
Jake, with his grip on your hips, pulls you down onto his cock. Hard. You gasp as his hips snap up with it.
âAhââ you cry out, your nails now digging into his shoulder blades. He pounds into a spot that had you almost come undone at that very moment. How did he get so good at this?
Jake lifts you, all the way until his pink tip is the only thing in your wet pussy. Then, as harshly as he could, he pushes you down on him, his thickness grazing at your deepest parts. And he does this again and again until you collapse onto his chest from the roughness of his thrusts.
âIâm gonnaâNghâFuckâYouââ you try to say through your moans, try to sound angry. But you love it. Love how tight he grabs your bum. Love the slight stretch of pain as he stuffs you full of him. Love that trickle of spit that falls out of his mouth as his back lifts off the bed to feel you better. Ugh, you hate him.
âJAKEââ
âShhh, baby, â he whispers, forcing your face into the crook of his neck. âJust take it.â
Jake plunges up into you, propelling your hips down with his harsh grip. He lifts a heavy hand, smacking your ass from behind as you try to match his timing. You scream. He does it again, massaging the tender spot. The pain mixes with the pleasure, as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You feel your climax building now as your lips find his neck again, sucking and biting. Marking him. Let everyone know that heâs yours. That you own him.
âBabeâŚâ he whines, too lost in the suctioning of your tightness to really care. Because heâs close too. So fucking close.Â
Jakeâs arms move up to your back, caging you into a bear-like embrace. His feet plant themselves on the bed, as his dick shoves into you with newfound energy. Heâs going so fast, you could practically hear the speed. Feel it too. The wet squelches of his balls slapping against your ass. You move with him, trying to sync your rhythm to his.
âMmmâAhhââ your moans jumble into each other. Your legs are trembling, even more than they were before. A searing feeling within you continues to build and build. A single, full thrust from him has you biting into his neck brutally, stifling your moans as your orgasm crashes through you in waves.Â
âShitââ he cries out, from both the pain of your teeth and the pleasure of your cunt's constricting grip. You grind down on him, whimpering into his skin, back arched to ease yourself through the sensitivity.
Jakeâs dick twitches in you once, then twice. He pushes you off of him and onto the bed, harsher than he intended. But he doesnât have a condom on, and... he likes the way you look in white.
He hovers over you now, his painfully hard length in his hand. Heâs stroking himself with urgency, fist wrapped around himself with a panicked grip. Heâs watching you intently as you splay out underneath him. So fucking pretty for him. Lips bruised and bitten so sensually. Legs opened with your juices glistening on the inside of your thighs. Maybe he should stuff his cock into yourâ
âFuckââ he groans, mouth parting at the sight of his thick ropes of cum spurting out of him, coating your stomach and tits. He strokes slowly, pumping all that heâs worth onto your body. You welcome it, eyes drinking in his flushed demeanor.
âI love you,â Jake mutters as he comes down from his high. And you donât say anything back, distracted as your fingers coat themselves on the sticky fluids on your skin. Such a mess, both of you.
You hear it then. Intense vibrations on his nightstand. Jakeâs phone, very much neglected, is blowing up with texts and calls. Was it going off like that the whole time? Then his eyes go wide like saucers.
âShit! The partyââÂ
Your eyes narrow. Before he can pick it up, you grab the nape of his neck to pull him down into another sloppy kiss. Your legs wrap around Jake once more, smirking as you feel him melt into you with little resistance.
âWhat party?â
morning after.
âYouâre a bitchhhh,â Sunghoon cries out, over a FaceTime call that Jake was forced to pick up at nine in the morning. You were already gone by then, running late to your morning lecture.Â
Heeseung, thankfully, still hadnât returned to the dorm. Or else you wouldnât have been able to stay over and let Jake devour you a few more times, but thatâs besides the point. He starts humming happily to himself with the memories of last night still fresh in his mind.
âThey wouldnât even let me into the bar because I was wearing the wrong colors,â his friend continues to complain.
âI get it, I get it,â Jake replies, only half-listening. Heâs fixing his outfit in the mirror, admiring how well a polo shirt fits him. Itâs weird. Heâs getting used to not looking like a dweeb all the time, just a few weeks into his big transformation, even with his glasses on right now.
âYo, do you think these pants look better with a belt or nah?â he asks, not really sparing Sunghoon a glance. He adjusts his shirtâs collar slightly untilâ
âWHAT THE FUCKââ
Jake jumps, phone nearly dropping from the desk he sat it on.
âWHAT IS THAT?!â
âWhat? What?!â Jake snaps his head to look behind himself, like Sunghoon might have seen a ghost.
âDid you get eaten by a fucking lion?!â Sunghoon gawks. Jakeâs cheeks turned a bright shade of red.
Damn, he forgot.
âW-what are you talking about?â he mutters unconvincingly, slowly coming out of frame. He strips the polo off in a panic, digging through his closet until he finds a turtleneck. Itâs autumn anyway. This is fine, right?
âOur friendship is done,â Sunghoon deadpans at the camera. âYou got fucking laid and didnât tell me?! I mean, I understand Jay, heâd make it weird. BUT NOT EVEN ME?!â
Jake shakes his head, tugging the turtleneck on. He tries to roll up his sleeves to look more casual, but now he looks like Steve Jobs. Shit. He should put his contacts on.
âSo who is it?!â Sunghoon presses. âWhoâs the unlucky girl?âÂ
 When Jake doesnât reply, Sunghoon gasps.
âUnlucky guy?!â
âMan, shut up!â Jake cries, snatching his phone off the desk and coming back into frame. âPlease donât tell Jay.â
â
âOkay, so he told Jay,â he blurts, shielding himself with his arm like youâre about to hit him. âPlease donât get mad at me.â
You almost asked why he was wearing a turtleneck in relatively warm weather when he tugged the collar down to show his neck. Absolutely purple and bruised. And yes. Maybe a dark, suppressed part of you jumped with glee. But the more rational part started cursing yourself out.
âI canât believe youâd video call him the morning after,â you groan, massaging your temple with your fingers. âUgh, Iâm so stupid. What was I even thinking?!â
Jake gives you a sly smile. âI mean, Iâm not complainingââ
You shoot him another icy stare, and he stops.Â
âW-well, itâs not like they know that itâs you! They probably think itâs someone elseâŚâ
You inhale a sharp breath at the thought. Was he gonna tell them the hickeys on his neck were from someone else? Who? Choa?
âWhatever,â you mutter, whipping around as your bag purposely smacked his bicep. You walk off, fists clenched, ignoring Jakeâs calls out to you.Â
Fucking Choa.
â
A full week has passed since the disaster that was Sunghoon seeing Jakeâs bruised neck. Your boyfriend only felt safe enough to see the two idiots once the marks faded, and even then, he was a little disappointed to wake up and see them all gone.Â
âSo run it through with me again,â Jay requests, leaning over the boiling hot pot broth. The boys sit in a dimly lit restaurant with a stage in the back.Â
âLike, you were just walking back to your dorm and boomâyou found a rando to hook up with out of nowhere?!â Jay questions, dropping tofu into the soup so aggressively that it splashes Jakeâs wrist.
âWhy are you making up fantasies in your head about my sex life?â Jake mutters, pushing his glasses up his face. He was too lazy to put his contacts on just to hang out with these two. âI plead the fifth.â
âBro, I thought you were a virgin this whole time!â Sunghoon adds unhelpfully. âExcuse us for trying to be supportive.â
Jake rolls his eyes, struggling to grab an udon noodle with his chopsticks.
âWait,â Jay says through the hot pot steam. âWerenât you walking with [Y/N] that night?â
Jake gulps, throat bobbing as he fiddles with the noodle more to avoid suspicion.
âRight!â Sunghoon snaps his fingers, and for a second, Jakeâs life flashes before his eyes. They know. They have to! Fuck, youâre gonna be so mad at himâ
âWhy donât we just ask her who it was?â
Jake stares at them and breaks out into a nervous laugh. Never in his life was he happier to have a more idiotic set of childhood friends.
âPlease do,â Jake smiles, wondering how you would weasel out of that conversation with them. âShe knows her very wellâŚâ
A piercing sound of microphone feedback ricochets through the restaurant. The three cover their ears as everyoneâs attention turns to the neglected stage.
âWho wants to sing?! It's open mic night!â the restaurant owner booms. When a deafening silence fills the air, Jay lifts Jakeâs hand straight into the air without hesitation.
âThis guy loves Celine Dion!â he cries out as Jake tries to yank his arm back down. He curses at his friend, but to no avail.
âOkay!â the owner shouts excitedly. âCome on right up, sir!âÂ
Jay and Sunghoon practically drag Jake up the stage, laughing themselves all the way back to their seats in the far back of the restaurant. Jake stands frozen as dozens of strangers stare at him, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. He takes off his glasses, shoving them in his pocket, and brushes his hair back. He couldn't bear to look at all these blank faces staring at him. Confidence. This is all about confidence.
When âMy Heart Will Go On' starts echoing through the restaurant walls, Jakeâs face flushes all the way red. This is exposure therapy; he tries to cope with himself. If he could do this, he could probably build up the courage to ask you about going public. So that his friends stop thinking heâs a loser. Maybe for you to stop thinking it, too.
He sucks in a deep breath. Whatâs the difference between this and a showerhead? Nothing. Absolutely nothing!
âEvery night in my dreams, I see youuuu⌠I feel youuuâŚâ he starts slowly, welcomed with a soft gasp from an audience member. Jay and Sunghoonâs laughter dies as Jake sings. Shit. He was actually doing it. And he sounded good, too. Like an angel. Was Jay crying?
Jake loses himself in the slow melody of the song, singing his heart out as he does in every postgame shower. âThis oneâs for you, babe,â he thinks. Wherever you areâŚÂ
When the song ends and Jakeâs eyes open, heâs met with a standing ovation. At a damn hot pot restaurant. Jay and Sunghoon are cheering the loudest, holding their hearts like their once-nerdy best friend was their child at a talent show. The owner comes up to the stage, sniffling.
âGive it up for this random kid!â
As Jake makes his way back to the table, he holds his head up high. He couldnât have imagined doing this a year before, let alone ordering food at a kiosk without stuttering. Itâs like taking off his glasses gave him super powers.
âExcuse meââ Jake turns around. A girl with long flowing hair stops him.Â
âAre you Jake Sim? The freshman on the football team?â she asks, eyes bright. He nods. Does he know her?
âIâm Suji from the Dance department.â She bows slightly. âYour performance was incredible, by the way!âÂ
He nods, giving a small âthanks,â before he turns back around.
âActually!â She calls after him. He stops again. âI just wanted to ask if you were interested in auditioning to be the male lead of our upcoming musical! Itâs about a football player who finds passion in singing and dancing. I just thought it would fit you so well!â
Jake turns back to face the stranger. He ponders deeply. A musical? Him? Heâd never thought about it before, but what the hell! He guesses heâs the type to try new things now. The power of a good haircut, maybe.
âIâll think about it,â he says with a polite smile.Â
Suji grins back. âAuditions start tomorrow. Weâd love to have you.â
By the time Jake finds his way back to his seat, his friends are already geeking.
âYou pulled another?!â Jay cries in anguish, biting his fist. âI should have gone up there. That should have been me! Damn it!â
âItâs not fair,â Sunghoon wails, leaning his head dramatically against the wall. âYou had no play in high school. Like absolutely zero bitchesââ
Jake snorts, scrounging for his glasses once more to slip them back on. âShe was just asking me to audition for some musical.â
âIâm sure she was,â Jay says with a smirk. âIâm sure sheâs staring straight at your back right now because she wants you in that musical soooo bad.â
Jake shifts in his chair uncomfortably, and sure enough, Suji is watching him. She shoots up her arm to wave. He looks back at his friends with a confused glance.
âMaybe theyâre desperate?â
Sunghoon groans. âIâm gonna call [Y/N]. Letâs get her expertise on this.â
âDonât!â Jake lunges, trying to grab Sunghoonâs phone as he takes it out of his pocket. But then flashes from that night start playing in his head. You above him. Riding him. Gripping his shoulders. Your lips on his neck, marking him until he whined and begged. All at the mere mention of Choaâs weird pet name for him. Jake clears his throat and sits back, not even trying to hide the shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
â...Yeah,â he says more casually. âAsk her.â
â
ma baby: Come over. Now.
Jake receives your text after Sunghoonâs impromptu call, bringing his hands together in a prayer position to the sky. Thank you to whatever higher being was watching over him.
When he reaches your residence hall, youâre waiting outside your door in pajamas, foot tapping impatiently against the carpet. You start glaring at his silhouette even before he comes into view.Â
âSo,â you start slowly, âyou just let anyone talk to you these days?â
Jakeâs already giddy. Yes⌠Be angry with him⌠Let him in your dorm room and reprimand him, while youâre at itâŚ
âBabeeee,â he teases, his arms already reaching for yours. You dodge him. âAre you mad at me?â
âNo,â you reply flatly. âIâm just wondering when you started serenading restaurants and accepting invitations from random girls?â
âJust thought I could finally get some appreciation for my many talents,â he says teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you.Â
âAre you saying I donât appreciate you?â you ask, not at all amused by his playful gaze. âI tell you all the time that youâre smart!â
He chuckles. âEveryone and your mom knows that by now, babe.â
You narrow your eyes. âHeâs learning how to fight back,â you think sourly.Â
âSo you enjoyed that girl's appreciation, then?â you counter, knowing that you were riling yourself up by asking such a loaded question. Jake bites his lip to stifle a smile. There it is.Â
He shrugs. âI donât know,â he says, pushing his glasses up. âI think I might actually consider auditioning!â
And this part is genuine. Heâs always enjoyed singing. It could be a cool new experience, especially since he shied away from doing theater back in high school. Maybe now was his moment to shine... But when he notices how your expression darkens, heâs suddenly excited to audition for the musical for a whole different reason.
You look around the hallway, checking to see if anyone's coming by. Then you pull him by the collar and into your dorm room. The door shuts behind you two as you push him to sit on the bed. Jake looks up, eyes bright with pure anticipation as you climb onto his lap.
âWhatâs up, babe?â he asks, feigning ignorance. And you fall for it. Because your cute, nerdy boyfriend couldnât possibly have ulterior motives⌠Right?
âYou have class tomorrow?â you ask as you adjust yourself on him, legs encasing both sides of his thighs. His hands find your hips, pulling you closer.
âIt depends,â he says, knowing full well he has an 8 a.m. physics lab. âIs your roommate coming back anytime soon?â
Oh yeah. Her.Â
âNot tonight,â you mutter, already peppering his neck with small kisses. âSheâs visiting her parents.â
Jake smirks, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip as the wheels are already turning in his head. He fakes a cough.
âYou know⌠I think the musical is actually a romantic comedy.â
Youâre on your knees, carpet harshly grazing your skin.Â
âFuck,â Jake groans, head thrown back as his hand clutches your hair. Heâs pushing you down onto his cock, relishing in the way your cheeks hollow around him. How you take his whole length into your mouth without your usual snappy commentary. Look at you. Underneath him. So eager to please, but so in need of control. He bites his bottom lip at the view. It's addictive.
âJust like that,â Jake encourages, stroking your cheek so lovingly. Your tongue licks the underside of his thickness, careful not to have your teeth graze his sensitive skin. Heâs so flushed above you, a darkness blooming in your heart. The sight of his glasses pushed so low on his nose bridge. So focused, so desperate for release.
âMy Jake,â you think to yourself. âAll mine.â
You bob your head up and down, your mouth plunging down to the base of his member with the help of his tight grasp on your hair.
âY-yes,â he sighs, his hips coming up to meet your lips. Jakeâs gaze never leaves yours, unable to tear his eyes from the tears forming in your eyes from just how much he fills you up. You always had something to say. Always rolling your eyes at him. Now, your eyes were rolling back for a different reason.
His mouth falls open. âF-fuckââÂ
You smirk as his hips start to lose rhythm. You remember the first time you gave him head. Just like this, knees on the floor of his room back home, with his parents watching TV downstairs. Glasses perched and foggy. He came within seconds. You were proud, just a little, that he was able to last this long now.
âB-babe?â he tries to cry out. âIâm closeââ
You pull away from him with a pop of your lips, teasing the slit of his tip with the flat of your tongue. He groans in frustration, but his hands donât push you down to take him in again.
âAlready?â you say, eyes batting up at him. âWhy should I give you the satisfaction?âÂ
He whines, his grip on your hair tightening just a little.Â
âPlease?â he asks, not really sure what you want from him. Itâs not like he asked you to just fuck him with your mouth! That was all your doing. Okay, yes, maybe he did provoke you. But did that mean he didnât deserve to orgasm?!
Youâre pumping him slowly with your right hand, gripping tightly and stroking enough so that heâs still edging close to his climax. But not close enough to actually reach it.
âI thought I was supposed to be showing you appreciation,â you say pointedly. âTake my time with you and all that.â
He shakes his head ferociously, his hips snapping up into your fist.Â
âBabeâPleaseâIâm soââ he groans when he feels you slow your pace again.Â
âSo what?â you ask, feigning naivety. You really are the devil.
He shakes his head. He canât speak. Canât even think. Just frustrated with how your lips arenât wrapped around his fucking dick anymore.
âIâm sorry,â he cries. âIâll do anything, baby. PleaseâJust stop teasingâPleaseââ
His sobs are music to your ears. Your wristâs pace on him quickens, as your mouth engulfs his swollen tip. Your tongue circles the head, pumping him up and down with all your strength and might. Jakeâs hands are clutching the sheets, hips pistoning up into your sticky fingers. He feels his load threatening to spill over.Â
âFuckâYes, babyâThereââ He pulls your head back, hand encasing yours, pumping ferociously with you. Your mouth is wide open, tongue sticking out, eyes looking directly up at his. An invitation.
Spurts of his hot, white release coat your pink tongue. He unloads everything within him all over your features. Your cheeks. Your chin. Your cute ass nose. All covered in his milky cum. His mouth parts at the sight. So pretty. His girlfriend is so fucking pretty.
âI love you,â he whispers, as he wipes dribbles of his liquid off your chin with his thumb. âI love you so fucking muchâŚâ
You hum back in approval as he lifts you back up and onto his lap. Your face, still stained with his orgasm, comes up to kiss him. He grimaces slightly. You taste infinitely better than he does. Heâs almost thankful you part ways with his lips so that you could pepper kisses down his neck.
And when you start sucking and nipping in the same way you did that game night, he smiles. His arms wrap around your waist as you suction his pulse point.
âI could get used to this,â Jake thinks.
The audition the next day went surprisingly easily. He truly was the only one trying out for the main role, while Suji was already pre-selected to play the female lead. Jake thinks itâs a bit unfair. What if other people wanted to audition too? But whatever. At least he got the part.
He finds you in between your lectures, holding out a boba for you in his hand. Jakeâs not wearing a turtleneck this time, proudly wearing the battle scars of your teeth on his neck. No oneâs brave enough to bring it up to him yet, to his dismay. Except you, who promptly smacks him in the arm for his shamelessness.Â
âYou look like a pervert,â you grumble, still taking the drink from him.
He chuckles at your cute expression. You say that like it wasnât your intention to have him show the bites off. To show that he is very much occupied with someone else. Not Choa. Or whoever this other girl was.
âI was wearing my jacket the whole day,â he reassures. âJust took it off when I came to see you.â
He flexes slightly. âYou think Iâve bulked recently?â
You roll your eyes and ignore his obvious fish for compliments. âSo howâd it go? The audition?â
He smiles. âYouâre looking at the male lead of Singing Striker,â he says proudly, hand to chest. âAnd before you ask, the name was not my choice.â
You scoff at the cheesiness. âCongrats,â you say through small sips of your gifted drink. âBreak a leg.â
âBabe⌠when you say it like that, I feel like you mean it the other way.â
You shake your head, speaking robotically. âSo whoâs the female lead? Itâs a romcom, you said?â
âThe girl,â he starts, snapping his fingers like he doesnât already know who she is. âSuji. From the restaurant. The one who recruited me.â
Your eyes morph into a squint, like youâre glaring at him.Â
â...Interesting,â you say, willing yourself not to overreact. So Jake is hot now (always was). Girls just love to approach him with invitations to stuff. And he gets to act in a musical with someone that Jay described as âthe baddest girl Iâve ever seen in my life.â Great! You love that, actually.
You bite down hard on the boba straw. âYou know what⌠Are they casting for extras?"
And it's like a bad habit now. How you nip and scar his neck like youâre feeding off him every time a girl even so much looks in his direction. Itâs easier than saying youâre jealous, easier than admitting that you have a sick sort of need to control who Jake interacts with.
You almost bent a metal spoon in the cafeteria when a girl asked for his number while you were sitting right in front of him. Granted, you did denounce being in a relationship with him pretty heavily the first few weeks at school. You knew she had every right to shoot her shot, but that didn't stop you from taking Jake right into a janitorial closet and making you eat him out as an apology.
âFuck, baby,â he moans into the space between your thighs as your hands push him deeper into your wetness. âI've never even seen that girl in my lifeââ
You grit your teeth, angry that he even mentioned her. âDid I ask?â you growl through sharp breaths. âJust shut up.â
He smiles against your clit, sucking harshly to elicit more of your beautiful noises. He hums into you. Happy that you're mad at him. Happy that he gets to do dirty things with you without having to practically be on his knees and begging. Well, really, he already was.
His tongue laps at your folds, thrusting in and out to prolong his stay in between your thighs. Maybe he is teasing, but really, heâs just taking it all in. Your addictive noises. Your sweet taste. The feeling of his fingers digging into your ass just to hold you up. The way you clench around his tongue when he arches it inside, real deep. Yeah, he needs you bad.
Jake is lapping at you, your legs constricting around him even tighter when he finds his way back to your clit. When he tugs on it with his teeth, you jolt.
âJakeââ He does not care. He nips again, flattening his tongue to soothe the slight pinch. You arch your back into him, riding his face until you stop yourself. You look desperate. Pathetic even. But Jake groans.
âKeep going,â he huffs. âUse me, babe. Use me like Iâm your fucking toy.â
You tsk, wondering where he learned to talk like that.Â
âFucking pervert,â you mutter through harsh breaths. But your grip on him does tighten, and he whimpers at the feeling of you tugging on his locks.
âYou like it when I'm like this, don't you?â You grit your teeth, pushing him in further. His nose is practically buried into your clit as he fucks his pink muscle into you at a merciless pace.
âLike when you get attention. Like when everyone fucking wants you.â
You're seething, practically riling yourself up. He tries to speak, but you clench around his tongue, trapping his voice. He hums into your folds instead, licking the roof of your warm hole as he finds the exact spot he's been searching for. You mewl.
âFuck! T-there!â
You're grinding onto his face now, smothering him with your scent. Yes, he thinks to himself, please suffocate him. Tremors go through your body as you feel something intense build in the lower pit of your stomach. So close. So fucking close.
Jakeâs grip on your ass loosens as he lets you do all the work. Your legs over his shoulder pump furiously into his face. Like, Jake is just a mere vessel for your climax. And he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't even nurse his own hard-on, one that's painfully stretching his jeans.Â
You're fucking his tongue, whining with each thrust, eyes starting to roll back, fingers almost pulling Jakeâs hair from his scalp. Your hips stutter and thenâ
âFuuuckâŚâ Your orgasm pulses through you in ways that have you screaming silently. Your legs are trembling as his mouth vibrates with his hums against your core. Jakeâs lapping up all your juices with an urgency.
Everything. He wants to taste everything. When you gently push him off from the oversensitivity, he resists at first. He holds you in place until he gets his fill, until tears are threatening to spill over. But your legs finally find the ground as he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes.
âI love you,â he whispers, out of breath.Â
âWhoreâ you want to say out loud, but you know that would only make him hornier. Heâs weirdly into stuff like that. But you smile as you comb through his hair. He doesnât have complaints about you messing it all up as long as youâre fucking him, huh?
Jake, still on his knees, looks up at you with a lick of his lips, savoring the remaining taste of you on it. You wish he could see how he looked. Flushed. Damp. Yours. You almost lift him up to kiss him whenâDing.
The loving gaze you two share is cut off by the sound of his phone. He finally gets up from his knees, checking the notification.
âOh shit,â he mutters. âSuji says I missed the costume fitting. I think I need to head out soonââ
You smash your lips against his, interrupting his train of thought. You moan at the taste of yourself on his devious tongue. Jake smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. Maybe you could add a few more hickeys to his collection before he heads out... Just for good measure.
jake: letâs go to jayâs together?
For one of your weekly hangouts. The nights you try to avoid because they always end with you ignoring the pile of assignments youâve already been putting off.Â
you: sure. wya rn?
You smack your forehead the second you realize how quickly you sent that text. You swear you werenât waiting. It wasnât like you were staring at the last message he sent five hours ago, ruminating over whether it was appropriate to tell him how much you missed him.
jake: meet me by the bleachers :D practice is ending soon.
The speed at which you change outfits is impressive, already heading to the damn field before you realize it. Heâs there, dribbling with a couple of his teammates. You sit at the top of the stands, a bit out of his sight. He catches a glimpse of you anyway and waves. You shoot him a simple smile of acknowledgement that dampens almost immediately.
Because you also see Choa, handing him a water bottle. When Jake reaches for it, trying to avoid brushing her hand, she purposefully finds his fingers anyway. Itâs enough for your stomach to sink.
Even though heâs just smiling politely. Even when it looks like their conversation lasts for two seconds. It doesnât feel any less bad. Choa notices you staring, and she scoffs. âThis is a closed practiceââ
âSheâs with me,â Jake corrects her immediately. âI told her to come. Thatâs okay, right?â
You lift an eyebrow, challenging her. Jake said it the nice way. If she had to hear you speak, you would have probably been escorted off the field by now. She coughs awkwardly and nods, instantly folding under Jakeâs attention. Your boyfriend, by the way.
âO-of course,â she stammers. âJust make sure she doesnât see the playbook.â
The guys continue playing, and you move down a few rows, keeping Choa in your line of sight. Itâs like she feels the daggers you send her way because she whips around to glare at you.
âItâs kind of pathetic,â she starts. âHow you cling onto him.â You squint at her, not sure if you heard her correctly. You turn around, too, to check if she really had the audacity to speak to a stranger like you in that way.
âYou talking to me?â you ask, pointing at yourself mockingly. She clicks her tongue.
âWho else?â she bites back. âDo you even have a name, or do you usually just go by Jakeâs guard dog?â
Your cheeks burn in anger. Oh, if you were in high school⌠Sheâd have been on the ground by now, makeup stained with turf and pebbles. But unfortunately, youâre trying to stick to your resolution. A reformed delinquent girl at a prestigious universityâ
âYou mute too?â Choa adds in for good measure. You stand, and itâs like Jakeâs Spidey senses tingle because he stops to watch, monitoring if he needs to step in.
âYou know,â you say, voice cool and devoid of emotion, âyouâve got a lot to say for someone who has to talk like a baby to get a manâs attention.â
She snarls. âExcuse me?â
âJakeâs not gonna let you hit,â you mock, scanning her up and down with a disgusted face. You only say the next part just to piss her off. âYouâre not really his type.â
âAnd you are?â She steps in closer. âYouâre stuck in the fucking friendzone, acting like hot shitââ
Oh, if only she knew. The truth is sitting on your tongue, burning, begging to be spoken just so you can wipe that stupid smirk off her face. But youâre not that angry yet. Not enough to expose yourself.
âYou seem like such a loser,â she continues, voice laced with malice. âEveryone already thinks you look like some stray puppy following Jake everywhere he goes. Donât you have a life of your own? Any hobbies? Isnât it sad showing up where youâre not wanted?â
Ouch. Jake was your puppy. He follows you around everywhere.Â
She digs right into that ugly little fear in the back of your mind. That you look as pitiful as you feel. That you truly were just biding your time in this dumb university until Jake showers you with attention. Is this what a relationshipâs supposed to feel like? Like youâre waiting for him, all the damn time?
You inhale a deep breath. Youâre better than this. Better than catfights over someone thatâs already yours. A man who sleeps on your chest almost every night... But youâre not above being petty.
âAnd did he tell you all that,â you ask with fake sweetness, âor are your delusions that Jakeâs gonna fuck you starting to get to your brain?â
She opens her mouth, but you cut her off. âIâll make sure to put in a good word for you,â you continue, sarcasm dripping in your voice. âMake sure Jakey knows exactly the kind of girl you are.â
Choa bites the inside of her cheek. âNot like I said anything wrong.â
âOh, right.â You pitch your voice up to that grating baby tone she uses with Jake. âIâm sure heâll appreciate you calling me a âfucking loser,â since you care so much about what he thinks.â
You could laugh at her suddenly hunched shoulders, but you just drop back down onto your seat, fake scrolling through your phone. âDonât you have a team to manage?â
Choa whips her bob around, stomping back toward the group and desperately hoping that no one heard. But Jake is already staring. He doesnât look mad. Just resigned.Â
âChoa?â he calls out, voice low and almost inaudible. Heâs not smiling like usual.
âYes?â she answers immediately, with that lilted tone that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. You donât hear the conversation that takes place, so curious as to why Choaâs expression suddenly drops.
âDonât ever talk to her like that again,â he says, and the entire team stiffens around them.Â
âAnd next time,â he adds, walking past her, âJust mind your fucking business.â
â
You never, in all your years of living, thought youâd be sitting in an auditorium seat watching your boyfriend act like he was in love with another girl on stage. But here you are, leg bouncing and forearms itching from the irritation bubbling in your chest.
âBut don't you get it?!â Jake rehearses, script in hand. His hands flail in fake exasperation. You cover your mouth to hide the wince forming on your lips. âHow can I choose between the stage and football?!â
âYou don't have to choose,â Suji steps in, acting much better than Jake, at least. âYou can do both.â
Jake sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. He's facing her now.
She's pretty, you think. Really pretty. Probably one of the most gorgeous girls you've ever seen in your life. And Jake is staring right into her eyes. You canât help but wonder if he thinks the same. You grit your teeth at the thought.
âBut what would people think of me?â he sighs. Suji shakes her head, moving closer. Your brows knit. That's not part of the script.
âWho cares what other people think?â she says softly, resting her hand on his chest. Your expression darkens immediately. âIf it feels like you're alone⌠Then I can be there to support you.â
Maybe Jake's character should care what other people think, especially if heâs gonna prioritize singing on stage with some pretty girl over his football careerâ
You slap your own cheek lightly. Relax.
âCut,â the musical director calls out. âGreat job, you two! After this is the dance scene. We can rehearse that tomorrow. I think that's all for the day.â
When the actors and stage crew finally funnel out, you watch Jake stay behind, chatting with his costars onstage. So radiant, smiling at them with his toothy grin and cracking jokes as he says goodbye. He never used to be like that. Used to be so painfully shy that Jay had to accept his academic awards for him in high school.
And yeah, you feel like shit when he's standing there, surrounded by people who have stars in their eyes when he talks, while you're grumpily waiting in a faraway seat with no real excuse to interrupt. You're just part of the stage crew, after all. Just one of the invisible people who move props in between scenes while Jake and Sujiâs characters fall deeply in love with each other. Yuck.
But youâre not gonna do the usual thing of dragging him to the nearest secluded area and fucking his brains out. Noâyouâre better than that. Youâre not a loser! Youâd let this pass.
âBye, Iâll catch up with you guys soon! My friendâs waiting for me.â
The word âfriendâ digs deep into your heart. But thatâs your own fault.
Jake walks toward you, and the quick smile he throws your way is cut short the moment he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He stops in front of you, forehead still glistening from the stage lights, eyes glued to the screen even as he talks.
âI have practice in like thirty minutes,â he sighs, scrolling through his calendar. âAnd then the crew wants to have, like, a group dinner later tonight.â
He cranes his neck to release some tension, finally looking up at you. âDamn. My character is lowkey right. It really is hard balancing the two.â
You roll your eyes and stand up. âThe crew? Like Jay and Sunghoon?â
He shakes his head as he walks beside you, still a bit occupied with his phone. He's sending text messages to some massive group chat, text bubble after text bubble popping up.
âThe main acting crew,â he says, emphasizing the second word. âI think they wanna run the lines at En Bar and get a couple of drinks.â
You almost stop in your tracks, but you force yourself to continue walking with him, arms crossed. Good for him, you think. And you mean it. He's adjusted so well to university life, while yours feels like it revolves around him.
What's Jake up to? Is his practice done? Who's he talking to? Is it Choa? Is it Suji? Is it every girl that makes eye contact with your newly socially adept boyfriend, who just so happens to have the most gorgeous face known to mankind?
You want to punch yourself real bad.
âDo you wanna come?â he asks when he notices you've fallen silent. He thinks it's cute when you're jealous. Sulking and poutyâwhen itâs obvious why youâre upset. Not when you're quiet. Not when you're creating distance between you two as he walks beside you.
âI can ask them if we can reserve more chairsââ
âIt's fine!â you interrupt, but even you donât convince yourself. âI have work to catch up on anyway.â
His lips part as if recalling something important, something he promised you.Â
âI'm so sorry, babe!â he gasps. âI totally forgot that you needed help studying for your exam tomorrow!â
You shrug your shoulders. Youâre a cool girlfriend. Super chill. Not crazy at all.
âNo, it's okay,â you say, chain necklace feeling heavy on your chest. âI'll just go to the tutoring center. You're busy, I get it.â
His eyes are still laced with concern. You sound so disconnected, so not yourself. Did he do something wrong?
âI can come over tomorrow?â he suggests, but it almost comes out as a plea. âWe can watch the new movie you wantedââ
âMy roommateâs gonna be home.â
âOkayâŚâ he says, voice fading. âWhat about my dorm?â
You shake your head. âI'm not really up for a movie, I guess.âÂ
Jakeâs expression sours. It feels like youâre shoving sheets of metal down his throat. He can take you angry. Can handle you screaming, kicking, crying, and calling him names. He canât take whatever this is.
âI can just cancel,â he says quickly. âIâll come over tonight!â
And Choaâs voice resounds in your ear.
âYou seem like a fucking loser.â
You bite your bottom lip and stare at his wavering gaze. You wonder if he pities you.Â
Has he noticed? How quickly you reply to his texts? How often you show up to his extracurricular activities? How you canât seem to admit that youâre hurting, even when heâs right here in front of you? God, you hate this feeling.
âItâs okay,â you say, and itâs small like a whisper. âNeed some alone time anyway.â
âAlright,â he breathes, relenting to whatever boundary youâve set with him. He reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, but when you flinch, he retracts his hand instantly.
âI love you?â he tests.
You give him a small smile and nod, pushing past him. He moves like he wants to catch your hand and stop you. But as always, he lets you walk just a little too out of his reach.
Because you still donât say it back.
â
So this is what it feels like to twiddle your thumbs and try not to scream as Jake misses yet another hangout... Heâs busy with his daily practices and rehearsals. You get that. But itâs still physically torturous to sit through Jay and Sunghoon stoking the fires of your insecurities.
âHeâs gotta be seeing someone,â Sunghoon sighs, reclining into the beanbag in Jayâs apartment. âDude just abandons his friends without any pussy involved? Thereâs no way.â
You smash a throw pillow from the couch and into his face, and Jay throws another one for good measure.
âWhy do you always think with your dick?â Jay mutters. âJust let Jake be. This is his moment. Not like he had much to work with in high school.â
Sunghoon sighs. âYeah,â he mumbles, almost apologetic. âHe was pretty lame back then.â
You never thought so. Maybe you joked about it, but you never really meant it. He was kind. A little shy. So eager to please and follow you around. And now that the roles were reversed, you werenât sure how to feel anymore. Fuck. Why couldnât you just be happy for him?
He has this amazing life outside of you now. Cool friends (not Jay and Sunghoon). Great prospects for the future. Itâs like a bird leaving the nest. Your carefully cultivated nest.
You felt like a cloud raining over his head when youâre around him now. After Choa, you started to notice the whispers around campus a little more. How people avoid him when youâre around because you canât carry empty conversations about upcoming exam scores the same way Jake can.
Itâs just different. He is. And it feels like you are too. But not a good different. Itâs the kind that makes you feel like this isnât how you should be. That you arenât who you want to be⌠Maybe Choa was right.
And now a pillow is thrown in your direction. You shoot daggers at Sunghoon with your glare.
âWhat?!â you yell. He pounces in fear.
âI asked,â he coughs. âIs college treating you okay? You making friends?â
You roll your eyes. âAre you my dad?â
Jay sighs. âWe always talk about Jake. Sue us for wanting to know how youâre doing for once.â
The words linger. What are you doing?
â
Youâre stewing in it, marinating in how lonely it feels to stand in a corner with the stage crew while Jake, Suji, and the rest of the main cast laugh amongst themselves. Whatever.
âThose two are so cute,â a girl beside you says. Gaeul. So sweet, so bubbly. So oblivious to how tightly you clench your teeth. âTheyâd be like the it couple on campus, no?â
When you look between Jake and his toothy grin and Suji with her sweet laugh, you canât help the way your heart constricts. âYeah,â you mutter in disgruntled agreement. âI guess.â
Jake sends you sneaking glances, ones you donât notice despite your eyes lingering on him.Â
You haven't been the most responsive lately. He texts you a lot in between practices and rehearsals. Whenever he has the chance. He asks to come over. Asks you to come over. And youâve turned him down almost every time.
You didnât attend his last two games, youâre skipping rehearsals that you used to sit through for hours, and Jay knows where you're holed up more than he does. Heâs worried about you. Worried that youâre avoiding him. Were you avoiding him?
âI heard you two are really good friends,â Gaeul asks you with sparkling eyes. âHe seems like such a catch. Howâd you not fall in love?â
You shrug. What answer are you supposed to give? Itâs not like you were resistant to his charm either. âHe went through a transformation recently,â you admit. âWe were both kind of outcasts in high school.â
âMe too!â she says excitedly. âI bleached my hair, and everything before uni started. What about you? Were you two like super shy?â
You shake your head. âJake was. I was just a bad student. Got in trouble a lot. My parents literally laughed when I told them I wanted to go here.â
And your heart thuds in your chest from a memory. Because Jake believed in you. Sat through hours of studying, teaching you the difference between derivatives and whatever the fuck linearization was, just for the chance to attend the same university. So he could spend time with you, so he could be with you. And now you barely see him.
âReally? Iâm not surprised, though. You seem like such a chill girl. Like you donât care what other people think of you.â
âTrust me. Iâm far from it.â You catch Jakeâs longing gaze again, but you turn away.
âStarting to think it was a mistake joining this thing,â you mumble, âwith how often everyone forgets their lines.â
She laughs. âI like how straightforward you are,â she says with a wide smile. âDonât really mince your words, do you?â
You smile too, in what feels like forever. It felt free to talk about somethingâanythingâoutside of him.
âUnfortunately, I donât know how to hold back what I say.â Which is a lie. Because you hold back a lot. More than you let on.Â
âAlright!â the stage manager yells. âLetâs get in position for the final scene.â
The kiss scene. The one youâve dreaded for so long. You and Gaeul move across the stage, setting up the mics and instruments in their right place. You move past Jake with your head down. He frowns. So you are avoiding him.
âPlaces, people!â
You watch, from the wings, as Jake pours his heart out into the lyrics. A song about breaking free from stereotypes and whatever other inspirational stuff this whole musicalâs about. Heâs good. Really good. He moves like a natural on stage, throwing Suji these soft, tender glances that look so painfully real. She glows under the lights, stars in her eyes. And as the song comes to an end, he picks her up to spin her.
Just like the script says. And you clutch your forearm at the sight.
âI feel like I can really be myself with you,â he says to her. âLike I donât have to hide or pretend.â
Whatever.
âAnd you make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.â
The two stare at each other. A pause. Jake leans in. And so does she. Fuck.
You canât do this. Canât watch. You turn and walk out the back exit. Your chest is heavy, constricted with that ugly pang of envy.
Fuck this feeling. It hurt. Why did it have to hurt? You hate the tears that well up in your eyes, hate the shivering of your shoulders as you hug yourself in the parking lot of the stupid auditorium. You need to go back in. Save face. Show how little that kiss scene affected you because youâre supposed to be his friend in the eyes of everyone else.
You clutch your necklace through your shirt, fingers twisting the ring. Jake, who loves you. Who desperately wants your relationship to be public, to show you off. The same Jake on stage kissing another girl for a stupid musical you didnât even want to be a part of.
He doesnât deserve this. This monstrous version of you, who cares too much but gives too little. Overbearing to the point of suffocation.
So you walk back in, face steeled and tears wiped. Heâs talking to the director with Suji, like nothing happened. Like all semblance of your self-esteem wasnât just ruined a few minutes ago. But you need to stop. Because it isn't his fault. It isn't even Sujiâs.
Itâs yours. You hurt your own feelings.
Jake sees you and immediately lights up, calling your name as he jogs over. You donât smile back.
âI have some time after rehearsals,â he says lovingly, his hand tugging your arm. âWait for me?â
This would be the last time you would.
â
He tries to hold your hand on the walk back home to steady his heart rate. Opening night creeps closer and closer, and preparation alone wonât save him from the nerves. But when you pull away before his fingers can intertwine with yours, he flinches.
Maybe there are too many people around, Jake tells himself. Youâre probably worried about being seen. And so he continues his merry yapping. He doesnât notice the defeated glint in your eyes or the slow steps you take next to his. Heâs still riding the high from rehearsal, still proud he finally made it through every line without stuttering or needing the script.
Maybe heâll do well enough on opening night that youâll let him kiss you afterward. Maybe youâll walk toward him with flowers while he wraps you in his arms. Heâd spin you around, brag to the whole world that youâre his girlfriend. Say it loud and proud in front of annoying ass Jay and Sunghoon, who got front row seats.
The thought pulls a grin onto Jakeâs face, making him skip ahead a little. And you both keep walking toward the dorms. Just like any other day.
Until you ruin it.
âIâm dropping out of the stage crew,â you say, casually. He stops in his tracks. All semblance of a smile wipes from his face. The show is sold out. Itâs too late to get you tickets.Â
âYou wonât be able to watch,â he says, panic laced in his voice. Youâre at a standstill, in the middle of campus, surrounded by trees and concrete. âYou shouldâve told me! I can see if I can pull some stringsââ
Heâs already taking his phone out to text someone. Probably the director. He doesnât even ask why. Just goes straight to problem-solving. Your Jake. Too good. Too kind. Too forgiving.
Itâs too much.
âIâm not coming to watch,â you say, harsher this time, stopping him from sending the message. Guilt washes over you instantly. Because he looks at you with his brows knit together, eyes wavering.
âI donât understand.â You donât want to come? You donât want to support him?
Your mouth opens to say something. Anything. But your throat feels hoarse, shoulders too heavy. Shit. Donât cry. You donât cry in front of anyone.
âJake,â you start, clenching your quivering hands open and closed. âI canât do this anymore.â
His heart drops.Â
âDo what anymore?â he swallows, his mouth dry. âIâm confusedââ
âI think we need to break up.â
Numb. Everything is numb.
âW-what?â Tears sting Jakeâs eyes before he can blink them back. âDonât⌠donât say that.â
You shake your head. âJake,â you whisper, careful not to get too close. Careful so you donât make the mistake of taking back your words. âI donât think weâre good for each other.â
He inches forward. You take a step back.
âDo you think that? That Iâm not good enoughââ
âNo,â you interrupt. But he isnât listening. And he doesnât want to. Because this feels like a fucked up joke, a prank on him thatâs been taken too far. Wonât you stop?
âBecause if itâs something I did, I can change,â he begs. And your heart breaks a little at how desperately he searches for a hint of emotion in your face. But you donât relent. You can be the bad guy. You always are.Â
âPlease. We can talk this through.â
âIâm sorry,â you say, an unusual softness in your voice. âI donât want to change my mindââ
âWhy not?!â he asks, voice louder. The quiet that falls between you two is masked by the rustle of surrounding trees, orange and red leaves falling around you two. The cool, autumn air brushes your face. His eyes sting with redness.Â
âWhy donât you tell me anything?â His voice cracks. The aching in your heart makes you want to give in, to take it all back. But you arenât like Jake. You canât adjust, canât welcome change so openly.Â
So as you look at him with his slicked back hair and sharp features, so different from a year ago, it feels like you've already lost something. The version of yourself who had more to give than hollow excuses and marks left on his skin.
You couldnât admit to it even now. That you hate who youâve become. âIâm telling you right now,â you gulp, bracing your own words. âThat I want to break up.â
And the first semblance of tears falls down Jakeâs cheeks as he lets out a bitter laugh. He doesnât believe it. Canât accept it. He wonât let this be the end.
âIf itâs because of what Choa saidââ
Your brows furrow. âYou heard what she said?âÂ
His hands are in his hair, tugging at it with frustration. You seem angry, but he doesnât know why. He never does.
âI told her to mind her business,â he explains quickly. âIt doesnât matter what she thinks. So if youâre breaking up with me just because she called you clingy or whateverâŚâ
And he doesnât know it, but the words trigger something in you. Something youâve been pushing down over and over again. The feeling of seeming weak, of needing him. The need to monopolize. It sickens you.
âIt matters what I think Jake!â you finally burst out. Frustration etched in your voice, shaky from the cold air and your wavering emotions. Donât cry, donât cry, donât cry.
âAll I ever do now is wonder who youâre with, why youâre with them, and I just⌠I just feel so fucking lonely.â
He reaches for you, but you push him away. Your grievances spill out of you before you can hold them back.
âIâm paranoid of anyone who talks to you. I couldnât even fucking watch you do that stupid kiss scene,â you continue.Â
âWe didnât even kiss!â
âThatâs not the fucking point!â you scream, before you can stop yourself. You inhale sharply when he flinches. Calm down. This is not his fault. Why are you getting angry with him?
âIâm sorry,â you mumble, taking one more step back. He holds your wrist gently to keep you in place.
Jake stares at you with his lips parted, stunned. âSo why canât we just go public?â he pleads. âYou wouldnât have to feel this way ifââ
âThatâs not the issue either,â you scoff, but you canât even convince yourself. Because isnât this how it all started? Your unwillingness to be embarrassed, to seem vulnerable in front of others. Was this not the root of it all?
âThen what is?!â he cries, his grip on your wrist tightens, not to hurt you, but so that you donât run. Because youâre good at that. Running.
âI get insecure too,â he reassures, but you look past him now. âBut I tell you. I tell you when Iâm hurt, I tell you when Iâm down. Because I⌠I want you to understand me. I want to understand you tooâŚâ
He swallows hard before continuing. âSo I donât get why you would even bring up breaking up before we even try to solve the problem togetherââ
âBecause I donât want to solve it, Jake.â
His hold on you loosens instantly, arm dropping to his side. You feel colder as he steps back. Jake stares at you, hurt laced in his gaze. Like you stabbed him in the heart and twisted the knife in to marinate.
â...You're always like this,â he mutters under his breath. âAlways saying hurtful things without thinking about how they make me feel.â
He feels his throat close up as he draws in some baited breaths. The tears come in more heavily, his cheeks damp as they roll down his pained face.Â
âSo you see what I mean?â you say, your own tears threatening to spill over without you even realizing. A part of him instinctively wants to wipe them away, to pull you close and make it stop. But all he feels is anger. Because youâre the one breaking up with him. Youâre the one choosing to end things. What right do you have to cry? What right do you have to look shattered when he's the one in pieces?
âIâm horrible to you,â you let out with pained laughter. He shakes his head immediately.Â
âNo, youâre notââ
âI always pick fightsââ
âYou donâtââ
âI act like a fucking bitchââ
âDonât call yourself thatââ
"I feel like Iâm insane when Iâm around you,â you let out, before you can stop yourself.
âI donât think that at allââ
âBut I do, Jake,â you cry. âI hate how jealous I get when youâre surrounded by other people. I hate feeling like Iâm holding you back. I hate what Iâve become sinceâŚâ
And you canât finish because his tears have stopped. Heâs looking at you with a new kind of anguish. The kind that you donât necessarily expect. The kind that feels like disgust.Â
âSince you started dating me?â he says like he correctly finished your statement. But thatâs not what you're going to say. Never that.
âSince you didnât need me anymore,â you whimper. âIâm not a good girlfriend, Jake. Youâd be so much happier without me. Everyone would think it if they knew.â
He stands in front of you, hollow. If they knew. He has to laugh. Thatâs the problem. No one does. You donât want them to. Itâs clear now.
âFine,â he says, and the steadiness of his voice makes you shudder. Good. This is what you wanted.Â
Heâs staring at you, jaded like he had come to terms with it. He used to love how insistent you were about your point of view on things, how firmly you stood by your opinions. Used to envy it. But now, he detests it. That stubbornness.Â
âWhatever you want,â he sighs, hands slipping in his pockets. âLetâs break up. Pretend we never happened.â
Your mouth parts. âExcuse me?â
Jake scoffs, hands tightening into a fist. Theyâre trembling, but he wonât let you see. He can do what you do. Act like heâs okay. Act like you didnât just kill him. Heâs gotten very good at that. Acting.
âIâm being honest, Jakeââ
âYou donât love me,â he cuts in. And your heart sinks. âThatâs all this is. You never show it. You never say it. And Iâm tired of hearing you pretend like youâre doing me a favor when Iâm practically begging you not to leave.â
His voice cracks, but he continues. âSo fine,â he mutters. âHave it your way. You wonât ever have to admit that we dated, start a clean slate without me. Just like you want.â
He presses his lips together and gives you one last look before he takes his hands out of his pockets. Heâs fiddling with the ring. His ring. The ring that matches yours.
âYou know,â he starts, voice trembling and bitter, âwhen it was the other way around⌠when I felt like shit about myselfâŚ. I never once thought of leaving you.â
His gaze is on the ground. âBecause I always thought I was better with you than without. Because you made me want to be better.â
His voice falters. He looks at you now, sniffling.Â
âI tried to be better.â
And in one swift motion, Jake takes off the ring. â...But you didnât even want me enough to stay.â
âJake, noââÂ
But itâs too late. You see him throw it, the bushes rustling nearby. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He shoves his hands back in his pockets and walks past you to the direction of the dorms.
âThere,â he says quietly behind you. âLike we never happened.â
He doesnât look back, doesnât even spare you a glance. Itâs only when heâs fully out of sight that you dig through the orange and red pile of leaves, through dirt and branches. Tears stream down your face as you sob, searching for it like a mad woman. Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.Â
But you canât find it. No matter how hard you try to find a silver glint in the greenery, there is nothing. And you clutch onto yours like itâs your lifeline. He threw it away. How could he throw it away?
And you wonder then if you made the biggest mistake in your life.
â
You thought the pit in your stomach would fade once you ripped the bandage, but the hole in your heart opened wider. And itâs only been a week.
Jake used to dodge questions about his love life, but now he admits to anyone with ears who walks by that heâs single. You have ears. And you walk by often. Youâre not sure if heâs taunting you or if you just want him to be.
When your eyes meet his at the one lecture you still share, heâs the first to turn away. Jake used to sit beside you, shoulder brushing yours, tilting his laptop so you could keep up when the professor switched the slides too quickly. When you pass the football field, you try not to wince when you see Choa latch onto his arm like she belongs there. He used to always pull away.Â
The worst part is that these stolen glances are all you have of him. Heâs blocked you on everything, which feels weird to think about. Jake, whoâs always gentle, always forgiving, always offering second chancesâeven to people who donât deserve it. Maybe this time youâre one of them.
You have no right to be upset. Not anymore.
And so you wrap yourself in your studies, check out new extracurriculars, even try to make new friends on campus who know nothing about Jake. You try to rebuild, try to go back in time before that fateful day in high school when you met him. But itâs been far too long.Â
He was a part of you, so deeply ingrained in your daily life. How could you act like you two never happened? Like your relationship never existed? How could he do it so well?
And then, you have to remind yourself. You'd already been doing that anyway.
â
âSo what did he do?â Jay questions, tuning his guitar while Sunghoon and you sit in his living room. âDid he tell you he was done paying for your stuff orâŚâ
âShut up,â you grumble, already agitated enough as you scroll through Sujiâs Instagram. You couldnât even muster the energy to be jealous over a photo of Jake and her holding up peace signs next to each other. You just feel empty. âNothing happened.â
Jay rolls his eyes. âHeâs usually texting one of us to get you to answer his messages by now. Itâs been crickets from him for the last two weeks.â
You swallow hard. He used to do that?
Jayâs gaze flickers toward you and sighs as he fiddles with his guitar strings. âYou know, I really donât get the two of you,â he mumbles. âLike you already rejected him in high school, youâre practically just stringing him along at this pointââ
You sit up. âExcuse me?â
He shakes his head, dropping the guitar onto his lap. âJake told us,â he starts hesitantly. âThat you ran away when he tried to confess last year.â
âBut thatâs not the full story,â you want to scream out loud.Â
âYeah,â Sunghoon laughs as if recalling a memory. âDude! Remember in the summer when he started going to the gym with me?â
Jay cringes. âYeah, and he told us it was because heâd be starting this season, but we knew it was just because you said you liked macho guys.â
You shake your head, ears warming at the thought. Thatâs insane.Â
âOh, and that stupid ass ring,â Sunghoon adds, clutching his stomach. Your hand instinctively clutches at your necklace, fingers brushing the chain. âHis mom beat the shit out of him when she found out how much he spent on it.â
You twiddle with the ring through your shirt. You should've taken it off by now. He'd already thrown his away. So what use was it leaving him if all you were going to do was hold on?
âWhy would he do all that for me?â you mutter, not realizing that you said your thoughts out loud.Â
Jay shrugs. âLove makes you do stupid things.â And then he sighs. âGo easy on him, okay? You know how he is. Jakeâs a sensitive boy. Especially when it comes to you.â
You look down at the ground, shame bubbling up in your chest. Jake loved you. He really did.
â
You smile from your view of the auditorium, even from the back, feeling like a speck of dust in the full house. A bouquet is in your hand as you nervously find your seat. Jakeâs right. Everyoneâs here to watch.
You could see Jay and Sunghoonâs tiny heads toward the front, pushing down the bitterness of not being able to sit as close as they were. It's not fair, you think. You had to buy a last minute ticket off a student who could no longer make it while they donât even like musicals. You shake your head.
This isnât about you. Itâs Jakeâs big night.Â
The lights dim. Your boyfriendâex-boyfriendâsteps onto the stage in a football jersey that looks almost exactly like his real-life one. The audience quiets at his entrance. As he delivers his cheesy opening monologue, you mouth the words with him. Heâd practiced it so much in front of you. Pride wells up in your chest. He doesnât stutter once.Â
Even when Suji joins him on stage, even as they sing together during their charactersâ first meeting, you couldnât help but smile.Â
The scenes blur as you lose yourself in the show. You watch the characters as they are and not as your ex and the girl you desperately wanted to hate. It was actually fun. The cheeky glances, the perfectly rehearsed dance scenes. The way the main character so seriously thought that singing was going to affect his football career. It made you laugh, made you tear up, made you suck in a deep breath when Jake leaned into her.Â
And because youâre still you, and because the wounds still feel fresh, you close your eyes. You donât have to know if he really did it or not. It doesnât matter. Itâs his moment.
âIf only I felt like this the whole time,â you thought to yourself. Then maybe you wouldnât have to psych yourself up to find him afterward and pour your heart out to him. You shiver at the thought.
But Jay had said it: love makes you do stupid things.
And you do. Love him.Â
Enough to buy him flowers. Enough to admit that youâre done hiding. Enough to risk asking him to love you againâeven if thereâs a chance that he already moved on.
â
âBro,â Jay starts, with tear-stained cheeks. âDonât ever do that again. I canât be crying like that in front of everybody.â
âQuit football,â Sunghoon says, patting Jake on the back with unusually red eyes. âJust focus on this musical shit. I swear you could make it big time.â
Jake chuckles, watching as the auditorium empties of guests. âThanks, guys. Iâm glad you two liked it.â
God, he wishes you were here. He could imagine exactly what youâd say when you walk up to him, with a small smile you try to suppress. Saying good job while ruffling his hair. Trying to act like you didnât cry like everyone else. Jake smiles, quietly, at his own thoughts. Itâs ridiculous, coming up with hypotheticals when youâd already made it clear. You don't want to be with him anymore.Â
âJake.âÂ
His heart instinctively skips a beat.
When he turns, the air in his lungs escapes him. Youâre holding a bouquet so big it hides most of your frame, looking at him expectantly as you push it towards him. His eyes widen, unable to speak or even take the flowers from you. Is he dreaming?
âYou did a good job,â you say, trying to sound as genuine as possible, wanting him to feel your sincerity. âYou killed it up there.â
âThanks,â he says shortly, finally taking the flowers from your hands. He canât help but stare.Â
âIââ you try to push out, but Suji rushes to the stage to tap Jake on the shoulder.
âHey.â She smiles up at him. âWe're heading out soon for the celebration. Did you still want a ride with me?â
âDamn, even musicals got afterparties?â Sunghoon mutters to Jay, who attempts to shush him.
Jake returns a smile. âYeah, just give me a second.â
And when he turns around to look at you, to finally hear what you have to say, your eyes are glossed over. Maybe youâre too late. Maybe this is idiotic after all. It's been weeks. There's no guarantee he'll even listen.
âI just wanted to say congratulations,â you mutter, though you've changed the words you meant to say entirely. It's supposed to be: âIâm so proud of you. Will you take me back? Iâll stop being so mean. We can tell everyone weâre in loveâyes, even Jay and Sunghoon.â
But old habits die hard. And Sujiâbeautiful fucking Sujiâcrushed every ounce of confidence you had to come up to him in the first place.
âThat's all,â you say, shooting him a small grin. It doesn't quite reach your eyes. He notices. Jake always does. Just never knows the reason why.
Before you can step back, he grabs your wrist, spinning you into his arms. Like the male leads do in those stupid romcoms.
âDon't,â he whispers. âPlease⌠don't run away this time.â
You stare up at him, searching his gaze.
âMan, what the fuck is going onâŚâ Jay whispers behind the two of you.
Sunghoon shrugs. âYou think they finallyâŚ?â
Jake turns his head to give a disgruntled look to his two idiotic friends, and they shrink, making their way down the stage to finally give the two of you more privacy. He turns his attention back to you, wrist still in his hand, and gently moves it down to take your hands in both of his.
âI thought you didn't want to come,â he starts, licking his lips through the nerves. âWhy are you here?â
Your cheeks heat up. Fuck. Where do you even start?
He draws circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. âWhy?â he asks again, more confident this time.
It would be easy to act like your old self and push out a half-assed excuse. That you just want to be supportive, even after youâve broken up. That you donât miss him at all. But you're too tired to pretend like Jake's absence in your life didnât feel worse than when you were with him.Â
âBecauseâŚâ you start, with a shaky breath. âBecause I wanted to talk to you.â
His brows furrow. âAbout what?â
And you feel your heart pumping in your chest, your palms slick with sweat. This is harder than you thought.
âI wanted toââ You swallow, taking in a deep breath before continuing. âI wanted to apologize. With the ring. The one you threw away.â
You see Jake's ears turn a bright shade of crimson. âActuallyââ
âBut I couldnât find it,â you cut in. âNo matter how hard I looked. I tried. I really, reallyâŚâ
You start to choke up. Because fuck. He'd gotten you that ring to confess to you. Spent all his pocket money so that he could get something he knew you'd love. Had it engraved with the letter J. Your Jake. Your handsome, talented, smart, and wonderful Jake.
â...really want to get back together,â you finally let out, eyes shining underneath the stage lights as tears threaten to spill over. âI'm sorry, Jake.â
His breath hitches, hands releasing yours so suddenly. Your heart clenches. âYou broke up with me,â he mutters.
You nod. âI-I thought I needed to. To find myself. But⌠you were right. I was just running away from my problems.â
You swallow hard, correcting yourself. âOur problems.â
He lets out a bitter laugh. âSo is this the part where you expect me to forgive you?â
Your heart clenches. âI'm sorry,â you say again softly.
âYou still havenât even given me a reason,â he scoffs. âSo tell me why. Why do you want to get back together whenââ
Itâs like slow motion, what you do next. You cup Jakeâs face right into your hands, crashing your lips onto his. In front of Sunghoon. In front of Jay. In front of the whole cast and crew who were packing up to leave. The same people heâs had to make excuses to about why he suddenly looked so distraught these past few weeks. You pull back, breathless.
âBecause I love you,â you say, loud enough to elicit gasps from your watchers. You donât even have it in you to be embarrassed anymore. Because the words fall naturally from your lips, like breathing. And it's like music to his ears.Â
âI fucking love you,â you repeat, hands still on his cheeks. His mouth parts open, breathless. He blinks. Once. Twice. And then he smiles, tears forming in his eyes. Jake swoops in, his lips finding yours again. His mouth moves against yours in tandem, slow and passionate. Your eyes flutter shut, soaking in the taste of him. You missed him so much.
When he pulls away, a shit-eating grin lights up his face. âFinally,â he whispers, cheeks flushed. âYou finally said it back.â
You lightly swat his shoulder. You should've known he was trying to egg you on. Jake and all his damn questions.
âI love you too,â he mutters against your temple, squeezing you against him. âI love you so much.â
He peppers kisses all over your face, and you hear gagging on the sidelines.
âDonât ever leave me again,â he mutters into your hair. âThat shit fucking hurt.â
You smile sadly. âI promiseââ
âYOU TWO WERE DATING?!â a familiar voice cries out. Of course. Nosy-ass Sunghoon. You resist the urge to drop kick him right then.
âI have a better question,â Jay pipes in. âAre we invited to this afterparty too orâŚâ
Jake furrows his brows, turning to the idiotic duo. âWhat afterparty?â
Sunghoon and Jay bombard you with questions about your secret relationship, but mainly just start arguing about who was gonna call the taxi for the party they still desperately wanted to go to, since Suji had already left.
Running far away from the auditorium, Jake and you giggle as the two idiots try to chase after you. When you both reach his dorm, he doesn't waste one second after you close the door to lift you over his shoulder. You yelp as your feet lift off the ground, squeaking when your back hits the mattress with a soft bounce.
He sets the bouquet softly on his nightstand before hovering over your frame, and his knees sink into the mattress as he traps you underneath him. Jake strokes your cheek lovingly, his hand trailing down and down until it reaches the edge of your skirt. Still as short as ever. Thighs so pretty underneath the thin fabric.
âI missed you,â he sighs, hands trailing to the edges of your panties. He strokes your plush skin, sending shivers down your spine. You want to roll your eyes, deflect the warm stirring in your core as he scans your figure, eyes clouded with lust. But youâre supposed to be turning over a new leaf. Honesty and all that.
âImissedyoutooâŚâ you mutter lowly, rushing through your words.
He moves closer, ear practically touching your lips. âHm?âÂ
You lose patience, baring your teeth and nipping his helix. He flinches, glaring at you with a playful scoff.
âYou said you weren't gonna be mean anymoreâŚâ Jake sighs, tone dripping in mockery as he pouts. And you want to say something more, but Jakeâs hands land on your ass, giving you a subtle squeeze.
You know what. You'll humor him. Just this once.
You bring your lips to the ear you just bit, kissing it lightly. Steady hands trail down the fake football jersey he adorns, and to the painful bulge of his shorts. Jake sucks in a deep breath. You chuckle, amused at how suddenly it hardens. So easy to arouse.Â
âSorry,â you whisper, licking his outer shell. He shudders against your touch, your breath on his neck triggering goosebumps all across his arms. You squeeze him through the fabric, his head falling to your shoulder. âIâll stopâŚâ
âDonât,â he lets out through ragged breaths, as you stroke him languidly. You chuckle. Heâs so cute. Cheeks tinged with pink. It makes you want to do worse things to him...
âLie down,â you command, and he gladly takes your place on the bed. Your knees encase him now, tugging his stupid jersey over his head. âLet me make it up to youâŚâ
His muscles are so well-defined, glistening under the light of your dorm room. You trail kisses down his chest, licking down his abs. Salty. Just how you like him. Jake squirms underneath you as you tug his shorts down, his dick slapping your chin on the way up as it springs free. Jake almost cums from the sight, tip flushed red and pulsing with need. To feel you. To be so buried deep inside you that he can feel the head poking through your stomach.Â
When you move your head down to kiss his hardness, he digs his fingers into your shoulder. âNo, baby,â he mutters. âCome up here, hm?â
You furrow your brows. Why the fuck was he trying to interrupt you during your apology?
âWhaââÂ
Jake cuts you short, manhandling your waist as his fingers press into your hips. He positions your knees on both sides of his head, turning you around. He pushes your mini skirt all the way up to scrunch around your midsection. Yes, you might have an amazing view of his throbbing cock, but now you can't see his beautiful fucked out face. He breathes in the scent of your panties with hooded eyes, nose grazing your clothed folds.Â
You pout. âI thought I was the one making it up to youââ
âYou are,â he chuckles, interrupting you instantly. He pushes your ass down to his face with one hand, using the other to press your chest flush against his body. Your face inches closer to his member. Oh. That's what he's doing.
âPervertâŚâ you mumble, coyly reaching out for him. So thick and large that you need to use both hands to engulf him, pre-cum dribbling out of him as if on command.Â
âI am,â he mumbles, pulling your panties low enough to give him access to your cunt, lying just below your knees. He licks a stripe up your drenched folds all the way to your puckered hole. You wither against him. âCall me whatever you want, baby. Just sit on my face when you do it.â
Your hips land down on him softly as your thumb spreads his liquid down his engorged length. This position was new to you, meaning it was also new to him. But Jake moves expertly like the quick learner he is. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your folds, pink muscle lapping at your labia like a man starved. Your tongue sticks out to offer kitten licks over his tip.Â
But Jake hasnât had you in weeks. And he knows what he wants. And itâs not the weak jutting you do against his face, or the shallow sucking you offer his engorged cock. No. He wants all of you. The sick part of you that would degrade him, that would rile yourself up like all those nights before. And he doesnât want to have to mention a stupid nickname some stupid girl said to bring it out of you.
There were more healthy methods, heâs sure, to guide you right where he wants to be. And so Jakeâs hands grip your ass, pushing you down on him harder. Forcing your hips to grind back and forth against his face at the rabid pace he sets, nose sticking in between your folds slightly as his tongue laps at your clit. Like this. Dirty. Raunchy. Aggressive. He fucking loves it.Â
âNghââ you cry out, propelling him to push himself deeper in your mouth. You take a deep breath so his cock can slide through more easily, taking as much of him as you can to drown out your warbled moans. Your tongue finds the underside of his thickness, tapping him as you start to gag. And when Jake reaches the back of your throat, he gives you a second to calm yourself before he bucks his hips up into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, remembering to hollow your cheeks as he shoots forward. But itâs hard to stay focused when his wet, pink muscle pushes into you.Â
âFuckâTaste so good, babyââ The squelching sounds that mix with Jakeâs moans against your bundle of nerves are obscene, sucking and flicking his tongue with a fervor you try to match now. Your tongue curls up to meet the underside of his girth, bobbing your head up and down with ferocity. Anything to please him.Â
âMmmmââ you moan around him. Your mouth feels so fucking good, but your pussy on his lips was like actual heaven. He could eat you out all day. As a reward. As a punishment. Anything.Â
And he breathes your scent in again, groaning once more. He pushes his nose closer to your folds, the tip of it engulfed in your wetness. You almost gag around his dick at the intrusion, saliva pooling at the base of his cock. You wrap your thighs around him tighter, bouncing on his face like he was nothing but a sex toy. Erratic. Desperate. Yes. Just like that. Fuck him like you never want him out of your sights again.
He knows you're close, knows by the way you start scratching at his thighs like an agitated pet. But, no. Jake needs it. Needs you to cum all over his face. Make a mess on him. Of him. His tongue plunges into you now, index finger coming up to play with your clit.
His cock pops out of your mouth with little resistance as your body goes slack with pleasure. You're just licking at his dick with a loose hand at this point, eyes rolling back from ecstasy.Â
You whimper against the slickness of his sloppy mouth, drool continuing to fall out of the corners of your mouth through your slurred speech. âNghâNoâLet meâFuckâJakeeeeââ you try to say, but it all sounds nonsensical.
Jake understands, more than you know, as his heart constricts so deliciously. 'My poor baby,' he thinks. Just wants to make him feel good. Wants to make it up to him so bad. But you donât know that the only thing that could make him happy right now is for you to choke him out with your sopping cunt.Â
âMmmâNghâAhhââ Heâs too good down there. Too fucking messy. Why does he do this? Why does he love making you sound like a fucking animal? Your toes curl, the grip around his shaft tightening as your back arches even more into him.Â
You feel it. But it's different from usual. It feels like too much. Like an impending explosion. You claw at his thigh even more, all of a sudden panicked. âJakeâLet goâJakeââÂ
When he shakes his head, his tongue swipes your clit left and right. His grip on your ass pushes his nose more deeply into your soaked folds. You whimper, cheek nuzzling against his length in desperation.Â
âI'm seriousâŚ.â you whine as you try to pull away. This is weird. You feel weird. You try to run away from it, that foreign feeling. But it's no use. Jake's too smart, too quick. He presses you down on him harder, hugging your waist, suctioning your clit, cheeks flushed from how quickly his mouth works against you.Â
âJAKE!â you scream as your thighs clamp around him, hips shuddering uncontrollably. Like a hose turning on for the first time, a spray of your juices lands onto Jake's chin and neck, coating him in your dampness. He welcomes it, tongue sticking out to taste as much of it as he can.
You cry above him, tears landing on his dick that still rubs against your heated face. He laps up every last remaining bit of your climax desperately, like theyâd dry up too quickly if he didnât. You whine, grinding yourself on him to steady your heart rate. When heâs fully satisfied, Jake frees you from his clutches, lying you down on the bed so your head can finally rest on a pillow.
His cock is still incredibly stiff. And you're still in tears.
âYou⌠fucking⌠dick,â you say in between sniffles, not believing you could ever climax that hard in your life. âWhere the fuck did you learn how to do that?â
And he knows whatâs going through your head. Because old habits do, in fact, die hard. And now you probably think he was out fucking anyone and everyone during the weeks-long hell that was your breakup. Jake chuckles, pulling your skirt down. He bites his bottom lip at the sight of your folds. Glistening with his saliva and your juices. He fists himself tightly.Â
âStill so jealous, baby?â He smirks. God, please let him indulge in his pouty girlfriend at least once more.
âNo, but be honest,â you mumble. âDid youââ
âFuck other girls?â he finishes your sentence, scoffing playfully at the ridiculousness. Your eyes narrow.
âWell, did you?â
Jake spent almost every day crying, unblocking and blocking your number over and over again just to see if you'd notice. But he can tell you all that later. Because right now, you're giving him a death glare that only makes his cock throb harder.Â
âNo, babe,â he mutters, swiping his wet tip against your even more drenched folds. So puffy after all he's put it through. He peppers kisses on your shoulder. âYou know Iâd never.â
And you do. Heâs only ever been with you. Will only ever be with you. You know that. But still. The wheels are already turning in your head. You know⌠you're usually the one worried about these things. Doesn't he deserve a taste of his own medicine?
âImagine if I didââ
And he slams his dick into your plushness, eliciting a scream from you. He doesnât even let you complete your evil plan.
âFUCKââ
âDon't finish that sentence,â Jake glowers, brows furrowed. You lick your lips deliciously. "That's not funny."
âSee how it feels?â you whimper, as he delivers another harsh thrust, your shirt riding up your stomach from the impact. You arch your back off of the bed as Jake groans into your neck, licking a stripe up your jaw.
âAll this just âcause I made you squirt,â he mumbles angrily, wincing as your pulsing walls squeeze his length into a tighter grip. âSo fucking immature.â
You chuckle evilly. âImmature like who? Sunghoââ
His childhood friendâs name doesn't even leave your lips when Jake clamps his teeth into your neck. Hard. âOWââ
A taste of your own medicine. But his skin grazes something thenâa thin chain that he's seen before but never questioned. You never wore it when you fucked. A circular hardness underneath your shirt that weirdly looks likeâŚ
He tugs on it before you can protest, and there on the chain is a ring. With J engraved on the inside. His gaze softens. And you become a blumbering mess underneath him, shy with embarrassment. âI canâExplainâJustââÂ
Jake pulls out enough so his tip is the only thing suctioned in your folds before pistoning into you harshly once more. You whimper.
âShut up and let me fuck you,â he mutters into your ear, before engulfing your lips in his. With a newfound energy, Jake pounds into you with urgency, pace brutal against your already sore pussy. His hand comes up to grab your tits, spilling over your bra from the impact of his movements. So rough. So mean. Damn, you were rubbing off on him.
You have this aching desire to flip him over and ride him back into submission, but the slapping of his hips into yours devolves your thoughts into unintelligible moans.Â
âNgahâFuckâOh my godââ
Jakeâs mouth leaves yours as his eyes travel downwards to the piece of jewelry. He likes how it looks on you. Sitting so nice between your bouncing breasts. Maybe, heâd buy you a necklace next. A pretty Tiffany necklace to go with the pretty Tiffany ring on his pretty girlfriendâs pretty finger. Fuck. Youâre so fucking pretty.
He brings the ring up to his mouth, biting down on the metal, before he lowers himself onto your lips once more. With the ring in between his teeth, he grabs at your jaw to open for him. Jake transfers it over to your parted lips as you catch the ring with your tongue, coated in his saliva. He dives down into you, your tongues battling as the coolness of the metal moves between your mouths. His thrusts are slower now, but you moan just the same.
Drool drips down both of your lips, the ring getting passed between you two in the movements of your open-mouthed kisses. He lets up, the necklace falling wetly onto the pillow. He admires the red marks the chain leaves on your neck. Maybe a Tiffany choker instead?
And his thrusts deepen, until your cervix repeatedly kisses his mushroom tip. He wished you could see your expression right now. So needy. So perfect.Â
âJakeâBabyââ When the pet name leaves your lips, Jake lets out a deep, guttural groan. Like he'd been waiting his whole life for you to say it.
âYes, baby?â He repeats after you, sweat beading down his forehead as he continues to split you open, pumping into your tightness with urgency. His hands are pushing your thighs open now, admiring how the ring sits sloppily on your neck as he jackhammers into you.
âI love you,â you moan out, your hands reaching for his face. âI love you so much.â
He looks at you with glassy eyes, soft and tender. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.Â
âI love you too.âÂ
And he spreads you apart further, fucking you into the squeaking mattress with his pulsing dick, so big that it fills you everywhere you need him. He pushes in and out, evoking a new set of tears to stain your cheeks. âBaby,â you cry out. âI'm almostââ
âWait for me,â he pleads, elbows falling to the sides of your head. He buries himself in the crook of your neck. âCan you, baby? Pleaseââ
You try to nod as he's ramming into you as deep as he can go. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, about how good you are for him, how pretty, how perfect, how he loves the marks you leave him, how he wants you to control him, how youâre the only one heâd ever be with in any lifetime ever.
âNghââ His hips snap forward with everything he can give. He feels it now, too. That coil that threatens to spill inside you. But he can't. No condom. No birth control.Â
And when your hips rise, clenching around him, your orgasm hits you like a truck. You mewl out in pleasure, crying as Jake tries to pull out of you. But you suction him so well, too well, that it's a little too late. He twitches deep inside of your pussy. And his mouth falls open as the first spurts of cum spill, but nothing escapes his lips.Â
âFuck, baby,â he whines. He needs to pull out. But your cunt feels so damn good⌠So warm⌠So wet⌠And so much of himself has already spilled inside you⌠It's okay, right? To fill you up with all of it? But he has self-control. He swears it.
âNoâŚâ You whimper when he actually pulls away, his seed dribbling everywhere.
â...âm sorry, babe,â he groans, as his hand wraps around himself, stroking languidly. âIâm so sorry.â
Jakeâs cheeks are flushed as he pumps the remainder of his climax on your drenched folds, painting your clit a milky white. He sees the first of his juices push out of you, his fluids like cream all over your puffiness.
âFuck,â he moans, his fingers coming up to spread it all across your folds. But when you look down, all you feel is empty. All you feel is the need to push down against his fingers and take him all over again.Â
Jake's eyes widen as he lets out a shaky breath. You look so desperate. For what? He's not sure. But he can't deny his baby anything. He can't deny himself either. He wants to see it just once. Seems like you do too.Â
âCan I?â he asks in a low whisper, fingers spreading your folds apart to watch more of his load seep out of you. And you nod, shyly, relieved you didnât have to beg for it yourself, already going through too much exposure therapy for one day.
And so Jake gathers the cum that's gushed over his digits, and with a shaky breath, he pushes them back into you. You tighten your grip on his biceps.
âFuuuuckââ You cry out when he starts pumping them in and out, slow but still so fucking deep. His veiny fingers always know which parts to knead.Â
Jakeâs eyes are in a daze, obsessed with how his cum goes back in so easilyâeven when youâre still so tight and so sensitive. Everything feels so fucking drenched. And like this, he wants to see you come undone again.
âOne more, babyâŚâ he pleads in a low whisper, pressing butterfly kisses on your eyelids. He licks the tears that spill from your eyes. So pretty like this. âYou want to make it up to me, right?â
You can only whine in response, hands shaking as they clutch onto him for dear life.Â
âHm?â He asks for confirmation, curling his fingers up to the spongy spot inside you. He grinds his palm on your engorged clit. Whimpering out a pathetic âyes,â you let the pleasure overtake you once again. Your body feels like it's on fire. Too hot. Too much. But still, your back arches up into him, whimpering.
âCome on,â he whispers into your ear. Low and steady. âGive it to me.â
And you can practically hear the mess that his three fingers are creating as they pump into your folds, can feel the stickiness of your mixed juices coat your inner walls. But you shut your eyes, letting the warm tingling overtake your core. YesâRight thereâFuckâ
âI'Mââ you screech, but it's no use. Your head falls back against the pillow as you sob. And Jake curses underneath his breath as you spray all over him once again, massaging your clit as he pulls his fingers out to watch. Your hips rise to meet nothing, just your body spraying so beautifully against his torso. His dick could harden once more any second now from the sight. He relishes in it, admiring his work as his cum pushes out of you again. Thick and creamy.
You look down too, seeing the fucked-out state he's put your body into. Maybe you would've been right to flick his forehead and call him every insult in the book for filling you up like that. But fuck. Could you ever have him cum outside of you again if it felt that good to have his cum inside you? No, you'd definitely need to get on the pill ASAP.
Jakeâs gaze falls onto your face now, at your bruised lips and your dried tears. But the ring catches his eye once more, the one he hadnât seen in a year. And his heart flutters.
âBabe?â he starts, lying softly next to you. He wraps you in his arms, not minding the dampness of the sheets below. Heâll clean you up later.
âMmm?â You respond, on the brink of unconsciousness. Satiated. He touches your chain, the other hand wrapped around your stomach, giving a reassuring squeeze.
âHow long have you been wearing our ring like this?â Your breath catches. You'd hoped that he'd forgotten, that the conversation could wait for the morning when your heart wasn't thumping so loud. It takes you a second before you respond.
âSince you gave it to me,â you admit, slowly. Jake can feel the warmth creep up to your ears. And he wonders how he's never seen it, how you seem to hide it so well after all the times he's undressed you before. But then again, youâve always been good at keeping secrets.
Still, he smiles. Because even after you walked away, even when you said you were done, you still kept this piece of him. Wore it so beautifully around your neck, too.
Fuckâheâs never letting you walk out on him like that again. If you even hint at breaking up, he might actually end up begging on his knees andâ
âNot like it matters anyway,â you cut through the silence grumpily. âYou threw yours away.â
He lets out a surprised laugh and pulls you closer, squeezing you tight. You pout. Whatâs he so jolly for?
âWhat do you mean?â he asks cheekily. âThat never happened.â
You turn around abruptly, facing him with furrowed brows. âI literally saw youââ
Your words are cut short when his mouth finds yours, one hand steadies your jaw as the other reaches blindly into his nightstand. A drawer opens. He pulls back just enough to show you the turquoise box, one eerily similar to the one you have in your closet, as he flips it open.
His ring. Silver and engraved with your initial. But how�
âI guess I'm really good at pretending to throw things,â he answers before you can even ask. Thought Iâd be a little dramatic that dayâŚâ
You smack his shoulder, but your hand massages the spot soon after, swallowed by the wave of relief that crashes over you. He didn't really let go like he made it seem. He was still yours, even when you thought you lost him.Â
âWhat the hell is wrong with you?!â you grumble, pinching his cheek. All he does is chuckle.Â
In one smooth motion, Jake lifts your necklace and unclasps it, letting the ring unfurl out and into his palm. You donât stop him.Â
He looks at you for a second, as if asking for permission. You offer Jake your hand instead of speaking. He slips the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger, kissing your knuckles. Then he slides his own ring back where it belongs, to where heâs always kept it. Jake smiles up at you, planting another sweet kiss on your lips.
And you know youâll wear it proudly this time. Without him having to ask.Â
âI love you?â he says, gently, like he needs to hear you say it back just one more time. Just to make sure. And you kiss him again, warmth coating your features.
âI love you too.â
His heart clenches in the best way possible.
Damn, he could really get used to this.
epilogue
Jake runs to the benches, grabbing at his water bottle like itâs his last salvation. He gulps it all down in seconds, sweat seeping down his body. Practice was way too intense today.
âOh my god, Jakey,â a lilting voice punctures through his ear. âYou're literally dripping.â
His eye twitches as she enunciates the last word.Â
âChoa,â he starts, shooting daggers at her. He's too exhausted to put up with this today. Or ever. She was graduating in a few months anyway. He might as well say his piece. âFirst of all, my name is Jake. And second of all, it makes me really uncomfortable when you say things like that.â
Choa pouts, tugging his sleeve like a toddler. âWhy?â she giggles. âDo I make you nervous?â
âNo.â He pulls away, not even bothering to look at her. âI just don't appreciate how you talk to me.â
She glowers, thrown off by his disposition. He's usually so sweet, so polite. What happened?
âIt's âcause of your friend isn't it? You know she was so fucking rude to meââ
âMy girlfriend,â he corrects immediately. Choaâs hands drop down to her sides. Jake pays her no mind, packing his stuff into his duffle bag instead.
âW-what?â she stutters out. âSince when?â
He shrugs, finally slinging his bag over his shoulder. âSince forever.â
âWhat?!â she screeches. âHow come you never toldââ
âOh Jakeyyyy,â you sing out in an octave higher than your regular speaking voice. He presses his lips together to prevent the laughter that almost seeps through his mouth.
âYeah, babe?â He calls out, looking past Choa. You're standing with your arms crossed, eyeing her down from a few meters away. A bright new necklace shining above your shirt.Â
Your gaze flickers back to him, not bothering to waste your precious energy on the small, vicious girl. You tilt your head to the side, beckoning him over in a silent command. And he follows.
Your loyal little puppy.
Jake takes your hands into his just to really rub salt on Choa's wound, your matching rings clinking against each other.
âDo you remember Gaeul from the backstage crew?â you announce proudly, the bob-headed girl long-forgotten. âShe wants to hang out with me tomorrow!â
Jake smiles, ruffling your hair. âThatâs great!â
âShe's throwing something at her apartment this weekend, too,â you slide in. âMaybe⌠we can go together?â
âOh yeah, Suji told meââ And he stops himself. But itâs too late. Youâre already frowning.
âOkay, so let me go ahead and take Jay insteadâŚâ And he pouts at your words.
âNot fair,â he mutters, but you see the smile he suppresses. 'What a freak,' you think to yourself.
You click your tongue, squeezing his hand a little tighter. â...I'm biting the shit out of you later.â
And if Jake had a tail, it most definitely wouldâve started wagging.
genre: college au, eventual simp x simp dynamic, smut, slow burn
synopsis: getting partnered with jake, the tall awkward nerd from on of your computer science classes, should've been simpleâwork on the project, get your grade, move on. except now you're completely obsessed with him and he's totally clueless about it. between tutoring sessions you definitely don't need and "coincidental" dorm hall run-ins, you're pulling out all the stops. too bad jake's more interested in his textbooks than your very obvious flirting.
you've never been rejected before, so this should be fine.
âŚright?
warnings (MDNI 18+ only!!) : smut (oral sex(f. and m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, size difference, big dick!jake, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk!jake, dry humping, heavy makeout, whiny!jake), cursing, mild alcohol use, emotional manipulation, jealousy, themes of insecurity, angst, lots computer science related terms(i kind of geeked out here), reader's kind of delulu and a jerk
note: i'm back to my writing style for lighthearted fics for this one hehe. i lovelovelove nerdy shy men tropes sooo much. i did try to keep it a little realistic though. i hope you like this! enjoyyy
word count: 21.8k
taglist | more works!
you were alone in the computer science lab at nearly midnight, which wasn't unusual. assignments had a way of turning the building into a second home. but tonight felt wrong. everything felt too much. the lights buzzed too loud, drilling into your skull with that persistent electrical hum. your eyes burned from staring at your screen for four hours straight, vision going fuzzy at the edges. somewhere around hour three, you'd stopped actually processing code and started just staring through it.
your cold coffee sat forgotten beside your laptop, abandoned but still somehow necessary because the alternative was admitting defeat and going back to your dorm where your roommate and her boyfriend were probably still taking up the entire common space. you'd rather deal with this. the overstimulation. the way every tiny sound felt amplified in the empty lab. the aggressive brightness of your laptop screen. the uncomfortable pressure building behind your eyes that meant you were about to either cry or throw your laptop across the room. probably both.
your code wasn't working. hadn't been working for two days, and you'd tried everything. every forum suggestion, every stack overflow solution, every pathetic office hours visit where you'd explained your problem three times and still left confused. the cursor blinked at you on line two thousand and forty seven, mocking. the compiler kept throwing errors you didn't understand, and you'd rewritten that function six times already. your hands shook slightly from too much caffeine and not enough food. that tight, hot feeling crept up your throat. the one that signalled imminent breakdown.
you pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw spots, trying to reset something in your overwhelmed nervous system. didn't work. nothing worked tonight.
the silence in the lab was the worst part, it was so quiet that it made you hyper-aware of your own breathing, your heartbeat, the small wet sound your tongue made against the roof of your mouth when you swallowed. you hated it.
then suddenly, the power cut out. total darkness that swallowed everything in an instant, your laptop screen going black, even the emergency exit signs disappearing. your heart kicked into overdrive, adrenaline flooding so fast you felt dizzy. you reached out instinctively for your laptop, fingers scrabbling across the desk, needing to confirm it was still there, that everything you'd been working on wasn't just gone.
suddenly you heard footsteps. someone else was in the lab. you hadn't known anyone else was here. the realisation sent fear spiking through your chest because you'd been so certain you were alone. now there was someone moving closer, footsteps uneven and hurried like they couldn't see any better than you. you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could form words there was sudden pressure against your shoulder, hard and unexpected, and then there was the splash of cold liquid, spreading across your lap and chest.
your coffee. the cup tipped and spilt, liquid soaking through your jeans, spreading sticky and uncomfortable across your thighs. panic hit first, pure and primal, because for a split second all you could think was laptop, everything's gone, hours of work, my entire project. your hands flew out in the darkness, patting frantically at the desk, trying to assess the damage. your chest was so tight you couldn't get a full breath.
then came the anger. fast and hot and overwhelming, rising from somewhere deep in your stomach. you wanted to scream. wanted to grab whoever crashed into you and shake them. wanted to cry from sheer frustration because this was exactly what you didn't need tonight, not when you were already hanging on by a thread.
"oh my god, oh my god, i'm so sorry, i didn't see you, i didn't think anyone else was here, i'm so sorry." the voice came rapid-fire from somewhere to your left. male, young, pitched higher than normal with genuine distress.Â
he kept apologising, words tumbling over each other, and there was something in his tone that didn't sound rehearsed. he sounded actually afraid, like he'd just committed some unforgivable sin.Â
"i didn't mean to, i couldn't see, the power just went out and i was trying to get to the door and i'm so sorry, did it get on your laptop? please tell me it didn't get on your laptop."
you took a breath, trying to force words past the tightness in your throat, trying to formulate some response that matched the fury still coursing through your veins. your mouth opened, something sharp and cutting right on the edge of your tongue.
the emergency lighting kicked in. not much, just pale green strips along the baseboards casting everything in eerie, insufficient glow. enough to see by. enough to make out shapes, faces.
the guy who'd run into you stood about two feet away, and the first thing you noticed was his hands. hovering in the air between you, trembling visibly even in the dim light, fingers spread like he wanted to help but didn't dare touch anything. he was tall and lean, dark hair stuck up in odd directions like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. glasses had slipped down his nose, and behind them his eyes were wide. genuinely panicked in a way that didn't feel performed at all.
"your laptop," he said, voice still shaking with that same desperate concern. "what model is it? did the coffee get on it? the keyboard is the main concern, if liquid got into the keyboard we need to shut it down immediately and flip it over to drain, we need to know if you had everything backed up."Â
he was already moving closer, trembling hands reaching toward your desk, and you realised with a start that he hadn't even looked at you properly yet. his entire focus was on your laptop. on the problem he'd created. on fixing it.
"it's fine," you managed, voice coming out rougher than intended. you looked down at your computer. sitting safely to the right of where your coffee had been, completely dry and unharmed. "it didn't get on it."
the relief that washed over his face was so profound you almost felt embarrassed witnessing it. his shoulders sagged. his hands finally dropped to his sides. he let out a long, shaky breath like he'd been holding it since the collision.
 "okay. okay, that's good, that's really good." then, almost as an afterthought, his eyes finally moved to actually look at you. taking in your coffee-soaked lap, your tense posture, your expression which you were sure wasn't friendly. "are you okay? did you get burned? that coffee looked hot, if it was hot we should get you to a sink, run cold water on it."
"it was cold," you said. true, but didn't make the situation better. your jeans were soaked through, fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin, coffee starting to seep into your chair. you were sticky and irritated and still running on too much adrenaline. but he looked so genuinely distressed that some of your anger started deflating despite yourself.
"cold coffee is still a problem," he said, already pulling his backpack off his shoulder, unzipping it with fumbling fingers. "the sugar content means it'll get sticky when it dries, and it can stain, especially on lighter fabrics. i have napkins, i think, or maybe paper towels, i definitely have something."Â
he was rummaging through his bag now, pulling out crumpled papers, a graphing calculator, several pens, tangled earbuds, talking the entire time in that same rapid, anxious way.Â
"i'm really sorry, i should have been more careful, i knew the power was out, i should have used my phone flashlight, i just thought i knew the layout well enough to navigate in the dark but obviously i was wrong."
you watched him. something uncomfortable shifted in your chest. you'd been prepared to snap at him, to unleash all your accumulated frustration on whoever had been careless enough to run into you. but he wasn't making excuses. wasn't trying to minimise what he'd done or deflect blame or make some joke to lighten the mood. he was just genuinely, almost painfully concerned about the problem he'd created. the way he kept apologising, kept trying to fix things, made it very hard to stay angry.
"here," he said triumphantly, producing a small pack of tissues from the bottom of his bag. he held them out, then seemed to realise how inadequate they were and let out a frustrated sound. "these aren't going to be enough. we should go to the bathroom, get some actual paper towels. or maybe the kitchen area on the second floor, they have those industrial dispensers that are way more absorbent."Â
he paused, finally seeming to register that you hadn't moved, that you were just sitting there watching him. his ears went red, visible even in the dim green emergency lighting. "sorry, i'm sorry, i'm doing it again. my sister always tells me i go into problem-solving mode when i'm anxious and it makes people feel like i'm not actually listening to them. are you okay? like, actually okay, not just physically okay?"
the question caught you off guard. nobody had asked you that in days. maybe weeks. everyone just assumed you were fine because you were handling things, meeting deadlines, showing up to class. but this stranger who'd just spilt coffee all over you was looking at you with genuine concern, waiting for a real answer. something in your chest felt suddenly too tight.
"i'm fine," you said, softer than intended. you took the tissues from him, dabbing uselessly at your jeans. he was right. they weren't nearly enough. but the gesture felt important somehow. "it's been a long night."
"assignments?" he asked. when you nodded he made a sympathetic noise. "yeah, same. i've been here since six. had a project deadline at midnight but then the power went out fifteen minutes before and now i don't know if my submission went through because the wifi died with the electricity." he pushed his glasses up his nose. nervous gesture you got the impression he did frequently.Â
"i'm jake, by the way. jake sim. i feel like i should probably introduce myself since i just, like, assaulted you with your own beverage."
despite everything, ruined jeans and exhaustion and broken code, you felt the corner of your mouth twitch. not quite a smile, but close. "assaulted me with my own beverage?"
"well, yeah," he said, looking vaguely embarrassed. "i mean, i weaponised your coffee against you. that's technically assault, right? or maybe battery? i always get those mixed up. my roommate's a poli-sci major, he'd know."
 he was rambling now, words spilling out in that same anxious rush, and there was something almost endearing about how completely lacking in artifice it was. he wasn't trying to be charming. wasn't trying to be funny. just genuinely nervous and dealing with it by talking too much.
you told him your name. he repeated it carefully, like he was committing it to memory. "i really am sorry," he said again, quieter this time. "what were you working on? before i interrupted?"
"data structures project," you said. just thinking about it made your shoulders tense again. "it's due tomorrow and there's a bug i can't figure out and i've been staring at it for hours."
his eyes lit up behind his glasses, spark of interest that transformed his whole face. "what kind of bug? runtime error? logic error? is it a pointer issue? those are always the worst, especially with linked lists."
 he was already moving closer to your laptop, stopping himself at the last second like he'd realised he was being presumptuous. "sorry, i mean, i could take a look if you want? i'm pretty good with data structures. it's kind of my thing. i'm a TA for comp 201 actually, so i see a lot of common bugs. but also totally no pressure, i know i just dumped coffee on you so you probably don't want my help."
you should have said no. didn't know this guy, didn't owe him anything. you'd been managing just fine on your own. except you hadn't been managing fine. you'd been on the verge of a breakdown in an empty lab at midnight. now here was this nervous, rambling stranger offering help without expecting anything in return, looking at you like your problem was genuinely important to him.
it was disorienting. how quickly your anger had evaporated, replaced by something you couldn't quite name. you found yourself noticing details you shouldn't care about. the way he kept pushing his glasses up. the way his hands had finally stopped shaking now that he had something concrete to focus on.
"okay," you heard yourself say. his whole face brightened in a way that made something flutter uncomfortably in your stomach. "yeah, if you don't mind looking at it."
"i don't mind at all," he said quickly, already pulling up a chair. he left careful distance between you though, hyper-aware of not invading your space again. "show me what you've got."
you turned your laptop toward him. he leaned in, eyes scanning the lines with immediate focus. his expression shifted into something concentrated, intense. this was probably what he looked like when he wasn't tripping over people in the dark and panicking about it. he started asking questions about your implementation, your logic, what you'd already tried. his voice had lost that nervous edge. this was clearly where he was comfortable. in the clean logic of code, in problems that had solutions.
you answered his questions. watched as he nodded, occasionally pushing his glasses up, finger tracing lines of code on the screen without quite touching it. the emergency lighting cast strange shadows across his face, highlighting his cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw, the way his brow furrowed in concentration.
you were noticing things you shouldn't notice. but you told yourself it wasn't because you found him attractive. you were just paying attention because he was helping. because he'd disrupted your solitary misery and replaced it with something else. something that felt almost like companionship.
"there," he said suddenly, pointing to a line in the middle of your function. "you're incrementing the counter before you check the condition, but you need to check the condition first. it's causing an off-by-one error. see? you're accessing index n when your array only goes up to n minus one."
you stared at the line he was indicating. slowly, horribly, you realised he was right. such a simple mistake, the kind of thing you should have caught hours ago. but you'd been too tired, too frustrated, too deep in your own head to see it. "oh my god," you said quietly. "that's it. that's the whole problem."
"easy fix," jake said, smiling now. a real smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "just move that line down two spaces and add the conditional check first. you want me to...?" he gestured at your keyboard, asking permission. you nodded, watched as he made the adjustment with quick, confident keystrokes. "there. try running it now."
you hit compile, holding your breath. for the first time in two days the program ran without errors. the output printed exactly the way it was supposed to. clean and correct and perfect. relief flooded through you so intensely you felt dizzy with it, all the tension you'd been carrying suddenly releasing at once. "thank you," you said, voice more emotional than intended. "seriously, thank you, i've been losing my mind over this."
"it happens to everyone," jake said gently. "sometimes you just need fresh eyes. i've definitely been there." he leaned back in his chair, that nervous energy returning now that the immediate problem was solved. "your code is really clean, by the way. like, really well-structured. that bug was literally the only issue, everything else is solid."
the compliment settled warm in your chest. you realised with a start that you felt calm. actually calm, for the first time all night. your heart rate had slowed. your hands were steady. the overwhelming pressure behind your eyes had eased.
the lab was still too quiet, the emergency lighting still eerie and insufficient, your jeans still soaked with cold coffee. but somehow none of it felt as unbearable as it had fifteen minutes ago. and that was because of him. because jake had crashed into you in the dark and apologised too much and fixed your code and made you feel less alone in this empty building at midnight.
jake was gathering his things, shoving papers and pens back into his backpack with the same energy he'd had while searching for tissues. "i should probably try to find someone about the power situation," he said. "and you should probably change before that coffee stains permanently. there's a campus store in the student centre that's open twenty-four hours, they have overpriced sweatpants but at least they're dry."
"yeah," you said, surprised to find you didn't want him to leave yet. "yeah, i probably should."
he stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, and hesitated. "hey, um. if you ever need help with code stuff again, or if you just want to work in the lab at the same time, i'm here most nights. usually not spilling beverages on people, but, you know. tonight was special." he smiled awkwardly. you found yourself smiling back, a real smile this time.
"i might take you up on that," you said. meant it.
jake's expression brightened again. that same transformation you'd noticed earlier. he nodded. "cool. yeah, that would be cool. okay. i'm gonna go now before i accidentally break something else." he gave you a small wave, started toward the door, then turned back. "your code really is good, by the way. i wasn't just saying that."
then he was gone, disappearing into the dark hallway beyond the lab. you were alone again. but that realisation, that awareness that a stranger's clumsy kindness had affected you so much, sat uncomfortable and warm in your chest as you saved your work and finally, finally, packed up to leave.
you walked into your lecture the next morning running on four hours of sleep and caffeine-induced alertness that felt vaguely hallucinogenic. your jeans from last night were balled up in your laundry basket, probably stained beyond saving, and you'd thrown on the first clean thing you could find.Â
you slid into your usual spot next to yunjin, who was already comparing notes with beomgyu across the aisle. they were your people. your safe zone. the ones you'd suffered through intro courses with, pulled all-nighters with, shared desperate pre-exam breakdowns with.
"you look like death," yunjin said cheerfully, not looking up from her phone.
"thanks. love you too."
"late night?" beomgyu leaned over, stealing one of yunjin's chips. "you missed the group chat meltdown about the algorithms homework."
you hummed noncommittally, pulling out your laptop. your code from last night was still open, that perfect, error-free output staring back at you. you'd submitted it at 12:47 am, seventeen minutes after jake had fixed it. seventeen minutes after he'd disappeared down that dark hallway.
you hadn't told yunjin and beomgyu about any of it. the power outage, the coffee, jake. especially jake. it felt somehow private, like explaining it would cheapen it or make it feel less significant than it had been in the moment.
professor kim walked in, and the room settled into that particular brand of restless attention that morning lectures always had. "alright, alright," she said, pulling up a slide that made half the room groan in unison. "i know you're all thrilled to hear this, but it's time to discuss your semester-long project."
chairs scraped against floors as people twisted around to look at their friends. voices overlapped, people already calling out names, forming pairs out of habit and convenience. you felt yunjin's hand on your arm at the same time beomgyu leaned over.
"partners?" yunjin said.
"obviously we're doing a group," beomgyu added. "the three of us, right?"
you nodded, half-listening, your attention already drifting across the lecture hall. you weren't sure what you were looking for until you found it. him. jake was sitting near the back with a small group of guys you vaguely recognised from other cs classes. he was hunched slightly over his notebook, pen moving across the page, taking notes while everyone else was busy forming alliances. his hair was even messier today, sticking up on one side like he'd rolled out of bed. his glasses kept sliding down his nose and he kept pushing them back up with his index finger, that same nervous gesture from last night.
he looked small somehow, despite being tall. like he was trying to take up less space. one of his friends said something and laughed, nudging jake's shoulder, but jake just smiled politely without really engaging. his attention stayed on his notebook.
you watched him for a moment longer than necessary. watched the way his shoulders curved inward, the way he held his pen, the concentrated furrow of his brow. something in your chest did an uncomfortable little flip.
"so we're agreed then?" yunjin was saying. "i'll handle the frontend, beomgyu can do the database stuff, and you canâ"
you stood up. the decision happened before you'd fully processed it, your body moving on instinct or impulse or something you didn't want to examine too closely. your chair scraped loud enough that a few people glanced over.
"actually," you said, already stepping past beomgyu into the aisle. "i'm gonna partner with someone else."
"what?" yunjin's voice pitched up in genuine confusion. "who?"
but you were already walking. moving up the steps toward the back of the lecture hall, weaving between people who were still negotiating partnerships and arguing about skill distributions. you were aware of people watching. of yunjin and beomgyu's matching expressions of confusion. of the way conversations paused as you passed.
jake's friends noticed you first. one of them, a guy with bleached hair, nudged jake's arm and nodded in your direction. another one went quiet mid-sentence, eyes tracking your approach with unconcealed curiosity. jake looked up last, following their gazes, and when his eyes met yours he froze. actually froze, pen suspended over his notebook, lips slightly parted like he'd been about to say something and forgotten how.
you stopped at the edge of their row. suddenly hyperaware of how many people were definitely watching this interaction. "hey," you said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near awkward. "you have a partner yet?"
jake blinked. once, twice. his friends were staring at him now, then at you, then back at him like they were watching a tennis match. "iâwhat?"
"for the project," you clarified, gesturing vaguely at professor kim who was still explaining requirements at the front of the room. "do you have a partner?"
"iâ" jake's hand came up to push his glasses up his nose even though they hadn't moved. his ears were already turning red. "no? i mean, no, i don't, butâ" he glanced at his friends, then back at you, looking genuinely lost. "are youâdo you meanâ"
"i'm asking if you want to partner up," you said, more directly this time. your heart was doing something weird and arrhythmic in your chest. "for the semester project."
the guy with bleached hair made a noise that might have been a strangled laugh. another one of jake's friends just gaped openly. jake himself looked like you'd just spoken to him in a language he only half understood. "you want toâwith me?"
"yeah."
"butâ" he gestured helplessly toward where yunjin and beomgyu were sitting, both of them now watching with unconcealed shock. "don't you usually work with your friends? i thoughtâ"
"i'm asking you," you said, cutting him off before he could talk himself out of it or before you could overthink what you were doing. "if you already have other plans it's fine, i just thoughtâ" you paused, scrambling for justification that didn't sound insane. "you're good at this stuff. you're a TA. you knew exactly what was wrong with my code last night in like, five seconds. it makes sense. strategically."
strategically. god, you sounded unhinged.
jake stared at you. his friends stared at you. half the lecture hall was probably staring at you at this point. "iâ" jake swallowed visibly. "yeah. yes. i mean, if you want to, thenâyeah. okay."
"yeah?"
"yeah." he nodded, more firmly this time, though he still looked vaguely shell-shocked. "we canâyeah. that would beâyeah."
his friends exchanged glances that were absolutely loaded with unspoken communication. the bleached hair guy, jungwon you think, was grinning now, looking between you and jake like he'd just witnessed something phenomenal. "well," he said, voice thick with amusement, "this is interesting."
you ignored him. "cool. we should probably meet up sometime this week to go over the requirements?"
"yeah, definitely," jake said quickly, already pulling out his phone with hands that trembled slightly. "i canâdo you want my number? or i can get yours, orâwe could use email if that's easierâ"
"number's fine." you rattled it off, watching him type it into his contacts with endearing focus, tongue poking slightly between his teeth. when he looked up his expression was softer, less panicked. almost shy.
"okay," he said. "i'll text you?"
"sounds good."
you turned to head back down to your seat, acutely aware of the weight of multiple stares following your retreat. yunjin grabbed your arm the second you sat down, eyes wide with questions, but professor kim chose that moment to actually start the lecture and yunjin had to settle for furious whisper-hissing "what the hell was that?" while you studiously ignored her.
you pulled up your laptop, pretending to focus on the slides about project requirements and grading rubrics. but your attention kept drifting. you could feel it, that awareness of jake sitting several rows behind you. you wondered if he was taking notes. if his friends were grilling him. if his ears were still red.
you told yourself this was practical. logical. jake was skilled, focused, clearly knew his stuff. working with him made sense from a grades perspective, from an efficiency perspective. it was a smart choice. strategic, like you'd said.
but the justification felt thin even as you repeated it to yourself. because practical partnerships didn't make your pulse spike like this. strategic choices didn't leave you feeling weirdly breathless, or hyperaware of your phone in your pocket, waiting for a text that might come in an hour or a day. smart decisions didn't come with this flutter of satisfaction sitting warm and dangerous in your chest, the kind that felt unearned and a little reckless.
you'd just chosen jake over your actual friends for a semester-long project. you'd walked across the entire lecture hall in front of everyone to ask him specifically. you'd done it without planning it, without fully understanding why, acting on instinct alone.
your phone buzzed. you grabbed it maybe too quickly, ignoring yunjin's pointed look.
unknown number: hi, it's jake. from the lab? and also from just now. obviously. you know who i am. anyway this is my number.
unknown number: we can meet whenever works for you btw. i'm pretty flexible.
unknown number: sorry i'm rambling over text now apparently. i'll stop.
despite everything, despite the weirdness of the entire situation, you felt yourself smile. properly smile, which made yunjin lean over and whisper, "oh my god, you're blushing," which you absolutely were not.
you saved his number. typed out a response. deleted it. typed it again.
you: library tomorrow at 6?
his reply came almost instantly.
jake: perfect. i'll see you there.
yeah. perfect. that's exactly what this was.
you'd gotten there ten minutes early, which was ridiculous and you knew it, but you'd told yourself it was just to secure a good table. not because you were nervous. definitely not because you'd changed your shirt three times.
jake showed up at 6:02, slightly out of breath like he'd been rushing, backpack slung over one shoulder and hair even messier than usual.Â
"sorry, sorry," he said, sliding into the chair across from you. "my last class ran over and then i couldn't find my charger andâ" he stopped himself, ears going pink. "sorry. you don't need the full explanation. i'm here now."
"you're fine," you said, surprised by how much you meant it. "i just got here too."
it was a lie, but whatever.
he pulled out his laptop, a slightly battered thing covered in tech company stickers, and immediately opened what looked like a meticulously organised project folder.Â
"so i was thinking we could start by breaking down the requirements," he said, already pulling up the assignment sheet. "if we divide it into modules we can work on different parts simultaneously and then integrate everything at the end. i made a rough outline last night, but obviously we can change whatever you want."
you blinked at him. "you made an outline? already?"
"iâyeah?" he looked uncertain suddenly, like he'd done something wrong. "was thatâshould i not have? i just thought it would be helpful to have a starting point, but if you wanted to plan it togetherâ"
"no, that'sâ" you leaned closer to look at his screen, close enough that you could smell whatever soap or shampoo he used. something clean and faintly citrusy. "that's really good actually. you're like, super organised."
"oh." he pushed his glasses up, not quite meeting your eyes. "thanks. i just like having things structured, it makes the actual coding part less chaotic."
you shifted your chair around the table, closing the distance between you under the pretence of seeing his screen better. your knees almost touched under the table. jake didn't seem to notice, already walking you through his outline with the kind of focused enthusiasm that made his whole face more animated. he talked with his hands a little, you realised. small gestures that punctuated his explanations.
it was kind of endearing. he was kind of endearing, in this unpolished, genuine way that made you want to keep watching him talk even though you should probably be paying attention to the actual content of what he was saying.
"âso if we use that framework it'll save us a ton of time on the backend. does that make sense?" he glanced at you, expectant.
"yeah, totally," you said, even though you'd caught maybe half of it. "you're really good at this."
"at what?"
"explaining things. breaking stuff down." you let your voice soften deliberately, the kind of tone you'd use on someone you were interested in. testing. "you must be a really good TA."
jake's expression brightened with genuine pleasure, completely innocent. "oh, thanks! i really like teaching actually. it's really satisfying when something clicks for someone, you know?" he turned back to his laptop. "okay so for the first module, i was thinking we couldâ"
you felt something deflate slightly in your chest. he'd just. moved on. thanked you politely and redirected straight back to work like you'd commented on the weather.
you tried again twenty minutes later, when he'd finished explaining the database architecture. "seriously, how is your brain even wired like this?" you said, letting your hand rest on the table between you, close enough to his that moving a few inches would mean touching. "like, this would've taken me hours to figure out and you just see it."
"i mean, i've been coding since i was like twelve," jake said, smiling in that self-deprecating way that made your stomach flip. "my dad's a software engineer so i kind of grew up around it. you'd be just as good if you'd had the same exposure."Â
he grabbed his water bottle, took a sip, completely oblivious to the way you were looking at him. "anyway, should we start on the initial setup? i can handle the repository if you want to draft the pseudocode for the first function?"
"sure," you said, trying not to sound as frustrated as you felt.
it continued like that. you'd find little ways to compliment him, to touch his arm when he said something funny, to lean into his space. and every single time jake would light up with friendly appreciation and then just. keep going. keep working. keep being nice in this utterly platonic way that was starting to drive you slightly insane.
when you suggested taking a break and offered to buy him coffee, he'd said "oh that's so sweet, but i'm good, i don't want to lose momentum." when you'd asked about his hobbies, trying to find some common ground beyond code, he'd given you a genuine answer about gaming and soccer and then immediately asked about your hobbies with the same earnest interest he gave to literally everything.
he wasn't being cold. wasn't being dismissive. he was just. friendly. sincerely friendly in a way that suggested he thought you were also just being friendly and nothing more. the idea that you might be flirting with him clearly hadn't even crossed his mind.
it shouldn't have bothered you. it was one study session. you barely knew him. but there was something about the way he was so completely unaffected that made you want to push harder, try more obviously, make him see you the way you were apparently seeing him.
which was insane. you were being insane.
"okay i think that's a good stopping point," jake said eventually, glancing at his phone. "we got through way more than i expected, honestly. you're really fast at this."
"we work well together," you said, maybe too much emphasis on the together part.
"yeah," he agreed easily, already packing up his stuff. "this is gonna be way less painful than i thought. usually group projects are a nightmare but i think we're pretty compatible."
compatible. he said it like he was talking about software versions.
you packed up your own stuff, trying to shake off whatever weird frustrated feeling had settled in your chest. this was good. you had a competent partner who was easy to work with. that's what mattered. not whether he noticed when you laughed at his jokes or sat closer than strictly necessary.
the library had gotten dark outside while you'd been working, the early winter darkness that feeking too heavy for eight pm. you pushed through the doors together, the cold air immediately biting at your face.
"which way are you headed?" jake asked, adjusting his backpack.
you pointed toward the east side of campus. "miller hall."
jake stopped walking. just fully stopped and stared at you. "wait, seriously?"
"yeah?"
"i'm in miller," he said, and his face did this thing, this open, delighted thing like you'd just told him something genuinely exciting. "i'm on the fourth floor. what floor are you?"
"third," you said, trying to keep your voice normal even though your brain was already racing ahead. same building. same building. you lived in the same building and you hadn't known. "that'sâwhat are the odds?"
"i know, right?" jake fell into step beside you, and he seemed more relaxed now, less formal than he'd been in the library. "i can't believe we haven't run into each other before. though i guess i'm not around that much, i'm usually either in class or the lab orâ" he laughed. "okay i'm making myself sound really boring."
"no you're not," you said, maybe too quickly. "i'm the same way. especially during midterms."
"the worst," he agreed. "hey, at least now if we need to meet up for the project it's super convenient. we can literally just knock on each other's doors."
he said it so casually. so normally, like it was just a nice logistical benefit and nothing more. meanwhile your mind was already cataloguing possibilities. you could time your meals to match his schedule. figure out when he usually left for class. find reasons to be in the common areas when he might pass through. it would look natural, coincidental. just friendly neighbors running into each other.
you were already strategising.
the realisation made something uncomfortable twist in your stomach. this was. this was too much maybe. you were thinking about him too much, cataloguing details about him like you were studying for an exam. getting frustrated when he didn't respond to your flirting even though you had no actual reason to expect him to. you'd had one late-night interaction and now one study session and somehow you were already rearranging your mental map of campus to accommodate his presence in it.
"you good?" jake asked, and you realised you'd gone quiet.
"yeah, just tired."
"same." he smiled at you, easy and warm. "thanks for picking me as your partner, by the way. i know you could've worked with your friends and i'mâi'm really glad you asked me instead. i think this is gonna be fun."
fun. he was looking forward to the project because he thought it would be fun. because he liked coding and teaching and he probably thought you were a cool person to work with. he was just. happy to have company. happy to make a new friend.
meanwhile you were over here planning imaginary coincidental run-ins and getting weirdly possessive over someone who didn't even know you liked him.
god, you were pathetic.
"yeah," you managed. "me too."
you reached miller hall, and jake held the door open for you, still talking about some technique he wanted to try for the project. you half-listened, watching the way his hair flopped over his forehead, the animated way he gestured when he got excited about something.
the elevator ride to your floor felt too short. jake got off with you, said he'd just walk up the extra flight of stairs for the exercise. "text me if you think of anything for the project," he said, already heading toward the stairwell. "or honestly just text me whenever. i'm always on my phone."
then he was gone, and you were standing alone in the hallway outside your door, feeling weirdly deflated and wired at the same time.
your phone buzzed before you'd even gotten your key out.
jake: forgot to say this but your idea for the UI was really smart. i think it's gonna make the whole thing way more intuitive.
jake: ok NOW i'm done bothering you. have a good night!
you stared at the messages, that dangerous warm feeling spreading through your chest again. he'd texted you immediately to compliment your idea. with absolutely no prompting.
you were smiling at your phone like an idiot.
yeah. you were definitely pathetic.
"i'm just saying, he's clearly not interested," yunjin said, stabbing her salad with more force than necessary. "like, you've tried everything."
you were sitting in the dining hall, picking at your food while yunjin and beomgyu conducted what was essentially an intervention about your jake situation. an intervention you hadn't asked for and definitely didn't want.
"maybe he's just shy," you said, defensive.
beomgyu snorted. "shy guys still notice when someone's flirting with them. they just get weird about it. this guy sounds like he genuinely has no idea."
"which means he's not into you," yunjin added, gentler now. "and that's fine, you know? you can just be project partners. you don't have to keep torturing yourself."
except the thing was, you weren't entirely convinced jake wasn't interested. or maybe you just didn't want to accept it yet. because he texted you unprompted sometimes, sent you memes he thought you'd find funny, always smiled when he saw you in the hallway. that had to mean something, right?
"i'm not torturing myself," you muttered.
"you've mentioned him like fifteen times in the past hour," beomgyu pointed out.
"have not."
"you literally just told us about how he holds his pen. his pen."
okay. maybe you were torturing yourself a little.
you left the dining hall feeling irritated and restless, your friends' words circling in your head. he's not interested. he has no idea. you're torturing yourself. maybe they were right. probably they were right. you should just focus on the project, get a good grade, and move on like a normal person.
you were cutting through the student centre, not really paying attention to where you were going, when you passed the community bulletin board. the usual chaos of flyers and posters, study abroad programs, club meetings, someone selling a barely-used microwave. your eyes skimmed over it automatically, not really looking.
then you saw his name.
TUTORING AVAILABLE - COMP 101, 201, 301
patient, experienced, flexible schedule
contact: jake sim
there was a row of little tear-off tabs at the bottom with his phone number. several were already missing. the flyer itself was simple, almost plain. you stared at it. people flowed around you, conversations and footsteps and the ambient noise of the student centre, but you just stood there staring at jake's handwritten flyer.
you didn't need tutoring. your grades were fine. good, even. you and jake were in the same advanced class, for god's sake. he'd probably seen your test scores when he was TAing. this would beâŚobvious. wouldn't it? taking a tab would be transparent and desperate andâ
your hand moved before you'd fully decided. the paper tore with a soft sound that felt too loud. you stared at the little strip in your palm, jake's number printed in his neat handwriting even though you already had it saved in your phone.
what were you doing?
you shoved the tab in your pocket and walked away quickly, like someone might have witnessed you doing something incriminating. your heart was beating too fast. this was insane. this was transparent. he was going to see right through it.
but.
but it was also legitimate, wasn't it? people got tutoring all the time, even when their grades were fine. wanting to understand the material better, wanting a different perspective, wanting to be extra prepared. those were all valid reasons. normal reasons. and yeah, maybe you had ulterior motives, but the cover story was solid enough that you could maintain plausible deniability. to him. to yourself.
you made it back to your dorm before you pulled out your phone.
you: hey! i saw your tutoring flyer in the student centre. do you still have availability?
you hit send before you could overthink it. then immediately started overthinking it anyway. he was going to ask why. he was going to point out that you clearly didn't need help. he was going toâ
your phone buzzed.
jake<3: oh hey! yeah i have some slots open. but wait, aren't you doing pretty well in class? i've seen your test scores when i'm grading and you're like, consistently in the top range
jake<3: not that you CAN'T get tutoring obviously! everyone can benefit from extra help
jake<3: i just want to make sure you actually need it and aren't just being nice or something
god, he was even considerate about this. checking in to make sure you weren't wasting your time or money on something you didn't need. being thoughtful and genuine while you were over here manipulating the situation to manufacture more time with him.
you felt a twinge of something uncomfortable. guilt maybe. but you pushed it down.
you: i mean yeah my grades are okay, but i feel like i'm just memorising patterns without really UNDERSTANDING the concepts you know? like i can solve the problems but i couldn't explain WHY
you: i just want to make sure i actually get it. especially since the material keeps building on itself
it wasn't entirely a lie. you did sometimes feel like you were pattern-matching your way through assignments. and deeper understanding was always good. these were reasonable concerns. the fact that they weren't your primary motivation didn't make them untrue.
jake<3: oh yeah that makes total sense actually. i see that a lot with students. they can execute but the underlying logic isn't solid
jake<3: okay yeah we can definitely work on that! my rate is $20/hour but honestly for you i'd be happy to just do it for free? since we're already working together on the project anyway
you: no way i'm paying you. you're already helping me so much with the project
jake<3: the project is a two person thing, you're helping me just as much
jake<3: but okay we can argue about payment later. when works for you?
you felt that warm, dangerous flutter again. he'd offered to tutor you for free. just casually, like it was no big deal. like spending extra time with you was something he actively wanted to do, even without compensation.
you: i'm pretty flexible. whenever you have time
jake<3: thursdays at 7? we could do the library again or somewhere on our floor if you want somewhere quieter
jake<3: also i promise i'll actually TEACH and not just fix your code for you like last time lol
you smiled at your phone. somewhere on your floor. which meant his room or yours. which meant private, just the two of you, no other students around.
you: thursdays work for me!Â
jake<3: cool! we can switch off. i'll bring snacks
jake<3: this'll be fun :)
he'd sent a smiley face. an actual emoticon. it shouldn't have made your heart skip but it did.
you locked your phone and sat on your bed, that satisfaction settling warm in your chest. you'd done it. you'd created a legitimate, recurring excuse to see jake outside of project work. an hour a week, minimum, where you'd have his complete attention. where you could sit close to him in the privacy of a dorm room, help him help you, let those boundaries get just a little bit blurrier.
it was harmless. he was offering tutoring anyway, you were just taking him up on it. and yeah, maybe your motivations weren't entirely pure, but you weren't lying to him. not really. you did want to understand the material better. the fact that you also wanted to be around him more was just. additional context. secondary reasoning.
you were being smart about this, honestly. creating opportunities without being pushy. letting things develop naturally within structures that already existed.
you ignored the small, quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered this was too much. that you were engineering situations and manufacturing proximity and maybe that wasn't as harmless as you wanted to believe. that jake was offering to help you in good faith while you had an agenda he knew nothing about.
you were good at ignoring that voice.
your phone buzzed again.
jake<3: btw i've been thinking about the database structure and i had an idea
and just like that you were smiling again, typing back, that uncomfortable feeling dissolving into something easier and warmer and more immediately gratifying.
it was fine. everything was fine. this was just tutoring. just spending time with someone you enjoyed being around. there was nothing wrong with that.
nothing wrong with it at all.
you'd been doing the tutoring sessions for three weeks when your roommate officially moved out. well, not officially officially. her stuff was still there, her side of the room still technically occupied. but she'd been spending every night at her boyfriend's off-campus apartment for the past month, and one day she just stopped pretending she was coming back.
"i'm still paying rent," she'd said, shoving clothes into a duffel bag. "so like, it's still my room. i'll probably crash here sometimes. but you basically have the place to yourself."
you'd nodded sympathetically while internally celebrating. your own space. privacy. no need to coordinate schedules or deal with her boyfriend's annoying habits. it was perfect.
it took you less than a day to realise it was perfect for other reasons too.
the next tutoring session was supposed to be in the library. thursday at seven, like always. but you'd been sitting in your empty apartment that afternoon, looking at your space with new eyes, and the idea had planted itself so naturally you'd almost convinced yourself it was practical.
you: hey, would you maybe want to do tutoring at my place tonight instead? my roommate moved in with her boyfriend so it's way quieter than the library
you: totally fine if you prefer the library though!
the response took longer than usual. long enough that you started second-guessing yourself. maybe this was too much. too obvious. crossing some line from study partner into something else.
jake<3: oh
jake<3: um
jake<3: yeah that's fine. if you're sure?
jake<3: i don't want to like. intrude or anything
jake<3: but yeah quieter is definitely better for focusing
you: you're not intruding i literally invited you haha
you: i'm in 3B. just come by at 7
jake<3: okay! see you then
you spent the next two hours in a cleaning frenzy you absolutely did not want to examine too closely. you weren't trying to impress him. you just wanted the place to look nice and presentable. the fact that you changed your clothes twice and lit a candle that made the whole apartment smell like vanilla and sandalwood was just. coincidence.
the knock came at exactly seven. jake was annoyingly punctual.
you opened the door to find him standing in the hallway looking uncertain, backpack slung over one shoulder, holding a bag of chips. "hi," he said. "i brought snacks. i didn't know what you liked so i just got the variety pack."
"you didn't have to do that."
"i know, butâ" he shifted his weight. "i don't know, it felt weird showing up empty-handed."
you stepped back to let him in, watching as he moved into your space with obvious hesitation. he didn't walk in so much as carefully entered, like he was worried about disturbing something. his eyes went immediately to your walls, taking in the art prints you'd hung, the string lights, the bookshelf crammed with novels and textbooks. then to your desk setup, the small kitchen area, the couch that your roommate had left behind.
"wow," he said quietly. "this is. really nice."
"it's just a dorm apartment."
"no, i know, butâ" he gestured vaguely at everything. "it's decorated. like, actually decorated. my place looks like a prison cell compared to this." he was still standing near the door, like he hadn't fully committed to being here. "is that an original print?"
you glanced at the framed artwork he was pointing at. "yeah. local artist. i got it at a campus market thing."
"it's really cool." he finally took a few more steps inside, setting his backpack down carefully on the floor like he was afraid it might scuff something. his attention caught on your kitchen counter, where you'd left out the fancy coffee you'd bought yesterday. the expensive cheese and crackers. the fruit you'd pre-cut and arranged in a bowl because apparently you were that person now.
jake went quiet for a second. then he laughed, but it sounded a little uncomfortable. "okay i have to ask. are you like, rich?"
you felt your face heat. "what? no."
"because thisâ" he gestured at your apartment again, at the candle burning on your coffee table, the throw blanket artfully draped over your couch, the general aesthetic coherence of the space. "this seems like. i don't know. very put together for a college student."
"i just like my space to feel nice," you said, defensive. "there's nothing wrong with that."
"no, definitely not! i didn't meanâ" he ran a hand through his hair, flustered. "i just meant. my room has like, a bed and a desk and some clothes on the floor. this looks like an apartment from a magazine. in a good way," he added quickly. "it's impressive. i'm just. you know. mildly intimidated."
"don't be intimidated," you said, softer now. trying for casual. "seriously, make yourself comfortable. do you want something to drink? i have coffee, tea, juice, those fancy sparkling watersâ"
"you have fancy sparkling water?"
"they were on sale."
they were absolutely not on sale. you'd bought them specifically because you remembered jake mentioning he liked trying different flavours. but he didn't need to know that.
"um, sure. i'll try one." he was still standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, like he couldn't figure out where he was allowed to exist.
you grabbed two cans from the fridge, handing him one and gesturing toward the couch. "we can work there if you want. or the desk. whatever's comfortable."
"couch is good," he said, finally sitting down and immediately looking slightly less tense. he opened the sparkling water, took a sip, and made a surprised noise. "oh this is actually really good."
"told you." you sat next to him, closer than you would have in the library. not touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth of him next to you. close enough that when he leaned forward to pull his laptop out of his backpack, you caught that familiar scent of soap and citrus.
he pulled up the lesson he'd prepared, something about optimisation algorithms, and fell into his teaching rhythm. you'd noticed this about jake before. when he was explaining code, he became more confident. less apologetic. his hands moved as he talked, tracing invisible diagrams in the air, and his whole face became more animated.
you were trying to focus. really, you were. but you kept getting distracted by the fact that he was here, in your space, sitting on your couch. his knee bumped yours at one point and he apologised even though it was barely contact. you told him it was fine. his handwriting was neat when he sketched out examples in your notebook. he had a small scar on his left hand you'd never noticed before.
"are you following?" he asked, glancing over at you.
"yeah," you said, snapping back to attention. "sorry. just thinking."
"it's kind of a dense topic," he said, apologetic again. "we can take a break if you need."
"no, keep going. you're good at this."
something in his expression softened. "thanks. iâi actually really like doing this. the tutoring, i mean. it's nice having someone to talk through concepts with who actually cares about understanding them properly." he paused, looking around your apartment again like he was seeing it with fresh eyes. "and this is. yeah. this is better than the library for sure."
"yeah?"
"the library's always so loud, even in the quiet sections. and people keep interrupting to ask if they can take chairs from our table." he settled back into your couch slightly, his shoulders loosening. "this is way better. i can actually think here."
you felt that dangerous satisfaction bloom in your chest. this is better. i can actually think here. he was comfortable. in your space. comfortable enough to relax, to take up room, to exist without that careful hesitation he'd had when he first arrived.
"we should do all our sessions here," you said, trying to sound casual. "if you're cool with it."
jake glanced at you, then around the apartment again. for a second you thought he might question it. might recognise this for what it was. but then he just smiled, easy and genuine. "yeah, i'd like that. this is really nice."
"cool," you said. your heart was doing that annoying fluttery thing again.
you went back to the lesson, jake's voice steady and patient as he walked you through increasingly complex problems. his knee stayed pressed against yours. he'd stopped apologising for taking up space. he reached for the fancy crackers you'd set out without asking if it was okay first, just casual and comfortable like he belonged here.
and god help you, you liked seeing him like this. liked having him in your space, surrounded by your things, relaxed and focused and entirely unaware of how much thought you'd put into creating this exact scenario.
he was more comfortable here than he should be. settling into your life with an ease that should have alarmed you but instead just made you want to pull him deeper.
you were playing a game he didn't know existed. creating intimacy in careful increments. manufacturing closeness that felt organic to him but was entirely designed by you.
"okay your turn," jake said, pushing your laptop toward you. "try implementing that function we just talked through."
you pulled the computer into your lap, fingers moving over the keys, hyper-aware of jake watching. of his presence next to you, patient and encouraging. of how easy it would be to let this become routine. thursday nights on your couch, just the two of you, the rest of the world locked outside.
professor kim handed back midterms on a wednesday, and the energy in the lecture hall was exactly what you'd expect. nervous shuffling, people immediately comparing scores, that girl in the front row who always cried regardless of her grade already tearing up.
you flipped your exam over and saw the 100 staring back at you. perfect score. you felt a flush of satisfaction that had nothing to do with the grade itself and everything to do with the fact that jake would see it.
"holy shit," yunjin whispered, leaning over to look. "you got a perfect score?"
"apparently."
"that's insane. i got an 87 and i thought i did well." she shook her head, impressed and maybe slightly annoyed. "what did jake think? he must be so proud, that's basically a direct result of his tutoring."
speaking of jake, he was two rows behind you, and you could hear his friends' voices carrying.
"dude, you got a 98," one of them said. "that's insane."
"i missed this one question," jake said, and he sounded genuinely disappointed. "i can't believe i mixed up the time complexity."
you turned around without really thinking about it, catching his eye. he was already looking at you, and his face did this thing, this hopeful uncertain thing. "how'd you do?"
you held up your exam. his eyes widened.
"you got a hundred?" he said it loud enough that a few people glanced over. then he was standing up, moving past his friends, coming down to your row with his exam still in his hand. "holy shit, that'sâthat's amazing. youâ" he stopped himself, looking almost embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. "sorry, i'm like. weirdly excited about this."
"don't apologise," you said, smiling despite yourself. "you sound more excited than i am."
"because iâ" he gestured at your exam, then at you. "you understood it. like really understood it. i could tell during our sessions that things were clicking but seeing it actually translate to a perfect score is justâ" he ran his hand through his hair, grinning in a way that made your stomach flip. "i'm really proud of you."
the words hit you weird. i'm proud of you. said with such genuine warmth, such unironic sincerity. like your success was somehow his success too. like he was personally invested in your performance because he'd helped you get there.
except you hadn't really needed the help. you'd manufactured the entire situation. you'd been doing fine before the tutoring started and you'd probably have gotten a perfect score regardless. jake's proud smile was based on a false premise. he thought he'd helped you achieve something when really you'd just. used him. used his time and his patience and his genuine desire to help people, all so you could sit close to him once a week.
something uncomfortable twisted in your chest. you shoved it down.
"i couldn't have done it without you," you said, because that's what you were supposed to say. what he expected to hear. even if it made you feel slightly sick.
"i know, i know. it's a good grade. i just hate making careless mistakes." he smiled at you again, softer this time. "but seriously, i'm really happy for you. you worked really hard for this."
"we should celebrate," you said, before you could second-guess it. "both of us. good scores, successful tutoring, whatever. come over tonight? i'll make dinner, we can watch a movie. my treat, as a thank you."
jake hesitated, just for a second. "you don't have to thank me."
"i want to," you said firmly with a smile. "you've been helping me for weeks and not accepting any payment. the least i can do is feed you."
"when you put it that way." he was smiling again, that easy smile that made your heart do stupid things. "yeah, okay. what time?"
"seven?"
"perfect."
...
you went slightly overboard with dinner. not crazy overboard, just. more effort than was strictly necessary for a casual thank-you meal. homemade pasta, the good parmesan, a salad that actually had more than three ingredients. you'd also bought wine, which felt very adult and sophisticated until you remembered you were literally just having your study partner over.
jake showed up at seven on the dot, holding a bag of cookies from the expensive bakery near campus. "i know you said your treat, but i can't show up empty-handed," he explained, handing them over. "it's like, physically impossible for me."
"you're ridiculous."
"i've been told." he stepped inside, immediately more comfortable than he'd been that first time. he knew where to put his shoes now, where to set his bag. he went straight for the couch like he belonged there.
dinner was easy. conversation flowed naturally, jumping from classes to campus gossip to a debate about whether the dining hall pizza was underrated or genuinely terrible. jake argued passionately for underrated, gesturing with his fork, getting sauce on his chin that he didn't notice until you pointed it out. he laughed, embarrassed, wiping it away.
"wine?" you offered, after you'd cleared the plates.
"oh, um. sure?" he looked uncertain. "i'm not really a big drinker."
"me neither. but we're celebrating, right?"
"right." he accepted the glass you poured, taking a small sip and making a face. "god, why do people like this? it tastes like someone made juice go bad on purpose."
you laughed despite yourself. "it's an acquired taste."
"that's what people say about things that are objectively bad." but he took another sip anyway, settling back into the couch as you pulled up netflix.
you ended up on some action movie neither of you had seen, the kind with improbable stunts and a plot that didn't require much attention. which was good, because you weren't really watching it. you were too aware of jake next to you, closer than he needed to be, his shoulder occasionally brushing yours. he'd finished his wine faster than you expected and seemed looser now, more animated. he kept making commentary on the movie, pointing out plot holes and questionable physics, his hands moving as he talked.
"âand there's no way that building would still be structurally sound after that explosion," he was saying, gesturing at the screen. "like, basic engineering, you know?"
"you're thinking too hard about it."
"i can't help it. my brain won't turn off." he glanced at you, something warm in his expression. "this is nice though. just hanging out. we're always studying or talking about the project, it's cool to justâŚexist. without an agenda."
without an agenda. the words hit harder than they should have. because you did have an agenda. you'd had one this entire time. this whole evening was carefully constructed, from the homemade dinner to the wine to the deliberately casual intimacy of it all.
"yeah," you managed. "it's nice."
the movie continued. jake shifted closer, his thigh pressing against yours. you didn't move away. his arm ended up along the back of the couch, not quite around your shoulders but close enough that you could feel the warmth of it. neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you adjusted either.
"can i ask you something?" jake said during a particularly slow part of the movie.
"sure."
"why did you pick me? for the project, i mean." he was looking at you now instead of the screen, his expression curious and open. "you could've worked with your friends. people you already knew. but you walked all the way across the lecture hall to ask me."
your heart kicked up. "i told you. you're good at this stuff."
"yeah, but." he paused, like he was trying to figure out how to phrase something. "it felt like. i don't know. like you went out of your way. and i've been trying to figure out if i'm reading too much into it or if there was something else."
the air felt suddenly thinner. "something else like what?"
"i don't know." he laughed, self-conscious. "i'm probably being weird. forget i said anything."
"jake."
"i justâ" he met your eyes, and there was something vulnerable in his expression that made your breath catch. "i really like spending time with you. like, more than i probably should for someone who's just a project partner and tutoring student. and sometimes i think maybe you. i don't know, feel the same? but i'm also really bad at reading these things so i'm probably completely wrong."
oh. oh.
"you're not wrong," you said quietly.
his eyes widened slightly. "i'm not?"
instead of answering, you leaned in. gave him enough time to pull back, to stop this, but he didn't. he met you halfway, his lips soft and uncertain against yours. for a second neither of you moved, the kiss chaste and almost careful. then something shifted. his hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you pressed closer, your fingers curling into his shirt.
jake made a soft sound against your mouth, surprise or maybe pleasure, and kissed you back with more confidence. his other hand found your waist, tentative at first then firmer, pulling you closer. you ended up in his lap somehow, his hands spanning your back, your fingers threading through his hair. he tasted like wine and something sweet from the cookies he'd brought.
"is this okay?" he whispered against your lips, breathing hard.
"yes," you said, and kissed him again before he could second-guess it.
his hands moved under your shirt, warm against your skin, and you felt him shiver when you rolled your hips experimentally. "god," he breathed, sounding almost pained. "we shouldâare we reallyâ"
"do you want to stop?"
"no. god, no. i justâ" he looked up at you, pupils blown, lips kiss-swollen. "i didn't think this would happen. i'm not. i don't usually."
"it's okay," you said softly, meaning it. "we don't have to do anything you don't want."
jake didnât stop you. instead, he seemed to melt into the contact, his hands trembling as they slid further up your back, skin hot through the thin fabric of your shirt. when you moved to guide him off the couch and onto the rug, he followed with a sort of dazed compliance, his glasses slightly askew on his face.
you knelt between his legs, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate. the movie was still playingâsome distant sound of tires screechingâbut all you could hear was the ragged, uneven hitch of jakeâs breath. when you reached for the button of his jeans, his hand flew to your wrist, not to stop you, but just to steady himself. his knuckles were white.
"are you sure?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "iâi'm not... i don't want to mess this up. our project, the tutoring... i don't want to make things weird for you."
"jake," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. "shut up and let me."
he let out a shaky, half-strangled laugh, his head hitting the base of the couch as he let go of your wrist. "okay. okay, yeah. shutting up."
as you eased his jeans down, you realised the lanky, awkward way he carried himself in the halls was a massive deception. he was built with a surprising, heavy sturdiness that the oversized hoodies always hid. his legs were long, his thighs thick with the kind of muscle that suggested he actually did play soccer as more than just a hobby. and when you finally freed him, you couldn't help the small, sharp intake of breath that escaped you.
"jake," you breathed, your eyes widening. "holy..."
he groaned, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, and covered his eyes with his forearm. "don't. don't look at me like that. i know. i'm sorry, is it... is it too much? i canâ"
"it's perfect," you cut him off, reaching out to touch him. his skin was searing, and the moment your fingers closed around him, his entire body jolted like heâd been hit with a live wire.
when you leaned forward to take him into your mouth, jakeâs reaction was explosive. he arched off the floor, his fingers tangling desperately in your hair, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. he was so sensitive, so completely overwhelmed by the sensation that it felt like he was losing his grip on reality.
"oh god," he choked out, his voice high and strained. "wait, waitâthat'sâyouâre so... the pressure, i can'tâ"
you didn't slow down. you liked the way he lost his composure, the way the articulate, logical TA was reduced to incoherent stutters. you used your hands to keep him steady, your tongue swirling around the head of him, and jakeâs hips began to move in a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm. he was trying to keep some semblance of control, trying to stay "polite," but the sheer intensity of it was breaking him.
"i'm gonna... i'm actually gonna..." he gasped, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling you closer until he was practically burying himself in you. "please, don't stop. don't stop, just like thatâright thereâ"
he hit his limit with a loud, guttural shout that was muffled only by the back of his hand as he bit down on his own knuckles to stay quiet. his body went rigid, muscles in his arms and chest standing out in sharp relief as he came, the force of it leaving him limp and shuddering against the couch.
it took him a long time to come back down. for several minutes, the only sound in the room was his heavy, labouring breath and the flickering light of the tv. you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a fierce, glowing sense of triumph. he looked completely wreckedâhair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear, chest heaving.
you felt powerful. youâd spent weeks engineering this, calculating every move, and seeing him like thisâtotally undone by youâwas better than any perfect exam score.
"you okay?" you asked, leaning your chin on his knee.
jake let out a long, shaky exhale, finally moving his arm to look at you. his eyes were hazy, his face flushed a deep, beautiful red. "i... think my brain just short-circuited," he whispered, a small, dazed smile tugging at his lips.Â
"in a good way?"
"in the best way." he reached out, his fingers trembling as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "thank you. seriously. i don'tâi don't even know what to say."
you smiled, leaning into his touch. the apartment was warm, the air still smelling of vanilla. "you don't have to say anything. you should just stay."
the words were soft, natural. it felt like the obvious next step. but the second they left your mouth, you felt the shift.
it was subtle at firstâthe way jakeâs fingers went still against your skin. then his pupils, which had been blown wide with pleasure, suddenly constricted. he blinked, the haziness clearing as his internal "problem-solving mode" kicked back in with a vengeance.
"stay?" he repeated, his voice sounding suddenly small.
"yeah. it's late, and it's cold out. just stay over. we can... i don't know, wake up and have coffee. maybe look at the project again."
jakeâs eyes darted toward his hands, then to his backpack, then to the door. the relaxation in his shoulders vanished, replaced by a rigid, frantic tension. he looked like heâd just realised he was standing in the middle of a minefield.
"iâ" he started, scrambling to pull his jeans up. he was moving so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. "i can't. i mean, i should... i have that grading to finish. for kim. and iâi didn't bring my toothbrush. or my meds. and my roommate, heâhe'll wonder where i am. he gets worried."
"jake, itâs fine, you can borrowâ"
"no!" he said, a bit too loudly. he was fumbling with his belt, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely loop it through. he wouldn't look at you. his face wasn't flushed with pleasure anymore; it was pale, his expression twisted into something that looked dangerously like panic. "no, i really should go. iâm sorry. i just... i realised the time. i have to go."
you stood up, feeling a cold, hollow pit open in your stomach. "did i do something wrong? was it... was it too much?"
"no! no, it was... it was amazing," he said, finally getting his shoes on, not even bothering to tie the laces. he grabbed his backpack, clutching it to his chest like a shield. "it was too amazing. that's the... that's the problem. i'mâi'm not good at this. i think i need to... i need to think. logically. about the implications."
"the implications?" you asked, your voice rising with a sharp, hurt edge. "it was just a night, jake. it doesn't have to be a 'logical problem' to solve."
"i know, i know. i'm sorry. iâm just... i'm a mess." he backed toward the door, his hand fumbling for the handle behind his back. "i'll text you? about the project? we still have that deadline on tuesday."
"jakeâ"
"goodnight! thank you for dinner. the pasta was really... the texture was perfect. okay. bye."
he practically fell out of the door, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway as he sprinted toward the stairs.
the click of the door closing felt final. you stood in the centre of your perfectly decorated, candle-lit apartment, surrounded by the remnants of the dinner youâd spent hours on. the half-empty wine glasses, the bag of expensive cookies, the rumpled rug.
you felt a hot, stinging prickle behind your eyes. youâd done everything right. youâd been strategic, patient, and kind. youâd gotten him to open up, to trust you, to want you. and yet, watching him run away like you were a bug in his codeâsomething to be deleted or fixedâhurt more than any midterm failure ever could.
you sat back down on the couch, the silence of the room suddenly feeling just as oppressive as it had back in the computer lab. you picked up your phone, looking at his last text. this'll be fun :)
you threw the phone onto the cushions and buried your face in your hands, the smell of his citrus shampoo still clinging to your skin, mocking you.
jake didn't text.
you stared at your phone for the entire next day, watching the screen like you could will a message into existence. the "i'll text you" he'd thrown over his shoulder before fleeing felt increasingly like a polite lie. by saturday afternoon you broke first.
you: hey, you okay?
the message sat there. delivered, but no response.
you tried again sunday morning, going for casual.
you: still on for project work this week?
still no response.
by monday you'd moved past confusion into something that felt uncomfortably like panic. this wasn't how things worked. people didn't just. stop responding to you. they didn't ignore you or avoid you or remove you from their orbit like you were some problem to be managed. you were used to being wanted, pursued, the one who had to let people down gently. this reversed dynamic was unfamiliar and honestly humiliating.
you saw him in the dining hall on tuesday. he was with his friends, laughing at something one of them said, looking completely normal. like nothing had happened. like he hadn't been on your couch four days ago falling apart under your touch.
you started walking toward their table before you could think better of it, but jake's eyes flicked up, met yours for a fraction of a second, and then he was standing, gathering his tray, saying something to his friends. they all got up and left. just. left. walked out the side exit while you stood there holding your lunch like an idiot.
yunjin grabbed your arm. "okay, what the hell was that?"
"nothing," you said, but your voice came out wrong.Â
"that was not nothing. did something happen with you and jake?"
"no. i don't know. it's complicated."
it wasn't complicated. it was actually pretty simple. you'd pushed too hard and now he wanted nothing to do with you.
wednesday he wasn't in his usual spot in lecture. you spent the entire class scanning the room, finally spotting him in the very back corner, a place he'd never sat before. he kept his eyes on his laptop the entire time, didn't look up once. when class ended he was the first one out the door.
thursday was supposed to be tutoring. seven pm, his room or yours, the standing appointment you'd had for weeks now. you waited in your apartment, laptop open to the half-finished project, telling yourself he'd show up. he was responsible and dedicated. he wouldn't just bail without saying anything.
seven came and went. then seven-thirty. by eight you accepted he wasn't coming.
you: are we still working together on the project? i need to know so i can plan accordingly.
again, no response.
friday morning you were walking to class when you saw him ahead of you on the path. for once he hadn't spotted you first. you sped up, closing the distance, and watched in real time as he seemed to sense your presence. his shoulders tensed. then he took a sharp left turn down a path that definitely wasn't toward any of his classes. he was actively avoiding you. taking different routes. altering his entire routine just to not run into you.
something hot and humiliated burned in your chest.
by next week, you'd had enough. you knew his schedule. knew he had algorithms right before lunch on mondays, in the engineering building, third floor. you positioned yourself outside the classroom before class ended, ignoring the curious looks from other students filing out. you spotted jake immediately when the doors opened. he saw you at the same moment and actually stopped walking, causing someone behind him to bump into his back.
"we need to talk," you said.
"i haveâi need to get toâ"
"jake." your voice came out sharper than intended. "five minutes. please."
something in his expression shifted. resignation maybe. he nodded once, following you to an empty study room down the hall. you closed the door. the small space suddenly felt suffocating.
"you've been ignoring me," you said.
"i know."
"for a week. you didn't text, you didn't show up to tutoring, you're literally avoiding me on campus."
"i know," he said again, quieter. he wasn't looking at you, his eyes fixed somewhere around your shoulder. "i'm sorry. that wasn'tâ i should have communicated better."
"so communicate now. what's going on?"
jake was quiet for a long moment. when he finally spoke, his voice was careful. measured. "what happened last week. that crossed a line for me."
"we both wanted it."
"did we?" he looked at you now, and there was something in his expression that made your stomach drop. "because i've been thinking about it a lot. about how we got there. and i feel like. i don't know. like maybe i missed something."
"what do you mean?"
"the tutoring," he said. "you didn't actually need it, did you? your grades were already good. and the project. you had friends you could have worked with. people you actually knew. but you picked me." he paused. "why did you pick me?"
the question hung in the air between you. you could lie. deflect. but something about the way he was looking at you, patient and a little sad, made it feel pointless.
"i liked you," you said finally. "i wanted to spend time with you."
"okay." he nodded slowly. "so the tutoring was. what. an excuse? a way to manufacture time together?"
"it wasn't like that."
"wasn't it though?" there was no anger in his voice. just. tiredness. "because from my perspective, i thought i was helping someone who needed help. i thought we were becoming friends. and then suddenly we're⌠doing that. and i'm trying to figure out when the shift happened and i can't. because maybe there was no shift. maybe that's what you wanted the whole time and i just didn't see it."
"i did want to be your friend," you said, defensive now. "i wasn't. it's not like i was using you."
"weren't you?"
the words hit harder than they should have. because he wasn't wrong. you had used him. used his kindness, his eagerness to help, his complete inability to see through your motivations. you'd engineered situations and manufactured proximity and told yourself it was harmless.
"i like you," jake said, and somehow that made it worse. "i really do. but i feel. god, i don't even know how to explain it. exposed? like you saw something in me that made me an easy target and you just. went for it. and i didn't even realise what was happening until it had already happened."
"that's notâ"
"and the thing is," he continued, talking over you gently, "you're so far out of my league. like, objectively. you're smart and pretty and confident and you have your shit together. and i'm just. me. i'm awkward and i ramble and i spend friday nights debugging code for fun. so the fact that you were interested never made sense. i kept waiting for it to click, for me to understand why, and now i think i do. it wasn't about me. it was about. i don't know. the chase? the conquest? i was a project to you."
"no," you said, but your voice came out weak. "jake, that's not true. you weren't a project."
"then what was i?"
you didn't have an answer. or you did, but it was complicated and messy and saying it out loud would mean admitting things you didn't want to admit.
jake sighed. "i'm not trying to be cruel. i'm really not. but being around you right now makes me feel uncomfortable. like i can't trust my own judgement because i didn't see any of this coming. and that's. that's my issue to work through. but i need space to do it."
"what about the class project?"
"we can do it over email. divide up the work, combine it at the end. we don't have to see each other."
"and tutoring?"
"i think we should stop. you don't actually need it anyway."
each sentence felt like a door closing. practical, reasonable, and completely final.
"i'm sorry," you said, and meant it. "i didn't mean to. i wasn't trying to hurt you."
"i know," jake said, and he sounded sincere. "i don't think you set out to do anything malicious. i just think you didn't really consider how it would feel from my side. and now we're here."
"so that's it? we just stop talking?"
"for now, yeah. maybe later we can be normal around each other. but right now i need. distance."
he moved toward the door, his hand on the handle. you wanted to say something, anything that would fix this. some argument that would make him see you differently. but looking at his face, at the quiet certainty there, you knew there was nothing you could say. he'd made up his mind. he'd set a boundary. and you had no choice but to respect it.
"i really am sorry," you said again.
"i know," jake said. "me too."
then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him with that same horrible finality. you stood there in the empty study room, staring at the space where he'd been.
you couldn't even argue with his reasoning. everything he'd said was true. you had manufactured situations. you had used his kindness and his obliviousness to get what you wanted. you'd told yourself it was harmless, that your feelings were real even if your methods were questionable.
but intent didn't matter when the impact was someone feeling manipulated and exposed.
you left the study room feeling hollowed out. the campus looked the same. people laughed and talked and went about their days. somewhere out there jake was probably headed to lunch with his friends, relieved to have finally said what he needed to say.
and you were just. alone. with the sharp realisation that you'd ruined something before it even had a chance to be real.
the party was exactly the kind of loud, chaotic mess you needed. bass thrumming through the floors, bodies packed into every available space, the air thick with sweat and cheap alcohol and too many competing perfumes. yunjin had dragged you here, insisting you needed to "get out of your head" after moping around for two weeks straight.
so here you were. red cup in hand, smile fixed in place, laughing at jokes you weren't really hearing. performing normalcy while your brain kept circling the same thoughts on loop. jake's face in that study room. the careful way he'd said i need space. the hollow feeling that had taken up permanent residence in your chest.
"you good?" beomgyu asked, leaning close to be heard over the music.
"yeah, great," you said automatically, taking another drink.
you were on your third. or fourth. you'd stopped counting. the alcohol sat warm in your stomach but hadn't managed to quiet your thoughts yet. maybe if you drank enough you'd stop replaying every conversation with jake, analysing every moment for signs you'd missed, evidence of how thoroughly you'd fucked everything up.
"i'm gonna get another drink," you said to no one in particular, pushing through the crowd toward the kitchen.
that's when you saw him.
jake. standing near the makeshift bar someone had set up on the counter, red cup in hand, talking to a girl you didn't recognise. and he was laughing. actually laughing, head thrown back, completely at ease in a way that made something hot and ugly twist in your chest.
because he never looked like that with you. even before everything went wrong, even during those tutoring sessions in your apartment when you'd thought you were building something real, he'd always been slightly careful and polite, like he was containing himself. but now he was loose and animated, gesturing with his free hand while the girl laughed at whatever he was saying, her hand resting on his arm.
her hand was on his arm.
you watched as she leaned closer, saying something that made jake grin. that specific grin, the one where his eyes crinkled at the corners and you could see his perfect teeth on display. you'd thought that smile was special. something you'd earned. but apparently he was just like this, with everyone who wasn't you.
the jealousy hit so hard it felt physical. burning through your chest, turning your vision sharp and focused. you were moving before you'd decided to, weaving through people, your jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
jake saw you coming. his smile faltered, something uncertain crossing his face. "heyâ"
"who's this?" you said, gesturing at the girl. your voice came out sharper than you'd intended, heavy with something you couldn't quite name.
the girl looked between you and jake, confused. "i'm mina. jungwon's sister remember? we just met like ten minutes ago."
"oh right." you focused on jake, ignoring her entirely. "you look like you're having fun."
"iâyeah?" jake's eyebrows drew together. "it's a party?"
"funny how you can make time for parties but couldn't respond to any of my texts about the assignment."
"i told you we could do it over emailâ"
"is that what you're doing right now? project work?" you knew you sounded irrational, accusatory, but you couldn't stop. the words kept spilling out, poisoned by alcohol and jealousy and two weeks of feeling like you'd been the only one affected by any of this.Â
"or are you just. moving on? found someone new toâ"
"okay, i'm gonna go," mina said, backing away with her hands up. "this seems like. a thing. nice meeting you, jake."
she disappeared into the crowd. jake stared at you, his expression shifting from confused to something harder. "what the hell was that?"
"you tell me. you've been ignoring me for two weeks and now you're here flirting with random girls?"
"flirting?" jake's voice pitched up slightly. "flirting? i was literally just talking to her. she asked where the bathroom was and then we started chatting about the music. that'sâthat's not flirting, that's called being polite."
"she had her hand on your arm."
"so?" jake looked genuinely baffled now. "people touch arms when they talk. that doesn't mean anything. and even if it didâ" he stopped himself, jaw tightening. "i don't owe you an explanation. you don't get to. we're not together. we're not anything."
the words hit exactly where they were meant to. "right. because you decided we're not."
"no, because you decided we weren't, like a month ago when you started playing games instead of just being honest." his voice was rising now, frustration bleeding through. "and now you're mad because i'm talking to someone else? you don't get to do that. you don't get to manipulate me into something and then act possessive when i try to move on."
"i'm notâ" you started, but stopped. because he was right. you were being possessive and irrational. reading intent into a harmless conversation because you wanted there to be something there. wanted confirmation that jake was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.
but he wasn't. he was just living his life. talking to people at parties. laughing easily with strangers. completely unaffected while you spiralled.
"i wasn't flirting with her," jake said, quieter now. tired. "i was just being friendly. that's what normal people do. they don't engineer entire relationships or manufacture situations. they just exist around each other."
"i know," you said, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have. that was out of line."
jake nodded once, already turning away. "yeah. it was."
you watched him disappear back into the crowd, leaving you standing alone by the kitchen counter. your hands were shaking. you downed the rest of your drink in one go, the burn doing nothing to quiet the noise in your head.
you'd just proven everything he'd said about you. possessive. manipulative. unable to let go. you'd projected your own feelings onto a completely innocent interaction and made a scene because you couldn't handle seeing him okay when you were so thoroughly not okay.
you'd been so certain. so sure he was flirting, that the girl meant something, that you'd caught him in some kind of lie. but you'd been wrong. completely, embarrassingly wrong. because you didn't actually know what jake was thinking. you never had. you'd just assumed, projected, filled in the gaps with your own narrative.
and now he was probably telling his friends what a psycho you were. probably regretting he'd ever let you into his life in the first place.
you grabbed another drink.
âŚ
the party had devolved into that late-night haze where everything blurred together. people you didn't recognise, conversations you weren't part of, music that had gotten somehow both quieter and more invasive. you'd lost track of yunjin and beomgyu somewhere around drink number six. or seven. the room tilted slightly when you moved too fast.
you were trying to find your jacket, ready to call it a night, when you spotted him. jake. sitting alone on a couch in the corner, looking absolutely exhausted. his head kept drooping forward like he was fighting to stay conscious, then jerking back up. his eyes were half-closed, his usual careful posture completely abandoned.
you should walk past him. nothing good could come from another interaction tonight. you'd already embarrassed yourself once. but your feet carried you closer anyway, some magnetic pull you couldn't quite resist even knowing it was a bad idea.
you were almost past him when his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "don't," he said, not looking at you. his voice was rough, slurred slightly. "don't leave."
you stopped. "jakeâ"
"been trying," he mumbled, his grip loosening but not releasing. "trying so hard. but you make it impossible."
"what are you talking about?"
he finally looked up at you, and his eyes were unfocused, glassy with alcohol. "you. i'm talking about you. can't stop thinking about you. it's driving me insane."
your heart lurched. "you're drunk."
"i know but so are you," he said, like that explained everything. "that's the only reason i'm saying this. because sober me knows better. sober me has self-control and boundaries and all that shit." he pulled gently on your wrist, making you stumble slightly closer. "but drunk me is tired. so tired of pretending i don't want you."
"you said you needed space."
"i do need space. because when i'm around you i can't think straight. i can't trust myself." his words were coming out uneven, tripping over each other. "you think i was avoiding you because i was mad? i was avoiding you because if i saw you i'dâ" he made a frustrated noise. "i'd do something stupid. like this. this is stupid."
you sat down next to him, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. "jakeâ"
"you're so pretty," he said, almost accusatory. "and you smell good. and you're smart, like actually smart, not just good at school. and when you laugh it's. it does things to me. and i hate it. i hate that you have this much power over me when i don't even know if you actually like me or if i'm just⌠convenient."
"i do like you," you said quietly. "i've liked you the whole time."
"but do you?" he turned to face you more fully, his eyes searching yours even though he seemed to be having trouble focusing. "or do you like the idea of me? the nerdy guy you can manipulate? your little project?"
"that's notâ" you stopped. "it wasn't like that. it's not like that."
"then what is it like?" he was still holding your wrist, his thumb pressing against your pulse point. "because i've been trying to figure it out for weeks and i can't. i can't understand why you'd want me. what you get out of this. and maybe i'm just stupid but i need you to tell me. plainly. what do you want from me?"
"you," you said, the word coming out more honest than you'd intended. "just. you."
jake laughed, bitter and tired. "that doesn't make sense."
"i know."
"i'm not interesting. i'm not cool or funny orâ"
"you are though," you interrupted. "you are all of those things. you just don't see it."
he went quiet for a long moment. then, so quietly you almost missed it: "i've been trying so hard not to want you back. because i knewâi know it's not good for me. but i can't stop. and i'm so tired of trying."
his hand slid from your wrist to your hand, fingers threading through yours. the touch was so much gentler than you expected, almost reverent. "i deleted your texts without reading them," he admitted. "because if i read them i'd respond. and if i responded i'd end up right back where i started. wanting you. letting you in. getting hurt."
"i don't want to hurt you."
"i know. that's what makes it worse." he leaned his head back against the couch, eyes closing. "you don't mean to. you just. do."
you didn't know what to say to that. didn't know how to fix the damage you'd done or convince him that your feelings were real when your actions had been so calculated. so you just sat there, holding his hand, feeling the warmth of him next to you.
"i missed you," jake said, so quiet you barely heard it over the music. "i fucking missed you and i hated myself for it."
"i missed you too."
"yeah?" he opened his eyes, looking at you with something raw and unguarded. "you missed manipulating me?"
"that's not fair."
"isn't it though?" but there was no heat in his words. just exhaustion. "god, i'm so tired. tired of being angry. tired of trying to stay away from you. tired of pretending i don't want you so badly it hurts."
the confession hung in the air between you. jake was looking at you like he was waiting for something, permission or rejection or maybe just confirmation that you'd heard him.
you leaned in. gave him time to pull away, to remember all the reasons this was a bad idea. but he didn't. he met you halfway, his lips crashing against yours with none of the careful hesitation from before. this was messy and desperate, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. he kissed you like he'd been holding back for too long, like all that careful control had finally snapped.
you shifted closer, practically climbing into his lap, and he made a sound against your mouth that went straight through you. his hands were everywhere, spanning your waist, sliding up your back, gripping like he was afraid you'd disappear if he loosened his hold even slightly.
"been thinking about this," he mumbled against your lips, barely pulling back enough to speak. "every night. hated myself for it but couldn't stop."
"me too," you admitted, kissing along his jaw. "i couldn't sleep. kept replaying everything."
"i lied about the texts i didn't respond to," he said, tilting his head to give you better access. "i read them. all of them before deleting. at like three am. read them over and over."
"why didn't you answer?"
"because i wanted to say things i shouldn't say. like how much i missed you. how i kept going to the lab hoping you'd be there. how seeing you at the party tonight fucking destroyed me even though i pretended i was fine." his hands tightened on your waist. "how i've been so fucking miserable without you."
you kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing his words. he responded immediately, pulling you fully into his lap now, and you could feel how much he wanted this, wanted you. it was overwhelming. intoxicating. the desperation in every touch, every small sound he made.
"we should," he said between kisses, "we should probably stop."
"do you want to stop?"
"no. god no." he pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown, lips swollen. "but i'm drunk and you're drunk and tomorrow we're gonna regretâ"
"i won't," you said firmly. "i won't regret this."
something shifted in his expression. softened. he touched your face with a gentleness that made your chest ache, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "you're gonna break my heart," he said, not quite a question.
"i'm not."
"you will." but he kissed you anyway, softer this time. slower. like he was memorising the feel of you. "and i'm gonna let you. because i'm weak and pathetic and i want you so much i don't even care anymore."
"you're not weak."
"i am though." he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closing. "i'm so weak for you. it's embarrassing."
you could feel his exhaustion creeping in, the way his body was getting heavier against yours, his movements slowing. "come on," you said softly, standing and pulling him up with you. "let's get you somewhere you can actually sleep."
"don't wanna sleep," he protested, but let you guide him anyway. "wanna stay with you."
"you will. i'm not going anywhere."
you found an empty bedroom on the second floor, the door unlocked and the bed mercifully unoccupied. jake collapsed onto it immediately, pulling you down with him. he was asleep within minutes, his arms wrapped around you, face buried in your neck. his breathing evened out, deep and steady.
you should probably feel guilty. taking advantage of his drunken honesty, letting him confess things he'd normally keep locked away. but you were too tired, too overwhelmed by everything he'd said. i want you so badly it hurts. i've been so fucking miserable without you. you're gonna break my heart and i'm gonna let you.
you didn't have answers. didn't have promises you could make. didn't know how to fix the fundamental imbalance between you, the manipulation and hurt that had gotten you here.
but for now, in this quiet room with jake's warmth pressed against you, you could pretend tomorrow didn't exist. could pretend this was simple. just two people who wanted each other, tangled together in the dark, nothing more complicated than that.
you fell asleep still wearing your shoes, jake's arms tight around you, his heartbeat steady against your chest.
you woke to pale morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains and the warm weight of jake still wrapped around you. for a disorienting moment you couldn't place where you were. then it came back in pieces. the party. the confrontation. jake's drunken confessions. falling asleep tangled together.
jake stirred against you, his breath catching as he woke. you felt the exact moment awareness returned, the way his body went tense. slowly, carefully, he pulled back just enough to look at you. his hair was a disaster, sticking up in every direction. his glasses sat crooked on the nightstand. his eyes were cautious but clear.
"hi," he said quietly.
"hi."
he didn't let go of you. didn't immediately scramble away or apologise or retreat into panic like last time. he just looked at you, searching your face for something.
"i said a lot of things last night," he finally said.
"yeah."
"i meant them." his voice was serious, steady despite the embarrassment colouring his cheeks. "i know i was drunk, and i probably shouldn't have said half of it, but. i meant it. all of it."
your heart kicked up. "jakeâ"
"i like you," he said, cutting you off gently. "i've liked you since that first night in the lab when you were stressed about your code and i got to actually help you with something. and it's been killing me trying to stay away from you because every time i see you i just. want you. so much that it scares me."
"why does it scare you?"
"because i don't know how to want someone this much and still protect myself." he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could see you better. "last time i didn't protect myself at all. i just. gave in. and then i panicked because it felt too big, too fast, and i didn't know how to handle it."
"and now?"
"now i'm still terrified," he admitted. "but i'm more scared of not trying. of walking away and spending the rest of college wondering what could have happened if i'd just. been brave enough to give you a real chance."
you felt something tight in your chest start to loosen. "i want that. a real chance. i want to do this right."
"yeah?"
"yeah." you reached up, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead. "i'm sorry. for all of it. the manipulation, the games, not being honest about what i wanted. you deserved better than that."
"i know," jake said simply. then, softer: "but i also know you were scared too. just in a different way."
he leaned down, kissing you with a gentleness that made your chest ache. different from last night's desperate intensity. this was slow, careful, almost questioning. you kissed him back, trying to pour everything you couldn't quite say into it. apology and promise and want all tangled together.
when he pulled back his eyes were dark, pupils blown. "i want to try again," he said. "properly this time. but i need you to be honest with me. about what you want. about what this is."
"i want you," you said. "not as a project or a conquest or whatever i convinced myself it was before. just you jake."
something in his expression softened. "okay," he said. "okay. we can work with that."
he kissed you again, deeper this time, and you felt his weight settle more fully over you. "i want to make it up to you," he murmured against your lips. "for running away before. for making you feel like you did something wrong when i was just scared."
"you don't have toâ"
"i want to." he was already kissing down your neck, hands sliding under your shirt. "let me. please."
there was something in his voice, almost pleading, that made you nod. he smiled against your skin, helping you out of your clothes with more confidence than he'd had before. when you were bare beneath him he just. looked. taking his time, hands mapping your body like he was memorising every detail.
"you're so pretty," he said, almost reverent. "i thought about this. about you. so many times."
then he was moving lower, pressing kisses down your stomach, your hip bones, the inside of your thighs. when his breath ghosted over where you needed him most you couldn't help the small sound that escaped.
"tell me if anything's too much," he said, glancing up at you. then he lowered his mouth to you and your brain short-circuited.
he started slowly, almost tentatively, like he was learning you. his tongue moved in careful strokes, testing what made you gasp, what made your hips shift toward him. when he found the rhythm that had your fingers tightening in his hair, he made a low, satisfied sound against you that you felt everywhere.
"jake," you breathed, and he looked up at you through his lashes, pupils blown wide, lips glistening with your arousal.
"tell me," he said, voice rough. "tell me what feels good."
"thatâ" your words cut off as he did it again, tongue flicking over your clit with that same perfect pressure. "right there. just like that."
he was a quick learner. always had been. he catalogued every reaction, every sound you made, adjusting and refining. except this wasn't detached or analytical. this was hungry. desperate. he sucked your clit into his mouth and you moaned, loud and unrestrained, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.
"fuck, jakeâ"
"god, you taste so good," he mumbled against your pussy, barely pulling back enough to speak. his chin was wet, his glasses fogged slightly. "been thinking about this. wanted to do this right last time."
he was getting lost in it now, the careful control slipping into something messier, greedier. he alternated between focused attention on your clit and broad, indulgent strokes through your folds, like he couldn't decide between making you fall apart and simply savouring you. his tongue pushed inside you and you keened, your back arching off the bed.
"oh my god," you gasped. "jake, your mouthâ"
he moaned against you, the vibration making your thighs clench around his head. he didn't seem to mind, just gripped your hips harder, pulled you closer, like he wanted to suffocate in your pussy. when his fingers joined his mouth, sliding through your wetness before pressing inside, you nearly sobbed.
"so wet," he murmured, almost to himself.
he crooked his fingers, finding that spot inside you that made you cry out, and worked it mercilessly while his tongue circled your clit. the dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building so fast you couldn't catch your breath. your fingers tightened in his hair, probably painful, but he just groaned and doubled his efforts.
"jake, i'mâfuck, i'm gonnaâ"
"i know," he said against you, his voice wrecked. "i can feel it. let go for me."
his fingers thrust deeper, faster, his mouth sucking hard on your clit, and you shattered. your orgasm hit like a shockwave, your whole body going taut as pleasure whited out your vision. you were dimly aware of the sounds you were makingâhigh, desperate whimpers and moansâbut you couldn't stop them.
jake moaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and he didn't let up. he worked you through it with devastating patience, his tongue lapping up everything you gave him like he was starving for it.
"jake," you gasped, trying to push at his head. "too muchâ"
but he just whinedâactually whinedâand gripped your thighs tighter, keeping them spread. "please," he mumbled against your pussy, his words muffled and desperate. "please, just one more. need to feel you come again. please."
"i can'tâ" but your protest died as he sealed his lips around your clit again, sucking gently, his fingers still working inside you. the overstimulation was almost painful but it was already shifting into something else, something that had you gasping and arching into his mouth instead of away from it.
he was making sounds nowâdesperate, needy whimpers and moans that vibrated against you. he was rutting against the mattress, you realised dimly, seeking friction while he lost himself in eating you out. his hair was a mess from your fingers, and he looked absolutely wrecked.
"so good," he whined between licks. "taste so good. could do this forever. please let meâneed to make you come againâ"
he was babbling now, drunk on you, his movements getting messier and more desperate. his tongue worked your clit in frantic circles while his fingers curled inside you, and the pleasure was building again impossibly fast. you were so sensitive that every touch felt electric, overwhelming.
"that's it," he gasped, feeling you start to tighten around his fingers. "yeah, give it to me. please, pleaseâ"
your second orgasm hit even harder than the first, ripping through you with an intensity that had you crying out his name, your thighs clamping around his head. jake moaned like he was the one coming, his hips jerking against the mattress as he worked you through it, tongue lapping up everything, fingers gentling but not stopping until you were actually sobbing from oversensitivity.
only then did he pull back, and when he finally lifted his head he looked completely gone. his face was flushed and wet, his eyes glazed and unfocused, his lips swollen and red. he looked drunk on you, his eyes unfocused and dark.
"fuck," he breathed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "you're so hot when you come. the sounds you makeâ"
you pulled him up into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he groaned into your mouth. his cock was rock hard against your thigh, leaking and desperate.
"your turn," you said, reaching down to wrap your hand around him.
he hissed at the contact, his hips jerking forward. "you don't have toâ"
"i want to." you stroked him slowly, base to tip, feeling how hot and heavy he was in your palm. precum leaked from the slit and you used it to ease the glide. "you're so hard, jake. does eating my pussy turn you on that much?"
"fuckâ" his voice broke. "yes. god, yes. you have no idea."
"tell me." you tightened your grip slightly and he whimpered. actually whimpered. "tell me what you were thinking about."
"i was thinkingâ" he gasped when your thumb swept over the sensitive head. "thinking about how good you taste. how you were shaking. how i could feel you clenching and i wantedâwanted to be inside youâ"
"yeah?" you stroked him faster, loving the way his abs tensed, the way his thighs trembled. "you want to fuck me, jake?"
"so bad," he choked out.
you guided him between your legs, not quite inside yet, just letting the head of his cock slide through your wetness. he made a strangled sound, his whole body shuddering.
"we shouldâdo you haveâ" he was trying to think through the haze of arousal, being responsible even now. "condom?"
"pill," you said. "i'm on the pill. and i'm clean. tested recently."
"me too. clean, i mean." his cock twitched against you, smearing precum through your folds. "can iâfuck, can i feel you bare?"
"yes," you breathed. "want to feel all of you."
he positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head pressing against you, and even that felt like too much. he pushed in slowly, so slowly, and the stretch was intense. you were wet enough that he slid in smoothly at first, but the sheer size of him was overwhelming.
"oh fuck," you gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders. "jake, you're soâyou're so bigâ"
"i know, i'm sorryâ" he froze, only halfway in. "am i hurting you?"
"no, don't stop," you urged, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him deeper. "justâgo slow. need to adjust."
he sank in another inch and you both moaned. he was splitting you open, stretching you so full you could barely breathe. when he finally bottomed out, buried completely inside you, he dropped his forehead to yours.
"oh my god," he choked out. "you're so tight. so fucking tight and wet andâi can'tâ"
"don't move yet," you managed, clenching around him involuntarily. he was so deep you could feel him everywhere, pressing against spots that made your toes curl. "just let meâfuckâ"
"you feel incredible," he said, his voice shaking. "i've neverânothing compares to this."
you tightened around him experimentally and he swore, his hips jerking forward. "sorry, sorry," he gasped. "i'm trying to hold still but when you do that i want toâ"
"want to what?" you rolled your hips slightly and he groaned, deep and guttural.
"want to move," he admitted, his control clearly fraying. "want to fuck you."
"then do it," you said.
something in him snapped. he pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in hard, the force of it punching a cry from your lips. he did it again, and again, finding a rhythm that was deep and relentless. the bed creaked beneath you, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust.
"yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "just like thatâdon't stopâ"
"god," he panted, his voice wrecked. "you feel so good."
you looked down between your bodies and moaned at the sightâhis thick cock disappearing into you, glistening with your wetness, stretching you obscenely. "jake, oh my godâ"
"feel how deep i am?" he thrust particularly hard and you keened.
"yesâfuck yesâ"
he wasn't being careful anymore, wasn't being gentle. he fucked into you with abandon, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that made sparks shoot up your spine. the sounds were obsceneâskin slapping against skin, the wet slide of his cock, his grunts mixing with your moans.
"wanted this," he said against your neck, his breath hot. "wanted you. for so long."
"tell me more," you demanded, loving this unfiltered version of him.
"thought about this constantly," he admitted, his thrusts getting harder. "thought about having you like this. making you feel good. hearing you say my name."
"jakeâ" you were getting close again, that familiar tension building low in your belly.
"touch yourself," he said. "want to feel you come on my cock. need it. please."
you slid your hand between your bodies, finding your clit, already swollen and sensitive. the added stimulation made you clench around him and he swore, his rhythm faltering.
"that's it," he encouraged, his eyes fixed on where your fingers worked. "fuck, that's so hot. you're so hot. make yourself cum. let me feel it."
you worked your clit in tight circles, the pressure building faster with each thrust of his cock. he was so deep, hitting all the right spots, the slide of him inside you absolutely perfect. you were making sounds you'd never made beforeâhigh, desperate whines and gasps.
"close," you managed. "so closeâ"
"come for me," he urged, his voice strained. "squeeze my cock. want to feel your pussy milk me. come on, baby, let me feel itâ"
the orgasm hit you like lightning, sudden and intense. you cried out his name, your whole body convulsing, your pussy clamping down on him rhythmically. waves of pleasure crashed over you, so intense you forgot how to breathe.
"oh fuck," jake choked out, his hips stuttering. "you'reâi can feel youâi'm gonnaâ"
he tried to last, you could see it in the tension of his jaw, the way his arms were shaking. but your pussy was still fluttering around him, still clenching in aftershocks, and it was too much. he buried himself deep with a broken moan, his cock pulsing inside you as he came. you felt the warmth of it, felt him fill you up, and the intimacy of it made something in your chest crack open.
"fuck," he gasped, collapsing on top of you. "oh my god. that wasâi've neverâ"
you wrapped your arms around him, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing in sync. he was still inside you, softening slowly, and you could feel his release leaking out around his cock.
"that was amazing," you said when you could finally speak. "you were amazing."
he lifted his head to look at you, his expression soft and vulnerable. "i think i might be falling for you," he said quietly. "is that okay? am i allowed to say that?"
your throat felt tight with emotion. "yeah. that's okay."
"good." he kissed you gently, sweetly. "because i don't think i could stop even if you told me to."
he pulled out carefully and you both hissed at the sensitivity. immediately he was gathering you into his arms, pulling you against his chest like he couldn't stand not touching you. you fit there perfectly, your head tucked under his chin.
"we should probably talk about this," you said after a while. "about us."
"we will," jake promised, his fingers tracing patterns on your spine. "but can we just stay like this for a bit first?"
"yeah." you pressed closer, breathing in the scent of him. "we can stay like this."
and you did. stayed tangled together as the morning light grew stronger, as the sounds of people leaving the party filtered up through the floor. his cum was still leaking out of you, making a mess on your thighs, but neither of you moved to clean up. you just held each other in this new, tentative peace.
jake changed almost overnight once you started dating. it was like giving him permission to want you openly had flipped some switch in his brain. suddenly he was everywhere.
he'd show up at your door before your 9 am lecture with coffee, your exact order memorised, his hair still messy from sleep because he'd woken up early just to see you. he'd kiss you goodbye and then text you five minutes later with some random thought he forgot to mention. did you know that octopuses have three hearts? just learnt that. thought you should know.
in class he'd sit next to you instead of in his usual back corner spot, his knee always pressed against yours under the desk. sometimes his hand would find its way to your thigh, just resting there, his thumb tracing absent patterns while he tried to focus on the lecture. you'd catch him staring at you instead of his laptop, and when you'd raise an eyebrow he'd just smile, unashamed.
"you're distracting," he'd whisper.
"i'm literally just sitting here."
"i know. it's very distracting."
study sessions became impossible. you'd be explaining a concept and he'd lean over to kiss your shoulder, your neck, the corner of your mouth. "jake, i'm trying to help you."
"i know, keep going," he'd say, already doing it again.
"you're not even listening."
"i am. you were talking about. um." he'd grin sheepishly. "okay i wasn't listening. but you're just so pretty when you're focused."
your friends noticed immediately. yunjin had taken one look at jake's arm slung around your shoulders at lunch, the way he was playing with your hair while talking to beomgyu, and pulled you aside.
"okay so he's like. obsessed with you," she said. "it's actually kind of cute. in a golden retriever kind of way."
"he's not obsessed."
"babe, he just offered to carry your bag even though your apartment is literally three minutes away. and he's been smiling at you for the past ten minutes like you hung the moon. it's obsessed behaviour."
but she said it fondly, and later you caught her telling beomgyu that she'd never seen you this relaxed before. "she's not performing," yunjin had said. "she's just. being."
and she was right. with jake you didn't have to strategise or calculate or perform anything. he wanted you. obviously, openly, without games or subtext. when you showed up to his place in sweats and no makeup, he'd light up like you'd dressed up specifically for him. when you stole his hoodies, he'd just buy more so you could steal those too.
"i like seeing you in my clothes," he'd admitted once, pulling you close. "makes me feel like. i don't know. like you're mine."
"possessive," you'd teased.
"is that bad?"
"no," you'd said, kissing him. "i like it."
jake's friends had their own reactions. you'd been nervous meeting them properly, remembering that disastrous first encounter at the party. but they'd welcomed you easily, even if they did give jake endless shit.
"dude, you're so whipped," his roommate said, watching jake immediately get up to refill your drink without being asked.
"and?" jake had said, completely unbothered.
"and nothing, it's just funny. remember when you said you'd never be that guy who drops everything for someone? and now you're literallyâ"
"finish that sentence and i'm not helping you with discrete math anymore."
but he was smiling when he said it, and later his roommate told you that jake talked about you constantly. "it's honestly annoying how happy he is."
the thing was, you were happy too. unexpectedly, overwhelmingly happy. jake made you sharper somehow, more focused. when you studied together you actually retained information because he made learning feel collaborative instead of competitive. he celebrated your successes like they were his own, staying up with you before big presentations, bringing you stress-relief snacks, sending you encouraging texts.
and you did the same for him. learnt his patterns, his tells when he was overwhelmed. you'd show up at the lab with dinner when you knew he'd been working for hours. you'd run your fingers through his hair when he was stressed, and he'd melt into your touch, all that tension draining away.
"you make everything easier," he'd told you once, late at night when you were both too tired to filter. "like the world's less heavy when you're around."
"that's the cheesiest thing you've ever said."
"i know. i mean it though."
weeks blurred together in the best way. stolen kisses between classes. jake's hand always finding yours. the way he'd kiss you goodbye at your door and then text you goodnight five minutes later even though he lived one floor up. movie nights that turned into makeout sessions on your couch, jake's glasses getting in the way until you carefully removed them, setting them aside so you could kiss him properly.
he got clingy when he was tired, wrapping around you like a koala, mumbling into your neck. "don't leave."
"i'm just going to get water."
"too far. stay."
"jake, i'll be gone thirty seconds."
"thirty seconds too long."
you'd laugh, running your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, and feel something warm and settled in your chest. this was what it was supposed to feel like.
the beach had been jake's idea. "there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight," he'd said, eyes lighting up behind his glasses. "and i know this spot that's perfect for stargazing. barely any light pollution. we could bring blankets, make a whole thing of it?"
so here you were, sitting on a blanket in the sand while the ocean crashed softly in the background. the sky was impossibly clear, stars scattered across it like someone had spilt diamonds. jake lay with his head in your lap, one of your hands playing with his hair while he pointed up at the sky.
"okay, so see those seven stars there?" he traced a pattern with his finger. "that's the big dipper, which is part of ursa major. but if you follow those two stars at the edge, they point directly to polaris. the north star."
you hummed, only half listening to the actual words. you were too busy watching him. the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, how animated his expressions were when he talked about something he loved. the moonlight caught on his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips.
"and that oneâ" he was still going, completely absorbed. "that's cassiopeia. she was a queen in greek mythology who bragged about being more beautiful than the sea nymphs, so poseidon punished her by placing her in the sky upside down. you can see how the constellation kind of looks like a W? that's her throne."
"jake," you said softly.
"oh, and if you look over there, that really bright one? that's actually venus, not a star. common misconception. planets don't twinkle like stars do becauseâ"
you leaned down and kissed him, cutting off his rambling mid-sentence. he made a surprised sound but responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. when you pulled back he followed your lips automatically, trying to chase another kiss.
"you were saying?" you teased.
"iâ" he blinked up at you, slightly dazed. "what was i saying?"
"something about venus."
"right. venus. because of the. um." he lost his train of thought as you leaned down again, kissing him slower this time. "you're distracting me from the meteor shower."
"am i?"
"yeah. very effectively." but he was smiling, pulling you down for another kiss.
you shifted, moving to straddle his lap properly. jake's hands immediately found your waist, sliding under your shirt to rest against bare skin.Â
the kissing turned heated quickly. jake made these small, needy sounds that drove you crazy, his hands roaming over your back, your sides, anywhere he could reach. when you rolled your hips experimentally he gasped into your mouth, his grip tightening.
"fuck," he whispered. "you're gonna kill me."
you kissed down his jaw, his neck, feeling his pulse racing under your lips. his hands had moved to your hips now, guiding your movements, and you could feel how affected he was. "still thinking about the stars?" you teased.
"what stars?" he pulled you down for another bruising kiss, one hand tangling in your hair. "can't think about anything except you."
you ground down harder and jake made a sound that was almost a whine, his head falling back against the blanket. "please," he gasped. "please, i needâ"
suddenly, the loud, insistent beeping of his watch interrupted the moment.
you both froze.
jake's face went bright red as he fumbled with his wrist. "oh my god. oh my god. it's my fitness watch. it thinks i'm exercising because my heart rateâ" another beep. "make it stop."
you couldn't help it. you burst out laughing, burying your face in his shoulder while his watch continued its concerned beeping about his elevated heart rate. "it's not funny," jake groaned, still trying to silence the watch. "this is so embarrassing."
"it's a little funny."
"my watch just cockblocked me. there's nothing funny about that."
you kissed his jaw, still giggling. "i think it's cute. your heart rate got that high just from kissing me?"
"you were not just kissing me, you wereâ" he made a frustrated noise. "yes. okay. yes. you have that effect on me. are you happy?"
"very." you settled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat still racing under your ear. the watch had finally stopped beeping. "for what it's worth, my heart's doing the same thing."
"yeah?" he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.
"yeah."
you lay there together, the ocean providing a steady soundtrack, the stars scattered above you. jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "i love you," he said softly. "in case that wasn't obvious from the way my watch literally staged an intervention."
you lifted your head to look at him. his eyes were soft, open, vulnerable in the moonlight. "i love you too," you said, meaning it completely.
he smiled, that full, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. then he kissed you again, sweet and unhurried, his hands gentle on your face.
"we should probably head back soon," you murmured eventually. "it's getting late."
"five more minutes," jake said, pulling you closer. "just. let me hold you for five more minutes."
you settled back against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, both of you looking up at the vast sky. you'd come here to watch a meteor shower but you'd been too distracted by each other to notice if any had passed.
somehow, you didn't mind at all.
"hey," jake said softly. "thank you."
"for what?"
"for giving me another chance. for being patient with me while i figured my shit out. for. this. all of it." his arms tightened around you. "i know i was difficult at first."
"you weren't difficult. you were protecting yourself. i get it now."
"still. you could have given up on me. but you didn't."
"of course i didn't," you said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "you're worth it. you've always been worth it."
jake made a soft, overwhelmed sound, burying his face in your hair. "i'm gonna marry you someday," he mumbled. "just so you know."
"jakeâ"
"not now. obviously not now. but someday. when we've graduated and figured our lives out and i can actually afford a ring. i'm gonna marry you."
you felt your chest go tight with emotion. "okay," you whispered. "someday."
"yeah. someday."
you stayed like that until the cold started seeping in, until you were both shivering despite being pressed together. finally, reluctantly, you packed up the blanket and headed back to campus. jake held your hand the entire walk, occasionally pulling you close to kiss you at random intervals.
"what was that for?" you asked after the third surprise kiss.
"just because," he said, smiling. "because i can. because i love you. do i need more reasons?"
"no," you said, kissing him back. "no more reasons needed."
if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3
đ°đźđ˝đđżđśđ´đľđ Šđ´đđđđŻđ˛đżđżđđ on Tumblr
Ë Âˇ .đŽđšđš đżđśđ´đľđđ đżđ˛đđ˛đżđđ˛đą
ROMANTICISM HANDLED WITH DISCIPLINE ââ ë°ěąí
your professor catches you reading a not-so-safe-for-school book in the middle of his class. in an effort to make things better, you fear that you may have just made them worse.
â§ź đ â§˝ ä¸ pairingŕź â¸â¸â¸ professor!park sunghoon â student!fem!reader
includes ŕź ŕź ŕź jungwon, jay and jake of enhypen, giselle and karina of aespa
genre ŕź ŕź ŕź smut, fluff, porn with plot
warningsŕź â¸â¸â¸ teacher/student, age gaps, power play, light dom/sub dynamics, dom!sunghoon, masturbation (f. rec), erotic literature, explicit language and sexual content, spanking, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, name calling (slut), wet dreams, impact play, oral (m. rec), cumming in pants, facefucking, deepthroat, big dick sunghoon, doggy style, sex on furniture, unprotected sex, creampies, talk of contraception (reader is on birth control), alcohol mentions, drinking and partying, hair pulling, size kink word countŕź 12 . 2 k | â§ź đď¸ â§˝ ä¸ to libraryŕź
[notes.] a rewrite of a rewrite of one of the first ever fics i've ever written! this fic was originally written for soobin of txt, but i took that one down when i decided to discontinue writing for that group. but thanks to my lovely mutuals, they asked (demanded) that i rewrite it for hoon <3 this is a romanticization of student/teacher relationships where both parties are consenting adults, but it is important to note that these relationships can be problematic in real life due to one parties authority over another's and unstable power dynamics. banner done by my beloved mootie @heechwe! reblogs and feedback are very appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!
YOUR FRENCH LITERATURE professor embodies everything you find detestable in a teacher. His classes are a monotonous drone of information, devoid of anything exciting or engaging, though that might not be entirely his fault with how painfully, mind numbingly boring the subject he teaches is. He rarely ever deviates from his tight-lipped script, and he absolutely refuses to entertain any questions or foster any interesting discussion. He never accepted late assignments or gave any extensions, his tests are ridiculously hard, and heâll dock points off your assignments for the tiniest, stupidest reasons. Sure, itâs a difficult course, and itâs important to your major, but you swear he seems to take some kind of pleasure in making his students miserable. Each class feels like an eternity, and often you find yourself counting down the minutes until you can escape the insufferable, suffocating atmosphere of his classroom.
Yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, you find yourself absolutely obsessed with him.
Maybe it was because you spent your time in his class focusing more on him than any of the words that came out of his mouth. His irritatingly handsome, angular face and his pouty, kissable lips, the moles on his cheeks framing his tall nose. The way his thick brow furrows and his lip curls when one of your classmates asks a question that he deems too stupid to grace with an answer. His big veiny hands and how they look shuffling papers and twirling pens, filling your head with thoughts of how they would look caressing your body. His tall, fit frame and how he towers over you whenever you come up to him, the way he has to lower his head to look you in the eye, a soldering heat bubbling in your belly from the way he makes you feel so small. You canât stand to be his student, but you dream at night about being something else to him entirelyâ itâs a paradox that drives you to detrimental distraction. How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe? His perplexing combination of qualities was like some kind of mystery you felt compelled to unravel, at the very least to put your own mind at ease.
That was when you found the novel. It was hidden in the romance section of your favorite used bookstore, squished between two old technicolor cover harlequin novels, itâs dark and simple spine juxtaposing against all the bright colors and ornate fonts. It intrigued you enough to pull it from the shelf and look it over, your cheeks heating up as you take in its cover. A headless, well-dressed man sat in a chair with his legs spread invitingly, the smart suit he was wearing disheveled and his undone belt held tightly in his hand, the leather strap resting against his inner thigh. The title Lessons in Attraction was printed where his head would be, vague but provocative enough to make your stomach flip. The man immediately reminded you of Professor Park, from the way he was dressed to the prominent veins in his hands, and when you flip the book over to read the synopsis you understand the connection. It outlines the story of a steamy romance between a strict economics professor and his teaching assistant, an innocent, young virgin who wants nothing more than to please. It was as if the author had plucked your deepest fantasies straight from your head and printed them out on paper, then planted the book in the perfect spot for you specifically to discover. You knew just from skimming through the pages that reading it would only do you more harm than good, but you just couldnât put it down, drawn to the story like an addict needing a fix. You hid it in your stack of textbooks, and you refused to look the cashier in the eye as they checked you out.
At first, you had intended to keep it hidden in your bedroom, only to be read late at night when your roommates were either out or asleep. But as your obsession with your professor continued to deepen, so did your obsession with the novel; soon you found yourself taking it with you everywhere you went, reading snippets whenever you had the chance and quickly shoving back into your bag anytime someone would walk by or glance over at you. Your dreams devolved into graphic, vivid replays of your favorite dirty scenes, with Professor Park in the place of the professor from the story. You wake up hot and bothered every morning, and his class becomes even more difficult with your head now full of illicit, naughty fantasies. Everything he does makes your belly swirl with need, even something as simple as running a hand through his hair or adjusting his glassesâ you canât even bare to look at him, and instead try your hardest to focus on whatever boring tangent he was rambling on about⌠until you caught yourself fantasizing about how his deep voice would sound whispering dirty words in your ear.
You couldnât take it anymore. Professor Park's lectures were beginning to feel more like sick tortureâ you needed something to keep you distracted before you went insane.
So, against your better judgement, you started to bring the novel to read in class. You sat far enough in the back that you were certain he wouldnât notice, and your poor classmates were too bored out of their minds to look your way. It was easy to keep it hidden away tucked in your lap, so you could pretend to be writing in your notebook while you read. Something about it excited you, reading about fucking your professor with your real professor standing there in front of you, none the wiser. Being able to admire him as you indulged in your secret desires. If he caught you, you would be humiliated, but you would be lying if you said that the thought didnât excite youâŚ
"Miss L/N, what are you doing?â
You nearly shoot straight out of your chair, your professorâs sudden call of your name shocking you out of your reverie. You had gotten so absorbed into your novel that you had forgotten to check to see if he was looking your way. âH-huh?â
âYou keep looking at your lap.â Professor Park remarks, peering up at you from his spot at the podium with an unamused frown. His thick-rimmed glasses made his pretty brown eyes appear even larger than they already were, blinking up at you like he was studying you through a magnifying glass. âYouâre not on your phone, are you? You know I have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to electronics.â
âOh! No, sir, Iâm justâŚâ your startled gaze bounces back to the book in your lap, and you swallow nervously. âReading.â
âReading?â Professor Park echoes, raising his brow. âWhat are you reading? I assume itâs not the textbook, from the look on your face.â
You blanche, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant as you snap the book shut and shove it down into the recesses of your school bag. âItâs nothing!â You reply far too quickly, sounding guiltier than sin.
Professor Park's lips pull into a thin line, his magnified eyes raking over your sweating face before trailing down to your bag, clasped protectively over your lap.
âGive it to me.â he orders curtly, stretching out his hand.
Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. âWhat?! W-why?!â
âReading anything that isnât the course material is against my class rulesâ I have it printed clearly on the syllabus, though with how you can never seem to pay attention I wouldnât be surprised if you missed it when I went over it at the beginning of the semester. I would recommend looking over it again to see if thereâs anything else youâve forgotten. Now, get up and hand me that book.â
The entire class has turned to look at you now too, dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on your every move. The silence is absolutely deafening. Your heart races and your hands tremble as you squirm in your seat, trying desperately to come up with some sort of escape as if you were in a horror movie; you might as well be, because out of all the ghouls and monsters you can think of, this has to be your worst nightmare.
You consider refusing. Technically, Professor Park couldnât force you to do anything you didnât want toâ hell, you could walk right out of the classroom right then and there if you really wanted to, with both your book and your dignity intact. After all, you were a grown adult paying to further your education out of your own pocket. Trying to confiscate your belongings as if you were a child was borderline insulting.
But you canât risk your grade over something like this, as embarrassing as it was, and you wouldnât put it past him to penalize you in some way for defying your orders. You were already struggling as it was, partly because of how difficult the coursework was and mostly because of how you could never concentrate whenever Professor Park was around. To make matters even worse, passing was a requirement for your degree. Getting even more on his bad side than you already were simply not an option.
It takes every ounce of energy you have to force yourself to stand up out of your seat and trudge down to Professor Park's podium, clutching your novel against your chest like you were clutching pearls. He has to pry it out of your hand with a considerable amount of force, because you canât seem to loosen your fingers around the cover.
You scamper back to your seat, but not before turning back to see Professor Park eye the cover with a startled expression. It would have been comical if you didnât feel like you were seconds away from throwing up all over your desk.
He places it gingerly face-down on his desk like he was handling a dead fish, and youâre both grateful and horrified that he noticeably avoids making eye contact with you when he steps back up on his podium. âYou can come by my office later to get it back, Miss L/N. I have a free period at six.â
âYes, sir.â You answer glumly, staring at your shoes.
Luckily for you, he dismisses the class only a few minutes later, muttering about something to do with grading papers. Youâve never ran out of that lecture hall so fast in your life.
âWhoa, whatâs up with you?â your friend Jungwon asks when you walk by him in the hall, looking up from his phone and tugging out his earbuds to cock his head in your direction. âYou look like youâve seen a ghost or something.â
You stop just long enough to realize that you were still running, even though you had made it nearly halfway across the building. âIâm so fucked.â You state simply.
âWhat? What happened? Did you do something to piss off Professor Park again?â
âYes. No. Kind of?â you cringe inwardly. Thereâs absolutely no way youâre telling Jungwon about any of what happened; heâd laugh at you to the point you fear you might actually start crying. âI donât want to talk about it. I gotta go.â
You shuffle away before he can respond, and while you feel bad ignoring him as he calls out to you in confusion, youâre focused solely on finding somewhere quiet and empty to hide out until your next class. And maybe grabbing an iced coffee or something. Just to drown out the tears as you wallow in your own misery.
Against all odds, you manage to make it through the rest of your classes. The wait was almost worse than getting caught, barely able to sit still in your seat as you panic inwardly for hours on end. If it was Professor Park's intention to psychologically torture you, he wildly succeeded.
And youâre absolutely sure it was, because the first thing you see once you step into his office is your professor lounging back in his chair reading your book.
âProfessor!â you yelp.
He glances up from your book, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes as he sends you a tight-lipped smile. âOh, Miss Y/N! Youâre just in time. I was just flipping through your book here, it seems awfully⌠interesting.â
You gulp, your trembling hands clutching the strap of your bag in a vain attempt to ground yourself. âUm, sir!â you squeak, rushing to his side to glance over his shoulder at what page he was on, praying to whatever god that will listen that he hasnât read anything raunchy. âI think it would be best if you, um, didnât read thatâŚâ
âOh?â He flips the page and quirks his brow, not even sparing you a second glance as he adjusts his glasses, âWhat do you mean?â
You rack your brain desperately for a good enough excuse, but you canât think of anything other than just how mortified you were, watching helplessly as your professorâs keen eyes scan over the pages. âCan I have it back now?â you say instead, your voice small and shaking.
âSurely you can wait just a little longerâ now Iâm dying to know why you donât want me to read this.â Professor Park's crooked smirk infuriates you.
Was there any possible way that you could talk your way out of this without telling him upfront that what he was holding in his hands was an erotica, one about a teacher and a student no less? You shuffle nervously, stumbling over your words as you try to stutter out something, anything, âYou, um⌠you wouldnât like it.â
He turns his head to look up at you again, the look in his eye sharply changing when he takes in your frightened state, into something you donât recognize and arenât sure you like. âHow can you be sure I wouldnât enjoy it? Iâm a fan of many different genres of literature, though Iâve never read anything quite like this before. Is it some sort of romance novel? If it is, you donât have to be ashamed, Miss Y/N. Iâm sure many young women such as yourself read these sorts of novels, though I strongly discourage reading them while Iâm in the middle of a lecture. Itâs simply disrespectful. Now, where was I?â
He trails his finger down the page as if he was looking for his place, and you bristle. âSir, seriously, donâtâ!â
âI followed my professor to his office, watching with bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk.â Â Professor Park begins to read aloud. You barely stop yourself from screaming, instead letting out a sort of pained choking sound. âHe stopped to stand behind me, looking down my shoulder as if he were looking over my essay just as I was. I had made three errors in my writing, each one circled in bright red ink. He seemed more upset about it than usual.â
âProfessor, please.â
ââPut that essay on my desk.â he said, so I did.â Professor Park continues, ignoring you. He had gave the professor character a stupid, high pitched voice when he spoke, which would have been funny if you werenât so humiliated. ââNow bend over with your elbows on my desk, so that you are looking directly at the essay. Keep your face very close.ââ
âStop it! Just let me have it!â You hated to talk to him this way, but if he continued reading any further⌠it took everything you had to keep yourself from running out of his office and crawling into the nearest ditch to die in.
âThatâs not how you should speak to me, Miss Y/N. Now you certainly arenât getting it back.â Professor Park retorted, his evil little smirk growing even wider. You wanted to hit him, or kick or scream, but you couldnât do anything except stand there and try your hardest not to cry. âI was puzzled, but I followed his instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. My nose was merely a centimeter or two away from the letter, which made it difficult to read. My skirt was starting to⌠to slide up the backs of my thighs, but I was sure that if I moved to tug it back down, I would just get into even more trouble.â
You grimace when Professor Park's voice broke, his smile slowly starting to slide off his face and twisting into something unreadable. But he did not stop reading. ââNow read the letter to yourself. Read it over and over again.â My professor said. I read: âIn todayâs rapidly evolving global landscape, the integration of technology inâŚâ and at the word âintegrationâ, which I had misspelled, heâ he⌠um⌠Oh.â
You began to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. Professor Park stares hard at the pages for a painfully long moment, his ears turning bright cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute mortification, he began to read aloud again. His voice had dropped that cheerful quality, however, sounding winded as if he had been hit upside the head. âAt the word âintegrationâ, which I had misspelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. I stopped reading with a loud gasp, shockedâ the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and despite my embarrassment I began to soak through my panties. At my silence, I was spanked again, even harder. âI said read it.â My professor reminded me. âBe a good girl and follow instructions.ââ
Professor Park shuts the book closed abruptly and looks up at you with a very red face and wide eyes. The tears that had been pooling in your lashes threaten to spill down your cheeks, so overcome with fear and embarrassment that your stomach turns like you're going to be sick. That was just what you needed to top off this already life-ruining experience, wasnât it; vomiting all over your professor after he uncovers your darkest, dirtiest secret.
âThis is extremely inappropriate material to bring on campus.â Professor Park finally says, his voice wavering.
âYes, sir.â
âAnd that relationship, itâs⌠wrong. Itâs against the universityâs code of conduct. Iâ he could get fired for that.â
âYes, sir.â
âYou shouldnât be reading this. Itâll put... thoughts in your head that donât need to be there.â
ââŚYes, sir.â Part of you wants to argue with him, remind him that youâre an adult and can read whatever it is that you would like, but you donât have the strength to.
He sighs heavily, like something important is weighing on his mind, and he hands you back your book before turning back to pour over the scattered, forgotten papers on his desk. âGo home, Miss L/N. And get rid of that book.â
You turn tail and scamper out into the hall, but you canât help but glance back into Professor Park's office as you leave. Heâs hunched over his desk with his elbows resting on the wood, his fingers tangled in his dark hair as he rests his head in his hands. It seems like something is bothering him, something bigger than grading papers or your stupid, silly book.
You donât stick around to find out what it is.
The next morning, you receive a rather hastily written email from Professor Park telling you that heâs cancelling classes for the rest of the week. Heâs come down with a cold, he claimsâ you and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach know better than to believe that.
You donât see him until that next Monday, but even then he might as well not have shown up at all. He struggles to get through his lesson plan even more than usual, and he wouldnât look away from his papers or the projector, even when one of your classmates raised their hand to ask a question. You spent the entire period gathering up the courage to go up to him after his lecture, but when you do he brushes you off with a lame, half-baked excuse about having papers to grade and no time to talk, grabbing his things in a rush and scampering out of the lecture hall before you can call out for him to come back.
The pit in your stomach opens up into a black hole, swallowing up everything except for overwhelming, gnawing anxiety. Itâs eating you up inside, manifesting itself in how youâve chewed your lips until they bled, and then bit your nails down to the quicksâ anyone with eyes could see that something was weighing on you, and you became increasingly tired of all your friends asking if anything was wrong, so once you were finished with your classes you took to hiding out in your dorm room curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around you as you sullenly binge-watched a k-drama youâve seen a thousand times.
While you were more of a homebody, your two roommates were much the opposite. Karina and Giselle loved to go out and party. Tonight was no different, the two of them flittering around the dorm as they got ready to go out to some club, and while they had given up on trying to get you to join them a while ago, something about the way you moped about seemed to reinvigorate Karinaâs desire to get you off of your ass and out on the town. She knew you better than anybody, and immediately she could sniff out that something was off.
âWhy donât you come with us? You can borrow one of my dresses.â She offers, rummaging through her collection of high heels. âItâs a Friday night, everyoneâs out! We can dance, we can find some boys to take home; itâll be fun. You look like you need some.â
âI donât need to have fun. I need to study.â You reply solemnly, scowling, but you make no moves to get up off the couch. It was a shitty excuse even to your own ears; it was obvious you didnât have any plans to do anything tonight except feel sorry for yourself.
âThatâs bullshit and you know it.â She huffs. You donât even have to look at her to know that sheâs rolling her eyes. âSomethingâs bothering you and you wonât even tell me or Gigi whatâs wrong. Donât you think a drink or two would be good for you? You can vent to us all night, too. I promise weâll listen.â
âI donât know if I even want to tell you about it.â
âWhy not? Weâre your best friends, Y/Nie. You can tell us anything, even if itâs stupid or embarrassing. If itâs bothering you this badly, itâs clearly something serious.â
You peer out from under the blanket to look over at Karinaâ the worry in her eyes makes your heart sink. Under normal circumstances, you wouldnât even consider taking her or Giselle up on their offers, but the way you were stuck running circles inside your head was far from normal. âYou promise not to laugh at me?â She smiles warmly. âNope. But I promise Iâll hear you out regardless.â
The loud, thumping bass reverberating throughout the club did very little to help ease your pounding headache. Your temples throbbed with every beat, the pressure so severe it felt as if your skull was just moments away from splitting in two. You donât think youâve ever been this uncomfortable in your life; the dress that Karina gave to you was a size or two too small, the shiny fabric so tight around your chest that you gasp for air. It would be difficult for you to breathe even in properly fitting clothes, the air hot and heavy from the throngs of sweaty bodies that surrounded you. You felt claustrophobic, the crowd closing in on you and threatening to swallow you wholeâ the only place to escape was to the bar, but even there youâre bombarded with flashing lights, deafening music, and the overlapping voices of everyone around you. You have to strain your ears to make out what Giselle was saying, and she was just on the barstool right next to yours.
âArenât you glad you came?â She giggles, sipping on a brightly colored cocktail. She had ordered a round of them for all three of you, and the amount of alcohol mixed in them felt like a sucker punch to the face, even with all the sickeningly sweet grenadine the bartender had used to try and mask the flavor. You watch in abject horror as both she and Karina downed them one by one like they were water.
âNo.â Â you reply honestly.
âYou will once you tell us whatâs going on with you!â Karina interjects from your other side. âI meant it when I said I wanted you to vent to us, let it all out and give us the tea! Aeriâs dying to know.â
âItâs really embarrassingâŚâ you admit, staring forlornly down at your own drink. âIâd rather just forget all about it.â
âIt canât be that bad. You didnât drop your pants in front of everyone or anything, did you?â
You cringe. âGod, no. Itâs not like that.â
âThen itâs nothing you canât tell us about.â Giselle shoots you a smile over the rim of her glass.
âItâs⌠itâs about Professor Park.â
âYou and Gigi's lit professor?â Karina asks, cocking her head. âIsnât he the one you have a massive crush on?â
Your cheeks flush, your drink becoming even more interesting as you avoid looking at either of them in the eye. âMaybe.â
âUgh, your taste in men is the worst.â Giselle snickers. âI donât understand why you like him so much. Heâs such a dick.â
You fight down the urge to defend himâ for some odd reason, you feel a surge of protectiveness over Professor Park, even when you completely agree with what Giselle is saying about him. âYes, I like him, but thatâs not the point. The point is that I totally fucked up and now I think he hates me.â
âWhat did you do?! Please tell me you cursed him out, he fucking deserves it.â
âNo, Gigi, oh my God.â Even the mere thought of doing something like that sends shivers down your spine. âHe caught me reading during class.â
ââŚThatâs it? Youâre freaking out over that?â Giselle blinks.
âItâs what I was reading thatâs the problem.â you lament miserably, gathering your courage with a sip of your disgusting cocktail. âI have this book; itâs about a teacher and a student⌠getting together, if you know what I mean. Itâs really dirty⌠and he caught me reading it in class. He took it, and then he read it himself right in front of me! He thinks Iâm a freak. Itâs been two days and he wonât even look at me.â
Karina and Giselle stare at you.
âWhy the hell were you reading a smut book in class?!â Karina gasps, her dark glittery makeup making her wide eyes look even wider. âAnd one about a professor, tooâ were you trying to get caught? Thereâs better ways to go about telling him that you want to fuck him.â
âI donât knowâ I was bored and stupid, okay?!â You had been asking yourself the same question for days, mentally beating yourself to a pulp every time it crossed your mind. âI thought he wouldnât notice me since I sat in the back⌠now heâs going to tell the dean, and Iâm going to get expelled, andââ
âWoah, woah, woah!â Giselle stops you in your downwards spiral, grabbing your shoulder to ground you. âYouâre thinking too hard about this. Heâs probably just a prude. If he was going to do something like that, he would have probably done it by now. Plus, I donât think thatâs really something you can be expelled over.â
You lean into her touch, resting your head on her shoulder as she pats your back comfortingly. âHeâs mad at meâŚâ you whine petulantly. âI was trying to get that TA position, too⌠fuck, Iâm so screwed.â
âWhat would he be mad at you for? Being horny?â Karina laughs, âItâs really his own fault for snooping in your stuff.â
âI think youâll still get it.â Giselle supplies helpfully. âYouâve really got nothing to worry about. Sure, your grade sucks, but Iâve seen the two of you talking in the hallway beforeâ the way he looks at you is insane. And the way he looks at your ass when you leave is even crazier. You just showed him that you feel the same way about him that he does about you.â
âDonât say that.â You groan. âYou think that about every guy I talk to. Thereâs no way in hell that Professor Park feels anything for me except hatred.â
âIf youâre really that worried about it, you can always just apologize.â Karina says, drumming her long nails against her glass. âIt might not do anything, but itâll make you feel better.â
That was the first bit of real advice either her or Giselle had given you in a while, even if it left a bad taste in your mouth. âI donât know. I feel like that would just make things worse. I need to go to the bathroom.â
You scramble off the barstool in a rush, teetering on your heelsâ you werenât even that tipsy, but every step made you feel like a newborn deer. Karina and Giselle watch you hobble away in pity.
You stumble through the crowd in search of a bathroom sign, quickly getting lost in the sea of bodies. Thereâs little room to move around, everyone pressed up against each other dancing, too intoxicated to notice you trying to politely squeeze by. They jostle and knock you around, and you nearly trip over your own wobbly feet multiple times. Your headache grows nearly unbearable, your desperation to find an escape leading you to start pushing people out of the way so you can continue to move forward. One particularly drunk woman nearly knocks you to the ground, and she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder when you shoulder past her roughly. You hate to be rude, but youâre teetering dangerously close to your breaking point. You need to find some peace and quiet, and fast.
But all of that goes out the window when among the countless bobbing and weaving heads, you spot a frighteningly familiar pair of broad shoulders.
âProfessor Park?!â you call out in shock, shoving your way towards him. âWhat are you doing here?!â
Without his suits and big clunky glasses on, you almost donât recognize him. He was leaning back against the wall with two men who you vaguely recognize as other professors at the university, talking and laughing amongst themselves with beers in their hands. You admire the profile of his strong, angular nose, the way his pronounced collarbones peeked out from the loose linen shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone to show a delicious strip of tan skin. His dark hair, usually gelled back to show his forehead, was left fluffy and untamed, framing his dark, intoxicating eyes. He jumps a little at your voice, turning away from the men to look at you.
His eyes widen sharply, moving slowly from your face down to your chest. They linger there for a moment, blinking owlishly, before he tears them away from you completely, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
âOh, um. Hello, Miss L/N.â he covers up his stutter with a weak cough, suddenly very interested in the state of his shoes. You make a quick mental note to thank Karina later for convincing you to squeeze yourself into this stupid dress.
âOh, this is Y/N?â One of the two other men slurs gleefully, a grin stretching across his handsome face. There was a certain hunger in the way he undresses you with his eyes, scanning you head to toe like a predator. You could tell from his flushed pink cheeks that he was very drunk. âIâve heard all about you! Itâs nice to finally put a face to the name.â
Something odd flashes in Professor Park's eyes and he jerks his head to shoot his friend a deathly glare. He was far too tipsy to notice.
âYouâve⌠heard about me?â you cringe, your heart sinking. Out of whatever Professor Park had to say about you, none of it could be anything good.
âOh, not much, just that youâre one of the brightest students that heâs ever taught.â The other man cuts in, chuckling. He tips his head back and takes a swig of his beer, flashing you his sharp jawline. âOne of his favorites to have in class, he says.â
âSuch a smart head on those little shoulders! You should consider taking my econ course next year, itâd be a gift to see your pretty face in my class.â The first man adds, his crooked smirk widening.
âJake, Jay, please.â Professor Park grits out through gritted teeth, anxiously running a hand through his hair. âIâm sorry, what did you say, Miss L/N?â
You splutter as your lips refuse to form words. You?! The brightest student heâs ever had?! That was just a complete and utter lie; if it wasnât for Giselle helping you with an extra credit assignment you had practically begged him on your knees for, you would be failing his class spectacularly. You couldnât fathom why Professor Park would say something like that to these two men, when nearly every class he was scolding you for being late, distracted, forgetting your deadlines, a combination of all three and more. Not only that, but with what had transpired the other day still fresh and stinging⌠they had to be saving face or making some kind of sick joke. As you collect your thoughts, you half expect them to start pointing and laughing.
âWhat are you doing here?â you repeat, peering up at Professor Park's blushing face. He avoids meeting your eyes, just like how he did in class.
âAm I not allowed to enjoy the start of my weekend?â he retorts, fiddling with the pull tab on his beer. âClearly, youâre doing the same.â
He spits out the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth. It stung like an insult. âI thought you said you were busy.â you assert, biting your lip to keep from scoffing. The liquor giving you a little too much courage; he was still Professor Park, even if now standing in front of you he looked like just any other guy.
âI⌠was.â He mumbles, âAnd now Iâm not anymore. Itâs really not any of your business.â
It takes everything you have to keep from blurting out that your book really wasnât any of his business either, but you manage to hold your tongue.
âIâm sorry, I justâ Sir, I need to talk to you.â
 âThereâs nothing to talk about.â He says matter-of-factly. Itâs far from what you were expecting him to say.
âWhat do you mean?â you challenge, your annoyance starting to turn sour. âItâs about the other day.â
Professor Park continues to play dumb, though he keeps throwing sidelong glances to his coworkers. âWhat about it?â
âI want to apologize.â You bite hard on your lower lip. For doing nothing wrong.
Professor Park's eyes snap up to meet yours, inky dark irises wide in shock. âY/Nââ
âApologize?â Professor Park's friendâ Jake, you thinkâ butts in, raising an eyebrow. âWhat happened?â
All the color leaves Professor Park's face, even the blush that was slowly trailing from his cheeks down his neck. He awkwardly clears his throat and averts his gaze, putting on a show of cupping his ear and pretending to be confused. âSorry, I canât hear you over all of this noise! If you have a question, Iâll be in my office tomorrow afternoon. Go on and have a good night.â
âWait, Professorâ!â
âHave a good night!â
It takes you a long time to find your way back to the bar, drunk, defeated, and stewing in your own thoughts. Youâre pleasantly surprised to see that Giselle and Karina have been sat waiting for you all this time, but you donât have it in you to feel happy or grateful as you plop yourself back onto your empty barstool. Their irritation quickly shifts to confusion and worry, both shooting you odd glances as Karina tentatively hands you another cocktail.
âAre you okay?â
âDid you get lost or something?â
You take a long sip, the disgusting sweetness and the bitter liquor overpowering your senses enough to calm your racing thoughts. âI think Iâm going to go and talk to Professor Park tomorrow.â is all you say.
âIf you fuck him, please put in a good word for me.â Giselle slurs drunkenly in reply. âI need to pass that fucking class.â
âYouâve been a bad girl, havenât you, Miss L/N?â Professor Park whispers in your ear, his deep voice dripping with honeyed venom. The fabric of his dress shirt ghosts over your back, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He has you trapped against his big wooden desk, bent over it obscenely with your ass in the air as you whimper and squirm. Your skirt and panties pool at your ankles, leaving your most intimate areas exposed for him to view. Your leaking pussy quivered from the icy cold air, your hole clenching desperately around nothing and aching to be filled.
âIâm sorry!â You mewl, voice wavering.
âYou didnât answer my question. What are you sorry for?â he presses, so deliciously condescending in the way he feigns ignorance, âApologize to me properly and tell me what it was that you did.â
âIâve been bad, sir. I was reading during your lecture, and Iâm sorryââ
âOh, you werenât just reading.â Professor Park scoffs, straightening himself up and off your back. He rounds the desk to circle you like prey, his slow methodical steps echoing throughout the quiet of his office. They echo in your ears and strike a dizzying mix of fear and anticipation in your heart.
âI-I was reading smut andâŚâ your face burns hotter than the sun, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath to will yourself to have the courage to admit what it was you were caught doing. ââŚAnd I was touching myself.â
âYouâre going to have to be more specific than that.â He stops to stand at your side, his mere presence hovering above you enough to make you shudder. âTell me exactly how you were touching that slutty little pussy.â
His words go straight to your core, making you squeeze your thighs together in need. Just a little friction was all you needed, and the edge of his desk granted a great opportunity⌠but as much as you wanted to, you couldnât let yourself give in to desperation and grind yourself against Professor Park's desk like a dog in heat. He would notice immediately, and it would only worsen your punishment.
âI was⌠I was rubbing my clit through my panties.â you admit ashamedly, âGrinding against my fingers. I was going to put one inside but you⌠you stopped me.â
âI could see your hand up your skirt all the way from the back of the class.â Professor Park spits, his carefully controlled demeanor cracking and his wild, untamed anger boiling to the surface. âItâs like youâre trying to get the two of us caught. Youâre lucky no one else was looking⌠or was that what you wanted? Did you want everyone to see what a slut you are?â
âN-no!â you gasp, but the idea gets you even wetter; you wanted nothing more than for everyone to know that he was much more than just your professor, that he was yours and in turn you were his. âIâm a slut j-just for you, no one else!â
âFuck, thatâs right.â he groans lowly, his voice dripping sex. He picks up a long wooden ruler off his desk, right by your head, and points the tip at the nape of your neck. It ran slowly down the curve of your spine, a ghostly barely-there touch that left a trail of fire erupt across your skin. He stops at the plush swell of your ass, gently caressing your flesh with the cold wood. âYouâre all mine. My favorite little student. You just need some discipline to put you back in your place, hm? Show me what a good girl you can be and count for me.â
He rears his arm back, poised and ready to strike. You can hear the ruler whooshing through the air, sharp and fast as he swings his arm forwardsâ
Your eyes snap open with a gasp. Suddenly, youâre back in your bedroom, curled up safe and sound in your bed, groggy and disoriented as you slowly come back down to reality. While you dreamt about Professor Park often, never had one felt this vivid, this real. You can still feel the echoes of his touch, the phantom pain of his ruler against your asscheek haunting you like a ghost. Your panties are soaked through completely, sticky arousal pooling in the fabric and dripping down your thighs, creating a wet spot on your sheets. You toss and turn to try and go back to sleep, but itâs no use; youâre so horny you canât think straight, canât ignore the dull throbbing in your core.
As your hand slides under the waistband of your panties, you decide that enough is enough.
You were at your breaking point. Your life had spiraled completely out of control in the span of just two days, all because your stupid puppy-love crush of a professor had to be nosy about your reading material. He just had to find a way to humiliate you even more than he already did, didnât he? He couldâve just given you your book back and the two of you could have gone on with your lives. He shouldnât have even taken your book in the first place! You could have continued fantasizing about him from the back of the class, not a worry in the world, instead of losing precious hours of sleep and mentally beating yourself up.
And after your interaction at the bar, you feel even more ridiculous. If Professor Park truly had the intention of telling someone about what he had caught you reading, wouldnât he have told the other professors that he was with? And lying to them about you being his smartest student⌠ you couldnât wrap your head around it.
It was clear that he didnât want to talk about it. But even if he wants to pretend like none of this ever happened, you just couldnât.
There was simply no other way for you to get over all of this other than finally confronting him. You needed to make the endless spiral stop, tell him exactly what was on your mind and finally put this to bed. The longer you stew over everything that has transpired, the more your fear and anxiety boils over into anger. This was all Professor Park's fault! You needed to give him a piece of your mind, or you donât think youâll ever be able to move on.
Professor Park doesnât answer until after the fifth knock, his face immediately dropping once he swings open his office door to see you standing there in front of him. His hair is a mess and his clothes are disheveled, his tie half undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Anxiously he adjusts his glasses, the wide brown eyes behind them looking like a cornered deerâs. âYou actually came over to apologize?â He blurts out before you can even open your mouth, genuine surprise taking over his features. âI didnât think youâ"
âActually, no, Iâm not here to apologize!â you declare, the words spilling out before you gave yourself the time to second guess yourself. You had lied awake until the sun came up thinking about what to say, and you werenât going to let those wasted hours go to waste. âIâm here to tell you, sir, that going through my book was an invasion of my privacy! And that itâs none of your business what I read! Iâm an adult, not a child, and I can do whatever I damn well please!â
Professor Park blinks owlishly, staring at you in stunned silence for so long that your newfound confidence falters and you begin to shuffle nervously.
âOh. Um⌠alright.â He finally says.
âAlright?!â you echo incredulously, your irritation coming back in full swing. âYouâve been avoiding me for days and all you have to say for yourself is alright?!â
Professor Park's eyes flicker around anxiously, and it suddenly hits you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. âI donât know what youâre talking aboutââ
âYes you do!â you shriek. This really wasnât how you were planning on any of this going, but it was far too late to turn back. You open your mouth to continue your rant, face burning hot with unbridled rage, but Professor Park quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you into his office. The sudden act shocked you into silence, your eyes wide and mouth agape as he drags you all the way back to his desk.Â
âListen.â He growls, his voice octaves deeper than youâve ever heard it before. âYouâre acting way out of line right now. Donât you dare ever talk to me like that, you understand me? Iâm still your professor, even when weâre not in class. Youâre to treat me with respectââ
âThen you treat me with respect first!â you retort, though you do manage to calm yourself down enough to lower your voice. âPlaying dumb and refusing to talk to me after humiliating me in front of everyone! What was even the point of doing that? Was it just for your own sick pleasure?!â
âY/N.â Professor Park sighs, the second time youâve ever heard him call you by your first nameâ the first was at the club, but you were far too distracted to dwell on it. âI know you have some sort of feelings for me. Youâre not very good at hiding it.â
Your entire world comes crashing around you, though you suppose that you shouldnât be too surprised. You had just let yourself hope beyond reason that he would never pay you any attention.
âWhat Iâm trying to say is⌠Y/N, you need to stop it. Get rid of the book. I canât be with you, itâll never work, okay? Iâm your teacher, and ten years your senior. Thereâs plenty of college boys around campus for you to ogle over instead.â
âYou say you canât but⌠do you want to?â you ask quietly, barely above a whisper.
Professor Park doesnât meet your eyes. âI could get in a lot of trouble, Y/N. You could too.â
âThat doesnât answer my question.â You challenge, a hopeful spark igniting in your chest. He didnât say no⌠and you may be looking too into things, or just clinging onto hope, but that was more than enough proof to you that your professor was hiding some feelings of his own.
âWe canât do this.â He mumbles, his voice growing wilder, more defiant.
âSure we can! Iâm an adult, youâre an adult⌠did I scare you away with my book or something? Look, itâs okay if it wasnât up your alley. Thereâs nothing wrong with being vanilla, Professor. You donât have to, like, spank me or anythingââ
âBut I do!â he interjects suddenly, his head shooting up to look at you with wild eyes. His entire face was bright crimson red.
âYou⌠wait, what?â you must have misheard him. That was the only explanation, surely; There was no way he actuallyâ
âI canât stop thinking about it! I thought there was no way youâd be into anything like that, that I needed to stop thinking about you and move on like a professional, but then you go and pull this, and now I canât go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! Itâs driving me insane! I canât even look at you!âÂ
âProfessorââ
âSunghoon. God, just call me Sunghoon. I canât handle you calling me that right now.â
You open and close your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of waterâ This was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your professorâsâ Sunghoon'sâmouth. Your eyes bulge out of your head, your face burns hotter than the sun⌠your pussy clenches pathetically. It felt like you were in a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazenâ if you wanted him, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?
âThen do it.â you say, voice barely above a whisper. He looks just as shocked at your proclamation as you were. âIf you want to do it that bad, do it.â
He moves in a flash, giving you no time to prepareâ within seconds has you thrown over his lap on his office swivel chair, your hair hanging in your face as you blink wildly at the floor. Sunghoon brushes one of his big hands against you skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasp all the same.
âDo you really want this?â He breathes, voice low, his breathing hardâthe outline of his cock presses hard against your stomach through his slacks, making it considerably hard to focus on the words that came out of his mouth.
It takes you a moment, but you manage to choke out a whiny âYes, sir, please.â
Sunghoon stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the fabric up to expose your ass, a noticeable wet spot present on your panties.
âSo prettyâŚâ He coos. You can feel his cock twitch against your stomach, those long knobby fingers trailing along the edge of your lacy thong. âIs it okay if I take your panties off, bunny?â
You whimper and nod your headâ Sunghoon lands a gentle love-tap to the junction of your thighs with an airy chuckle. âUse your words like a good girl.â
This couldnât be happening. You had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something, anything except truly living through this fantasy come to lifeâ Boring, bland Professor Park, the biggest prude you thought you knew, was just way too good at this, at making your legs shake and your pussy throb all the while barely touching you. In just an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that he had to be the worldâs biggest loser virgin to thinking that he was even sexier than the professor in your book.
You werenât sure how to feel about it, but your cunt did.Â
You must have stayed silent for too long, because without much warning Sunghoon lands a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. âBad girl!â he admonishes, and you can hear the teasing, rotten grin in his voice âCâmon baby, use your big girl words. Tell me how much you want it.â His hot breath fans over your earâ you couldnât hold in your moan even if you tried, the broken whine sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears.Â
âP-Please, sir⌠please take my panties off. Please spank me.â you whimper, your face beet red and your pussy droolingâ his deft fingers stroke slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through the cotton fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep from screaming.
âThatâs my good girl.â You could hear your panties rip as he tears them off of you in one solid motion, the biting cold air meeting your hot soaking cunt and making both you and Sunghoon hiss. He admires the slick leaking down your thighs for a brief silent moment, deep breathy voice cooing at the way you arch into him and his touch, before he straightens back up and lands a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. You yelp at the sting.
âThatâs for being a fucking tease,â he states, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. âBeing so fucking sexy all the time and driving me crazy because I thought I could never have you.â
You hadnât realized that this was confessional. Shooting him an evil smile over your shoulder, you giggle, âYou couldâve just asked.â
Another spank, this time with even more force. Your hips buck with a shrill cry spilling from your open, panting mouth, your eyes wateringâ you had no idea Professor Park was this strong. He refuses to give you any time to prepare, never warning you when the next hit to your ass will come. âI didnât say you could talk back to me.â He growls.
Youâre on the verge of tears from the red-hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at his words. âYouâre kinky.â
He just rolls his eyes, spanking you again, albeit a little softer. âAnd this oneâs for being a brat. How about you start counting for me, little girl? Thatâs one.â
âOne?! Youâve hit me four times!â Maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back, make him work for your submission and obedience. You relished pushing him as far as he would go; you relished losing.
Sunghoon grabs a handful of your hair and yanks hard, making you gasp loudly and your empty pussy flutter. Leaning down close to your ear, he lets out a warning growl; âI said fucking count.â
You donât think youâve ever been this wet in your life. Torn between bucking your hips into Professor Park's bulge and pushing back into the touch of his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of âOneâŚâ
The hand holding your hair lets go, your head falling limply over his knee. âThatâs my girl.â He coos lowly, stroking your head.
It distracts you enough that the next harsh slap to your ass feels even more intense than any of the others before it. âT-twoâŚâ
âThatâs for being so fucking disrespectful. And in front of my colleagues too, no less. Itâs like you were asking for me to ruin you.â he tsks. âYou need to learn to watch your mouth.â
The urge to say something smart tugs at you again, even if just to prove his point, but another spank rains down on your sore, bruising asscheeks before you can seize the opportunity.
âT-three!â
âAnd thatâs⌠thatâs for pushing me to put you over my lap in the first place. You couldnât just leave it alone, could you? And now look at you, making me risk my job to teach you a lesson.â Sunghoon's voice wavers, filling with an emotion you couldnât quite placeâ it was extremely difficult to focus on his words when his fingers began to trail down the curve of your ass to your sticky, quivering folds, rubbings the tip of his thumb right over your clothed core. You moan unabashedly, shifting your hips and opening your legs to give him better access to what was peeking out between your thighs.
The fifth spank never comes. He pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. He starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, his fingertips searching for that spongy spot inside of you. You grind your hips back against Sunghoon's fingers, a drooling mess against his slacks.
âPr-ProfessorâŚâ you whine high in your throat â you want more, want him to speed up, slow down⌠his touches were driving you wild. You hadnât been touched like this ever before.
âI told you not to call me that.â He hisses, curling his fingers against your sweet spot and making you keen. âPlease, call me by my name.â
âSunghoon!â you cry out, writhing against him. You felt a passion rising within you like the hottest fire, clouding your brain. You couldnât think of anything except of the pleasure that he gave you, couldnât utter out anything other than his name.
âSuch a slut, falling apart just on my fingersâŚâ he chucks huskily, enamored with the filthy wet sounds your cunt made and how they echoed through the quiet office. âIâve thought about doing this for forever, God⌠youâre just as beautiful as I thought youâd be.â
His thumb, wet from your arousal, comes down to rub tight, delicious circles against your sensitive, engorged clit, your strangled wail no doubt loud enough to be heard from the hallway. The building ecstasy distracts you enough for him to push in a third finger into your tight hole. The stretch burns but you love it, your hips kicking and moans growing louder and louder as he effortlessly takes you apart.Â
â...Too muchâŚ!â you manage to choke out, digging your teeth into the fabric of Sunghoon's slacks to keep yourself from screaming out in bliss. You felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his perfect talented fingers. He teases a fourth finger around your leaking, stretched out rim, the threat of it alone enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.
âOh baby, if this is too much thereâs no way youâll be able to take my cockâŚâÂ
The tears that had been brimming in your eyes start to stream freely down your burning cheeks, choked hiccups and sobs wracking your body, but it was the most pleasurable agony you had ever been in. Your hips move with a mind of their own, bucking against Sunghoon's cock, thick and hard as a rock, only seeming to grow bigger and bigger every time you rub against it. You relish the sharp intakes of breath he takes every time you move against him. He was starting to fall apart too, you could tell, his voice sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more whiny and pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy.
âIâm gonna⌠gonna make you cum on my fingers,â he whines low in his throat, his hand completely soaked in your arousal up to the wrist. âYou gonna make a mess for me?â
His fingers dig impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each perfectly aimed thrust. You wail and sob, your hand reaching back to grab a tight fistful of his shirt sleeve. âI-I-mâ âm gonna cum!â
Sunghoon's other hand, the one that had been stroking your hair, then comfortingly up and down your back, rises up to smack your ass, the sudden burst of stinging pain making you scream, and for real this time.
 âYou gotta ask first, bad girl! Gotta ask for permission b-before you cumâŚâ His voice starts to break, his hips stuttering helplesslyâ the feeling of his big fat cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly.Â
âCan I cum? Please, sir, can I cum? Iâll be a good girl, I promise, just let me cum!â you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at allâ all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way Sunghoon's fingers thrusted in and out of your pussy so good⌠you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers.Â
âShit, go on honey, my good girl⌠cum all over me, make a mess!â with his permission you let yourself topple over the edge, moaning and whimpering like a whore as you soak your thighs, his hand, his shirt and slacks with your juices. You lay across his lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, your chest heaving like you had just run a marathon⌠youâd never come before like that in your life, not as hard or for as long. Sunghoon was with you the whole way as you come down from your high, sweet as can be as he coos praises into your hair and pats your back, kissing your head when you raised it to look over your shoulder at him.
Slowly, you realize that you no longer feel his bulge poking at your belly. You release your iron grip on his shirt to slide your hand down his chest and abdomen, all the way down to gently cup his very wet crotch. âSirâŚ?â
âF-fuck... sorry, baby⌠couldnât help itâŚâ he turns his head away from you to hide his glowing red face, but you can see how his blush spreads down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.
âDid you just⌠cum?â you ask in awe and disbelief, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across the fabric of his slacks. Sunghoon only mumbles in response, refusing to answer or turn back to look at you, his blush growing an even deeper shade of red. It was all the confirmation you needed.
Professor Park came in his pants like a virgin without you even needing to touch him. Something about that alights a blazing inferno in your core, your senses overtaken with need even though you had just had an orgasm yourself.
âI want to taste it.â You breathe out, your overwhelming desire eclipsing any rational thought and taking control of your words.
âY-you⌠what?â his head snaps back to you in surprise, his eyes wide and clouded with lust as they gaze headily into yours.
âYour cum, wanna taste it, want it on my tongueâŚâ youâve never spoken like this to anyone, your voice not feeling like your ownâ the words spill out from between your lips mindlessly, desperate for more of his brain numbing pleasure as you rub him through his slacks. His cock twitches underneath your fingertips, beginning to harden again from the ministrations. âCan I please suck you off, sir?â
âFuck.â Sunghoon moans, rough and deep in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your sensitive pussy. âYeah you can, naughty girl, come on, get on your knees and suck my cock. Clean up my mess.â
Your entire body feels limp and weak, not wanting to cooperate with you as you slide off of his lap to the floor. It takes great effort to get yourself situated, kneeling on the floor with your unsteady hands grasping at his thick thighs. He widens his legs to give you more room to get comfortable, one of his big hands instinctively coming down to tangle in your hair as your own begin to slide up the insides of his thighs towards his straining belt buckle.
Ever so slowly and meticulously you unbuckle Sunghoon's belt, the jingling of the metal buckle as itâs casted aside like music to your ears. You pull his pants and boxers down together in one rough tug, Sunghoon canting his hips to help you guide them down his thighs. His cock springs free and slaps obscenely against his belly, smearing the light fabric of his dress shirt in his thick, viscous cum. You canât help but stop and stare, enamored by the sheer size of itâ nearly as thick as a can and twice the length of one, throbbing veins making your mouth water. Cum still leaks from his angry red tip, fat and bulbous, the entirety of his length wet and shiny down to his heavy, twitching balls and neatly trimmed pubes.
You kiss the tip with a delighted grin, the contact barely-there but enough to make him throw his head back and whimper in delight. Your tongue peeks out from between your lips to slide across his slit, earning a high-pitched needy hiss from the man above you, his long fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you lick down his dripping shaft. His thick, salty cum tastes like ambrosia on your tongue, the delicious bitterness quickly getting you drunk. You canât stop until you lick him completely clean, and even then itâs impossible for you to pull away, the feeling of his weeping cockhead heavy on your tongue far too addicting. Greedily you suck him into your mouth, relishing in the way his girth stretches your lips before swallowing him deeper and deeper until his tip knocks against the back of your throat. You can hardly fit your hands around him, let alone your mouth, fisting what couldnât fit down your throat as you start bobbing your head. More broken tears collect on your lashes and drip down your wet cheeks, looking utterly ruined and wanton as you gaze up from between Sunghoon's legs into his hazy, unfocused eyes.
The eye contact is too much for himâ his eyes roll back in his head with a whimper and his cock twitches violently inside of your mouth, the grip he has on your hair shifting from guiding your head along his shaft to tugging you off him with a sudden and disorienting strength. He pulls you off him with a wet pop, a foamy string of saliva connecting from his shiny cockhead to your needy whimpering lips.
âIâm gonna cum again if you donât stop,â he pants, gasping for breath, âI gotta fuck that pussy first, little girl, please. Need to feel that tight cunt squeezing around me.â
âDâyou wanna cum inside?â you goad, a lustful, mischievous grin overtaking your features, âDonât worry, Hoonie, Iâm on the pill. You can fill me up if you want to.â
Your words make him visibly shake, the nickname making him whimper, what was left of his flimsy resolve crumbling right before your eyes, leaving nothing but primal hunger. âGet on the fucking desk.â
You obey immediately, hardly able to contain your excitement as you stumble to your feet and bend over Sunghoon's big oak desk, wiggling your ass in the air invitingly. Your skirt was pushed up past your hips, exposing your dripping puffy hole for his eyes to feast upon.
âSo prettyâŚâ he croons behind you, his hands caressing your hips and waist. They smooth over the exposed globes of your ass, his fingers ghosting over your sticky, quivering folds. Pretty pink skirt that compliments your flushed skin, looks so delectable running through his fingers as he grabs your asscheeks and spreads them wide. âYou look so cute in pink.â
he hisses in appreciation at the sight of your dripping hole quivering, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your engorged clit. âHoly fuck, youâre so wet,â he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his handâ your pussy squelches obscenely, the lewd, pornographic sound making your cheeks flush. âI canât take it anymore, I have to be inside of youâ you can take it, right doll?â
âPlease!â you beg, hardly able to string together a sentence, âPlease, sir, put it in, I need it so bad, need your cockââ
Youâre interrupted by the feeling of his cockhead slapping against your entrance, Sunghoon running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear your little whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt in one smooth thrust. He rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his long fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you could have ever been prepared for. The burn is indescribable, overwhelming every single one of your senses in the best way, your tight gummy walls gripping his cock like a vice as the both of you struggle to adjust.
He's so deep inside of you it feels as if heâs poked through your cervix and into your womb, his big fat mushroom head snug right beneath your belly button. Youâre so deliciously full that it makes your head spin, already fucked completely brainless before he had even begun to properly move.
âDoes it hurt?â he asks you softly, so gentle compared to how he carved out your insides. In any other circumstance you would find it sweet that he was this concerned, but you were certain that if he didnât start moving inside of you right then and there, you were going to die.
âMore.â you croak back in response. âGive it to me.â
With a winded groan, he relents. He pulls his cock out until just the head was inside of you, giving you not a single moment to prepare before slamming back in with a force that knocks you further up on the desk. The hardwood against your cheek does nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek, so he improvises by shoving two of his thick fingers past your open lips, the musky tang of your own juices filling your mouth when you suck hungrily at the digits. He set up a punishing rhythm within seconds, his hips clapping loudly and wetly against your ass while he muffles your whines and wails. His heavy balls smack against your oversensitive clit with every rough thrust, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure straight to your core. The desk cuts into the skin of your hips painfully, but if anything, it only adds to the burning sweetness building steadily in the pit of your belly.
âF-fuck, Iâm close already!â Sunghoon puffs against the shell of your ear, pressing himself up against your backâ youâre suddenly thrown back into your dream from the night before, the way the sensations were eerily similar yet nowhere near as good as the real thing. âGonna cum inside you, is that okay? Wanna see how pretty your pussy looks dripping my cum.â
You can only drool in response, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts with a dizzying force. Your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighsâ faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. You wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely, and in turn pull Sunghoon down with you.
Your professor was going to cum inside of you. The fantasies that had haunted you for months truly became a tangible reality. What did you do to make you so lucky?
âThis slutty pussyâs sucking me in so fucking tight,â he groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, âTell me you want my cum, baby, come on. Whoâs cum do you want inside of you? Tell me and Iâll give it to you!â
âYours!â you shriek with the last remaining bits of your energy, your words nearly incomprehensible to how you sniffled and sobbed around Sunghoon's fingers. âWant your cumâ my professorâs cum inside of me!â
You took a gamble, but it was just what he wanted to hear. With one last aggressive thrust, he bottoms out inside of your pulsating cunt, his bulbous cockhead kissing your battered cervix as he cums with a broken cry. The sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you need to tip over the edge yourself, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all heâs worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. He hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. Thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out from where youâre connected, dripping down your thighs and Sunghoon's balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.
You gaze over your shoulder to watch as he slowly and carefully pulls out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock. His glasses were fogged up from his heavy breathing, his hair and clothes even more a mess than it was when he had first opened the door, his pink face so irritatingly kissable when he shoots you a nervous smile.
You cant help but giggle at him.
âYouâre not going to⌠tell anyone about this, are you?â he asks you anxiously, opening one of the deskâs drawers to retrieve a packet of tissues.
âAs long as you explain to me why you told those other professors that I was your best student.â You reply smartly, your grin widening when he scowls.
âIt was the only way I could think of how to explain why I talk about you so much.â He admits, a little shy, wiping down the mess between your thighs with a fistful of cheap, scratchy tissues. âNow, if you donât mind, Iâd rather if we continued that charade so it doesnât look suspicious when I ask you to come to my office every once in a while.â
âWill you give me that TA position then?â
âYou technically donât qualify,â He laughs, âbut I thought that was a given.â
âYou wonât regret bending the rules a little, I promise.â You tell him with a wink and a smile. The love-stricken grin he shoots back at you in return makes your heart soar.
Donghyuck's mom calls him at least once a day. It has been like that ever since he moved out of town for this new job. She's always asking about his great achievements of the day, no matter how small and insignificant they are. But Donghyuck can't help it. He's a showoff. So he has been talking about an imaginary girlfriend for a few weeks now. The problem is: his parents are now dying to meet their future daughter in law.
warnings: fake dating, smut, !MDNI!, fluff, haechan is a mama's boy :(, whiny!haechan, unprotected sex
wordcount: 8,4k
AN: guys I got caught up writing this, I was in my feelings and I just thought it was so wholesome I couldn't stop...sigh, I hope you'll like it, it's probably less smutty than the other parts of this series but it's the most romantic one so far so you will eat it up.
business casual series masterlist!!!
Donghyuck is speed-walking down the sidewalk, his tie slightly crooked, a half-eaten piece of toast clamped between his teeth. His phone buzzes in his pocket, again, and he groans before answering, voice muffled by his breakfast.
"Mom. Iâm literally about to be lateâ"
"Hellooo, my hardworking son! Running late because you stayed up finishing that big project, right? I knew it!"Â His motherâs voice is loud, proud, and completely unfazed by his distress.
Donghyuck scoffs, dodging a slow-walking old man. "No, I stayed up because Chenle kept sending me terrible memes at 2 AMâ"
"Ah, never mind that! Did you eat? Did you drink water? Did youâ"
"Yes, yes, yesâMom, Iâm fineâ"
"Good! Because I was just thinkingâŚâ A pause. Very uncommon.
âWhen are we meeting your girlfriend, Son?"
Donghyuck nearly chokes on his toast. "My what?"
"Your girlfriend! The one youâve been telling me about! The one who brings you coffee every morning and laughs at all your jokes?"
His brain screeches to a halt.Â
Oh. Right. That.
Weeks ago, in a moment of sleep-deprived bravado, he might haveâŚÂ embellished his daily achievements...
"Yeah, Mom, I totally aced that presentation. And, uh, my girlfriendâyes, my gorgeous, brilliant girlfriendâshe said I was the smartest guy in the office, so yeah, we hit it off and started dating."
And now, his motherâs voice is dripping with excitement. "Youâve been dating for weeks and you havenât even sent me a picture! Whatâs her name? What does she do? Is she pretty? Of course sheâs pretty, my son has tasteâ"
Donghyuckâs eyes darted around wildly, as if the sidewalk might provide an escape. "Uh. Her name isâ" Nothing comes to mind.Â
Because Donghyuck is as single as one can be. Why did he even have to tell her that? How stupid he could be sometimesâŚÂ
âYou know what, Mom? Iâll bring her over this weekend, youâll meet her.âÂ
He spoke before he even realised what he was saying, too busy trying to make his way on time to the office.Â
âReally? Thatâs fantastic, Son!â Donghyuckâs momâs voice was high and buzzing. He could almost hear her bouncing on her feet through the phone. âTomorrow? Iâll prepare everything! Does she like kimchi jjigae? Iâll make it for you!âÂ
Donghyuckâs eyebrows furrowed as the realization of what he just said started to sink in slowly. He would have said something, but on the other end of the line, his mom was already ending the conversation as she babbled about going right now to the grocery store.Â
"Yeah, yeah... Bye Mom. See you tomorrow..."
Oh, he was fucked.
The office was rhythmed by the frantic clack of keyboards, buzzing of printers, and distant chatters of receptionists on the phone, until the main door slammed open with force.
A whirlwind of disheveled brown hair, a crooked tie, and palpable panic stumbled into the open space, tripping slightly over his own feet, his messenger bag swinging wildly in his path.Â
You looked up from your spreadsheet, alerted less by the door and more by the frantic stomp-stomp-stomp heading for the desks.Â
Donghyuck's eyes, wide and slightly wild, scanned the room like a trapped animal before they landed on you.
"YN!"Â He gasped, your name exploding out of him like a burst of relief.Â
He practically hurled his bag onto his own desk in his box, right across yours, sending a precarious stack of unsorted files cascading onto the floor. "Thank every star in the sky, you're here!"
You raised a single, skeptical eyebrow, your fingers pausing mid-formula. "I'm always here. Unlike you."
He ignored the look and the remark, already weaving around the labyrinth of low-walled cubicles like a pinball, zeroing in on yours. "YN," he declared again, skidding to a halt in front of you.Â
His expression was unnervingly grave, the kind usually reserved for server crashes. "I need your help. Desperately. Like, life-or-death, my-mother-might-actually-disown-me levels of desperate."
You minimized your spreadsheet, leaning back in your chair with deliberate slowness, crossing your arms in front of your chest, and a faint smirk played on your lips. "What's your reason for being late today, Donghyuck?"
He waved a dismissive hand, the gesture frantic. "Pfft, alarm clocks are traitorous constructs designed by the universe to test me. You know that, that's irrelevant!"Â
He glanced around furtively, then invaded your personal space bubble, perching himself precariously on the very corner of your desk. One of your neatly stacked sticky note pads wobbled dangerously.Â
Now, you had to look at him.Â
His eyes were pleading pools of exaggerated distress. "Y/N. Focus. Help. I need you."
Sighing, you plucked the wobbling sticky notes to safety. "Alright, Drama King. What catastrophic favor do you need this time? Did you promise Mark youâd reorganize the entire inventory by lunch? Again?"
He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a stage whisper that probably carried to the break room. "Worse. So much worse."Â
He took a deep, shuddering breath, bracing himself. "I... may have accidentally... sort of... invented a girlfriend."
You blinked. "...Invented?"
"For my Mom!" he clarified, his voice climbing back towards panic-pitch. "She calls every day, Y/N! Every. Single. Day. Asking about my 'great achievements'! And sometimes... sometimes a man needs to embellish! So I might have mentioned... a certain amazing, beautiful, brilliant, coffee-bringing, laugh-at-my-jokes-even-when-they're-terrible girlfriend!"
The pieces clicked. You stared at him, the absurdity dawning.Â
"Donghyuck... you didn't."
"I did!" he moaned, slumping forward and burying his face in his hands for a second before snapping back up, eyes wide with renewed terror. "And it was fine! Great, even! Until this morning! On my way here, already late because someone's alarm clock is a saboteurâ"
"âYou mean your alarm clockâ"
"âMy mom calls!" He bulldozed over your correction. "She's so excited! She wants to meet 'the lovely girl who's finally tamed my wild heart'! Tomorrow night! Dinner! At their place!"
He looked at you, the picture of abject misery mixed with desperate hope.
"Y/N," he breathed, leaning close. "You have to be my fake girlfriend. Just for one dinner. PleaseâŚâ
Your eyebrow arched impossibly higher, skepticism readable on your face.
"Why donât you ask someone else?" Your voice was flat, perfectly calibrated to convey that his impending parental doom ranked somewhere below alphabetizing the supply closet on your list of concerns. "Jisoo in Accounting smiles at you sometimes. Or that intern, Mina? She brought you coffee last week. You have plenty of options."
"Jisoo thinks my jokes are 'stress-inducing'!" Donghyuck wailed, his voice cracking slightly. He leaned further over your desk, invading your airspace like a mosquito. "Mina flinches if I move too fast! You're the only woman who talks to me, YN! The only one to tolerate me!"
He slammed a palm down on your desk for emphasis, making your pencil cup rattle. "Pleeeeeaase!" You definitely heard the distinct, petulant thump-thump-THUMP of his dress shoe hitting the cheap office carpet.
Three times. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum.Â
"I'll be ruined! Utterly humiliated! My mom will cry! Actual tears! Do you want that on your conscience? Huh? Do you?"
He actually got on his knees.Â
On the floor.Â
Right next to your chair.
"I'll do anything. Anything. Name it. I'll owe you forever. I'll do your expense reports for a month! I'll cover your weekend shifts! Just...please." He pleaded, his hands joined dramatically in front of his forehead.
You slowly swiveled your chair to face the human disaster crumpled under you. He lifted his head, eyes wide and suspiciously shiny. For a second, you thought he might go as far as to cry to get what he wanted.Â
He looked like a kicked puppy, really.
A long, slow sigh escaped you, heavy with the weight of impending regret. You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache blossom. "Donghyuck..."
He perked up instantly. "Yes? Yes! What? Anything!"
You leveled him with your best unimpressed stare. "...Just once."
"YES! JUST ONCE! IT'S ONE DINNER! PERFECT!"Â He shot upright, nearly knocking over your monitor. The transformation was instantaneous: despair evaporated, replaced by manic, giddy relief.Â
He pumped a fist in the air. "You are an angel! A goddess! The absolute best fake girlfriend a guy could everâ"
"âShut up, Donghyuck," you cut him off, already turning back to your screen, the beginnings of a profound sense of foolishness settling in your stomach. "Just... shut up. And get off my desk before you break something. And my price is two months of your Friday night shifts."
"Done! Sold! You drive a hard bargain, fake-love-of-my-life!"Â He practically bounced off your cubicle, radiating triumphant energy that felt wildly disproportionate to the catastrophic lie heâd just cemented.Â
"Okay! Okay. Details. I'll text you the address. Dress... nice! But not too nice! Mom will get suspicious if you look like you're trying too hard for little old me..." He winked, the smugness already creeping back in, the whiny supplicant momentarily forgotten. "...even though you totally should."
He scurried back towards his own disaster zone of a desk, humming, the picture of a man who had narrowly escaped doom and was now blissfully ignoring the ticking time bomb heâd strapped to both of you.
You stared blankly at your screen. Out of pity, you told yourself firmly.Â
Strictly out of pity.Â
The soft, greyish light of early evening filtered through your apartment window, catching the dust motes dancing in the air. You straightened the hem of your skirt in the full-length mirror propped against your entryway wall, its surface slightly warped with age. The outfit was nice, demure but flattering: a sweater and a skirt that said "I have my life together but Iâm not trying too hard".Â
Perfect for a meeting with your fake in-laws.
Tch. The sound of your own derision was sharp in the quiet apartment.Â
Fake in-laws.Â
The absurdity of it all curdled in your stomach. You were about to spend your Friday night performing in a play written, produced by, and starring Donghyuck, with you as his unwilling love interest.
It was ridiculous.Â
A sigh escaped you, fogging the mirror for a second before clearing. You looked at your reflection one more time and grimaced.Â
Your phone screen, dark and silent on the console table beside you, offered no reprieve. You tapped it. 6:40Â PM.Â
Donghyuck was supposed to be here at 6:30.
As expected.
A dry, humorless laugh escaped you. Of course, he was late.Â
The man whose entire existence seemed to operate on his own standard time was late to the very catastrophe he himself had engineered.Â
You wondered, idly, what his excuse would be this time. A sudden and urgent need to reorganize his drawers? Or perhaps a critical emergency? You could already hear his voice, a little too loud, a little too breathless, offering a dozen convoluted reasons that all boiled down to one simple truth: he was Donghyuck.
Should you put your shoes on already?Â
It felt like a commitment, the final step before crossing the threshold into this farce.Â
What were you even doing? This was a colossally stupid idea.Â
You could still back out. You could text him a simple âSorry, came down with a sudden case of common sense and decided to spend the night with takeout and a movie, blissfully free of maternal interrogation and your brand of chaotic energyâ.
But then the memory flashed, unbidden: his head dropped onto your keyboard, his voice muffled and desperate. âMy mom will cry! Actual tears! Do you want that on your conscience?â And worse, the image of him on his knees on the grimy office floor, his eyes wide and shining with a panic that felt⌠genuine.
You swore under your breath. Out of pity. Strictly out of pity.
Your phone buzzed suddenly, and you snatched it up.Â
Hyuck: Turning onto your street!
You rolled your eyes and finally slipped on your shoes, sealing your fate.
A minute later, the sputtering rumble of an engine that had seen better days echoed from the street below, followed by the cheerful beep-beep of a horn.Â
You leaned over your sink, peering through the window. Down below, crammed into a tiny, brightly colored sedan, was him. He had the driverâs side window rolled down, one arm hanging out, and he was waving enthusiastically up at your building as if he hadnât a care in the world and wasnât 15 minutes late.Â
Your phone buzzed again.Â
Hyuck: Your chariot awaits princess!
Another sigh, this one laden with the weight of a thousand poor decisions.Â
You gave your reflection one last, lingering look. The woman in the mirror looked back, a mix of apprehension and reluctant amusement in her eyes. This was it. The point of no return.
You grabbed your bag, turned off the light, and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door on your quiet, sane evening.Â
The car was even smaller on the inside than it had looked from your window. It smelled faintly of old leather, cherry air freshener, and, underneath it all, Donghyuckâs cologne.Â
He beamed at you as you buckled your seatbelt, his earlier panic replaced by a giddy, nervous energy.
"You look... suitably not-trying-too-hard!" he announced, giving you an approving once-over before putting the car into a gear that protested with a concerning grind. "Perfect. Mom will love it. She appreciates an understated effort."
"Glad my outfit meets the approval of your fictional narrative,"Â you deadpanned, staring out the window as the city began to blur past.
"Our narrative," he corrected cheerfully, swerving around a delivery scooter. You quickly gripped the handle above the door. "Which is why we need to get our stories straight. We can't have any slip-ups! My mom has a sixth sense for this stuff, I swear. She once knew I failed a math test just by the way I said 'hello'."
"Donghyuck, it's a dinner, not a CIA interrogation." You sighed. âPlus, Iâm sure your parents are not that badâŚâ
"You say that," he said, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "But you've never been on the receiving end of her line of questioning. It's brutal. So! Let's practice."
He cleared his throat, adopting a higher, sweeter tone. "So, Y/N, darling," he began, glancing at you. "How did you and my wonderful son first meet?"
You blinked. "At the office...?"
"Ugh, no! Too boring! Too plausible!" he groaned, tapping the steering wheel for emphasis. "We need romance! Serendipity! Think! We met... at the coffee shop downstairs! You spilled your latte all over my brand-new, very expensiveshirt!"
"And that made you fall in love? I'd have sued me for dry cleaning."Â You snorted.
"No, see, I was charmed by your clumsiness!" he insisted, his eyes wide with the brilliance of his own fiction. "And you were so flustered and adorable, you offered to buy me a new one, and I said, 'A new shirt? How about you treat me to a coffee someday, instead?"
You stared at him, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across your face. "You did not just say that."
"I did! Smooth, right?"
"That's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."
"It's romantic!" he whined, the sound fitting perfectly with the car's engine. "Fine. Your version, then. How did we meet?"
You thought for a second, watching the streetlights begin to flicker on. "You were trying to microwave your lunch in the office kitchen for, like, ten minutes and couldn't figure out why it wasn't working."
"...Why wasn't it working?"
"You hadn't taken it out of the foil wrapper. So I helped."
Donghyuck was silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, a loud, unreserved sound that filled the tiny car. "Okay, yeah. That's way more believable. We'll go with that. Our love bloomed over a sparking burrito and my utter helplessness. Mom will adore that. It plays into her 'my poor son needs looking after' narrative perfectly."
You had come up with this story to tease him, really, but he seemed genuinely pleased with this, humming as he switched lanes. "Okay, next! Pet names. What do I call you?"
"Y/N."
"No, I mean, like, a cute couple-y name! Honey? Sweetheart? Baby?"Â He said the last one with a ridiculous, exaggerated pout.
"If you call me baby even once, I will tell your mother about the time you tried to use a paperclip to 'reset' the server and nearly wiped the entire quarterly report."
He gasped, genuinely horrified. "You wouldn't."
"Try me,"Â you said, your voice flat.
"Noted. No pet names. You're no fun," he pouted, but it quickly morphed back into a look of concentration. "What about our first kiss? We need a story. Was it a passionate, rain-soaked confession? A clumsy bumping of noses after a movie? Aâ"
"It hasn't happened yet," you interrupted, your face feeling strangely warm. "We've only been dating a few weeks. It's new. We're taking it slow. That's a perfectly normal thing to say."
Donghyuck snapped his fingers. "Genius! Playing hard to get! I like it. Makes me look persistent and respectful." He nodded, a master strategist approving a battle plan. "Okay, okay. Last thing. We need to act like we like each other. You know, couple stuff."
"What kind of 'couple stuff'?"Â you asked, suspicion creeping into your voice.
"You know!" he said, waving a hand vaguely. "Look at me fondly when I'm talking. Laugh at my jokesâwhich you should be doing anyway, they're hilariousâmaybe... hold my hand or something under the table. Normal, fake-dating things!"
The car fell into a slightly awkward silence, punctuated only by the sputtering of the engine.Â
You both stared straight ahead, the unspoken weight of that simple suggestion hanging between you.Â
Holding his hand. It was a ridiculous, performative gesture for a ridiculous, performative evening. So why did the thought of it make your stomach do a funny little flip?
"We'll... play it by ear,"Â you finally said, your voice a little tighter than you intended.
"Right. By ear. Cool, cool,"Â Donghyuck replied, suddenly very interested in adjusting the rear-view mirror.
He drove the rest of the way in uncharacteristic quiet, the only sound the rumble of the car and the frantic, hopeful, and utterly ridiculous beat of your own heart.
Minutes later, the sedan wheezed to a stop in front of a modest, well-kept house that seemed to radiate warmth even from the curb. Flower boxes adorned the windows, and the faint smell of grilled meat somehow already permeated the car.
"Okay," Donghyuck breathed, killing the sputtering engine. The sudden silence was deafening. He turned to you, his earlier demeanor replaced by a flicker of genuine nerves. "Showtime. Remember: lunch, no pet names, taking it slow."
Before you could reply, the front door flew open.
"Donghyuck!"
A woman who could only be his mother stood there, beaming, wiping her hands on a red apron. She was smaller than you imagined, but somehow, her presence filled the entire doorway.Â
She hurried down the path, and Donghyuck barely had time to get out of the car before she was pulling him into a tight hug, fussing over his crooked tie.
"Look at you! So handsome! And you must be Y/N!" she exclaimed, releasing her son and turning her full, radiant attention to you. Her eyes crinkled into kind crescents. "Oh, he didnât do you justice at all! Youâre absolutely lovely!"
"Good evening, Mrs. Lee. It's so nice to finally meet you," you said, bowing slightly, your voice a little steadier than you felt.
"None of that! My name is fine! Come in, come in, you must be freezing!" She looped her arm through yours, effortlessly pulling you towards the house as if you were an old friend, leaving Donghyuck to trail behind. "I hope you're hungry! I made enough to feed his whole office!"
The inside of the house was a comfortable haven of family photos, knit blankets, and the overwhelming, delicious smellof home cooking. In the living room, a man who shared Donghyuckâs nose and kind eyes stood up from an armchair, setting aside a newspaper.
"Dad, this is Y/N,"Â Donghyuck said, his voice softer, more respectful than youâd ever heard it at the office.
Mr. Lee offered a small, warm smile and a firm handshake. "Welcome. It's good to meet you. Hyuck talks about you all the time." His voice was a quieter, deeper version of his sonâs, and you instantly saw where Donghyuck got his playful tone from.
Dinner was a whirlwind of delicious food and easy conversation. Mrs. Lee was a masterful interviewer, asking you about your work and family with a sincere interest that never felt prying. Donghyuck, for his part, was⌠different. The loud, whiny office persona had completely melted away.Â
Here, in the comfort of his family home, he was softer. He listened intently, chiming in to tease his mom gently ("Mom, stop interrogating her, she's going to think we're crazy!"), or to proudly elaborate on a story you were telling.
You were in the middle of recounting a particularly frustrating project, the words flowing more easily than you expected in the warm, accepting atmosphere. "...and the client just kept changing the goalposts, right up until the deadlineâ"
A shift in movement beside you.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Donghyuckâs hand twitch on his thigh, then lift haltingly. There was a brief, suspended moment of hesitation before his fingers brushed against the fabric of your skirt, coming to rest lightly on your knee.
The touch was warm, a little tentative. It was clearly meant to be a supportive, couple-y gesture for his parents' benefit, but the delivery was awkward, his fingers stiff. It felt less like a performance and more like a question.
You instinctively stilled, your sentence trailing off. The touch was⌠not unpleasant. Soothing, even, in its clumsy way. But it was a stark reminder of the charade, a jolt back to reality.
Donghyuck seemed to realize it at the exact same second. As if your leg had electrocuted him, he snatched his hand back, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He cleared his throat, suddenly shifting his attention to a loose thread on the tablecloth.
The abrupt absence of the warmth of his hand then felt stranger than the touch itself. It left a cold patch on your knee and made the whole interaction seem even more glaringly fake.
Without fully thinking, and propelled by a mix of stubbornness and a desire to smooth over the awkwardness heâd just created, you moved.Â
Your hand dropped beneath the table, your fingers finding his where they now rested on his own leg. You gave them a quick, slight squeeze, a signal, and then guided his hand back onto your knee, firmly placing it there yourself.
You chanced a glance at him. Donghyuckâs head had snapped toward you, his eyes wide with pure shock. His mouth was slightly agape, all traces of his usual smooth bravado completely gone.
Your face felt warm. You offered him a small, tight, and awkward smile. You gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod toward his parents, who were watching the two of you with fond, oblivious smiles.
He blinked, the shock in his eyes slowly melting into a dazed sort of understanding, then something warmer, more unreadable. His fingers, which had been rigid with surprise, slowly relaxed against your knee. This time, his palm settled more naturally, his thumb making a soft, absent-minded sweep against the side of your leg before stilling.
You turned back to his parents, forcing yourself to finish your story. "...So, we managed to get it all done, but just barely!"
All throughout dinner, you caught yourself laughing, a real, unforced laugh, at endearing stories Mr. and Mrs. Lee told about young Donghyuck, a sweet feeling of easiness creeping up your heart and senses. Â
You found yourself smiling more, your shoulders loosening from their usual guarded hunch. The domesticity of it allâthe clatter of dishes, the gentle bickering between mother and son, the fatherâs quiet, amused observationsâwas a balm you hadn't known you needed.
âYN, darling, can you help me with these plates, please?â Mrs. Lee asked, and you promptly followed her into the kitchen
"He seems happier," she said softly, handing you a dish towel. Her back was to you as she started the water. âIâve never seen him like this.â
Your heart gave a complicated thud. The lie felt heavy and sharp in your chest, surrounded by so much genuine kindness.
âI think heâs really happy to be home as well,â you said, fidgeting. âHe talks about you a lot.â That, at least, was the truth.Â
She turned then, her eyes a little shiny. "He's a good boy. A little... much, sometimes," she said, waving a soapy hand fondly. "But his heart is so big. I'm glad he found someone who sees that."
Back in the living room, you found Donghyuck and his father engaged in a quiet debate about a baseball match. Donghyuck was gesturing animatedly, but his voice was warm and engaged. He looked up as you entered, and his face broke into a smile that was smaller, less performative than his usual grins. It was just⌠happy. It reached his eyes, crinkling the corners.
For a moment, the line between the act and reality blurred into nothing.Â
The warmth of the house, the affection in his parents' eyes, the quiet, endearing version of Donghyuck on the couch, it all felt disarmingly real.Â
And the most ridiculous part of it all was that you wished, just for a second, that it was.
The final bites were savored, the comfortable silence punctuated by Mrs. Leeâs satisfied sighs. As you helped clear the last of the plates, Mr. Lee leaned back in his chair, a glint of quiet amusement in his eyes that was so like his sonâs.
âDonghyuck,â he said, his voice a low rumble. âWhy donât you show Y/N around? The gardenâs looking nice since your motherâs been terrorizing the weeds.â
Donghyuck, who had been basking in the apparent success of the evening, froze mid-stretch. âTheâthe garden? Right now? Itâs dark out, Dad.â
âThen show her the house,â his mother chimed in, wiping the table with a knowing smile. âGo on. Weâll clean up.â
It was a clear, gentle dismissal. A chance for the âcoupleâ to have a moment alone. Donghyuckâs ears turned pink, but he nodded, pushing his chair back. âRight. Okay. Yeah. A⌠tour. This way.â
He led you out of the dining room and into the quiet of the hallway. The moment you were out of sight, the tension broke. He slumped against the wall, running a hand through his hair as a breathy, incredulous laugh escaped him. You leaned against the opposite wall, a mirror of his relieved posture, and a giggle bubbled up in your own throat.
âOh my God,â he whispered, his eyes wide with a mixture of panic and triumph. âThey bought it. They totally bought it. My mom was looking at you like youâd personally hung the moon.â
âYour dad is terrifyingly perceptive,â you whispered back, your smile widening. âI thought he was going to ask for our coupleâs membership card.â
âI know, right? The quiet ones are deadly.â He shook his head, the absurdity of the situation washing over both of you.Â
In the shared, silent laughter, the strange, charged moment from the dinner table felt miles away. He was just Donghyuck again, your ridiculous, panicky coworker.Â
And yet, seeing him here, softened by the glow of his childhood home, a new feeling bloomed in your chestâa fond, endeared curiosity.
You pushed off the wall, a playful glint in your eye. âSo? Whereâs the grand tour? I want to see it all. The scene of the crime.â
He raised an eyebrow. âThe crime?â
âWhere Lee Donghyuck, local menace, grew up,â you clarified, grinning. âI specifically want to see your childhood room. I need to see the shrine to your greatness. I bet itâs covered in gold-plated trophies.â
He scoffed, but a proud, boyish smirk tugged at his lips. âItâs not a shrine. Itâs a⌠curated museum of my formative years. But fine. Since you begged.â
He led you down the hall and pushed open a door. âPrepare yourself,â he said, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. âThe aura of greatness in here is overwhelming.â
You came in, and the air in the room hung thick with nostalgia and the ghosts of adolescence. In there, the scent of old paperbacks mingled with dust, and the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling shone faintly.Â
Shelves bent under the weight of manga volumes and action figures: all of them testimonies of Donghyuckâs teenage days, holding some of his most precious memories.
On the wall, amidst other posters, was a framed photo of a gangly, grinning Donghyuck holding a basketball trophy. It was a shrine to a boy trying too hard to be cool, but as cocky as he looked, it made your lips curve into a soft smile.
"Thank you so much!" Donghyuck's voice shattered the quiet, followed by the dramatic sound of him collapsing onto his twin bed with a loud sigh of relief. "Seriously, yn. Lifesaver. Hero. Saint. Pick a title, it's yours. My parents are obsessed with you. I think Dad might like you even more than he does me."
You turned away, fingertips tracing the gritty layer of dust on his old dresser. A soft, non-committal hum was your only reply. He wasn't wrong.
It had been surprisingly...easy. It felt more natural than you'd ever admit aloud, and the confession sat heavy on your tongue:Â it felt good.
His parents were good people. Warm, caring, radiating a sincerity that felt like sunlight after years in the fluorescent sterility of the office, where you hid most of the time.Â
They'd asked about your hobbies, your family, your favorite dishes... All while their eyes crinkled with genuine interest.
You'd spent your adult life building careful walls against exactly this kind of easy domestic intimacy, in case you got attached, just for it to end up vanishing.Â
Yet, the shared laughter mingling with the scent of homemade cooking, the way his mother patted your hand, and the terrifying comfort of Donghyuck's warm hand resting on your thigh throughout dinner... It felt like stepping into a sunbeam you hadn't realized you were freezing without.Â
Just an act, you reminded yourself fiercely, picking up a shark-faced monster figure--probably representing whatever video game character he mustâve been obsessed with in middle school.
"You knowâŚ" Your voice was softer than intended, almost drowned in the room's nostalgic silence. You traced the figure's jagged teeth, imagining a younger Donghyuck and all the happy memories the toy must hold.Â
"Seeing you downstairs...all attentive, pulling out chairs, refilling drinks..." You swallowed, the words feeling treacherous. "It made me wonder. What you'd actually be like... if you had a real girlfriend."
Silence. Thick and sudden.Â
Only the faint, rhythmic tick of an old Digimon clock on the wall.Â
You kept your gaze fixed on the shark's beady eyes, heat creeping up your neck.Â
"I know," you added quickly, forcing a brittle chuckle. "Silly, right? Forget I said that."
The old wooden floorboards groaned.
You didn't turn, but heard him approaching. You set the figure down with deliberate care, its plastic base clicking against the wood.Â
"Well," Donghyuck's voice came from much closer, directly behind you now. "I'd have impeccable taste. As you can imagine." That characteristic smugness in his tone made you snort. How silly of you to feel flustered and domestic around Donghyuck of all people.Â
This was just an act he put up, desperately trying to save face in front of his parents.
Still, your heart skipped a beat when you felt the warmth of him at your back.
"So my girlfriend," he continued, his voice dropping to a murmur that vibrated through the scant inches between you. "She'd be... breathtaking." The air grew taut as he paused. "So breathtaking, in fact..."
His hands settled on your hips, and you turned around in a startle.Â
"...that it would be impossible," he finished, his gaze locking onto yours, "to stop myself from doing this."
The transformation was jarring. Gone was the exaggerated, performative Donghyuck from the office, the flamboyant mama's boy from dinner. The man looking down at you now held an intensity youâd never seen.Â
His usual spark of mischief was still there, but submerged beneath a startling depth of focus. His eyes, usually dancing with laughter, were dark and serious, searching yours with an unnerving directness.Â
They held no trace of the act, only a raw, questioning honesty that made your heart slam against your ribs.Â
The careful distance youâd maintained all evening, the reminder that this was fake... It all crumbled under that gaze.
"DonghyuckâŚ" Your whisper was barely audible, a plea and a question tangled together.
His gaze flickered down to your lips, then back up, holding yours captive. The playful smirk was absent. Instead, there was a quiet determination, an unspoken may I? hanging in the charged air.Â
Slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he leaned in. The scent of his parentsâ home cooking still clung faintly to his shirt, mixed with his own familiar, warm cologne.Â
The distance between you dissolved, measured now in heartbeats, in the shared warmth of breath. And his lips met yours.Â
The first brush of his lips was tentative, a question whispered against your mouth. Soft. Testing.Â
A spark ignited low in your belly, a jolt of electricity that contradicted every rational thought screaming this is pretend, this is dangerous, this is Donghyuck.Â
Your hands, still hovering uncertainly in the air, instinctively found the fabric of his shirt, fisting the fabric as if anchoring yourself against a sudden, dizzying current.
He responded instantly. A low hum vibrated in his chest, resonating against yours as the tentative pressure deepened. The kiss transformed from a question to an answer, slow and deliberate, tasting faintly of the sweet tea his mother had served after dinner.Â
The surprising softness of his lips, the focused intensity replacing his usual playful demeanor. Your carefully constructed walls, already weakened by the evening's deceptive warmth, began to crumble like ancient plaster.
One of his hands slid from your hip, tracing the curve of your spine, pulling you flush against him. The other tangled gently in the hair at your nape, tilting your head for a better angle.Â
The initial softness slowly dissolved into something hotter, hungrier. The mutual attraction youâd both meticulously ignored surged to the surface with volcanic force. It wasn't just the thrill of deception anymore; it was pure, undeniable want.
A small, involuntary sound escaped youâa gasp swallowed immediately by his mouth.Â
It was the spark to tinder. Donghyuckâs breath hitched, his grip tightening. The kiss turned consuming, a dizzying exchange of breath and building heat.Â
He stepped forward, guiding you backwards until the edge of the old wooden dresser pressed firmly against your lower back. The impact dislodged a small, plastic figure; it clattered onto the dresser top, forgotten.
He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, his forehead resting against yours, breath ragged. His eyes, dark and blown wide with desire, searched yours, seeking permission, confirmation.Â
Seeing no resistance, only mirrored hunger, he dove back in. This time, it was fierce. Possessive. His tongue swept against yours, a bold claim that sent shivers cascading down your spine.
Rational thought evaporated. Your fingers, still tangled in his shirt, slid upwards, threading fiercely into the soft, dark strands of his hair. You pulled, not gently, a silent demand for more, closer, now.Â
A ragged groan tore from Donghyuckâs throat, the sound vibrating against your lips, primal and thrilling.Â
His hands moved decisively. The one at your back slid lower, fingers splaying possessively over the curve of your hip. The other slid down the outside of your thigh, before gripping firmly just below your ass.Â
In one smooth, powerful motion, he lifted. Your feet left the creaking floorboards as he hoisted you onto the edge of the dusty dresser, the forgotten figurines rattling in protest.Â
Now eye-level, the kiss deepened impossibly further. His body slotted perfectly between your thighs, pressing you firmly against the solid wood, the heat of him enveloping you.
Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back, pulling him impossibly closer.Â
The dresser groaned under the sudden shift in weight. One of his hands remained anchored on your thigh, fingers digging in with delicious pressure, while the other cradled the back of your head, holding you at the mercy of his searing kisses.Â
It was messy, desperate, fueled by weeks of suppressed glances in the office, the confusing intimacy of the charade downstairs, and the raw, startling honesty that had flickered in his eyes moments before.
Donghyuckâs mouth was a brand on yours, his kisses growing messier, more insistent. His hands roamed your body with a desperate certainty, mapping the curve of your waist, the swell of your hip, the sensitive skin of your inner thigh where his thumb drew slow circles.Â
The rough fabric of his jeans pressed against the thin barrier of your skirt, a delicious friction that made you ache.
You arched into him, pleading, your own hands scrambling under the hem of his t-shirt to find the hot, smooth skin of his back. He shuddered under your touch, a low groan vibrating against your lips.
"Y/N," he breathed, his voice a ragged, broken thing as he tore his mouth from yours to trail desperate, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. "We... we should... fuck-" The last word was a gasp against your pulse point, more a statement of fact than a coherent thought.
"Should we?" you managed to pant, your head falling back to give him better access. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. "Seems like a fantastic ideaâŚ"
He chuckled, the sound dark and strained against your skin. "We work together. This is... this is a bad idea." His words were a stark contrast to his actions, as his hands slid under your thighs, hiking your skirt up around your hips. The cool air hitting your heated skin made you gasp.
"Since when do you care about work ethics, Lee Donghyuck?" you challenged, your voice husky. You rocked your hips against his, a deliberate, grinding motion that made him curse sharply, his grip on your thighs tightening to the point of bruising. "The man who bribes me with covered shifts to be his fake girlfriend is suddenly worried about HR?"
He lifted his head, his eyes blazing with a mix of desire and frustration. His hair was a mess from your fingers, his lips swollen and glistening. He looked utterly wrecked, and the sight sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach.
"Itâs different,"Â he insisted, though his resolve was clearly crumbling. His hips gave an involuntary jerk against yours, betraying him completely.
"How?" you whispered, leaning forward until your lips were almost touching his again. You could feel the frantic hammering of his heart against your chest. "Because it's real now?"
That seemed to shatter the last of his resistance. A low growl rumbled in his chest. "Donât say that," he muttered, before crashing his lips back onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and raw hunger.
This time, there was no hesitation. His hands left your thighs, fumbling desperately with the button of his jeans. The sound of the zipper going down was obscenely loud in the quiet room. You took the opportunity to shrug off your sweater and top, letting them fall to the dusty floor beside his abandoned basketball trophy.
The sight of you in just your skirt and bra seemed to undo him completely. His eyes darkened, roaming over your body with a possessiveness that made your skin prickle with anticipation.
"You have no idea," he breathed, shucking his jeans and boxers down his thighs in one hurried motion. "No idea how long I've waited for this."
He stepped back into the space between your legs, his erection hot against your inner thigh. The feel of him, so hard and wanting, made you whimper. You reached for him, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking him once, twice. He threw his head back, a string of curses falling from his lips.
"Please, Donghyuck," you pleaded, your own control fraying. "Stop thinking. Just fuck me. Please."
That was all it took. With a final, guttural sound, he hooked his hands under your knees, pushing them apart and pulling you to the very edge of the dresser. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours, asking one last, silent question.
You answered by lifting your hips, taking him in with a single, sharp, breathtaking thrust.
A sharp cry tore through the room. For a moment, he was still, buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you breathing raggedly. The feeling of him, so full and perfect, was almost too much to bear.
"Fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Y/N..."
Then he began to move. Slowly at first, a deep, dragging rhythm that made you see stars.Â
Each thrust was a revelation, erasing every boundary, every wall you ever built until there was nothing left but the two of you, the creak of the old dresser, and the sound of skin meeting skin.
Donghyuckâs grip on your knees tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he folded you even more deeply over himself, changing the angle. A broken, keening cry was ripped from your lips as he hit a spot inside you that made white-hot pleasure crackle behind your eyelids.
"Right there?" he panted, his voice ragged and thick with effort. A sliver of his usual smugness managed to bleed through the haze of desire. "That's the spot, isn't it? Fuck, the way you justâ" His sentence dissolved into a groan as you clenched around him, your nails digging into the sweat-slicked skin of his back.
"Don'tâdon't talk,"Â you gasped, though the breathless command was undercut by the way you arched into him, begging for more.
He chuckled, a dark, strained sound. "Why? Am I... distracting you from your... very important... girlfriend duties?" He punctuated each broken phrase with a deep, rolling thrust that stole the air from your lungs.Â
His ability to be infuriatingly clever even now should have been maddening. But instead, it was unbearably hot. For once.
"You're... impossible,"Â you moaned, your head lolling back. The dresser rattled dangerously with every movement, a percussive accompaniment to your pounding hearts.
"You love it,"Â he breathed against your neck, his lips finding your pulse point and sucking hard. The claim sent a fresh jolt through you. His hands slid from your knees, wrapping firmly under your thighs to hold you open, to take him even deeper. The new position was impossibly intimate, leaving you utterly exposed and completely at his mercy.
"Donghyuckâ"Â You whispered his name like the only coherent thought left in your mind.
"I know, I know," he whined, his own control clearly fraying at the edges. His thrusts became less measured, more frantic. "It's soâfuckâit's too much, isn't it? You feel too good. I can'tâ"
He was babbling, a mix of filth and genuine praise. It was the most honest you had ever heard him.
Your own climax was building, a tidal wave gathering force at the base of your spine. You could feel his trembling, the way his rhythm began to stutter, the ragged gasps that signaled his own end was near.
"Look at me," he demanded, his voice a raw scrape. "Y/N, please. Look at me."
You forced your eyes open, meeting his dark, desperate gaze. The intensity there, the vulnerability stripped bare alongside the hunger, was your undoing.
"I'mâ"Â you started, but the warning was cut short.
It crashed over you without mercy, a seismic release that tore a silent scream from your throat. Your body seized around him, waves of pure, blinding ecstasy washing through every nerve ending. You saw his eyes widen, felt his hips stutter and lose their rhythm completely as your climax triggered his own.
"ShitâY/Nâ"Â His voice broke as he buried himself to the hilt, his body bowing over yours as he came with a shuddering whine. His arms, still wrapped tightly around your thighs, held you flush against him as he pulsed deep inside you, his entire frame trembling with the force of his release.
The tremors subsided slowly, leaving behind a heavy, breathless silence broken only by the ragged sound of your panting.Â
The air in the room, once thick with nostalgia, was now charged with the scent of sex and sweat, a stark contrast to the innocent memories held within these four walls.
Donghyuckâs forehead remained pressed against yours, his body weight slumped over you, supported by his arms braced on the dresser.Â
You were still intimately connected, his softening length inside you, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, and the wood cooling the heat of your skin.
For a long moment, neither of you moved or spoke. The only sound was the frantic pounding of two hearts slowing to a steadier, synchronized rhythm.
Then, a slow, incredulous chuckle rumbled in Donghyuckâs chest, vibrating through yours. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. They were still dark, but the intense hunger had been replaced by a dazed, wondrous amusement. His hair was a beautiful mess, and his lips were kiss-swollen and red.
âWell,â he breathed, his voice hoarse. âThat⌠was not in the script.â
A breathy laugh escaped you, part relief, part sheer disbelief. âYou had a script for this?â
âFor the dinner. Not for⌠this,â he said, gesturing vaguely between your entangled bodies and the general disarray of the room. A plastic figure lay on its side near your elbow. âMy momâs gonna kill me if we broke anything. This is a âcurated museum,â as I said.â
âItâs a room, Donghyuck,â you murmured, your own voice scratchy. You unwound your legs from his waist, a wave of self-consciousness finally breaking through the post-coital haze.Â
He gently eased out of you, his hands shifting to your hips to steady you as you slid off the edge of the dresser. Your legs felt like they could break at any time.
He kept his hands on you for a moment longer, his thumbs making absent, soothing patterns on your hips through the rumpled fabric of your skirt.Â
âSo,â he said, his tone shifting to something lighter, though his eyes remained serious. âThat whole âtaking it slowâ story we told my parentsâŚâ
âYeah,â you replied, bending to pick up your top and sweater from the floor, your face heating. âWe might have blown that narrative to smithereens.â
He grinned, that familiar, cocky smirk finally making a reappearance, though it seemed softer at the edges. âDetails, details. I think we sold the overall premise pretty well.â He pulled up his boxers and jeans. âBesides, that was⌠statistically⌠the best first kiss and subsequent⌠activities⌠in the history of fake dating. Probably.â
You pulled your sweater over your head, your hair static and messy. âYouâre keeping statistics now?â
âIâm a man of many talents,â he quipped, fastening his jeans.Â
He looked around the room, at the slightly askew posters and the disturbed dust on the dresser. A faint blush crept up his own neck. âOkay. So that really happened.â
The vulnerability in his tone made you look up. He wasnât looking at you; he was staring at his bed, the scene of his earlier dramatic declaration of thanks.Â
âIt did,â you said softly.
He finally turned to face you fully. The playful bravado was gone again, replaced by a raw, unnerving honesty. âY/N⌠IâŚÂ I donât really know what to say. âThank youâ feels weirdly transactional now, and âsorryâ feels like a lie...â He ran a hand through his hair. âThat was⌠the least fake thing Iâve ever done in my life. And Iâve faked a lot of productivity reports, as you know...â He ended that sentence with an awkward chuckle, to ease the tension, you supposed.
Still, the confession hung heavy in the air. It echoed the chaotic, wonderful, terrifying feeling in your own chest.
You took a step toward him. âIt didnât feel fake to me either,â you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. A slow, genuine smile, not a smirk, not a grin, but a real, unguarded smile, spread across his face. It was brighter than all the star stickers on his ceiling.
âYeah?â he asked, a hopeful, boyish note in his voice.
âYeah.â
He closed the small distance between you, his hands finding yours and lacing your fingers together. âSo,â he said, squeezing your fingers. âThis is awkward.â
You let out a real laugh this time, the tension finally breaking. âIncredibly.â
âMy parents are probably downstairs wondering if weâre redecorating with all the noise.â
âOh God, donât remind me.â
âCome on,â he laughed, tugging your hand gently toward the door. âWe should probably go face the music. Or at least dessert.â
You didnât move.Â
âDonghyuck. What happens on Monday? At the office?â
He paused, his expression turning thoughtful. He looked down at your joined hands, then back up at you, his eyes clear and focused.
âOn Monday,â he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, âI come by your desk. And I donât ask you to fake anything. I ask you for a real dinner. And maybe⌠we see if we can mess up my apartment instead of my childhood bedroom next time. Itâs less⌠nostalgic and way less dusty.â
A smile spread across your face. âThat sounds⌠suspiciously like a date, Lee Donghyuck.â
He winked, the gesture full of its usual mischief but now underpinned by something solid, something real. âThe realest. Now come on, baby,â he said, deliberately using the pet name youâd forbidden just hours ago, his voice dripping with playful challenge.
You rolled your eyes, but you were still smiling, and you let him lead you out of the room. âYouâre still doing my expense reports for a month.â
âWorth it,â he declared without hesitation, squeezing your hand again as you descended the stairs together, toward the warm light and the waiting dessert, and the terrifying, exhilarating prospect of something that was no longer an act at all.
pairing Ëŕ¨ŕ§â・ â° park sunghoon x f!reader ââ .⌠smut (mdni!), fluff, rom-com, angst, slowburn kinda, college!au, friends to lovers ft. yn's roommate!jake & sunghoon's roomate!jay wc ęŠâšâá°.á 24k
synopsis ŕ âşââ§ the universe has a funny way of working. some people find their fate in poetry, in the stars, or in the grand, sweeping moments of life. you? you find yours in the form of park sunghoonâa boy you keep running into in the most unfortunate ways possible. like how he threw a football straight into your face and broke your nose. or when he got way too drunk at a party and threw up all over your shoes. or that time he somehow managed to blow up an entire science experiment all over you. in other wordsâthe few accidental times the universe tries to tell you that park sunghoon is your fateâŚand the one time you finally listened (and maybe fate had less to do with a broken nose and more to do with the way he looks at you like youâre his favorite accident).
warnings ęŠď˝Ąâš ࣪ Ë sunghoon is DOWNBAD, clumsy & awkward as hell // he YEARNS & LONGS, a drama queen // alcohol consumption // mild cursing // hoon is also a self sabotager // jayhoon bromance is real // sunghoon has one sided mental beef against jake for sum reason LOL ËËË nsfw tags á°.á virgin!sunghoon x experienced!reader, lowkey sub/switch!sunghoon, unprotected sex (dont do it pls!!!), oral sex (f receiving), riding, fingering, squirting, dry humping, hoon has a praise kink for sure, breast play, handjob, hair pulling, dirty talk, masturbation (he does it while he munches whoops), roughish sex, creampie
°Ëâ´ .á addie ââ OK so i'd like to start off with saying last i checked this fic had 15k words...and then suddenly it has 24k... idk what happened honestly . but i ended up LOVING writing this sunghoon bc in my eyes he's a hot, clumsy dork <3 this is my first time ever writing smut so i am so so sorry if it sucks absolute booty hole bc it truly had me spinning in circles...i have so much respect for smut authors bc damn . anyways i hope u guys like, pls let me know what u think & also ty ronnie per usual for beta reading & encouraging me to explore out of my comfort zone heh. HOPE U ALL ENJOY :')
they say you never forget your first.
your first kiss. your first failing grade. your first crush. your first petâs name.
for park sunghoon? heâll never forget the first time he met you.
and honestly? he kind of wishes he could.
scratch thatâhe desperately wishes he could. then he wishes he could self-implode. then, he wishes he could rewind time and never agree to play catch with jay in the first place.
not to be dramatic or anything. but if you had been responsible for sending a football flying at full speed straight into someoneâs face, youâd probably want to self-implode too.
and thatâs exactly what happens.
itâs a quiet day. a peaceful one, almost. the kind of the day that feels soft around the edges, where nothingâs too bright, too loud, or too complicated. the one that almost makes sunghoon feel like simply a background character in the movie of his own life, which he doesnât entirely mind either.
sunghoonâs morning starts like most of his mornings doâhalf productive, half running on pure autopilot. he wakes up to his alarm on time (a small miracle), beats jay to their shared bathroom before he can claim it for his thirty minute long skincare routine (a big miracle), and grabs a granola bar from the kitchen cabinet. said cabinet, by the way, is home to an endlessly growing collection of half-eaten snacksâchips that have gone soft, instant ramen cups with weird flavors no one remembers buying, and a mystery jar of peanut butter thatâs been there since move in day.
sunghoon pays half attention in his 9AM statistics lecture (which is about as much as anyone can ask from him on a monday morning), and manages to grab his favorite sandwich from the cafĂŠ before they run out for the day. the cafĂŠ lady even remembers his name this time (although she calls him âsungoonâ, which he lets slide because she gives him extra pickles).
itâs all wonderfully, boringly normal.
and for sunghoon, thatâs saying something.
because his life isnât exactly filled with chaosâheâs not that guy. but he does have a habit of stumbling into moments that feel like they were written by a sitcom writer and heâs the character created solely for the purpose of comedic relief.
like the time he ran into and tripped over the campus mascot in front of an entire basketball game. or the time he waved back at someone who wasnât waving at him and then had to commit to pretending he actually did know them. or the time he tried to flirt with a girl at a bookstore and accidentally knocked over an entire table of self-help books on himself.
you get the idea.
still, today feels normal. stable, predictable.
until jay shows up.
jay appears in sunghoonâs peripheral vision exactly how sunghoon predicted he wouldâhair sticking up in three different directions, wearing an oversized hoodie that may or may not be his sleep shirt, a cup of iced coffee in one hand even though itâs four in the afternoon and, for some reason, a football in the other.
sunghoon blinks up at him from his table in the campus courtyard. thereâs an empty sandwich container on one side of him, a half-finished math sheet on the other, and that quiet kind of peace that only comes when youâre okay with the world not doing anything particularly interesting.
jay park ruins that peace immediately.
âwhatâs that for?â sunghoon asks, nodding at the football in jayâs right hand.
jay shrugs, sipping his coffee before putting it down next to sunghoonâs empty sandwich container. âfound it on my way here. thought itâd be fun.â
fun.
sunghoon raises an eyebrow. thatâs a bold word coming from jayâjay park, a business major who considers waking up before noon an accomplishment and whose idea of cardio is sprinting into lecture late.
still, sunghoon doesnât judge. heâs learned his lesson about athletic optimism. the summer he was nine, he tried out for the neighborhood little league baseball team with nothing but poor hand-eye coordination and a dream. one swing, one very unlucky coach, and one black eye later, and sunghoon retired early from all things sports related.
which shouldâve been foreshadowing in itself.
sunghoonâs first mistake is catching the football when jay tosses it at him. his second is not immediately throwing it back and walking away.
because somehow, between the caffeine in jayâs bloodstream and sunghoonâs chronic inability to say no to stupid ideasâfive minutes later theyâre standing on opposite sides of the courtyard, tossing the football lazily back and forth.
and it becomes easy, repetitive. jayâs talking about something mid-throw, probably the new band heâs into or some conspiracy theory about the campus squirrels. but sunghoonâs not really listening, not really. heâs too focused on the rhythm. catch, step, throw. catch, step, throw. itâs almost meditative.
until it isnât.
because somewhere across the courtyard that smells like grass and cheap coffee, laughter suddenly carries through the airâa bright, unfamiliar kind of laugh that feels like home anyways and that makes sunghoonâs head instinctively turn.
and in that same half-second, jayâs voice calls out.
âyo, heads up!â
sunghoon turns back just in time to see the football not in his own hands anymore.
and itâs definitely not heading towards jay either.
itâs heading towards you.
and before he could do anything about itâthe ball collides with your face with an impact so loud that the entire school might as well have witnessed it.
âoh my god,â jay whispers.
âoh my god,â sunghoon repeats under his breath.
âoh my god,â youâre gasping, clutching your nose and stumbling back before you can catch yourself, your butt hitting the grass.
sunghoonâs stunned for a second, arms halfway raised, eyes flickering between you and jay and the football. he runs through a mental list of things that could maybe, possibly, reverse the entire past twenty minutes of the disaster that is his life (spoiler: there arenât any).
and then heâs moving before he even realizes it, jogging over with wide eyes and a growing pit of dread in his stomach.
âoh my godâare you okay? did iâshitâis your nose broken?â the words fall out of his mouth in one frantic breath as he crouches beside you.
you hand is still pressed against your face as you blink up at the figure above you, your vision disorientated.
and when your eyes finally focusâthe face that greets you is devastatingly pretty.
which would be fine under any other circumstance. except for the fact that this is the face of a man who literally just assaulted you via sports equipment.
and unfortunately for sunghoon, the face that greets him is just as devastatingly pretty.
which would also be fineâŚunder any other circumstance.
because sunghoonâs luck with girls isnât terribleâŚtechnically. heâs had his fair share of crushes that lasted two weeks but ended in radio silence. he knows how to flirt when he needs to, knows how to make a girl laugh, knows what kind of compliment lands without sounding weird. heâs even good at the little thingsâopening doors, letting the girl have the booth side of the table, texting back on time but not too soon, pretending to like matcha even though it tastes like grass to him.
the problem is never getting their attention. heâs grown up around enough of his momâs friends cooing at him during dinner partiesââyour son is so handsome!â âwhat did you eat during your pregnancy to get a face like that?ââ that heâs well aware heâs got at least one thing working in his favor. so no, getting attention isnât the issue.
itâs keeping it.
because sunghoon is the kind of guy who accidentally ghosts first. not on purpose, he just forgets. he gets too caught up in assignments, or chores, or reorganizing his t-shirt collection by color again (even though itâs really only three colors: black, white, and a slightly lighter black). heâs terrible at balancing the whole dating thing and college thing and not knocking over self-help book displays in public thing.
and now, apparently, not breaking someoneâs nose.
but right now, looking at youâbloodied nose, wide eyes, planted in wet grass and probably mildly concussedâsunghoon canât think about any of that.
because, somehow, even like this, maybe even especially like this, he thinks youâre the prettiest person heâs ever seen.
which is horrifying.
sunghoon wants to dig a hole right then and there and crawl inside. maybe build a small underground home, maybe live out the rest of his days as a mole person.
âiâiâm so sorry. i swear, it was an accidentâheâjay was supposed to catch itââ
thatâs when jay conveniently shows up right behind him, a hand lifting up in betrayal, âbro, you looked awayââ
âi was distractedââ
âby what?â
sunghoon freezes. his brain short-circuits, because the answer is, unfortunately, you.
he opens his mouth. freezes. clears his throat. tries again. âbyâŚaâŚbird?â
you finally speak up from your spot on the ground, your head going back and forth at the two bickering guys through your watery eyes, ââŚa bird.â
âyeah,â sunghoon says, shrugging like this is an everyday conversation. âit wasâŚreally big.â
thereâs a slight beat of silence where even jay looks like he feels pity for his best friend. then, you squint at him, tilting your head slightly.
âwaitââ you start, voice still a little nasally. âyou look familiar. have we met before?â
sunghoon stiffens. his entire life flashes before his eyes.
have you met before? god, please not the self-help book incident. or worseânot the person he accidentally waved to thinking it was someone he knew.
he feels his stomach drop. maybe itâs neither. maybe itâs both.
and maybe he should just crawl into the earth now and never come back up.
âthat would be park sunghoon,â a new voice cuts in.
you turn your head towards the sound, relief instantly washing over your face when you see the tall boy approachingâbaseball cap on backwards, plastic cup of boba in one hand, and a very mild look of concern on his face.
âjake.â
ây/n.â jakeâs eyes flick to the scene in front of him: you, still clutching your nose; sunghoon, crouched nearby with a look only a guilty perpetrator could possess; and jay, standing behind him and sipping his coffee like heâs getting free entertainment (and he is).
ââŚi leave you alone for two minutes,â jake starts flatly, âand youâve already managed to get injured by my friends.â
âaccidentally injured,â jay corrects pointedly and very much unhelpfully.
jake ignores him. âhe lives in our building, thatâs probably where youâve seen him.â he then gestures vaguely to both sunghoon and jay with the drink in his hand. âthey both do. down the hall from us.â
he reaches down and helps you to your feet in one smooth pull, steadying you by the elbow before turning to the boys. ây/n, meet sunghoon and jayâtwo of my closest friends since high school, unfortunately. and also unfortunately, our neighbors.â
then he glances back at the pair, who now stand side by side in an awkward pose of guilt and discomfort. âand sunghoon and jay, meet y/nâmy new roommate. remember? i told you guys she transferred here a few days ago. i was coming over to introduce you guys butâŚlooks like you beat me to it.â
sunghoon makes a noise. not a normal human noise. a noise that lands somewhere between a startled choke, squeak, and what he thinks a goose being lightly stepped on would sound like.Â
because noâhe absolutely does not remember jake telling him this. because jake definitely mentioned it, but probably in the middle of a league match when sunghoon was functioning at ten percent brain capacity, half-listening while trying not to die in-game for the fifteenth time:
ânew roommate, got it,â he had probably replied at the time, while actually registering none of it.
and now here you are. in front of him. because of course the universe would make you one of his closest friendâs roommate. of course the prettiest girl heâs ever accidentally assaulted with a football now lives ten doors down.
he hovers, like he wants to say something elseâmaybe something smooth so you think heâs charming, maybe an actual apology so you think heâs not an asshole with awful coordination. but his brain offers him nothing but static.
he opens his mouth. closes it. opens it again. nothing.
heâs spiraling. he wants to evaporate. he wants to scream. but instead of doing any of these things, sunghoon does what any rational, socially competent person would do.
he sticks out his hand. straight. stiff. right in front of you. doesnât say a word.
you blink. you glance down at it. then back up at him. you squint your eyes past the vision of your other hand still clutching your face, looking at him as if trying to puzzle something together.Â
still, with your free hand, you eventually reach forward and give his a small, polite shake. his palm is warm, a little clammy, and youâre pretty sure you can feel him holding his breath the entire time.Â
ânice to meet you, park sunghoon,â your voice small but with something else.Â
the way his full name rolls off your tongue is smooth, deliberate. just on the edge of playful, but thereâs something else beneath it. he canât tell if itâs sarcasm or sincerity. maybe both. maybe youâre the kind of person who could ruin him with a smile and then apologize while doing it.
either way, it sticks. because it shouldnât sound like that. like a challenge. like a secret heâs suddenly desperate to learn. and the worst part of it all? he likes it.
and for a second, everything else is tuned outâthe sound of the commotion around campus, the breeze rustling the leaves around him, even jayâs straw scraping against the remaining ice in his cupâall sunghoon can focus on is the faint curve of your lips when you say his name. it hits him somewhere low in his gut. strange and foreign and sweet. sweet in a way that could be addicting if sunghoon isnât careful.
and honestly, heâs not good with things that make him feel like this. because, sunghoon? sunghoon is far from careful. heâs clumsy in lifeâcanât keep his balance, canât hold his composure, canât even throw a football without committing mild assault.
and now he canât think straight either.
ââand jay,â you nod towards jay, who lifts his now empty coffee cup in a small wave, âbut i think i should probably go to the clinic or something.â
jake nudges you gently, which snaps sunghoon out of whatever trance he was sinking into, âyeah. letâs get you checked out before you lose your nose.â
and because sunghoon is sunghoon and definitely not a rational, socially competent personâthe best he could manage is a crooked, lopsided smile and a stiff little wave as you turn to go.
you start walking, jake talking quietly beside you, but before youâre too far away, you glance back over your shoulder. and itâs quick, half a second at mostâbut sunghoons catches it.
a faint smile. the faintest. and he canât tell if itâs teasing, curious, or dangerous. maybe all three.
either way, it stays with him and he freezes, watching you disappear around the corner, his heartbeat now annoyingly loud in his chest. and he doesnât know what to think of it. because, again, sunghoonâs luck with girls isnât terribleâŚtechnically. he just doesnât think heâs ever felt this before. but, to be fair, itâs not everyday you accidentally potentially break the nose of the prettiest-girl-youâve-seen-turned-neighbor before.
âthatâŚwas amazing.â jay breaks sunghoon out of his mental spiral, nudging sunghoonâs arm with his own elbow, smirking.
sunghoon doesnât answer. heâs too busy replaying every second in his headâthe way your hand felt, the way you said his name, the way you threw that half-smile over your shoulder.
and somehow, some way, sunghoonâs wonderfully boring day had accidentally become something else entirely.
and that was the first time park sunghoon sees you.
the second time he sees you, he almost forgets about the entire football fiasco, honestly.
not because itâs anything personal against you. god, no.
but because he remembers something his therapist once said. something about how, apparently, if a memory is painful enough, sometimes the best thing to do is justâŚrepress it. file it away. pretend it never happened altogether.
which, in hindsight, is probably, most definitely, not the best way to handle oneâs crippling emotions. especially not crippling emotions involving a girl who looks like the kind of person that keeps you up at night after only exchanging a solid ten (10) words.
but to be fair, sunghoonâs therapist is also a twenty-something year old business major who listens to âcharacter developmentâ podcasts every morning and calls it experience.
so yeah. his therapist is jay park.
which explains why the memory of meeting you now lives in the deepest and darkest corners of sunghoonâs mindâright between the mascot-tripping incident and the little league baseball trauma.
but againâsunghoon has the chronic inability to say no. especially to jay. and youâd think, after years of friendship, heâd know better.
he does not.
which is how he ends up hereâstanding in the middle of a frat house thatâs definitely seen better days, clutching a red solo cup filled with what jay insists is just ginger ale, and silently wondering how to sneak out without anyone noticing.
because parties were never really sunghoonâs thing.
not only because heâs a self-proclaimed introvert. but because they usually involve three things: 1) loud music that usually consists of mediocre 2000s pop songs all mashed up together by a frat brother whose side gig is dj-ing, 2) sticky floors from mysterious substances that he refuses to think about, and 3) some guy named ni-ki who, for reasons unknown to science, keeps losing his left shoe at every function and makes it everyone elseâs problem.
or all of the above. usually all of the above.
but now sunghoonâs too many sips deep into his maybe-not-ginger-ale mystery drink, with the floorboards vibrating underneath him, and the crowd of bodies around him moving in an off-beat rhythm to some one direction song.
he also thinks the room might be spinning, but heâs not sure if thatâs from the strobing lights flickering across the ceiling or because he accidentally downed half of whatever this drink actually is. he should probably stop. he should definitely stop.
but before he can even gather his thoughts to make any semi-rational decision a semi-drunk person could make, jay shows up and slaps him on the shoulder with the force of a man whoâs had one too many more than sunghoon has.
âdude,â jay shouts over the music, leaning in and nodding his head toward the other end of the room. âdonât look now, butââ
which is precisely the kind of sentence that makes sunghoon immediately look now.
and there you are.
youâre across the room, leaning casually against the wall, laughing at whatever jake just said beside you. your headâs tilted back, cup in hand, a strand of hair falling over your face, and sunghoon nearly forgets to breathe.
and youâre wearing exactly whatâs going to keep him up tonight. and so, of course, he doesnât know what to do about it.Â
sunghoonâs pretty sure the air conditioning in this place stopped working about an hour ago, but the room suddenly feels suffocating, sweat prickling at the back of his neck and the crowd blurs into a backdrop, the music fading to a distance. all he can see is the curve of your mouth when you laughâfully, invitingly, the kind that pulls a low heat to his gutâand the way your fingers twist a loose strand of hair absentmindedly, completely unaware of how it draws him in.
itâs not fair. youâre supposed to be a one-time occurrence. the one-time girl he accidentally maimed with a football and might awkwardly bump into while checking mail or when he comes over to visit jakeânot someone who looks like she belongs in every dream heâs going to have for the next six months.
and sunghoon hasnât even had a real first kiss, technicallyâunless you count that tragedy of spin-the-bottle in the tenth grade where he accidentally bit a girlâs lip and left her mortified and bloodyâbut all of the sudden, his mind floods with foreign, forbidden thoughts he really shouldnât entertain. thoughts of closing the distance, backing you against that wall, his hands on your waist, how your lips would part under his, the faint taste of whatever youâre drinking mixing with his, your laughter turning into something heavier, needier. the way your body might arch into him, the soft gasps youâd make if his mouth trailed lowerâgod, itâs wrong, itâs too much, and sunghoon tries his hardest to veer his thoughts elsewhere.Â
but because sunghoon is everything except subtle, jay follows his line of sight and smirks immediately.
âoh god,â jay warns, but the intrigued look on his face says otherwise. âyouâre thinking about going over there, arenât you?â
sunghoon freezes before subtly rolling his eyes, running a hand through his hair, âi justâi should apologize. right? like, properly. you know, be mature about it.â
jay gives a look despite the a playful tone in his slurred voice, âiâm just saying. she might walk away with a new broken bone if you do.â
sunghoon exhales, straightens up, takes a gulp of his drink and coughs from the burnâyeah, definitely not ginger ale. âstatistically, lightning canât strike twice.â
jay blinks. âhow the hell are you quoting statistics while drunk?â
âbecause iâm not,â sunghoon says pointedly, slapping his own cheek once as if thatâll magically sober him up. and he thinks heâs at leastâŚfifty percent sober. hopefully. âsee? totally fine.â
he doesnât stick around to hear whatever jayâs response isâbecause the second he notices jake disappearing into the kitchen, heâs already weaving through the crowd, heart pounding, brain screaming at him to turn around, and feet doing exactly the opposite.
you notice him before he even reaches you. thereâs a flicker of surprise on your face, but it fades just as quicklyâshifting into something that looks like amusement. like you were expecting this. like youâd been waiting for him to show up eventually.
âthe park sunghoon,â you say once heâs close enough to hear you over the music. and when he is, the space between you feels heavyâmaybe itâs from the heat of the room, maybe from the scent of alcohol and sweat. maybe from something else entirely. âi didnât take you as a party person.â
sunghoon freezes mid-step.
because he thought he knew what he was going to say to you once he got here. maybe something clever, maybe something smooth. but your toneâthe teasing ease of it, the way his name sounds in your mouthâit throws him off completely.
his fingers tighten around his cup and he takes another sip, pretending to look casual and not because he suddenly has no idea what to do with his hands. then he lets out a laughânervous, stupid, a little too loud.
âiâm usually not,â he manages, trying to sound smooth as he leans a shoulder against the wall beside you. âbut jay can be persuasive.â
a small smirk plays at the corner of your lips. âmmm. and the drink?â
sunghoon follows your gaze down to the red solo cup in his hand.
âjay told me it was ginger ale.â
you donât say anything for a second. then, you let out another hum, reaching out before he can react and taking the cup straight from his hands.
you take a slow sip, your eyes trained on his own over the rim of his cup. itâs deliberate. itâs long. itâs dangerous. and he feels every. second. of it.
you lower the cup, swallow, then make a face. âyeah. definitely not ginger ale.â
sunghoon laughs, sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. âyeah, figures.â
a teasing smile tugs at your lips, âdo you do everything jay tells you to?â
his eyes widen immediately. âwhat? no! noâno, definitely not.â
âuh huh,â you glance past him to where jayâs pretending not to watch the two of you from across the room. very badly. âdid he tell you to come over here?â
sunghoon turns, spots jayâs unsubtle wave, and groans. âno, actually. i came over all on my own, iâll have you know.â
âoh yeah?â you tilt your head, stepping just a little closerâclose enough for him to catch the faint citrus of your perfume. âand whyâs that, sunghoon?â
he opens his mouth, ready with something about apologizing again, but the words stall.
because here you are. up close. and youâre a little overwhelmingâeyes steady, posture loose, smile daring. he thinks he can feel his pulse in his ears.
âbecauseâŚuhââ sunghoon stops, clears his throat, then smirks, trying to look steadier than his heart feels. âi figured if iâm gonna cause another accident tonight, i should probably make sure itâs worth it.â
you laugh, and he swears itâs louder than the music, âsmooth recovery.â
âiâm a fast learner.â
âfrom jay?â
he grins. âdefinitely not.â
and the way you smile at thatâthe slow, curious curve of itâmakes him realize heâs in trouble. the kind of trouble he doesnât exactly want to walk away from.
thereâs a beat where neither of you say anything. the music continues to thump all around him, the lights flash across your face in a dizzy rhythm that makes sunghoonâs stomach flip, and youâre standing close enough now that he can smell the faint scent of your citrus perfume and feel the heat from your arm whenever you shift slightly closer to hear him over the music.
and god, itâs suddenly very, very hard to think straight again.
he clears his throat. âanyway. i, uhâi wanted to apologize too. properly, you know. for your nose. for ruining your faceâi mean, not that your face is ruined! itâs a great face. a perfect face. or, maybe not perfect-perfect, but yâknow, structurally soundââ
sunghoon stops. he thinks heâs never hated himself, alcohol, and maybe a little bit of jay more than he does in this moment.
you stare at him for a long second, lips pressed together like youâre biting back a laugh. then, slowly, the teasing smirk on your face softens into something warmer, something he doesnât quite know what to do with.
âsunghoon,â you say, his name coming out softer this time. âhow about we just start over?â
the noise of the party tunes out again. itâs like the world narrowed down to just you, him, and the faint sound of âhas anyone seen my left shoe?â somewhere in the background.
âyeah,â sunghoon nods a little, nervous and hopeful all at once, his mouth twitching into an awkward smile. âyeah, iâd really like that.â
and then the conversation lulls into something easy after that. something comfortable. he manages to land a joke that makes you laugh, he learns your major, how you ended up as jakeâs roommateâwhich spirals into a story about being cousins with his last roommate, lee heeseung, who graduated last semester and now moved onto bigger and better things in the adult world. and by bigger and better, we mean he graduated with a biology degree but now works for a music label and spends all his time obsessing over his co-worker-turned-girlfriend.
and everything feels good. itâs casual. itâs normal.
sunghoon feels like heâs floatingâlike heâs actually managing to exist around you without saying anything stupid about bones or noses or facial structures.
everything is just fine.
until it suddenly isnât.
because when you turn away to refill your cup, sunghoon straightens up from the wall and blinks. once, twice. the lights all smear together in red and gold and blue. the floor tilts, or maybe he does. either way, his vision sways, just a little, and he can feel his pulse pounding in his head.
and thatâs when it hits him.Â
oh. oh no.
sunghoon is drunk.
the realization hits him at the same moment you turn back towards him.
your hair catches the light as you move, and your lips partâhe can see you saying something, your mouth forming the beginning of a smileâbut all sunghoon can focus on is trying his very best to look composed. his fingers dig into the side of the table next to him, the room ripples, the floor hums under his feet.
he blinks hard. again. and again, like thatâs somehow going to stop the slow spin thatâs started in his vision. it doesnât. his heartbeat trips over itself. thereâs too much heat in the room, too much sound pressing at the back of his skull, too much you in front of him.
âwould you want toâi donât know, maybe one dayââ
sunghoon doesnât hear the rest of your sentence. because suddenly his entire body stiffens. the nausea rises sharp and fast, his breath catches, and his face drops. and you barely have a second to register his expression before heâs leaning forward whenâ
it happens.
the end to park sunghoonâs dignity.
the music doesnât stop. the lights donât even flicker. but for sunghoon, the world falls completely silent as he realizes, in a slow motion way that only seem to exist in horror movies, that heâs just thrown up all over your shoes.
you stare down at your shoes, blinking.
sunghoon stares down at your shoes, horrified.
the silence between you stretches, thick and terrible. somewhere in the background, one direction is still playing, jay is shaking his head in a kind of not-surprised disappointment, and someone trips over a single, abandoned left shoe.
âoh my god,â sunghoon whispers, voice small and hoarse as he stares at the pile of him now covering your shoes. âoh my god.â
he then looks up at you, all glassy-eyed and pale, half-drunk but one hundred percent mortified, âi am so sorryâi swear, i didnâtâyour shoesââ
you look down at your shoes again, then back at him, and then close your eyes slowly, not saying anything.
ââi promise iâm not like this normally,â he blurts out, words slurring together. âiâoh my god, iâm so sorryââ
sunghoon sways slightly where he stands, still holding the table for balance, his face stuck in the kind of panic that belongs to someone whoâs guilty.
jake appears just in time, two cups in hand, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees the scene in front of him.
ââŚwhat the hell,â jake says flatly, eyes darting between you, your shoes, and the man responsible.
and sunghoon canât even look up. his hand is still clamped over his mouth, palm slightly damp, stomach twisting, throat burning, and mind praying that everyone else around them is drunk enough to ignore the situation.
he risks a glance. immediate regret.
your shoes, the mess, the smell, the whole awful, lingering reality of what heâs done. the sight alone is enough to make sunghoon sway again. his brain, fuzzy and slow, still tries to find the words to form an apology thatâs at least fifty percent not pathetic.
you then inhale. âyeah,â you say finally, your voice weirdly calm for someone whose shoes had just been absolutely ruined. âiâŚi think iâm just gonna go home.â
your voice is quiet, barely above the music, but somehow, it cuts through everything. the pounding bass. the off key singing of the crowd. the ringing in sunghoonâs ears. itâs all he can hear.
jake sighs, glancing between the two of you. âyeah. yeah, thatâs probably smart. letâs go.â
he gives sunghoon a pitying lookâthe kind you give a guy when youâre stuck in between both sides of a battleâbefore turning to guide you toward the door.
sunghoon still doesnât move. he just stands there, stuck, heartbeat hammering behind his ribs, in his head, everywhere. his mouth opens like he might say somethingâapologize again, call out your name, beg the floor to swallow him whole. but nothing comes out.
so he just watches. watches the back of your head disappear into the crowd. watches jakeâs hand settle lightly on your shoulder. watches the door close behind you.
he exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face when jay appears beside him. heâs holding a now half-empty cup, the look on his face somewhere between pity and amusement.
ââŚi told you you were drunk.â
sunghoon pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut, âjay.â
âyeah?â
âshut up.â
jay doesnât. instead, he hums, âand i told you not to come over.â
sunghoon thunks his head against the wall behind him, âjay.â
âyeah?â
âplease stop talking.â
and that was the second time park sunghoon sees you.
the next and third time sunghoon sees you, he knows itâs coming.
sunghoon knew he was going to see you because heâs an observant guy. yes, he sits in the back of class and only speaks when spoken to, but he notices the little things.
like how the guy two seats to his left keeps a family-sized bag of hot cheetos inside his backpack and thinks no one notices. or how the girl in the third row plays papaâs freezeria on her laptop every single lecture, unbothered by the fact that the professor is talking about reaction mechanisms right in front of her.
and how the new girlâthe pretty one who showed up one random day with the shiny hair and the voice that always knows the right answersâalways gets there five minutes early and sits in the first row. aka, you.
sunghoon has always noticed you.
so yeah, he knew he was going to see you today. chemistry lab is predictable like that. but he didnât think it was going to be like thisâyou coming in late, hair slightly frazzled but still somehow shiny, breath just a little uneven from probably speed walking across campus, cheeks warm with the rush of someone running late, eyes scanning the room for an open seat.
because you are never late. but the universe has a weird sense of humor sometimes. and today, it decided to silence your morning alarm all on its own (you smacked it in your sleep and gave yourself twenty-too-many-minutes of snooze time), cut off your shower halfway through rinsing out your conditioner, and let the vending machine eat your last dollar without giving you your granola bar.
so the sight of you hesitating in the doorway makes the entire energy of the room shift just a little for sunghoon. he watches you mumble a quiet apology to your professor before your eyes quickly scan the room for an empty seat. and then his heart stalls for one horrifying second.
because he swears he can hear the universe laughing. laughing at the fact that the only seat available in the entire roomâŚjust so happens to be the one next to park sunghoon.
sunghoon, who immediately pretends to be incredibly invested in the periodic table projected on the side wall.
sunghoon, who is currently praying that someone will miraculously volunteer as tribute and take the empty chair beside him out of nowhere. no one does.
sunghoon, who tries his very best to quietly will himself invisible (he has never succeeded at this before. he does not succeed now).
your eyes land on the seat. then on him. and your expression does this tiny thingâsomething between oh! and ohâŚand something else that sunghoon cannot, and probably should not, interpret for the sake of his emotional stability.
then, with a small flash of hesitation and what seems like acceptance, you make your way over.
âheyâŚsunghoon,â you say, voice soft but steady as you pull out the chair.
sunghoon turns his head just slightly, offering you a nervous half smile that feels about three seconds away from collapsing into a full panic.
âhey,â he manages, voice a little too quiet, a little too soft. you slide into the seat, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and the faint citrus scent of you hits him like dĂŠjĂ vu and disaster rolled into one. and because it completely throws him off, he doesnât even realize what he says next until the words are already out, âso how was your weekend?â
and then he freezes.
so do you. you are mid-bag-unzip. there is a soft still in the air as his words hang in between you two. how was your weekend.
the weekend where he vomited all over you.
sunghoon looks away and mentally slams his head into the table. maybe you didnât hear him. or maybe heâs hallucinating and didnât actually say that. or maybe he did actually say that and youâll pretend it didnât happen out of pity for him.
none of that happens.
because, eventually, you turn to him fully, a small smile on your face as you casually shrug, âoh, it was good!â
sunghoon stops for a second. he stares. okay. okay, good. maybe weâre safe. maybe this is forgiveness, maybe this is grace.
ââuntil i had to throw away my favorite pair of shoes.â
and there. it. is.
sunghoon thinks he dies. just a little. or a lot, internally. his eyes shut, his fingers gripping the pen in his hand so hard he swears the plastic actually creaks.
âyeah, um. thatâsâŚfair,â he says back, but it comes out more like a croak. âlisten, iâm reallyââ
âitâs really okay, sunghoon,â your voice interrupts as you tap your pen on the notebook, the tone light and casual and teasingânot at all the sound of someone who recently got assaulted by the same guy twice in the past week. âi mean, i think you just really owe me now, though.â
sunghoonâs eyes snap open. he glances over to look you andâ
you donât look mad. you donât sound mad. if anything, you lookâŚamused, really. and the tilt in your voice just now sounded almost fond, even. which is objectively worse for sunghoonâs emotional well-being.
sunghoon tries to speak. tries to be cool, collected, charming, normal. tries to ignore the fact that the pretty new girl with shiny hair that usually sits five rows ahead of him is currently still talking to him after he messed up with her twice.
âiâyeahâyes. absolutely. i will. i promiseââ
and sunghoon literally does not know what heâs promising, nor does his mind give him the chance to find the words before the professorâs voice cuts through the room, âalright everyone. todayâs experiment will be done in pairs. your partner will be the person youâre currently sharing a lab bench with.â
thereâs a beat of silence.
because, again, the universe has a very weird sense of humor.
then, a soft inhale. and sunghoon isnât even entirely sure if it came from him or from you. could be both.
ââŚso,â you start, turning slightly toward him just enough that your shoulder brushes his, âlab partners?â
and approximately within the next two seconds, park sunghoon goes through all five stages of grief:
denial â no. surely not. she means across the lab bench. diagonally. someone else. fate would never be this cruel to me.
anger â this is jayâs fault. itâs always jayâs fault. why did he convince me to go to that party. why does alcohol exist. this is all jayâs fault.
bargaining â if the universe lets me get through this without causing any physical harm, i will donate to charity. i will recycle properly. i will stop ignoring momâs text messages.Â
depression â i am going to die. right here. in a room that smells faintly of citrus (you), acetone (lab), and sweat (me).
acceptance â okay. okay. we got this. we persevere.
sunghoon swallows. clears his throat, once, then twice. but his voice still cracks like a thirteen year old boy when he turns to you, âlab partners.â
you give a small smile. itâs not mocking, itâs not pitying. justâŚwarm. like you know exactly how nervous he is. like you know how sorry he is. like you arenât holding the past two disasters against him at all. and sunghoon will take it. heâll take whatever he can get.
you both stand and begin gathering equipment from the front benchâbeakers, pipettes, safety goggles that look like they were designed by someone who has never seen a human face in their entire life.
so when sunghoon returns to the table and tries to put them on, itâs all a tragic sceneâthe strap catches, the goggles twist, his hair gets stuck. and through it all, you watch with a smile playing at your lips, but you donât laugh. instead, you step closer, simply tilting your head.
âhere,â you murmur, your voice gentle in a way that makes something inside sunghoon want to claw at his own skin. your hands lift, slow and careful, fingers sliding lightly into his hair as you adjust the straps behind his head.
âbend down a bit,â you say, struggling to reach his height, and sunghoon does what heâs told. you finish adjusting the goggles, smoothing down a strand of hair near his temple before your fingers linger for a brief second. the moment is light. short. harmless. but still long enough for sunghoon.
âthanks,â he says in a voice that isnât really a voice. itâs low and careful, like if he speaks too loud the moment will shatter.
because youâre still close. close enough that he can feel your own warmth. close enough that if he tilted his head forward just a fraction, his lips would be right near your own. and he is trying so hard not to focus on that. he miserably fails.
all he can focus on is your breathingâsoft and a little uneven, like youâre not totally unaffected either, which would be insane, because this is you and this is him and the universe should not allow him to have this much hope. that would be cruel.
but then your eyes flick up to meet his, and the world gets quiet for a second, like someone hit pause on everything except the two of you.
sunghoon swallows hard. his eyes dart elsewhere, anywhere, but then it hits him.
it hits him abruptly and mortifyingly, with the force of a preteen revelation:
thereâs the subtle sheen of sweat tracing the line of your collarbone, where the labâs humid heat has your skin glistening just enough to draw his eye to the hollow of your throat, where youâre wearing the tiniest necklace he has ever seen in his life.
and somehow that is the most scandalous thing he has ever encountered.
because it sits there, tiny and delicate and softâand he thinks back to the way you spoke to him at the party. the way your eyes didnât back down from his, the way his name sounded from your mouth the first time he met you. like you knew exactly what you were doing.Â
you are everything but delicate. and something about that contrast, the softness laced with boldness, the gentle curve edged with something sharpâmakes something in sunghoon go frighteningly, beautifully still. because sunghoon realizes he want more.
and not just in that casual, lab-partner-who-lives-ten-doors-down-and-occasionally-asks-to-borrow-sugar way. but in the remember-your-favorite-snack-and-stock-the-pantry-with-it, memorize-your-handwriting, learn-your-schedule-by-heart, hold-your-face-in-my-hands-and-finally-know-what-you-taste-like kind of way. the kind where heâd trace the line of your jaw just to feel your pulse quicken under his touch, where late-night texts turn into confessions whispered into the dark, where the world narrows to just the heat of your breath mingling with his, close enough that one right move could unravel everything else.
park sunghoon is 22 years old but his brain reacts to this realization like he is eleven, standing at the edge of the community pool and realizing that girls have collarbones and the world will never, ever be the same. his ears go hot. his heart beats faster. he looks away.
âno problem,â you clear your throat, stepping back, smoothing down your skirt with your palms. your voice is light again, controlled. but thereâs a little curve at the corner of your mouthâlike you know.
and somehow, everything after that falls into a quiet, simple, routine. because, in theory, the experiment is simple. measure, mix, heat, observe. nothing that a normal college student with half a functioning brain shouldnât be able to handle.
which is precisely the issue. because the second sunghoon thinks heâs in the clear, the second sunghoon thinks he can maybe, possibly, start a normal conversation with you, maybe even pretend like the past two incidents never even happenedâ
you lean slightly over the lab bench, shifting slightly when the edge of your sweater brushes against his wrist. and thatâs all it takes.
sunghoon forgets everything he just told himself.
âokay,â you tap your fingers playfully against the table. âwe just need ten millimeters of solution A.â
âright,â sunghoon says, nodding immediately.
sunghoon says this with confidence.
sunghoon does not know what solution A is.
his hands are still steady though, surprisingly. he reaches for a beaker, a dropper, a labeled bottle.
âcareful,â you say softly, fingers brushing his wrist as you help guide the pipette from one bottle to the other. sunghoon tries to ignore it. he really, really tries. he then looks at you, and youâre already looking at him.
âyouâre really focused,â you tease with a small smirk, an eyebrow lifting.
âyeah,â he says without thinking. but heâs focused on you. not the beaker. not the measurement. and most definitely not the very important instruction that says pour ten millimeters and not thirty.
so when he poursâitâs too much. way too much. thereâs a hiss, a bubble, a foaming roar before sunghoon could stop it even if he wanted to.
âwaitâno thatâs tooââ you start, but itâs too late. and all sunghoon can do is stand there, and watch. watch as the reaction is already shooting upward, a fountain of foaming mixed colors exploding straight into the air before dropping right back down and directlyâ
on you.
all over you. from your hair to your eyelashes to your lips to your sweater to the floor.
the entire room goes silent. sunghoon swears he can hear 1) the way the professor closes her eyes slowly, like sheâs lived this exact nightmare seven semesters in a row, and 2) someone in the front of class whisper a small, âholy shit.â
and sunghoon is frozen in horror. completely, absolutely, done. wishing death upon himself. his soul leaves his body, watches from the ceiling, and considers not returning.
you blink. foam slides down your cheek in slow motion. âokay..,â you say, very calmly, as though you saw this coming from a mile away and yet still trying to process what happened. â..cool. of course.â
âiâi am soââ sunghoonâs voice breaks as he inhales a heavy breath, the words tumbling before he even knows what heâs apologizing for this time. the explosion? or maybe still the throw-up? the almost-broken-nose moment? âi donât even know how thatââ
you hold a hand up, stopping him mid-sentence. a blob of foam falls from your face.
âsunghoon,â you deadpan, eyes slowly opening. and your expression says it allânot annoyed, not surprised, not even disappointed. just the acceptance of fate. and sunghoon mentally accepts the fact that maybe he should not be allowed within ten feet of you.
âi know,â you sigh, voice strangely gentle for someone covered head to toe in chemicals and is the current center of attention in a room full of people, âand itâs okay.â
sunghoon squeezes his eyes shut. there is nothing he can say. no apology that will undo the last ten minutes, the last few days, the last entire week. no sentence in any human language that can fix this.
maybe this is punishment for that one time he ghosted a girl because she used too many laughing emojis. maybe this is karma coming back. maybe someone hired a witch to curse him. maybe it was jay. honestly, it was probably jay.
your voice breaks him out of his downwards spiral, âi think i need toâŚgo wash this out.â
and because sunghoon is sunghoon and a man powered entirely of panic, impulse, and bad luckâhe moves before he thinks. his hands are already tugging his own hoodie over his head, the hem catching awkwardly on his shirt, his hair going everywhere, and earbuds (why did he put his earbuds in his pocket) flying out and clattering to the floor.
but then heâs holding the hoodie out in front of him.
justâŚholding it. straight armed. eyes avoiding yours and trained on the material in front of him.
and you just stand there, foam still dripping, but now staring at the hoodie. then back at him.
âsunghoonââ
âjust take it,â he blurts, his cheeks flushed pink and voice embarrassingly earnest. âplease. before the chemicalsâŚseepâŚorâspread? i donât knowââ
and sunghoon has no idea what happens when lab foam dries on skin. he just knows it sounds bad and cannot, and will not, be the reason you get third degree chemical burns.
but when you take the hoodie from his hands, a small thank you on your lips, you look at him with something soft, something understanding, something that looks real, and not tossed out of politeness or pity. something that makes sunghoonâs heart want to beat straight out of his ribcage.
and when you come back a few minutes after, sunghoon thinks heâs ready.
he is not ready.
because, see, sunghoon did not think ahead (he has never once thought ahead, historically speaking), and therefore he did not anticipate the sheer consequences of his own actions playing out. of him handing you his hoodie. of you actually wearing his hoodie.
but there you are.
and it swallows you whole. the sleeves bunched slightly at your wrists so they donât slip past your fingers. the hem hits right at the end of your skirt. the collar sits a little wide and off-center because the hoodie is well-loved, and because sunghoon studies in it, because he sleeps in it, and because he chews on the drawstring when heâs stressedâso one string is short and the other is stupidly long, uneven in the exact way only his hoodie is uneven.
your hair is pulled up now, strands slightly damp from the sink, your cheeks pink from your attempt of scrubbing mysterious chemicals off, and you look like you belong in it.
sunghoonâs body has a reaction that can only be described as malfunctioning. his breath catches in his throat, his pulse jumps, and that foreign feeling of something coiling tight and low in his gut comes back, heating spreading uninvited, unwelcomed, but definitely undeniable.Â
because you look good. and soft and warm and heartbreakingly casual. like youâve worn his clothes a thousand times before. like you will wear his clothes a thousand more.
and definitely like something sunghoon could be stupid about for the rest of his life. like there is a universeâmaybe just slightly left of this oneâwhere this is normal. where you wash your face at his bathroom sink and steal his clothes on purpose and drink the orange juice from his fridge without asking.
and he would let you. every single time.
so yes, the third time sunghoon sees youâhe knows itâs coming. he just didnât expect to want it this time.
âso let me get this straight,â jay leans over the table with the wide eyes of someone who already heard the story (he did) and is simply here just to see his friend in agony (he is), ââŚyou blew her up?â
sunghoon peers his eyes from across the courtyard table, nearly scoffing, âno, i didnât blow y/n up.â
âsoâŚyou blew up all over her?â
sunghoon throws his hands up exasperatedly, gesturing to his still very intact self, âwell, evidently not!â
âokayâŚso,â jay draws his voice out, slow and unimpressed, dragging the fork through his lunch, ââŚwhat did you blow up?â
âwhyââ sunghoon drags a hand down his face, ââis everyone saying i blew something up?â
jay looks straight at him, chews on his pasta, and does not answer. instead, he pulls out his phone.
âbecause,â he scrolls through the screen once before turning the screen up to sunghoon, âof this text i got from jake saying âsunghoon blew up y/n. eye roll emoji.ââ
sunghoon stares. blinks, then stares again.
traitor.
âi blew up our science experiment,â sunghoon mutters through a sigh, pinching his nose like the memory physically hurts him. âall. over. her.â
jay pauses mid-bite. lets it sink in. thenâ
âoh god,â he bursts into full laughter, âall over her?â
sunghoon ignores him. rolls his eyes.
âjay, it was so bad,â he groans, burying his face into both hands now. âi donât even know what happened. she was so close to me and her hand brushed mine and itâs like my brain justââ he then looks up and claps his hands together dramatically. ââstopped.â
jay doesnât say anything.
sunghoon, however and unfortunately, continues.
âand then it gets worse, jay.â
thereâs a long beat. jay gives sunghoon a look that tells him thereâs no possible way it could get worse. but, once again, because the universe has a weird sense of humor, sunghoonâs existence is living proof that it always will get worse.
jay takes another bite before he nods solemnly, as if gearing up for whatâs coming. âalright, lay it on me. whatâs next, what else could possibly have happââ
but jay doesnât finish.
because at that exact momentâyou walk into the courtyard. hair still pulled into a loose ponytail, the sunlight catching in your face like the sun only came out today to make sure youâre seen by the rest of the world, a smile on your face as you walk besides jake.
but none of that matters.
because youâre still wearing sunghoonâs hoodie. his hoodie. and he canât take his eyes off you. you look like you got dressed in his bedroom. you look like you belong in his bedroom.
sunghoon stops breathing. from beside him, jay also freezes.
ââŚisnât thatâŚyour hoodie?â his chewing slows down to a a stop, voice going flat. then, just for dramatic effect, ââŚon y/n?â
sunghoon does not look away. in fact, heâs full on staring. stares like a man witnessing both the holiest and worst moment of his entire life.
âthat, jayââ sunghoon says, voice low, hollow, and utterly destroyed, ââis exactly how it gets worse.â
jay looks at youâcompletely swallowed by the hoodie, laughing lightly at something jake says, fingers tugging absentmindedly at the drawstring.
he looks back at sunghoon and squints.
ââŚthis is bad,â jay starts slowly, nodding as if he totally knows whatâs going on but definitely doesnât, âbecauseâŚ?â
sunghoon turns to him with a look, âBECAUSE, JAY. SHEâS WEARING MY HOODIE. and it makes meââ he gestures weakly, helplessly, and vaguely to himselfâ âfeel things.â
and thatâs when jay sets down his fork very gently, the realization hitting him in real time, âoh my god, you like her.â
sunghoon doesnât respond. he just closes his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to remember the exact breathing pattern his therapist (again, jay) recommended for moments of emotional crisis (four counts in, six counts out, something like that)âwhich, by the way, he is strongly considering firing him now because none of his advice ever helps in the moment.
because yes. sunghoon does like you.
he likes you. he likes the way your laugh sounds just a little breathier when youâre trying to not show you think something is funny. he likes the way you talk like youâre choosing your words on purpose, but never too carefully. he likes that you didnât freak out on him when he, multiple times, was the direct cause of your suffering. he likes the way you look at him like heâs not the complete wreck he is. he likes that youâre kind, but not in a soft, fragile way. kind like youâre aware and like you choose to be.
he likes you, and the only times he has ever interacted with you, heâs probably taken another two years off your lifespan.
sunghoon, by all known definitions, should never interact with you ever again.
âoh wow,â jay continues, laughing now, breathless, delighted, and the worst therapist-slash-best-friend in the world. âno, dude. you totally do. you have a crush on the girl youâre, likeââ he holds his fingers up half an inch apart, ââthis close to actually killing.â
sunghoon slams his palm on the table and immediately regrets it because it rattles and now people are looking, âshut up, jay.â
jay raises both his hands in surrender, but the smirk on his face says heâs not surrendering at all.
âno, likeâthink about it,â he presses, leaning in closer. âthatâs probably why you keep messing up. youâre nervous around her. like, elementary playground crush behavior. youâre basically pulling her pigtails.â
sunghoon stares at him, horrified. âjay. letâs not compare this to elementary school kids please.â
jay shrugs, picking his fork back up and goes back to twirling his pasta like this is a regular tuesday and not a life-changing-revelation for sunghoon.
âwhatever,â sunghoon continues, voice deflated, shoulders sinking, âit doesnât matter anyway. itâs not like she feels the same way. especially after iââ he pauses and gestures vaguely to the lingering memory of disasters that has defined his existence lately. âall of that.â
he doesnât specify which disaster. he doesnât need to. jay knows. you know. the world knows. God definitely knows.
sunghoon rubs a hand over his face, voice growing quieter, smaller. âi should just stop. stop talking to her. stop trying. justâŚdistance myself or something.â
thatâs when jayâs fork freezes mid-air. he sets it down and looks at sunghoon like he just suggested he run off to the mountains and join a cult.
âokay. woah. relax, drama queen. absolutely not.â
sunghoon blinks. jay picks his fork back up and points it at him with the authority of something who has never once been correct but speaks confidently anyway.
âfirst of all, please never say the words distance myself ever again. you sound like an awful romance-novel-series-turned-movie-franchise.â
sunghoon glares weakly from across the table. âiâm being serious, jay. she probably hates me. or worseââ he has to swallow because the next words taste bitter, like something he never wanted to even consider but could be highly likely, ââsheâs probably, like, i donât knowâinto jake. or something.â
and jay actually physically recoils. his whole upper body leans backwards like someone just threw a raw fish at him and he has to grab the edge of the table to prevent himself from falling back.
he then furrows his brows at sunghoon, eyes squinting, âyouâre joking, right?â
sunghoon doesnât answer. because he is, surely, not joking.
jay looks over his shoulder to where youâre standing across the courtyardâstill smiling, hair still catching sunlight, still wearing sunghoonâs hoodieâthen looks back at sunghoon with the expression of someone witnessing unprecedented levels of stupidity.
âsunghoon,â he says carefully, slowly, ây/n looks like the kind of person who probably color codes her google calendar and knows the exact expiration date of every condiment in her fridge. and jakeââ his thumb points vaguely behind him, ââjake once microwaved a fork because he thought it would make his food taste warmer. the entire reason why we donât live with him.â
sunghoon just stares. jay nods to himself, like thereâs no possible argument to this. âtrust me. i donât think y/n would want to choose that life.â
sunghoon opens his mouth to argueâbecause at least warmer meals by microwaved-metal sound better than an almost broken nose by footballâbut then his gaze flicks over jayâs shoulder.
âjay. stop. talking.â
and jay isnât even talking anymore, but he shuts his mouth anyways. he goes still. sunghoon goes still. then, sunghoonâs eyes widen a fraction, the smallest warning signal.
because youâre coming over. youâre walking across the courtyard next to jake, food in hand, and waving over at the two boys, completely unaware of the quarter-life-crisis occurring only a few feet away.
sunghoon keeps his face still, but his posture changes slightly. he pulls his shoulders back, takes a deep breath, straightens out the water bottle sitting in front of him for absolutely no reason.
âhey,â jake calls out, slapping jay lightly on the back as he drops into the seat next to him, âmind if we join?â
youâre already sliding into the empty spot next to sunghoon, easy, natural, like itâs just what you do. like this is normal. like sitting beside him is justâŚyour place.
ââcourse not,â sunghoon mutters, politely, evenly, eyes fixed on absolutely anything else that isnât you. the water bottle, the condensation, the way the light hits the plastic. fascinating stuff, really.
you shift, just a littleâknees angled toward him, shoulder brushing close enough that he can feel your warmth, not touching, but enough to notice the space between you.
âhey,â you say. itâs small, soft, casual. itâs nothing dramatic, but yet, sunghoon feels it like someone tugged a string from somewhere deep within his ribs.
he doesnât look up, just nods.
âhey.â itâs neutral, nothing to analyze, nothing to misunderstand.
if youâre werenât paying attention, you wouldnât think anything of it. but hereâs the thing, you are paying attention. so you offer him a faint smile, the kind thatâs quiet, doesnât demand anything, just acknowledgement.
and sunghoon sees it. his chest goes painfully warm. because he wants to look back. wants to return it. wants to ask how are you in a way that means iâve been thinking about you and not just saying it to make small talk.
he wants to tell you he keeps replaying the sound of your laugh in his head and wants to say something stupid and honest and reckless like i hope the hoodieâs okay. actually, please just keep it. forever. i donât want it back.
but instead, he focuses harder on anything and everything else around him. the way jakeâs enthusiastically talking to jay about something with his hands. the wrinkled label on the water bottle. jayâs pasta, now stale and definitely cold. everything he doesnât care about. because, right now, looking at the one thing he does care about feels too dangerous for himself.
and you notice. not in the dramatic why-are-you-avoiding-me kind of way, but in the micro-shift in your posture. the way your smile lingers for half a second longer than it should, like you were waiting for something. the way your fingers tap the edge of the table a few times. the way you let out a small exhale through your nose.
ââthinking just something small at our apartment,â jakeâs voice finally cuts in, bright and loud. heâs gesturing big enough to knock jay over if he wanted to. âdrinks, musicâmaybe ni-ki can dj if he doesnât lose his shoe again.â
jay groans. âone, he is not dj-ing. last time was a one direction blender remix from hell. and two, ni-ki will never not lose his shoe.â
you laugh at that, the sound light, amused, genuine. and sunghoon swears his chest has never felt more tight.
jake continues, eyes wide and excited, âanywaysâyou guys are coming. this weekend. both of you. no excuses.â
sunghoon nods once, quick and automatic. âyeah. sure.â
your head tilts at that, just slightlyâa tiny furrow in your brow, like you can sense something in the air is different.
and sunghoon tries his best to pretend he doesnât notice. tries to pretend that the sudden distance between you isnât something heâs actively building with his own hands. but it feels awful.
because he knows what heâs doing. doing the exact thing jay told him not to doâthe easy thing. pulling back, shrinking, playing it safe. as if safety has ever saved him from anything.
he swallows hard. his jaw clenches. the collar of his shirt suddenly feels too hot, too tight. but the conversation keeps moving around him anywaysâjake rambling about playlists, jay complaining about how heâs going to be forced to help clean afterwardsâvoices blended together into one long, meaningless sound.
meanwhile, sunghoon is somewhere else entirely. somewhere between panic and longing and the quiet awareness of his own undoing. he finally risks a glance, quick and careful, but just enough to look at you. and youâre already looking back at jake now, laughing gently, the kind that sunghoon could definitely get used to, butâ
your fingers still tap against the table. your leg bounces next to his, as if in anticipation, as if aware.
and sunghoonâs chest aches in a way he canât explain. not to himself. and definitely not to you.
the next time sunghoon sees you, he swears itâs not his fault.
at least, heâd like to think so. but statistically speakingâand sunghoon knows his statisticsâit probably was his fault anyways.
the parking lot is nearly empty, close to sunset hourâthat small time in between where the sky is barely turning colors and everything looks a little softer around the edges, the campus quieting down in the way it only is when all classes have ended for the week and everyoneâs going home.
sunghoonâs already halfway through the lot, keys dangling from hand, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. and heâs so close. dangerously, blissfully close to freedom. to going home, collapsing onto the couch, arguing with jay over takeout before inevitably eating cereal and playing league until his eyes dry out. so, yes, almost free.
almost able to pretend today didnât happen. almost able to pretend he didnât, once again, cause minor emotional and physical harm to the girl who has done nothing but exist and be moderately nice to him.
he unlocks his car, swings the back door open, tosses his backpack in with a soft thud. and thenâhe looks up.
and he sees you.
youâre a little ways across the lotâjust far enough that sunghoon could pretend he didnât notice you if he were a stronger man (he is not), but still close enough to see his hoodieâs sleeves pushed up to your elbows, a frown on your face as your phone is pressed to your ear, and the hood of your car propped open.
sunghoon watches as you pop your head back into your car and turn the key back into the ignition again and again and againâ
to no avail. the car stays dead.
sunghoon hesitates. he internally debates. argues with himself for, like, three whole minutes.
he could leave. he could absolutely leave. you havenât seen him yet. he could get in his car, drive away, go home, take a nice, warm shower even though it has weak water pressure, eat cereal over the sink, and pretend he never witnessed anything.
but instead, he stands there. like an idiot. staring across the parking lot with the look of someone whoâs fighting with only himself.
donât go. she definitely thinks youâre a curse.
go. sheâs wearing your hoodie.
donât go. what if you break the car somehow.
go. now. before she calls roadside assistance and meets a guy whoâs better at life than you. or worse, jake.
donât go. youâre supposed to be distancing. thatâs the plan. thatâs the safe thing. the smart thing, theâ
you look up.
and when your eyes meet his, your expression softens, breaking into something comforting and relieved. like youâre glad to see him. you lift your hand and give a small wave.
and thatâs it. thatâs the end of sunghoonâs entire distancing plan.
he sighs.
fine. he is going.
he is a moth and youâre the closest open flame and he will simply have to deal with the consequences later.
his feet start to move before the rest of him agrees to it, shoulders stiff, posture trying very hard to look normal and calm and definitely not like he just had a full internal monologue breakdown. you give him a smile when heâs close enoughâbright, easy, familiar, somehowâand sunghoon has to physically look away for a beat to reorient his mental wellbeing.
âcar wonât start?â he says, even though he definitely already knows the answer.
you let out a breath, the sound coming out like a laugh as if the situation is somehow funny instead of deeply annoying. âyeah. i think the batteryâs dead. or the universe hates me specifically. either one.â
sunghoonâs lips twitch because heâs sure if the universe hates anyone specifically, itâs him. âcould be both.â
your smile widens as you look up at him, âdefinitely both.â
thereâs a short pause that falls between you two for a second before you speak up again, âi tried calling the roadside people but it keeps going straight to voicemail, which feels pretty ironic.â
âiâm pretty sure roadside assistance is a scam anyways,â he says, shrugging as he tucks his hands deep into his pockets. âi think they just nap in trucks and hope people give up.â
you laugh at that, fully this time, and itâs even softer, warmer, like the joke wasnât even that funny but you like the way he said it. and sunghoon is ridiculously glad his hands are in his pockets now, because his fingers twitch at the sound.
and park sunghoon is not a car guy. not even a little bit. he failed his driverâs license test twice. and not even the driving partâhe failed the written part. both times. he still has to google which side his gas tank is on. and heâs pretty sure his car is two years due for an oil change.
so what he does next is absolutely logical, because sunghoon is not touching your car with a ten foot pole. what he does is what any rational, non-car expert, guy with a raging crush and a fully functioning car would do in this situation:
âdo youâŚwant a ride home?â he offers, though it comes out more like a question to himself.
your lips part just slightly. surprise flickers across your faceâand then something else. something unreadable. something that feels like a soft yes. âreally? you donât mind?â
sunghoon nodsâcasual, casual, very casualâdespite the fact that his heart is jumping around in his ribcage at the thought of you sitting in his passenger seat.
âi meanâŚâ he clears his throat, eyes down to the ground just to avoid yours. âwe literally live down the hall from one other. i wouldnât exactly be able to sleep peacefully knowing you got stranded in a parking lot.â
your smile widens a bit more, real and grateful, as you fidget with the ends of the hoodie now. âokay,â you say. âyeah. iâd really appreciate that.â
and thatâs how sunghoon finds himself walking you to his carâunlocking the passenger door for you like he was raised by parents who taught him manners (he was) and how to fall in love too fast (he does).
he gets in on his side, starts the car, and the radio is too loud, so he turns it down. then itâs too quiet, so he turns it up again. then regrets everything.
but he starts driving anyways, silence falling in between the two of you. he grips the steering wheel like itâs the only thing keeping him alive, and he clears his throat just to have something to do.
the engine hums, the sky slowly going from pink to orange around you two, but the one and only thing sunghoon can perceive is your presence in his hoodie in his car.
you look out the window, watching the campus buildings pass. âi always forget how pretty it gets around this time,â you murmur, suddenly breaking him out of his own thoughts.
sunghoon glances at you before focusing on the road again. âyeah,â he says, a little small. âit kind of sneaks up on you.â
you smile, not looking away from the window. and then suddenly, âyou strike me as a sunset person.â
sunghoon stills and blinks, keeping his eyes trained on the road. âa what?â
âlikeâŚyou seem like someone who appreciates that kind of stuff,â you explain, glancing slightly at him. âsunsets. late-night convenience store runs. peeling fruit the slow way. that kind of person.â
sunghoon opens his mouth. then closes it, because he does not know what to do with that sentence.
âi..i guess?â he tries, trying very hard not to panic at the idea of someone, namely you, having thoughts about him. âwell, you seem like aâŚsunrise person.â
you turn to look at him fully now, and you laugh under your breath, âiâm definitely not a morning person.â
âno. not morning,â he says, shaking his head a little. he turns right at a stop sign, his hand loose on the wheel now, almost relaxed. almost. âjustâŚthe feeling of starting fresh.â
you donât say anything right away. you just look at him, eyes trained to the side of his face, as if youâre trying to figure something out.
and sunghoon nearly drives into a parked prius, but he hopes you donât notice that.
you look back out your window, but your smile stays, âthat was weirdly poetic of you, park sunghoon.â
sunghoon swallows hard, but his grip loosens some more. the quiet settles again after that, but now itâs different. lighter, easier. you start talking about the small things, nothing earth-shattering, but something comfortable. something about the terrible on-campus breakfast, the vending machine that stole your dollar this morning, how jake broke your coffee machine after two uses. but the whole timeâsunghoon canât help but think.
think how maybe in another universe, this is normal.
maybe in another universe, youâre always in his passenger seat at the end of the day. maybe he drives you home not out of chance, but because itâs routine. because youâre just in each otherâs lives. because this is what you do. because he knows what songs you like to play when youâre tired and which stores you stop at on the way home and how you hum when you think about what you want to eat for dinner.
maybe in another universe, he didnât meet you by accidentally hitting you in the face with a football. maybe in that universe, heâsâŚnormal. not whatever this isâthis mess of nerves and second guesses and catastrophes that only ever seem to happen to him whenever heâs with you.
maybe in that universe, he meets you at one of jakeâs parties he throws too often. maybe youâre laughing at something someone said, holding a red cup and leaning against the counter, and sunghoon sees you from across the room the way people see things they were always meant to find.
maybe he walks overâall steady and confidentâand says something easy, something light, something that makes your smile bloom slowly and softly at him. not out of politeness, not out of pity because he threw up all over you. just because you want to.
maybe in that universe, he gets the girl. but this is not that universe.
and when the car rolls to a stop outside the building, sunghoon still finds himself walking you to your door.
because of course he does. because he wants to. because he doesnât know how not to.
you stop in front of your apartment, keys already halfway in the door, and turn to him, meeting his eyes fully.
âthank you,â you say, and the look in your eyes is soft. honest. and something else, something sunghoon canât quite place and, frankly, is afraid to. âfor the rideââ and then you look down, fingers toying with the drawstring of the hoodie, like it means something you donât have words for just yet, ââand the hoodie.â
and as sunghoon looks at you in the quiet of the hallwayâjust you, him, the flicker of the dying lightbulb a few doors down, and the pure warmth he feels around youâhe thinks thereâs a version of this moment where he says it all.
where he doesnât swallow everything down, doesnât mistake silence for safety. where he tells you he hasnât stopped thinking about you since the first time you laughed in his direction, that the sound of it still sits in his chest. where he admits that every stupid mistake, every clumsy accident, somehow only pulled him closer.
but instead, this version has him standing still, heart in his throat, pretending that wanting you quietly is the same as not wanting you at all.
so he just nods.
âyeah. of course.â
you smile one more time, soft and unsure, lingering just a beat too longâlike youâre waiting for him to say something else, or maybe trying to find the courage to say something yourself.
but then you turn, hand halfway reaching to the door handle, and pause. your fingers hover mid-air. the hallway hums with nothing but silence and the heaviness of everything left unsaid between you two.
sunghoon straightens instinctively, caught off guard by the stillness that follows.
you turn back to him. âcan iââ your voice comes quieter this time, hesitant in a new way he hasnât heard before. ââcan i ask you something?â
sunghoon blinks, his throat suddenly dry. âuhâŚyeah. of course. whatâs up?â
âweâre cool, right?â you ask, eyes wide and searching his face. âlikeâŚweâre friends?â
and the words hit harder than they should. sunghoon does not know how to answer that. because how exactly does he even define what this is? a one-sided crush? forced proximity? neighbors-turned-accidental-victim-and-perpetrator-turned-friends?
âumâyeah,â he finally says, hand rubbing the back of his neck. âiâd say so.â
you study him for a long second, lips parting like youâre testing to see whether heâs lying. âokay. i justâŚdidnât know if i did something wrong. you seemed a little off earlier, at lunch.â and your laugh that follows is small, nervous, the kind people use to soften a truth. âand i overthink sometimes, soâŚyeah.â
sunghoonâs heart twists sharply at that. you, overthinking. you, worrying if youâd done something wrong when heâs the one building the wall between you.
âno,â he blurts before he can stop himself. it comes out too fast, too honest, but he keeps going anyways. âno, you didnât do anything.â he clears his throat, a bubble of nerves rising too fast. âi justâŚwasnât feeling great. long day, you know? classes andâŚexploding chemicals and stuff,â he exhales, the corner of his mouth twitching.
your shoulders relax, the worry written all over your face fading into something gentler and amused. âokay,â you say with a nod, your smile returning. âjust wanted to make sure. friends, then?â
the word stings again, but sunghoon forces a smile anyways. âfriends.â
you grinâwide and brightâand it makes something in his chest go weightless and heavy all at once. because, sunghoon realizes, not for the first time, this is what he likes about you, maybe. that youâre not all sharp edges and confidence like he thought. youâre also warmth and thoughtfulness and awkward timing, the kind of person who checks in even when you donât have to. just because you want to, and just because you mean it.
âiâll see you tomorrow then?â you say, hand going back to unlock your door. âat the party?â
sunghoon nods. âwouldnât wanna miss it.â
you look back and smile at him one more time before slipping inside, the door closing gently behind you. sunghoon stands there for a moment, clinging to the warmth of your presence still in the air, lungs tight, and heart somewhere between the pavement of the parking lot and the memory of seeing you for the first time that day in the courtyard.
and he thinksânot for the first time, and definitely not for the lastâ
in this universe? he is truly, utterly, deeply doomed.
âso youâre really not coming?â
jayâs already standing by the door, shoes on, dressed in what he considers casual party attire, which means a wrinkled overshirt that might be clean, with a white shirt under that definitely isnât, and jeans he absolutely pulled off the back of his desk chair. his keys jingle in his hand as he leans against the door frame, waiting for sunghoon to fold.
âyes, jay. iâm staying.â sunghoon doesnât even look up from the couch, eyes trained on the random documentary that he found on the nature channel playing in front of him. âand frankly, you canât make me go.â
jay lets out a huff. âjake could. and he will. we literally live ten feet away, heâll drag you by your ankles if he has to.â
âthen tell him iâm sick,â sunghoon mutters back, slouching deeper into the couch like heâs trying to merge with it. âlike the flu or something.â
jayâs laugh that comes after is a loud, disbelieving, ha.
âthatâs so bull. you only ever get sick for two reasons,â he holds up two fingers. âone, when you drink too much, and two, when you get that suspicious ass chinese takeout i keep telling you to stop ordering.â
sunghoon finally looks up from the tv to glare at him. for a second, it looks like he might get upâstand his ground, be a grown man, assert dominance or whatever the sunghoon equivalent is to that.
he doesnât.
he just grabs the nearest couch pillow and launches it in jayâs direction with zero aim, zero strategy, and zero strength.
jay looks at the pillow. then at sunghoon. âwow,â he says flatly before tossing it back onto the far end of the couch.
âokay, fine,â jay continues, a mix of amusement and pity in his tone, âbut youâre really gonna sit here on a saturday nightââ he cranes his neck toward the tv, brows furrowing, ââwatching a documentary aboutâŚdinosaur extinction?â
âdinosaurs are cool,â sunghoon says, eyes narrowing in defense. âplus, iâm tired.â
âno,â jay crosses his arms. âyouâre lying.â
sunghoon then lets out a sigh through his nose, becauseâyeah, he is. but he doesnât let jay know that. because what he wants to say is that heâs exhausted, but not in the way that sleep can fix. the kind of exhaustion that comes from thinking too much and saying too little. from the drive home yesterday that replayed in his head so vividly heâs starting to remember it like a movie heâll never get to rewatch. from the realization that every time you smile, something inside him shifts a little, softly, painfully, and permanently.
and that terrifies him. because sunghoon has never been that guy. not the one who gets the girl, not the one who says the right thing at the right time. heâs the background characterâthe one who holds the door, smiles too late, apologizes too much.
so no, he canât go to that party. he canât stand in a crowded room watching you light up the way you doâlaughing at something someone else will say, someone elseâs story, someone elseâs joke, someone who isnât actively avoiding you for your own goodâreminding him of all the ways he canât have you.
jay stares for a beat longer, studying him like heâs about to bring up the topic sunghoonâs been avoiding all day and nightâbut he doesnât. he just exhales, slow and knowing, and reaches for the door. âfine. iâll tell jake you caught the plague or something.â
and after jay leaves, sunghoonâs not sure how much time passes. the apartment settles into that kind of quiet that lets you hear the hum of the fridge, the faint tick of the clock in the hallway that jay insists adds ambience, the low static of the tv playing in front of him.
sunghoon is still on the couch, now half under a blanket he stole from jayâs room, his eyes fixed on the screen, where a cgi triceratops is doing something probably scientifically inaccurate. but it doesnât matter anyways because he hasnât been paying attention for the past forty minutes. because his mind is somewhere else. itâs been somewhere else since you shut your door one night ago, wearing his hoodie and smiling at him like he hadnât spent the whole day overthinking about you.
and he tells himselfâagain, again, and againâthat this distance thing is good. smart. necessary. that the safest point between your two paths is the one where he never hurts you again. where he removes himself before he ruins something that couldâve been easy, simple, normal.
and sunghoon almost believes it, too.
until his phone buzzes.
it buzzes once, and itâs quick and sharp, yet cuts through his silence. he glances at the coffee table and stares at it. he almost doesnât want to pick it up, as if he knows who it is and is avoiding the inevitable.
but he reaches for it anyway.
Y/N (11:15PM) :
hii sunghoon
and his heart drops. he stares at the screen. doesnât type. doesnât move. his thumb hovers just above the message box just as his phone buzzes again in his hand:
Y/N (11:16PM) :
jay told me you werenât feeling well :( i hope everythingâs ok
sunghoon inhales sharply through his nose. his jaw tightens. because, no, nothingâs okay with sunghoon. not really. not the kind of ânot okayâ that he could exactly explain to you, though. itâs not a headache or a fever or whatever lie jay came up with. somewhere more like the ache of wanting something heâs convinced he shouldnât. something that looks a lot like you.
his brain starts the war almost instantly.
donât answer. youâre supposed to be distancing, remember? this is the plan.
donât be an asshole. just say thanks. be normal for once in your life.
sunghoon groans quietly, head hitting back against the couch as he presses the heel of his hand to his forehead.
then your third text lights up the screen.
Y/N (11:18PM) :
do you want me to bring anything?
and sunghoonâs brain short circuits completely.
yes. you. here. now.
you standing in his doorway, wearing his hoodie again like itâs the most natural, normal thing in the world. you filling the apartment with that quiet warmth you seem to carry everywhere. you sitting beside him on this stupid couch watching stupid documentaries with him until stupid hours of the night.
but because he canât exactly put that feeling into logical words, he instead stares at his screen for a little too long, fighting with the part of him thatâs screaming to stop pretending he doesnât care.
he stares long enough at your words that the screen dims, and he has to tap it once just to see your name again.
his thumb twitchesâhovering, shakingâbecause a part of him wants to break the rules he set for himself. wants to answer you. wants to let himself want you.
but he doesnât.
he shuts his phone off, flips it back down on the table, and pushes it away like itâs the devil himself. his throat burns, his chest hurts. he leans back into the couch, closing his eyes, and exhalesâslow, heavy, resigned.
because if he answers, heâll just want more again. and wanting has never ended well for sunghoon. so he tells himself youâre just being kind, that this is what you do because this is who you are. you care, you reach out, you text first. you say things like hope youâre okay and ask if he needs anything because you ask everyone that. because youâre a friend.
sunghoon sinks deeper into the couch, trying his best to breathe through the tightness that refuses to leave. the clock ticks, the documentary plays, the phone stays face down.
and just when sunghoon finally feels himself settleâ
the front door slams open.
ââOKAY. first of all, youâre coming to this party. and second of all, youâre so stupid.â
jake storms in at full volume, the door slamming shut behind him with the force of someone who has no respect for privacy and apparently door hinges. heâs flushedâcheeks pink, eyes bright, hair a mess, which means he definitely pregamed his own party.
sunghoon jolts upright so fast he nearly falls off the couch. âjesus christââ
but jake is already toeing off his shoes like he lives here, marching across the living room like a man on a mission, and unfortunately for sunghoon, that mission is him.
âdude,â jake says, pointing at him like an accusation, âwhat the hell is wrong with you?â
sunghoon groans, dragging a hand down his face. this is jayâs fault. this is all jayâs fault. itâs always jayâs fault. jay never locks the door and this is the consequence for sunghoon not checking. this is karma. this is the plague he supposedly caught. heâs never lying again.
âso tell me why jay said youâre sick,â jake even air quotes it. ââsick.ââ
a beat.
âwhich is a lie, by the way.â
sunghoon glares weakly. âwhy does everyone just casually know the conditions under which i get sick?â
âbecause,â jake raises a finger, counting, âone, you only get sick when you drink too muchââ
sunghoon mutters, âoh my godââ
âand twoââ jake continues, louder, a second finger in sunghoonâs face, ââwhen you get chinese food from that cursed corner place i keep telling you not to order from. so unless you did either of those tonight, which you didnâtâbecause they only take venmo and i checked your venmo transactionsââ
âwhy the fuck are you checking my venmo transactiââ
ââyouâre not sick.â jake finishes triumphantly.
âyou, jay, and i need to have a conversation about boundaries,â sunghoon deadpans at the boy in front of him.
âdonât deflect,â jake snaps at him. âyouâre avoiding the question.â
sunghoon slumps back into the couch cushions, silently praying for death. or a sinkhole. or spontaneous combustion. heâs not picky, really.
âiâll just go to the next one, okay?â he mutters from his spot. âitâs no big deal.â
and jake gives him a look that says heâs offended. like, genuinely offended.
âit is a big deal,â jake squints, marching a few steps closer. âyouâre not skipping this just to avoid y/n. what are you, twelve?â
sunghoon instantly shoots upright again, a look betrayal on his face, âiâwhat, who said anything aboutââ
âjay.â
sunghoon shuts his eyes. exhales. counts to three.
jay is fired. jay is beyond fired. he is never telling jay anything ever again.
âand also, i just know you,â jake continues, pacing the living room like this is an intervention sunghoon is now apparently a part of. âyou canât keep doing this. moping around, feeling sorry for yourself just because you made a few minor accidents.â
âa few majorââ
ââyes, sunghoon. a few minor ones,â jake says, waving a casual hand through the air. âjust go to the party, talk to her, apologize. kiss and make upâactually, donât do that one unless the vibe is rightâbut you get my point. just donât sit here doing this sad boy act and torturing yourself.â
sunghoon narrows his eyes at him, because he forgetsâhe always forgetsâhow stupidly well jake knows him.
jake, who once sat with sunghoon on the curb after a failed calculus final and talked him out of dropping out entirely by buying him a churro and saying, âyour brain just had a lag.â
jake, who memorized sunghoonâs stress tells by sophomore year of highschoolâright thumb tapping: anxious; left thumb tapping: spiraling.
jake, who once dragged him out of bed at 2AM because he âfelt in his soulâ that sunghoon needed fresh air and a convenience store slushie.
jake, who has known every single crush sunghoonâs ever hadâmost of whom sunghoon barely even realized were crushes until jake said something.
so yeah. of course jake sees right through him.
sunghoon looks away, jaw tight. eventually, he lets out a sigh, âjake, itâs not that simple.â
âsure it is,â jake stops, hands on his hips. âyou just make it complicated.â
sunghoon looks up then, and his expression isnât defensive. just resignedâthe kind that comes from trying too hard to convince yourself you donât care that thereâs no way you could go back now.
âiâm not going,â he says finally. âend of story.â
and for a moment, jake looks like he might argue again, brows drawn together, mouth opening. but then he stops. his mouth shuts and something soft flashes in his eyes. he lets out an exhale.
âfine,â he turns to the door, already putting his shoes on. âstay here. be mysterious and tortured or whatever.â
sunghoon doesnât reply. he just watches the glow of the tv flicker across the living roomâtiny prehistoric creatures moving across the screen, narrator droning on.
and right as jake is about to leave, he pauses. âoh, by the wayââ he adds casually. âshe was asking about you.â
sunghoon freezes. his heart does something absolutely violent and traitorous inside his chest.
jake then glances over his shoulder, âshe was looking for you, actually,â
and thatâs it. thatâs the crack in sunghoonâs entire resolve.
because logic means nothing when it comes to you. because distance means absolutely nothing when youâre still thinking about him. and restraint? restraint dies instantly because he can already see itâyou, at that party, somewhere in the crowd, wearing something thatâs definitely going to make sunghoon stop breathing, holding a drink and smiling at someone who could be him, but isnât.
jake opens the door. âsee you there, yeah?â
sunghoon didnât really know what the plan was. not really, anyways.
but here he is.
the musicâs too loud, the lightingâs too low, tinted red in that way that makes everyone look vaguely better but slightly untrustworthy, and everything smells faintly of fruit punch, cheap beer, and body spray. thereâs a sticky patch on the floor that catches the sole of his shoe everytime he shifts his weight, and someone spilled an entire drink near the door but everyoneâs pretending they donât see it.
and now sunghoonâs standing in the corner, yet again, red solo cup in hand, the deja vu washing over from last time. heâs already warmâcheeks flushed from the multiple shots jake forced into his hand the moment he arrived, calling them âcelebration shotsâ for finally showing up. jake took three. jay took one, immediately regretted it, but took a second one anyways. sunghoon took two and was rudely reminded him and alcohol donât like one another.
now heâs approximately three minutes into a conversation with a classmate whose name he absolutely does not remember but is pretending he does because lying feels easier than admitting he forgot. the poor guy is saying something about his econ midterm, but the words wash over sunghoon like static. because even while nodding politely, even through the chaos of the environment, sunghoonâs eyes find you.
of course they do.
youâre across the room by the couch, cup in hand, laughing at something someone just said. your head tilts back a little, your mouth curves in that way that knocks the air straight out of his lungs. itâs the kind of laugh that makes strangers look your way without knowing why. the kind of laugh that gets stuck in his head for days after.
and, of course, you look good.
unfairly good.
your hair soft under the shifting lights, your cheeks glowing, your sweater hanging just right on your frame. thereâs something about youâalways somethingâthat makes you look like a secret sunghoon wants to keep, a discovery he wants no one else to find, something he wants to learn slowly, quietly, intimately.
he swallows hard. looks away. then looks back again, because he canât not.
and then, almost as if you can feel that heâs staringâyou glance up. your eyes scan the room lazily, drifting over faces and shoulders and the mess of people. until they land on him.
your expression softens. surprised, but warm. a small, easy smile curves onto your lipsâone that says oh, you came, and something else heâs too scared to interpret.
and sunghoon, because heâs sunghoon, and a complete, absolute idiotâpanics.
he panics and turns away. pretends to be very interested in the contents of his red solo cup that he knows isnât even close to edible. nods along to whatever econ-related nonsense the guy in front of him is saying like itâs the most fascinating thing heâs ever heard.
and he doesnât see itâbut you frown slightly. doesnât see the way your smile falters, something uncertain flickering across your face. doesnât see the slight confusion in your eyes before you turn back to your group.
and thatâs how it starts. the night spins on just like thatâfull of almosts and not quites and hesitation.
you find him in the kitchen a little bit later. heâs pouring something that looks just as inedible as before into his cup, and you smile when he notices you.
âheyâiâm glad you made it, you feeling better?â
but sunghoon startles like youâve caught him doing something wrong. he steps back too quickly, nearly bumping the counter, muttering something along the lines of âyeahâiâm okay, fineââ before he excuses himself to find jay.
later, you end next to him in the circle when jakeâwhoâs already too many shots inâsuggests a game of truth or dare. you sit, knee brushing sunghoonâs for a second, before he abruptly stands up, mumbling about needing more ice in his cup before disappearing into the crowd.
and then it keeps happening. youâre mid-conversation with jay and jake, laughing at something ridiculous they just said, when your eyes move across the room, as if your body canât help but instinctively search for him. when you finally find him againâleaning against the wall across the room, phone in hand, eyes meeting his for a brief secondâhis gaze darts immediately back down to his phone as if nothing just happened.
you start to notice itâthe way he never stays in the same place as you for long, the way he keeps his shoulders angled away from you, the way his smile turns tight and fades when you step too close. the way his eyes flash with something heavy and unspoken before he drags them away from you as if touching you would be dangerous.
you try to tell yourself youâre imagining it, that maybe heâs tired, that itâs the alcohol or the lighting or ni-kiâs loud karaoke or anything else.
your chest feels tight. the air feels heavier than it should. jay is rambling about unplugging the karaoke machine before ni-ki loses his voice, jake is doubled over laughing, red cup in hand that you should definitely take away from him, but none of it feels right anymore.
and itâs ridiculous, really. because you shouldnât care this much. because, technically, sunghoon is no one to you. just a boy you met recently. a boy who happened to be decent-lookingâvery, very, decent-looking. who happened to be clumsy in a way that drew you in instead of away. who happened to be your neighbor. your roommateâs best friend. a guy with pretty hands and a nervous laugh and a tendency to panic whenever you tried to flirt with him on purpose.
and, honestlyâat first it was fun.
because youâre not oblivious. youâre not dense. you noticed the way he got nervous around you. you saw the way his eyes widened the first time you ever said his full name, the way his breath caught when you leaned in, the way his hands shook the tiniest bit when you wore his hoodie.
and god, you liked it. you liked getting a reaction out of him. liked watching the way he came undone so easily around you.
but now? now that same boy wonât even look at you?
it feels worse than it should. worse than you want it to. worse than anything heâs done so farâand that includes accidentally assaulting you three times.
you tell yourself itâs fine. that it doesnât matter. that youâre overthinking again, like you always do.
you laugh at something jake says. you clink your cup against jayâs and take another sip just to have something to do ith your hands. you smile, chat, pretend nothingâs wrong.
but then, from the corner of your eye, you see it.
the way sunghoonâs head turns when you laugh, just barely. the way his gaze flickers toward you for a second too long. the way his jaw tightens before he looks away again like he saw something he shouldnât have.
and thatâs when something inside you snaps. the ache shifts sharply, into something close to frustration, confusion and something hot behind your ribs that makes your drink taste too bitter and makes the room feel too loud.
you set your drink down on the table next to you, too hard. it spills over the rim. you donât even care.
because what is this? what is he doing? and why does it sting so much?
jay says something to youâsomething that makes jake laugh again a little too loudly, but you barely hum in response, eyes already scanning the room again.
you find him again, now closer to the back hallway, talking to someone you donât recognize. he looks uncomfortable, like he almost always does, but thereâs something else tonight. something distant.
and youâre done trying to figure it out.
you held back, you didnât push. you swallowed your pride enough to ask him point-blank if you were even friends. you tried to read him, tried to be patient, tried to be understanding.
and now heâs avoiding you? after heâs the one who kept messing up? after he offered you his hoodie? after he drove you home? after everything?
you feel heat bubble in your throat, not from embarrassment, but something closer to hurt. something that feels too close to rejection from someone you barely even know.
youâre done. youâre done wondering. done overthinking. done waiting for him to make the first move.
so before you can talk yourself out of it, your feet are already moving. through the crowd, past the couch, past jayâs raised eyebrows, jakeâs knowing smirk, and ni-kiâs off-key singing.
and when you finally get to him, he barely has a second to react before your hand catches his wrist and youâre pulling him into the dim hallway of the apartment that leads to where the bedrooms are.Â
itâs quieter here, the thumping bass of the music fading into a distant pulse behind him, like a heartbeat finally slowing downâunlike his own. the air is cooler, laced with the faint scent of spilled beer youâre going to lose your mind over in the morning and whatever cheap air freshener jake sprayed earlierâbut itâs still a relief from the chaotic swirl of bodies and flashing lights in the living room.
sunghoon stumbles a little as you tug him along, finally stopping with a soft thump when his back hits the wall. heâs trappedâstuck against the peeling wallpaper and your hand still wrapped tightly around his wrist. his eyes widen, the look on his face equal parts confusion, surprise, and something else, something that makes your stomach flip.
âso are you going to tell me why youâre ignoring me?â your voice comes out sharper than you intended, raw with the sting of it allâthe silence, the distance, the hurt flashing in your eyes as you watch him falter.
sunghoonâs mouth opens, then closes, his adamâs apple bobbing as he swallows hard. his cheeks are flushed pink under the dim lighting, and you canât tell if itâs from the shots he knocked back earlier with jay and jake or from the way youâre standing so close.
âiâiâmâŚâ heâs stammering, his voice low, almost like a whisper stuck in throat, like heâs afraid the words will shatter everything between you. âi donâtââÂ
âbecause first of all,â you step closer, âyou tell me weâre fine, weâre friends, weâre cool, that i didnât do anything wrongââ
his eyes flicker in panic. breath stutters, chest rising too fast.Â
ââand then you ignore my texts. completely avoid me. wonât even look at me. in my own apartment.â you exhale sharply. âiâm confused, sunghoon.âÂ
and for a moment, neither of you move. the music muffled now, just an echo behind you, and the hallway feels too quiet. too intimate, too charged, like the world narrowed down to just the two of you. you loosen your grip on his wrist, but you donât drop it. and he doesnât pull away. he just looks at you like heâs bracing for impact. then, he swallows hard, âiâitâs not like i want toââÂ
â...okay,â you cut in but your voice is softer, steadier, âthen what is it?âÂ
you watch as sunghoon takes a breath as if to ground himself before he starts, âitâs justâiâŚâ and suddenly his words tumble, trip, collapse over themself. âi donât know. i just keep messing up. everytime. like the football, the shoes, the lab, probably somehow your car breaking down had something to do with me, literally everythingââÂ
âsunghoonââÂ
ââand itâs like my body just glitches around you or something,â he blurts, running a hand through his hair. âi get nervous, then do something stupid, then you get hurt, and then i feel like an idiotââ his voice cracks and he has to take a breather before continuing again, âand i donât know how to get myself to stop screwing up around you. i donât know how to just be normal. not with you.â
his eyes drop. shoulders tense. he looks like he hates himself for saying any of that out loud.
you donât say anything. you just look at him, studying the way his cheeks glow that soft pink, the slight part of his lips as he breathes unevenly, the way he looks at you with that raw, boyish vulnerability and nerves.
and then your anger melts into something else. something warmer, deeper, something that understands. something that makes the frustration soften and something that tugs at your chest.Â
you step closer, close enough to feel the heat rolling off of him, close enough that he sucks in a breath like you just touched him even though you didnât. a small smile makes its way to your face as you tilt your head to meet his eyes fully. your eyes flicker down his faceâalong the cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way he swallows hard under your gaze.Â
âokay thenâŚjust stop messing up,â you whisper, lips quirking just the tiniest bit. your tone is lighter now, teasing, like itâs the simplest solution in the world.Â
sunghoon blinks at you. once, then twice. because you say that as if itâs easy. as if your simple existence being just mere inches away doesnât set every nerve inside his being on fire. as if his heart isnât pounding so loud and wild that heâs convinced you can hear it, drowning out the rest of the party around you. as if youâre not looking at him with your glossy eyes and lips, so close to his own, that he doesnât know if he should kiss you or melt into the ground.
but none of that matters.
because you decide for him.
because the silence is too thick, too charged, and you canât take it anymore. so before you can even think to stop yourselfâ
you lean in and close the distance, your lips brushing his in a hesitant, soft way that sends a jolt through you both. and itâs cautious at first, like testing the waters, and sunghoon genuinely believes heâs in a fever dream for a second. but then his hands suddenly find your waist and pull you in closer, and it shifts into so much more.
his lips move against yours with a newfound urgency, one hand sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. his back hits the wall again with the sudden motion, but he doesnât care. in fact, in this moment, nothing else matters to sunghoon right now.
because youâre deepening the kiss, tasting the faint bitterness of beer on him, mixed with something sweeter, something unmistakably sunghoon, something that pulls you into a quicker, messier rhythm. a low groan escapes his throat, vibrating against your mouth, and it only fuels you further. you break apart for a breath, but only for a second before your lips crash into his again, your hands fisting in his hoodie as you push him harder against the wall. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you flush against him until the heat between you becomes nearly unbearable.
âcome on,â you murmur against his lips, your voice breathless as you grab his wrist again, but this time you tug him toward the first door in the hallwayâyour roomâand push it open with your free hand.
the door clicks shut behind sunghoon, and he barely has a moment to take in the surroundingsâdimly lit by the small lamp on the nightstand beside your bed, a string of lights laced along the headboard, a stack of annotated books piled on your desk, and a row of succulents perched on the windowsill. itâs all so warm, so utterly you.
thatâs all he manages to register within the first 0.5 seconds of entering your room. because you donât hesitate. your lips crash into his again, more fervent now, hungry, backing him hard against the door until the frame digs into his back but he doesnât even care.Â
sunghoon kisses you like heâs terrified itâll end if he stopsâtoo much tongue at first, then not enough, teeth clashing in the mix because he tilts wrong, nose bumping yours, a startled little huff escaping him when you nip his bottom lip and he doesnât know whether to pull back or chase harder. his hands are everywhere and nowhereâgripping your waist tight, then loosening like heâs scared heâll bruise you, then wandering up your back and fisting your sweater like itâs the only thing keeping him on earth.Â
itâs sloppy, breathless, desperate in a way only a kiss can be when the person has waited twenty two years and repressed every memory that came before it. his rhythm falters with every push and pull, chasing your mouth when you pull for air, making these soft, involuntary soundsâhalf-whimper, half-groanâthat heâll probably overthink about later.Â
âpark sunghoon,â you whisper against his swollen lips, pulling back just enough that he instinctively follows, chasing, eyes still closed, and completely, utterly, wrecked. your hands knot in his hoodie, âam i your first kiss?âÂ
sunghoonâs eyes flutter open, hazy and dark with pure want as he looks down at you. âyeahâwell, nââ the rest dies when your drag your teeth over his lower lip, slow and deliberate. a broken, needy sound tears out of him and his hips jerk forward involuntarily, ââno. yes? i think.â
âyou think?â your hands slide into his hair, nails scraping lightly, and tug just enough to tip his head back. the soft thud of his back hitting the door again doesnât even registerâhis arms only tighten around you, fingers everywhere like heâs trying to memorize your exact shape through fabric. âtell me.âÂ
âtechnicallyââ he starts, voice cracking. âthere was this girl in tenth gradeââÂ
you cut him off again with your tongue this time, licking into his mouth slow and filthy, and whatever story he had dies against your lips. he makes another helpless noise, raw and surprised, and tries to copy the motion. his nose bumps yours again, his grip on your hips stutter, and every time he thinks he found the rhythm, you change it, and he whimpers like it hurts. itâs all messy, desperate, and perfect.Â
one of his hands slides downâhesitant, then suddenâand cups the back of your thigh. he lifts it experimentally, and when you immediately hook your leg around his waist he groans like heâs been punched. you smirk against him, giving him credit for the confidence you didnât think he had in him as he pulls you flush against his body.Â
ââspin the bottle,â he manages to gasp out when you trail your mouth along his jaw now, nipping at the skin here and there. he tilts his head back, offering more as his eyes flutter closed again, a soft moan on his lips. âi bit her lip and she bledââ
you giggle softly against his jaw, teeth grazing the sharp line of it, and he shudders so violently his knees almost buckle. his voice is strained now, another small gasp cracking from his throat when you roll your hips once, the friction going straight to his core. ââand my therapist told me to repress traumatic memories so i donât count it.âÂ
you freeze and pull back slightly, lifting an eyebrow as amusement flickers in your eyes despite the heat pooling in your core. âyour therapist?â
sunghoonâs eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide, mouth swollen and red and still chasing yours. âuh. yeah. jay. jay is my therapist.â
your lips twitch, a small laugh bubbling out before you can catch it. god.
âfuck. youâre so cute,â you murmur, and the sound of your laugh seems to snap the last thread of any and all restraint sunghoon had left. you crash your mouth back into his the same second he surges forwards, kissing you like heâs drowning and youâre his oxygen, like youâre the only thing keeping him grounded at this point. youâre already moving, tugging the front of his hoodie, walking backward, pulling him with you step by stumbling step across the room.Â
he follows without question, hands roaming everywhere all at onceâup your back, into your hair, down to your ass like he canât decide what he wants to hold onto most. his mouth never leaves yours, swallowing every soft noise you make, and every time you nip his lip he makes that same desperate little sound and tries to kiss your harder, deeper, messier.Â
your legs hit the edge of the bed first, and you tumble backwards with a small thud. sunghoon stays standing at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, lips parted and shiny, hair a mess. his eyes rake over youâlips swollen, hair fanned across your pillow, that infuriating, knowing smirk still clinging to your mouth like you already know exactly what you look like sprawled out waiting for him.
and god, sunghoon thought he knew what living felt like. he thought he was pretty damn accomplished alreadyâdecent grades, a color-coded closet, the occasional victory when he plays league with the guys. but this? sunghoon just stares, like this sight of you like this is a religious experience heâs not worthy of.Â
heâs never felt more alive.
you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilt your head, and your smirk widens.Â
âgonna keep me waiting, park sunghoon?âÂ
you tease, an eyebrow arched as sunghoon shakes his head frantically in an almost comical, desperate no. he scrambles forward like a man possessed, knees sinking into the mattress before his weight is on you just right, one thigh easily slotting between yours as he leans down to capture your lips again. his hands shove under your sweater, palms hot and trembling against your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra like heâs afraid to go higher but dying to.
your hands roam up his back under his shirt, light enough to raise goosebumps, but hard enough to make him arch and grind down with a muffled, broken moan that vibrates straight into your mouth. his mouth trails everywhere, hot and open against your neck, tasting the cool metal of that stupidly delicate necklace, teeth nipping in that perfect, impossible way that hitches your breath and makes you wonder how the hell this could be his first time doing this.
his thigh presses firmer, rough denim rough against your bare skin where your skirt has slightly ridden up, and you canât help itâyou roll up into him, shameless, chasing the pressure, hips circling slow and needyânot sure what youâre after, just something, anything, to relieve the rising ache.
and that makes sunghoon freeze. just for a split secondâhis mouth hovering over your collarbone, breath ragged and uneven against your skin. you feel it right away, the faint tremor in his hands where theyâre gripping your hips, the way his body tenses against yours. he pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your eyesâhis own wide, pupils blown but laced with something elseâuncertainty and pure, raw, nerves that make your heart twist.
âwait,â he breathes, voice low and rough. his forehead drops to yours, nose brushing, lips so close you can feel the ghost of them against yours, âiâŚi donât know what iâm doing.â
and itâs the way the confession spills out. the way it sounds so vulnerable, jagged edges and all. the way his cheeks burn a deeper red that starts to creep down his neck. the way his fingers flex against your sides, like heâs afraid to let you go but equally afraid to keep touching.
the way his eyes hit youâwith desire so thick it aches in your core, tangled with that boyish charm that only makes him so much more endearing, more real. you tilt your head up, your hands softening where they clutch his shoulders.
âsunghoon,â you whisper, voice soft but steady, thumb tracing a slow circle onto his hoodie. âthatâs okay. we can stop, or we can keep going. whatever youâre comfortable with.â
and sunghoon swallows hard. every nerve he owns is screamingâyour body soft and there beneath him, the way your legs are hooked around his waist, itâs all overwhelming, intoxicating, like heâs edged too close to the sun and has absolutely no intention of backing away. and sunghoonâs never been here before, never had anyone look at him like this. but heâs also never felt this way about anyone before. and thatâs what makes his heart slam against his ribs.
his eyes drop to your lips before flickering back up. âyeah?â itâs barely a word, more like a pure plea, and god, the vulnerability in it tugs at you harder.
âyeah,â you lean in, brushing your mouth against his in a feather-light touch, not quite a kiss, but just enough to make him chase it. his breath hitches, hands sliding up your waist under your sweater again, hesitant but warmer now, like your words unlocked something for him.
âi justâi really like you, y/n,â his words are so soft and quiet you almost think you made it up. ââand i really donât want to mess this up. more than i have.â his hands shake slightly on your waist, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your skin as the confession hangs there between you like something holy and obscene at the same time.Â
you lean up and give him a full kiss this time, soft, gentle, and reassuring, then smile against him, shifting your hips just enough against him to draw a sharp inhale from him. âyou wonât, hoon,â you whisper, nipping at his lower lip, tugging it gently between your own until he groans. âtrust me, youâre not going anywhere.â you fingers weave back into his hair, guiding him back down as you capture his lips againâslower this time, letting him set the pace even as you arch up to meet him.
and sunghoon melts into it, his tongue shyly tracing your lips until you part for him, letting him in with a soft sigh that goes straight to his core. his hands gain confidence, sliding up your sides, palms warm and slightly calloused as they explore the curve of your ribs, stopping just shy of your bra like heâs silently asking for permission. you nod into the kiss, arching your body into his hands, and he exhales like heâs been holding that breath for years. fingers shove your sweater up and off in one frantic motion, and the cool air hits your skin the same second his mouth doesâand itâs hot, open, starving against your throat.Â
your hands go down to the ends of his hoodie, dragging the material up his chest yourself, nails raking over his abs, feeling them tense under your touch. âoff,â you mumble into his mouth.Â
sunghoon doesnât hesitateâhe takes it off so fast and clumsily, in park sunghoon fashion, that he almost elbows himself in the face but that doesnât matter. itâs tossed blindly into the corner of your room before heâs back, chest pressing against you, skin already boiling hot.Â
his lips find your throat again, this time sucking a small mark just below your jaw, harder than before, teeth scraping, tongue soothing, and when he pulls back to check your face, thereâs still that flicker of hesitation, like heâs waiting for you to tell him no.
âthis okay?â he murmurs against the bruise he just left, voice wrecked, his hips rolling down experimentallyâa slow, grinding press that has you gasping, thighs tightening around him, the rough drag of his pants over your bare thighs sending a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly. sunghoonâs breath catchesâsharp and audibleâlike heâs just discovered something forbidden, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies connect, then back up to your face, searching, pleading.Â
you canât answer with words. you just arch up even more, grinding your heat against the now obvious length of him, and the broken moan that rips out of his throat is unholy. he starts to move a little faster, barely holding it together as he chases the way youâre arched off the bed. his hands brace on either side of your head, arms trembling faintly from the effort of holding himself up, caging you in the best kind of trap.
you nod, biting your lip to stifle back a moan, your hands sliding down his sides with a firm press. âyeah, just like that,â you whisper, voice laced with encouragement that makes his pupils go wider. âkeep going, just feel me.â
he follows your lead, eyes locked on yours, lips parted in awe as he follows your rhythm. âfuck,â he breathes, forehead dropping to yours again. another roll, deeper this time, heavier, his hardening length unmistakable through his jeans, pressing right where you need it, drawing a whimper from your throat. âlike this?â
âyes, perfect, hoon,â you let out, rewarding him with a tilt of your hips that has him cursing again under his breath, his movements faltering for a second before he steadies himself again. âuse your hands, baby. touch me. here.â you take one of his palms and guide it between your bodies and beneath your bra, molding his broad hand over your breast and squeezing it lightly with your own fingers laced over his.
sunghoonâs eyes darken to near black as he stares at his hand on you like itâs a miracle. the hesitation flickers againâhe bites his lip hard, eyes darting to yours for that final green light. you nod, arching into his touch and removing your own hand before he finally moves, thumb circling slowly at first, then bolder, pinching lightly until you gasp his name, âsunghoonâyes, harder.âÂ
he obeys instantly, rolling the bud between his fingers while kneading with a confidence that borders on desperate. the sensation releases another moan from you, this time loud enough that he clamps his free hand over your mouth instinctively, his eyes blown in a panic.Â
âshhâpeople mightââ but you donât let him finish.Â
you take his thumb between your lips, sucking it without any hesitation that leaves him choking on a sound thatâs half-moan, half-whine, hips now jerking erratically against yours. his hand falls away, replaced by his mouth crashing into yoursâmessy, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your moans as he grinds harder, faster, the rough drag of fabric and heat coiling tight between you until youâre both chasing that edge, breathless and lost.
sunghoon should be embarrassed, really. the only one coherent thought left rattling around his skull is:Â
heâs about to cum in his pants like a goddamn middle-schooler and thereâs not a single thing he can do to stop it.
he canât stop the obscene sounds spilling from his mouth, his gut feels like itâs on fire in the best way possible, and heâs jerking his body against your soaked heat like itâs trying to fight its way through the pathetic fabric. itâs his first time with a girl, and he might not even make it to the first time part at this point.Â
âskirt. push it up,â you pant against his lips, and he does, fumbling his fingers to fully hike the fabric to your waist, exposing the thin barrier of your underwear. his hand hovers there, burning over your thigh, inches from where youâre aching and soaked for him. âtouch me, hoon,â you urge, not waiting to take his wrist and press his palm right over your wet core, letting him feel the way youâre absolutely dripping through the lace.
sunghoonâs entire body locks at the sensation, eyes in shock, lips shiny and swollen as he stares down at you, chest heaving. âiâfuck, youâreâŚwet.â the word comes out slowly, almost disbelieving. his fingers flex, tracing the outline of you through the thin fabric. your mouth drops open slightly at the sensation as you buck up into his hand with a sharp whine, nodding.
âyeah, for you, hoon. now rub, likeââ you move his fingers for him, showing the motionâslow, firm circles over your clit that already have your legs trembling, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. he easily takes over after two strokes, copying perfectly, his touch turning slick as he presses firmer, learning your body like itâs his new religion. âoh godâyes, right there, donât stopââ
and he definitely isnât planning on it. sunghoonâs mesmerized, forehead pressed to your shoulder now, watching his own hand work between your legs like itâs the most fascinating thing heâs ever seen. his hips keep grinding, chasing his own friction clumsily against your soft thigh, breaths coming in hot gasps against your skin.
âsunghoonâfuck,â you whimper, the praise spilling out as his thumb finds that perfect rhythm on your clit, circles tightening, faster now, the slick sounds filling the room obscenely. he groans like itâs the hottest thing heâs ever heard, his free hand clamped on the headboard above you to steady himself.
âam iâis this good?â his words come out cracked and rough, raw desperation threading through it as he presses two fingers experimentally against your entrance through the soaked fabric, feeling you flutter and pulse for him. his hips grind down harder in response to your every twitch, the bulge in his jeans now straining, hot and insistent against your thigh. sunghoonâs unravelingâmuscles tense, cheeks flushed, abdomen flexing with every rollâbut those big, pleading eyes keep flicking up to yours constantly, almost as if begging for reassurance, for you to keep leading him through this fire.
âperfect, baby. so, so good,â you choke out, your hand shooting down to cover his, guiding his fingers to slip right under the edge of your underwear now. âinsideânow. curl them up, like this.â you demonstrate with his hand, pushing one long finger past your folds, then two. and he slides in so easily, your arousal coating him instantly. the stretch burns sweetly, and you both moanâhis a broken, addicting sound that sends a vibration straight through you.
sunghoon stops again, buried to the knuckles, eyes staring down at where heâs disappearing inside you. âholy shit,â his voice is wrecked, feeling the way you clench instantly around him. âyouâre soâtightâfuck, i can feel youââ his fingers twitch inside you, curling just like you showed him, brushing that one spot that makes your eyes roll back instantly.
âright there. right there, hoon. pleaseââ you cry out, back arching off the bed, nails raking down his bare back hard enough that it stings but he doesnât care. your words give him the confidence to moveâgentle thrusts at first, scissoring his fingers gently, learning the slick glide of you around him, then bolder, fast, his thumb never leaving your clit. the dual sensation has you seeing white, the pleasure coiling violently tight in your core, breaths coming in sobs now.
his forehead drops to yours, noses bumping, lips brushing yours in frantic, open-mouthed kisses that are more shared air than anything. âtell meâfuck, tell me what else,â heâs panting against your mouth, his free hand moving from the headboard to palm your breast fully, rolling your nipple between his fingers. âwant to make youâcumâplease, show me howââ
and that pleaâraw, ruined, hisâsnaps the coil.Â
you shatterâwalls clamping down hard on his fingers that they stutter inside you, your orgasm rushing through in sudden waves before you could see it coming. âsunghoonâyes, yes, yesââ your cries muffle into his shoulder, thighs shaking uncontrollably, gushing over his hand in a rush that soaks his fingers, his wrist, the sheets beneath you.
sunghoon whines, all high and uneven as he watches you come undone on his fingers, squeezing him like youâre trying to keep him inside forever. his hips jerk forward in messy, desperate snaps against your thigh, cock leaking steadily through his boxers now, chasing friction heâs too wrecked to control. he doesnât stopâhe canât stopâpumping you through it, thumb grinding ruthless circles over your swollen clit until youâre twitching, oversensitive, thighs clamping around his wrist like a trap, a broken sob ripping out of you that sounds like his name and mercy all at once.
only when your body limps, boneless and gasping, does he ease his fingers outâslow, deliberate, eyes locked on the way your slick coats him, strings of it clinging to his skin as he holds them up to the dim light. his breath stutters at the sight of his glistening fingers, dripping with just pure you. âdid iâfuck, did i do that?âÂ
he doesnât wait for an answer. brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean with a filthy, broken groan that vibrates straight to your spent clit, making your body jerk again even as youâre still coming down. his tongue swirls, greedy, eyes fluttering shut like heâs tasting heaven and hell at once.
youâre ruinedâface flushed, lips bitten raw, hair stuck to your forehead with sweatâbut that smirk still clings. you grab his wrist, yank him down hard, and crash your mouth to his, tasting yourself on his tongueâa little salty, a little sweet, but all filthy. âweâre not done,â you murmur, wrecked and hungry, hands already fumbling for his pants. âoffânow.â
sunghoon nods frantically, hips lifting just enough to help you shove the material down his legs, boxers tented obscenely, a dark stain already blooming in the front. before he can even process, you hook your fingers in the waistband and drag them down too, freeing him andâfuck. heâs thick, flushed a deep red and curving up toward his stomach, already twitching under your gaze untouched.
he immediately tries to hide his face in your neck, mortified. âdonâtâdonât stare like that.âÂ
you giggle, low and filthy, wrapping your hand around him without warningâone firm stroke from base to tip, thumb swiping through the bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit, spreading it down his length in a slick glide.he immediately bucks into your fist with a choked sob, one hand clutching your shoulder, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
âbaby, youâre gorgeous,â the words drip off your tongue like honey or poison but sunghoon doesnât know the difference at this point. your thumb swipes over his silt again, and sunghoon has to shut his eyes to restrain himself from finishing all over your fingers right then and there. âfeel how hard you are for me? fucking dripping.âÂ
another strokeâtighter, fasterâand his head slams against the pillow next to your head, throat bared, a high, desperate whine tearing out of him.
âtouch yourself,â you order, guiding his trembling hand to wrap around yours. âshow me how you do it when you think about me.â
sunghoonâs eyes snap to yours, wide and scandalized, breath picking up. âwâwhat? iâfuck, i donâtââ but his hand moves anyways, wrapping around yours where you stroke him, guiding you togetherâslow twists at the head, then long pulls back to his base. heâs so responsive, every drag pulling more and more. more moans from his throat, more precum from his tip, leaking steadily over your knuckles.
âgood boy,â you praise, and he preens, chest puffing slightly, a desperate whimper spilling out as his free hand braces the headboard above you again for leverage.
âfasterââ you tighten your grip, speeding up, and he follows your lead flawlessly, both your hands working him in brutal sync until heâs babbling nonsense pleas mixed in with your name like a prayer heâs too far gone to control.Â
then you feel him twitch, once and hard, and you stop cold, releasing him. sunghoon almost pouts at the sudden, aching voidâthe sharp denial hitting like a punch, but youâre already shifting, too fast to let him dwell.
ânot yetâi want your mouth first,â you murmur, sitting up and shoving at his chest until heâs forced back on his heels between your spread thighs, cock bobbing heavy and desperate, flushed dark and leaking. his gaze dropsâyour face, your bitten lips, then lower to where youâre still exposed, folds swollen and glistening, lace shoved aside and ruined, dripping with the mess he made of you. âget off the bed. on your knees, hoon. want you to taste me.â
he drops instantlyâknees thudding against the floor at the foot of the bed, hands grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the edge so fast the mattress springs groan. his face is inches from your core now, breath punching out hot and frantic over your sensitive skin, making you twitch.
he swallows hard at the sight. âiâyou need toâŚshow me please,â heâs nearly begging, his voice raspy yet so earnest that it makes your heart stutter at the sight.
you thread your fingers in his hair, guide his mouth forward, pressing his lips to your inner thigh first, letting him kiss and lick small, gentle patterns up toward where youâre aching. âstart slow, baby,â you breathe, thighs trembling. âkiss it, then tongueâflat and wide.âÂ
he obeys like itâs the only thing he was born to do.
lips brush your foldsâhesitant, reverentâthen his tongue comes out, one broad, filthy lick from your entrance to your clit that punches the air out of your lungs. you immediately roll your hips into his face shamelessly.
âfuckâyesâjust like thatâsuck my clit nowââ
and sunghoon doesnât need to be told twice. he devours youânose bumping your mound, tongue sloppy and urgent, latching onto your clit with a perfect amount of greed that it pulls a small scream from your throat. heâs messyâchin slick, eyes glassy as he glances up through his lashes for approval, moaning into you every time you tug his hair like heâs on the receiving end.Â
âmmphâgood?â he mumbles into you, the vibration nearly sending you over, and thenâwithout waitingâhe sinks one long finger back inside you, curls it hard, and starts pumping like you taught him.
âoh my godâsunghoon, fuckâyesââÂ
your ankles lock behind his head, heels digging into his back, and you ride his face without shameâhips rolling, grinding, fucking yourself on his tongue while he devours you, thriving on every gasp, every quiver, tongue delving deep, lips sucking with starvation. like itâs his last meal and his punishment and his salvation all at once.
sunghoonâs free hand then drops between his own legs âwraps around his aching cock and starts stroking in frantic, sloppy pulls, hips thrusting into his fist in time with the way youâre riding his face. pre-cum drips onto the floor, splattering the wood, and he doesnât even careâjust moans into your cunt like a broken thing, eyes rolling back every time you clench around his finger.
you force yourself up on shaking elbows just to look at the view.
sunghoon on his knees, hair wrecked from your hands, face buried between your thighs, skin slick with sweat that catches in the dim light, mouth shiny with you, pumping his cock recklesslyâand those dark, glassy eyes flicking up through wet lashes, begging for approval even as his tongue fucks you into oblivion.
the sight alone almost ends you.
so you decide youâre going to ruin him. and heâs going to thank you for it.
âhoonâfuckâcome here,â you haul him up by the hair until his mouth slams into yours, slick with your release, tasting like salt and sin. you feel the heavy, slick weight of his cock pressing against your thigh, twitching wildly with need.
you shove him back with a teasing palm to his chestâflip him in one sharp twistâand he goes down easy, hitting the mattress with a small grunt, eyes huge and black as he puts together whatâs about to happen. you straddle him in a heartbeat later, knees digging into the sheets on either side of his hips, hovering just high enough that your soaked heat brushes the flushed head of himâonce, twiceâdrawing a needy, high-pitched whine that rips straight from his chest.
his cock lines up perfectlyâthrobbing, veins bulging, slick with both of youâand he bites his lip bloody trying to hold back the whimper, hands shaking violently where they clamp your waist for dear life. âwaitâshitâi donât have a condomââ
âsunghoon,â you shoot, voice raw and impatient, already lifting your hips to torture him at your entrance, sinking down just enough to swallow his tip in tight, wet heat. âi really donât fucking care right now.â
his head slams back against the headboard with a thud, a raw moan tearing free as his hips jerk up involuntarily, trying to bury himself deeper.
âjust wanna make you feel good, yeah?â
he nods wildly, eyes pleadingâutterly lost, wrecked, and completely yours. âpleaseâfuck, yes pleaseââ
you donât wait any longer. you drop, sinking down fully in one brutal, merciless move. and the stretchâthe sweet, burning stretch of him splitting you open has you both gasping, the pent up tension thatâs piled up for days finally shattering into a pure ecstasy that has you blinded.
he fills you to the brim, thick and pulsing, every inch dragging against your clenching walls as you bottom out, your hips now flush against his. you canât make sense of itâhow heâs stretching you impossibly wide, the burn delicious and overwhelming all at once, your body fluttering around him in desperate adjustment. his head snaps back against your headboard again, his throat exposed and veins bulging as he canât stop the deep moans coming from his chest, hands clamping onto your hipsâbruising, possessive, the only way to keep himself grounded.
you collapse forward, forehead to his, breaths mingling in hot, frantic pants. his eyes are squeezed shut, lashes wet against his pinked cheeks, lips opening and closing from the pure pleasure, âoh my godâyouâreâŚfuck youâreâso tightââ the words tumble out, his hips twitching up, chasing the sensation, making you both gasp at the jolt.
âshhâstay still,â you whisper as best as you can, hands holding his face to force his glassy eyes open. and you have to collect yourself for a second. because park sunghoon is a visionâlips swollen red, pupils dark and blown, sweat trickling down his temple. âbreathe, hoon.â you clench around him deliberately, and he tries his hardest not to snap immediately, his cock throbbing deep inside you.Â
âcâcanâtâitâs too muchâgonnaââ his voice cracks, hands scrabbling at your waist, dragging you down harder even as his thighs shake violently under you, every muscle rigid, restraint shattering second by second. heâs pulsing inside you, fighting with everything he has not to cum, teeth gritted, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes because itâs too good, too perfect, too much.Â
you lift your hips carefully, just an inch, then sink back down, slow, torturous, letting him feel every slick of you swallowing him whole. âfuckâyesââ his eyes roll back, mouth falling open on a silent moan, his hips bucking up to meet you halfway on their own, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing loud and filthy. âtell meâfuck, tell me if it feels goodââ
âperfect, baby. you feel perfect,â you gasp immediately, voice trembling as you finally start movingâhands braced on his sweat-slick chest, nails carving red lines into his skin. âjust like thisâharder now, hold my hipsâhelp meââ
and he doesâfingers pressing as he hauls you down onto his cock as he suddenly slams up, meeting your movements in brutal, punishing thrusts that turn the air filthy, wet slaps echoing, obscene, and unrelenting. the bed starts to creak in protest beneath you, the string lights on your headboard blurring into hazy streaks as the pleasure turns into tears stinging your eyes.Â
âhoon, yes, yesâfaster,â your voice breaks into sobs, head tipping back, spine arching so hard your breasts shove up into his face.Â
he absolutely loses it.Â
heâs seventy percent sure heâs blacked outâthe rest of him drowning in the symphony of your broken whines, the way your pussy sucks him in like itâs starving, the intoxicating sensation of you around himâevery wet clench, every flutter squeezing him. but heâs still determined, feral with it, a man suddenly possessedâone hand flying up to palm one of your breasts hard, rolling the nipple rough enough between his fingers to draw a small yelp from you, the other shoving between your bodies to rub messy, perfect circles over your swollen clit.
 âsâso tightâfuck, so mine,â he chokes out, voice breaking on every thrust. âmine, mine, mineâfuckâplease sayââÂ
his thrusts turn erratic, sloppy, with a new found determination as he chases his release, eyes locked on where he splits you openâyou stretched around him, white slick coating his thighs, his balls, every inch of skin where you two collide.
âyours,â you moan, nails digging further into his chest. âbeen yours ever since you hit me in the fucking face, baby.â
and that does it. sunghoon just breaks.Â
back arching off the bed, whole body spasming, a strangled cry of your name tearing from his throat as as you feel him cum hard, his cock pulsing and swelling impossibly thicker inside you, the harsh and hot spurts filling you up quickly. the heat of it, the throb, the way he jerks inside you shatters you instantly after.Â
your second orgasm hits you with a sob against his mouth, clamping down viciously around him, milking him dry as you gushâviolent, soaking pulses that drench his cock, his lap, the sheets, everything in a hot, filthy flood that leaves you shaking, blinded, ruined.
you collapse togetherâboneless, shuddering wrecks tangled in the sweat damp sheets that now cling to your skin. his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his chest, his cock still twitching deep inside as the aftershock ripples through you both. the room spins softly in the dim glow of your lights, the only sounds the distant party you both forgot about and your breathes mingling in a ragged harmonyâhis chest heaving against yours, heartbeats syncing in a frantic yet slowing pattern.
sunghoon buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips brushing sloppy, uncoordinated kisses, trying his best to catch his breath, each exhale hot against your skin.
âdid iâwas that okay? are you hurt anywhere?â voice small, vulnerable again despite the literal fact that heâs still buried deep inside you, his release leaking warm and sticky down your thighs, pooling beneath you in an intimate, filthy reminder. his hand moves to stroke your back gently, tracing the curves of your body as if mapping every inch for damage.
you giggle against him, the sound exhausted yet euphoric, vibrating through your chest as you lift his chin with a single finger, tilting his flushed face to yours. the kiss is soft, slow, lingeringâtongues lazy and unhurried, a stark contrast to a few minutes ago, tasting all like salt and sex. âhoon, i think you ruined me,â you murmur against his lips, half-teasing, half-serious, your voice strained from the moans he pulled from you.
he lets out a small, relieved laugh, warm and genuine as his hands stay gentle on your back, thumbs circling soothing patterns over your damp skin. you shift slowly, lifting off him with ease, both of you exhaling in a sharp unison at the sudden emptiness.
you donât pull away far, nestling into his side, draping a leg over his thigh as he tugs your crumpled up blanket over you both. his arm curls around your shoulders, his fingers tracing lazy swirls along your arm, the touch sweet and affectionate.
âruined you, huh?â he echos after a beat, voice muffled as he presses a kiss to your temple, lips curving into a shy grin against your hair. âis thatâŚgood ruined or bad ruined? because if itâs bad, i swear iâll make it up to youâafter i make up for your nose. and shoes. and clothes. iâve got a lifetime supply of apologies, honestly.â
you snort softly, cuddling closer into his neck, inhaling the comfort and warmth radiating off of him as your fingers dance lightly over his chest. âgood ruined, idiot. like, the kind where i might not be able to physically get up tomorrow. so now you owe me at least breakfast in bed.â
âdeal.â sunghoon chuckles, the sound vibrating through you both, his free hand slipping under the blanket to find yours, lacing your fingers in a loose, effortless hold. âpancakes? orâwait, do you even like pancakes? god, i donât even know that yet. we should probably fix that before i ruin you again.â
you tilt your head up, eyes narrowing playfully before a small smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, âbaby, is that your way of asking me out?â
his laugh melts into a groan as he buries his face into your hair again, arms tightening around you as he pulls you impossibly closer, bodies fitting perfectly together, âkeep calling me baby like that and weâre skipping the pancake dateâiâm just gonna ruin you all over again.â
your grin widens as you lift a brow at him, a mix of teasing and challenge written all over your face. then, your hand begins its slow, deliberate descent, fingers trailing a lazy path down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, your eyes watching his adamâs apple bob with a hard swallow, his breath catching in anticipation as your hand moves lower and lower.
you part your lips just enough, voice laced sweetly with promise: âdeal, baby.â
and after that night, everything kind of falls into an abnormally normal rhythm.
sunghoon did get you pancakesâbecause heâs a man of promises.
but not until after he ruined you a second time, because, wellâŚheâs a man of promises.
he eventually makes up for the other accidents too. he starts knocking on your door at 8:03AM every morningâtwo coffees balancing in one hand, a paper bag of something warm in the other, hoodie string still uneven but now on a different hoodie because he let you keep that other one. he starts showing upâafter class to drive you home with him, in your texts to ask you which cereal he should buy for the week, in your kitchen, handing you clean dishes while pretending not to stare at the way you hum along to whatever song is playing.Â
he starts showing up in parts of your life where you didn't even know he was missing but now that heâs here, you never want to go back.Â
and through it all, sunghoon learns you. he learns that you canât drink iced coffee without stirring it exactly three times first, that you sometimes talk in your sleep, that you always pick the m&ms out of trail mix, that you hate parallel parking but love late night drives, that you laugh with your whole face, and that someway, somehow, between the pancakes and drives and mornings and the softnessâyouâve managed to carve out a permanent place in his life without either of you really meaning to.
so yeah. everything becomes accidentally abnormal after that night.
sunghoon still wakes up on time like he always doesâbut now he gets ready faster, just so he can walk ten doors down the hall and meet you before class.
you still sit next to him in chemistry, but now your hand is slyly trailing up his thigh under the bench table while heâs trying (and desperately failing) to measure 25 milliliters of sodium hydroxide without shaking.
when youâre at his apartment, curled up together on the couch, jay walks by and gives sunghoon a look that says finally.
when heâs at your apartment, head resting in your lap, jake walks by and gives you the same look.
itâs all wonderfully, beautifully, accidentally abnormal. which, for you and sunghoon, feels just right.
so, yeahâthey say you never forget your firsts.
your first love, your first kiss, your first time.
for park sunghoon? heâll never forget the first time he met you.
and honestly?
he kind of really hopes he never will.
ęŠď˝Ąâš ࣪ Ë ty all again if u made it to the end <3 mwahmwahmwah
SYNOPSIS: ask the cute guy working at your local LP store what his favourite track is, and he'll always change his answer. but with every new answer you get a new story to back up his choice, allowing you to get to know him â allowing you to get a taste of sun.
FEATURING: lee haechan x female reader
UPDATES: every friday, starting september 12. subject to change depending on the word count of each piece.
TAGLIST: join HERE for your preferred title, or reply to this post but please mention the fic you want to be tagged in, otherwise i'll assume you want to be tagged in all.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: happy HOLO month! i used to pray for times like this and i can't believe we're almost there! this series is going to be my main priority for the month of september. these are all written fics with titles inspired from michael jackson's discography. the fics below might not be posted in this particular order. all fics are female reader insert. MORE UNDER THE CUT!
ÂŠď¸ KONGJJEN 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.
SYNOPSIS: captain of the football team, lee haechan claims he has it all. but he doesn't have you, who's always been so unattainable, yet somehow you still end up dating the student body president and his rival. but he's not one to give up easily because he knows he always gets what he wants, and your boyfriend should definitely feel threatened by him.
PAIRING: athlete!haechan x female reader
GENRE: college au, enemies to ? au, love triangle!au, angst, smut, cheating!au
WORD COUNT: 23.5K
READ HERE
SYNOPSIS: lee haechan never thought he would be one to ever settle down. but then there's you in his life, and numerous slip ups lead to his life changing completely. but now the question is, are you willing to settle down with him, or will he let you get away?
PAIRING: fwb!haechan x female reader
GENRE: pregnancy!au, fwb to ?, smut, angst, fluff
WORD COUNT: estimated +15k words
RELEASE DATE: SEPT 19
SYNOPSIS: there's not much you need to do to make lee haechan, your husband, swoon over you. you could threaten him, you could ignore him, and that's the worst part of all ăź because no matter how many times you remind him that you're not in love with him, somehow you always manage to give him butterflies.
PAIRING: ceo!haechan x female corporate lawyer!reader
GENRE: (arranged) marriage!au, fluff, angst, smut
WORD COUNT: estimated +18k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: losing your previous job makes you apply for the first available role at a big company. a role that you can only hope to be temporary, because your boss is an insufferable idiot who makes your life a living hell. all because he thinks he's unbreakable ăź until he isn't.
PAIRING: ceo!haechan x female personal assistant!reader
GENRE: enemies to ? au, angst, more to be announced!
WORD COUNT: estimated +20k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: it doesn't matter how many times you tried working things out with lee haechan, you just had to move on for your own good. but that's exactly when haechan wants you the most, when he can't have you ăź and it doesn't matter how many times he's begging and pleading now, you're just invincible.
PAIRING: situationship!haechan x female reader
GENRE: angst, smut, situationship to ? au
WORD COUNT: estimated +10k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: lee haechan ăź beloved retired prosecutor ruins his own career with his big mouth. as his lawyer, you have to save his career, or what's left of it, and you rock his world while trying to do so.
PAIRING: tv personality!haechan x female lawyer!reader
GENRE: enemies to lovers!au, fluff, comedy, smut
WORD COUNT: estimated 18k words
RELEASE DATE: SEPT 26
SYNOPSIS: what does a pretty young thing such as yourself do on the streets of jeju? haechan is determined to find out ăź and after you realise your moving away from the city feels lonelier than you had previously anticipated, will you allow him to get closer to you?
PAIRING: jeju boy!haechan x city girl!reader
GENRE: strangers to friends to ? au, fluff, more to be announced!
WORD COUNT: estimated 12k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: lee haechan ăź rich, young and handsome, loves everything new and shiny. you ăź someone who thrifts, doesn't overspend, hates overconsumption, and hates people like lee haechan and everything they represent. you're everything haechan has always avoided, but opposites attract and you drive him wild.
PAIRING: rich!haechan x unconventional!reader
GENRE: enemies to lovers!au, smut, comedy
WORD COUNT: estimated 15k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: travelling by yourself doesn't sound so bad when you befriend the cute stranger you meet on the plane. too many days, and definitely too many nights spent together up to the break of dawn with him. but will you also go back home with him?
PAIRING: stranger!haechan x female reader
GENRE: smut, strangers to ?, angst, hurt & comfort
WORD COUNT: estimated +15k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: trying to corrupt you, the good girl who has always lived life the way her parents dictated, lee haechan discovers there's a side of you no one has ever seen before. with you not being who he thought you were, it makes him realise you're just another part of him.
PAIRING: bad boy!haechan x good girl!reader
GENRE: opposites attract!au, angst, more to be announced!
WORD COUNT: estimated 10k words
RELEASE DATE: coming soon!
SYNOPSIS: lee haechan discovers just how much he cares about you only when his buttons are being pushed. the feelings are too strong, too hard to navigate, and too hard to understand while he feels like he's being haunted by something far heavier than anything he's ever experienced before ăź the ghost of jealousy.
PAIRING: situationship!haechan x female reader
GENRE: situationship to ? au, angst, smut, more to be announced!
đđ welcome to the dream fraternity! seven dreamy boys, seven absolutely cheesy love stories where youâre the main character! warning: you might hate yourself during the processâŚbut whatâs love without a little chaos?
contains 18+ content
I. STUPID CUPID
pairing: na jaemin x art major! reader
synopsis -> mr. cupid â anonymous radio host. running the #1 most popular radio show on campus. famous for his thoughtful advice and classified as a true hopeless romantic. na jaemin â photography major, the sweet fuck-boy. described to be affectionate and gentleâŚbut donât fall for his tactics! once heâs done with you, heâs gone with the wind. your best friend unfortunately happened to be on the receiving end of this. what happens when you find out that the anonymous radio host is none other than na jaemin himself? sweet revenge.
II. FLYING KISS
pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader
synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who canât even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. whoâs better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be sexy?
III. SORRY, HEART
pairing: friends with benefits! mark lee x tutor! reader
synopsis -> sex helps him focus. focus he needs for your tutoring sessions. it was a win-win for mark lee when you proposed to add a stress-relief session to the schedule. the favorite fuckboy and the girl who doesnât believe in love equals the ultimate friends with benefits set-up. itâs the perfect dream team! but uh ohâŚit seems like mark has been shot by cupidâs arrow. will mark survive all of your attempts at pushing him away?
IV. IRREPLACEABLE
pairing: enemy! lee haechan x ex bff! reader
synopsis -> lee haechan, theatre major, absolutely hated your guts. you felt the same exact way. the only girl in this whole university that hasnât fallen for the most popular fuckboyâs charms. which is why it sucks that you have both landed the main roles in the theaterâs upcoming play, romeo and juliet. what was that saying about love and hate being a thin line?
V. MY FIRST AND LAST
pairing: bff! zhong chenle x fake gf! reader
synopsis -> zhong chenle, the lowkey fuckboy, captain of the basketball team, doesnât believe in romance. flowers? chocolates? handwritten letters? ew. too cheesy. but he canât seem to shake this crazy girl off of him so he goes to you, his best friend, cheerleading captain, for help. will you be his fake girlfriend? sure. the catch? it has to be believable so for the first time in his life he buys the flowers and the chocolate and writes the handwritten letters.
VI. BREATHING [NEW]
pairing: fuckboy! jisung x convenient gf! reader
synopsis -> park jisung has sworn off love after being cheated on. heâs been doing a really great job breaking hearts and not looking back. the boys are worried that theyâve taken fuckboy101 too seriously and have now created the ultimate fuckboy. this conversation was heard by your group of friends who never backs away from a challenge. and so the bets are on: get the ultimate fuckboy to fall in love with you and youâll get $125 from each friend. deal?
VII. I HATE FRUITS [IN PROGRESS]
pairing: art major! renjun x TBA reader
synopsis -> huang renjun, the fuckboy by association, couldnât care less about romantic relationships. heâs perfectly fine with being single â prefers it, actually. when he accidentally drops a box on your head and you wake up with temporary amnesia, heâs forced to finally take care of a person other than his own self. whatâs worse? you think heâs your boyfriend.
đđ
EXTRAs: loverboy links (18+ only)
authors note: this is a work of fiction only and should not be taken seriously. the way the dream boys are portrayed in these stories are obviously not a representation of who they are in real life. thank you and have fun reading!
this post will be updated along the way -> likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated âŚďžâĄď¸
if u would like to be tagged when a story is up please do let me know :3
â . . . SYNOPSISá° things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own bossâ which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.
â . . . NOTESá° just wanted to post this for fun lol. this has been sitting inside my vault for over 3 years now just waiting to be published. now i'm not exactly too sure when i want to start uploading for this cuz i still have one other ongoing smau but we shall see..
CHAPTERS á°.á
âş PROLOGUE âŕŞ
âş INTRODUCTION
âş ONE á° HIRED âŕŞ
âş TWO á° SINCE WHEN?
âş THREE á° THE REAL DEAL âŕŞ
âş FOUR á° I THINK I HATE MY BOSS
âş FIVE á° I STAND CORRECTED
âş SIX á° BEEN A WEEK
âş SEVEN á° LUNCH
âş EIGHT á° TIMES NEW ROMAN
âş NINE á° CLEAR MY SCHEDULE
âş TEN á° JEJU BOUND
âş ELEVEN á° WHY IS MY BOSS KINDA HOT âŕŞ
âş TWELVE á° PR CRISIS
âş THIRTEEN á° PROFESSIONAL âŕŞ
âş FOURTEEN á° RISE AND GRIND
âş FIFTEEN á° AFTER WORK HOURS âŕŞ
âş SIXTEEN á° A MONTH âŕŞ
âş SEVENTEEN á° SAVE YOUR TEARS
âş EIGHTEEN á° GOOD JOB âŕŞ
âş NINETEEN á° COMPETENT âŕŞ
âş TWENTY á° PUNNY
âş TWENTY ONE á° OVERCOMPENSATING âŕŞ
âş TWENTY TWO á° CONVINCED
âş TWENTY THREE á° LITTLE MIX
âş TWENTY FOUR á° RAISE
âş TWENTY FIVE á° MODERN LIVING, ZHONG STANDARD âŕŞ
âş TWENTY SIX á° LIAISON OFFICER
âş TWENTY SEVEN á° FEEDBACK DECK
âş TWENTY EIGHT á° RULE NUMBER ONE
âş TWENTY NINE á° GET IN âŕŞ
âş THIRTY á° NEW SEATS
âş THIRTY ONE á° PAY ME BACK âŕŞ
âş THIRTY TWO á° CHAUFFEUR âŕŞ
âş THIRTY THREE á° JUST SUGGESTING âŕŞ
âş THIRTY FOUR á° TGIF
when you first started dating jeno, he would be really shy on facetimes/video calls with you. keeping the phone camera at an appropriate distance from his face and keeping things very demure.
but after months of dating and many many calls, jeno has gotten very comfortable. he would bring his face close to the camera and smile or do silly faces into the camera. it always makes you laugh and you would tease him for being annoying. but when he's abroad and he would bring the camera close to his face, it made you a little sad because it made you miss him more than ever.
when he's up close to the camera, you can see all the features of his face that you love the most. the mole next to his eye, the mole on his nose, the light in his eyes, his smile lines, his nose scrunches, his neck... the feeling of missing him so deeply would be so strong, that it would bring you to the verge of tears. you even cried on a call with him once, sobbing in between your words, "i just miss you."
a similar feeling was happening now.
"babe, back up from the camera, i can't do this right now" you say teasingly (but also seriously cuz you could cry right now).
"why~" jeno says bringing the camera even closer to his face.
you fall silent and decide to just appreciate his face up close like this. jeno smiles and chuckles lightly at your lack of an answer.
"i wish i could time travel so i can see you right now instead of in a week," you mumble and pout.
"maybe you should close your eyes for a second and pretend i'm there."
"no," you deadpan.
"come on, just for 30 seconds." jeno nags.
you roll your eyes and go along with jeno's antics. but suddenly, you hear a knock on your door which makes you jump.
"omg that scared me," you whisper, "someone's at my door."
"this late? keep me on the line," jeno says with concern.
you trod over to your door and look through the peephole on your door. your gasp is audible from your own phone as you quickly open the door to see your boyfriend standing on the other side of your door.
your jaw drops before you throw yourself at your boyfriend.
"wow my girlfriend can time travel" jeno smiles as you kiss all over the face you've been loving only thru a screen for weeks.
âşËâ・°âŠââŠÂ°ď˝ĄâËâş
a/n: i saw a compilation of up-close jeno that inspired this but i lost the video </3
đŽ preview. When you first met Hyuck in the elevator, youâd thought he was nothing more than some fuckboy line chef. But now, you see a deeper side of him. Heâs thoughtful and caring, a little chaotic in the best way, but willing to calm down and match your pace. And to top it all off, heâs hot as fuck.
tw/cw. protected sex (for probably the first time ever), gentle/slow build-up sex, oral/pussy eating, slight praise, slight dirty talk, reader hasnât been fucked in a while, low-key wholesome sex with a reformed fuckboy because youâre now cat co-parents, etc⌠I pet names: (hers) gorgeous.
đš rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.8kÂ
đ aus. Restaurant au, neighbors to lovers, accidental fur baby co-parents, etcâŚ
âď¸ mlist + an. Fresco, meaning a painting done rapidly in watercolor on wet plaster on a wall or ceiling, so that the colors penetrate the plaster and become fixed as it dries. - Alternative; Alfresco, meaning a meal eaten outside âin the fresh airâ - fresco is Italian for âfresh,â and the culinary usage is relatively common in English. this fic is in conjunction with Real Talk and Comfort Cuisine.
Prologue:
Youâre a little shocked to hear a knock at your door around one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. As something of a recluse professional artist, you donât get many visitors. One look out the peephole reveals that your surprise guest is a neighbor, one Lee Donghyuck from two units down.Â
âHyuck?â you ask as you open the door. âIs something wrong?â
âI found a cat!â Hyuck whisper screams as he holds open his jacket, revealing a tiny, orange puffball, who immediately meows at you. âCan I come in?â
Youâre so taken aback by this whole interaction that you donât have it within you to argue, you simply step aside and let the frazzled line cook into your apartment.
âOkay, I donât have much time,â Donghyuck explains. âMy chef is going to kill me for taking the longest vape break ever-â
âSlow down,â you laugh.
âLook, I went for a vape break, I found this kitten by the dumpster, I jumped in my car and came here.â
âItâs a no-pet apartment building,â you point out.Â
âCan you just take care of him for the day? While I figure this out?â Hyuck pleads.Â
âDonât you have other friends in the building?â
âNo one whoâs home all day like you are- come on, itâs a kitten, it needs someone around or itâs going to be screaming super loud and then the landlord will hear it and evict me-â
âWhat about a shelter?â
âI donât have time to look up no-kill shelters, and besides, you know how the cat distribution system works!âÂ
âFine,â you sigh, gazing at the purring ball of fur. âWhat time are you off work.â
âAround nine,â Hyuck responds, holding the kitten out for you. âYouâre doing me a huge favor.â
âJust this once, while you figure the whole situation out.â
One:Â
Youâre doing your best to continue working, but the kitten has been a bit of a menace the entire day. You suppose this orange fur ball is a bit like Hyuck that way, not that you know your neighbor very well, but you have a sense for him. Hyuck has to be a little chaotic to turn up on your doorstep with a kitten he found by the dumpster, but the flip side of this whole thing is that Hyuck is showing a lot of tenderness to have cared about this cat at all.
You work as much as you can, but when the kitten starts crying, you decide to call it a day.
Thereâs a can of tuna in your pantry, the type thatâs in water from when you were on a health kick a month ago, and you spoon it onto a little plate for the orange kitten.
Heâs eager to eat it all up, making an obnoxious yet endearing gnawing sound as he decimates all the tuna.
When heâs finished, you lift the little cat up into your arms, taking him to your couch to rest while you put on a show.
The little trooper is exhausted, and a food coma comes quickly.
He lays on your lap, napping and purring and relaxing, and you canât help but enjoy the little fur ballâs presence. He calms you, and before you even know it, itâs nine, and a knock at your door signals Hyuckâs return.
You lift up the orange kitten, carrying him to your door. Hyuck enters your apartment with a sigh.
âHow was my child?â he asks, immediately reaching out to take the cat from your hands.
âHe wasnât too bad, I fed him a can of tuna. Heâll probably be good till the morning, but youâve got to figure out what youâre doing with him.â
âYeah, Iâm still thinking about that,â Hyuck groans. âThanks for the help today.â
âDonât mention it, seriously.â
âIâve gotta get home, Iâm exhausted from work, and Iâm guessing youâve got things to do.â
You donât have anything in particular on your schedule, but itâs not like you and Hyuck are very close, so you let him leave. It feels a little odd to look at your empty apartment once heâs gone- sure, youâd only had the kitten for nine or so hours, but⌠heâd livened up the space a little, in a way you canât quite explain.
You go back to your couch, letting out a sigh as you turn your show back on.
Not fifteen minutes later thereâs a knock at your door, and for the third time today, Lee Donghyuck enters your apartment.
âHe wouldnât stop crying for you!â Hyuck explains, handing the squirming kitten over to you. âMaybe he thinks youâre his mom now!â
âHyuck,â you sigh. âYouâve got to sort this out.â
âI was thinking⌠can you⌠can you take him to the vet tomorrow?â
âThe vet?â
âYou know, make sure heâs not tagged or anything?â
âMake sure heâs not tagged?â you ask. âYouâre hoping heâs a stray?âÂ
âIf heâs a stray then I get to keep him,â Hyuck states.Â
âAgain, this is a no-pet building.â
âEveryone says that, but I know for a fact that Mrs. Sue on the fifth floor has some mega old and dying Persian, and Iâm pretty sure the nonbinary couple next to me have some calico thatâs missing a tail-â
âWhat?â
âIt got out one day, I saw it scratching at their door. Have you really not seen any cats in the building?â
âI donât go out much,â you admit.
âThe point is, people have cats, they just hide them.â
You release a sigh. âI think there should be an emphasis on the word cats, not kittens, who are substantially louder and need more attention.â
âWellâŚâ Hyuck gazes down at his feet. âYou work from home.â
âSo what, this is our cat now?âÂ
âIt could be,â the line chef muses. âI mean, look at him, heâs obsessed with you!â
The orange kitten is purring like an engine in your arms, making softies against your chest, and you have to admit, itâs clear heâs taken with you, perhaps as taken as you are with him.
âFine,â you relent. âIâll take him to the vet tomorrow. Weâll see if heâs tagged, and weâll work it out from there.â
âYouâre literally a lifesaver.â
Two:Â
The lunch rush is over, and Hyuck has time to think about you while heâs prepping for dinner. His coworker, Mark, is beside him, and Hyuck can feel his gaze.
âYou good?â the tattooed softie of a chef asks.
Hyuck sighs. âJust thinking.â
âAbout what?â
About you. How youâre the girl next door, the artist, the visionary, the lifesaver-
âI found a cat by the dumpster yesterday,â Hyuck admits.
âWhat?â
âMy neighbor is taking care of it right now, and I guess weâll find out if itâs chipped or not.â
âIsnât your building like, a no-pets sort of thing?â Mark asks.
âThatâs more a guideline than a rule,â Hyuck explains. âBesides, itâs a tiny cat that weighs two pounds, not some dog.â
Mark only shakes his head, continuing to cut carrots.
âIâm thinking I want to give the cat a name thatâs related to food and art.â
âWhy art?â
âBecause my neighbor is an artist.âÂ
âThatâs cool, have I heard of his work?â
âMy neighbor is a she, Mark, god, youâre so sexist.âÂ
Mark stops what heâs doing, turning to face Donghyuck. âNow I get it. I bet you think sheâs cute.â
âSheâs super cute.â
Releasing a sigh, Mark rests his hands on the cutting board in front of him. âNames that are related to art and food. I guess you could do colors that are foods. Like, clementine or olive or something.â
âThat feels too food driven, I want like, an artsy name.âÂ
âLet me think about it,â Mark sighs.
The two continue to work, and at the end of their shift, Mark pulls Hyuck to the side. âThereâs only really one super artsy name I can think of, and itâs Fresco.â
Hyuck has no idea what Fresco means, but something about it speaks to him. Without a second thought, Hyuck blurts out, âItâs perfect!â and he promises himself to look it up before he drives home.Â
Three:Â
Hyuck is practically buzzing as he arrives at your apartment, but he forces himself to rein in the excitement. âHow was the vet visit?â he asks.
âYou got your wish, he wasnât chipped. The vet guessed heâs a stray, born on the streets, that sort of thing,â you explain, cuddling the kitten close to your chest as you speak. âI figured you might not have time to grab provisions for him, so I got some cans of food, a litter box, some toys-â
âReally?!â Hyuck immediately reaches into his pants to pull out his wallet, removing some cash, which he thrusts out toward you. âThank you so much for the help!â
With a shake of your head, you accept the money. âI donât know if youâve thought this whole thing through.â
âHeâs our cat now, the distribution system is never wrong.â
You laugh, but the chuckle turns into a sigh. âOur cat, huh?âÂ
âI was thinking, if you donât mind, he can stay with you during the days when Iâm at work, then Iâll have him when Iâm here, you know, like a child of divorce or something.â
The way you blink at him tells Hyuck you donât find his words to be that amusing, but he can see youâre up for the task. Itâs clear to him that you have fallen in love with the kitten, and Hyuck would be lying if he said he wasnât excited about the prospect of a dual ownership- after all, it would mean the two of you would see each other more often.Â
âI guess we can make this work, but if the building manager finds out, Iâm blaming all of this on you,â you warn.
âIâll take full responsibility.â
âSo⌠I guess now you just have to name him.â
âI was thinking about that!â Hyuck blurts out, unable to hide his excitement anymore. âWhat about Fresco?â
âFresco?â
âI came up with it myself,â Hyuck lies, wanting to impress you. âFresco is an art term right? Something about painting plaster?â
âRapidly and somewhat erratically, yes,â you laugh.
âAnd Alfresco is Italian for eating food outside, like, fresh air, or something,â Hyuck explains, doing his best to remember the brief research heâd done on the word before knocking on your door.
âSo itâs an artsy food name,â you muse with a smile.
âAn artsy food name,â Hyuck agrees.
âI kind of love it.â
Four:Â
You suppose you should be used to Hyuck knocking on your door by now, but for some reason, it always comes as a surprise.
He steps into your apartment with a grin, holding Fresco in one hand, and a six-pack of beer in the other. âItâs my day off,â he announces. âDo you wanna hang out?â
You look him up and down, shaking your head and laughing. âIâm working.â
âPainting something?â
âI guess you can come see.â
âWe wonât bother you too much, I promise,â Hyuck tells you as he follows you through your apartment to your little art office space. When his eyes land on your canvas, he lets out a whistle. âSo youâre an artist artist?âÂ
âI get paid for it, so yes,â you giggle.
âYouâve got the whole setup,â Hyuck muses, immediately heading for the small couch in the corner. When heâd first dropped Fresco off, the kitten had fallen asleep on this couch, and it seems his owner is just as able to make any place into his own home.
Hyuck collapses onto the sofa, immediately cracking open a beer. âCan I watch you paint?â
Youâre not one for having others watch you do your craft, but Hyuck - as it turns out - is extremely hard for you to say no to.
âJust donât make any comments about what I could be doing better,â you warn him.
âI donât know anything about art, so you donât have to worry about that,â he assures you.Â
âSome people donât know anything and they still make comments,â you muse.
âThen theyâre stupid.â Hyuck takes a swig of his beer, stroking Fresco as the kitten gets settled on his lap.
You pick up where you left off with the art piece, and Hyuck is quiet. He drinks his beer, pets Fresco, and scrolls on his phone, but after a while, your curiosity gets the better of you.
âHave you owned cats before?â you ask.
âNot really.â
âWell, youâre good with them. I never would have pictured you as a cat guy, itâs giving maternal.â
Hyuck lets out a laugh. âIf you didnât peg me as a cat guy, what did you peg me as?â
âHonestly? A fuckboy?â
âEveryone says that.â Hyuck shakes his head.
âSo youâre saying itâs not true?âÂ
âI mean⌠maybe in the past, Iâve been a bit of a fuck boy. But, everyone around me is in these long-term relationships, and I guess these days I want commitment, even if that commitment is with a cat and not a girl.â
You consider his words, and as you do so, Fresco gets up. He approaches a few of your finished canvases, smelling them carefully. You and Hyuck both watch him as he begins to pur, clearly enjoying the colors.
âHe likes your art,â Hyuck grins.Â
âHe has good taste.â
The two of you continue to chat while you work, and after a while, both Hyuck and Fresco pass out on the couch.
You note the way theyâre bathed in the sun, and with a sigh, you put your current project to the side in favor of a blank canvas.
Itâs rare to have a person, or an animal for that matter, sit still long enough for you to paint them, and something tells you both Fresco and Hyuck are tuckered out for the long haul.Â
You enjoy painting them, taking in every detail, and the creativity comes as easy as ever with the two of them as your muse.Â
Five:Â
You and Hyuck have something of an understanding now. Itâs been two weeks. Hyuck works, you take care of Fresco, and when heâs off, the line chef comes straight to your house to see your shared fur baby.Â
The kitten has truly become your muse, and youâre enjoying the art of drawing this rambunctious cat.
Itâs around nine oâclock, youâve got a glass of wine, and youâre just putting the finishing touches on your recent Fresco piece, which is when Hyuck knocks at your door.
Youâd unlocked your apartment an hour ago, and one call âCome in!â has Hyuck entering. He lets out a whistle as he sees the canvas. âHoly shit, thatâs good!â
âI know, right?â You canât help the grin on your face. Youâve been testing out different methods, watercolors, acrylics, more abstracts- this one is more of a splatter piece, where youâd painted Fresco in funky colors, and then splattered it, youâd even dusted the canvas with glitter, spraying it with hairspray to get it to stick as an adhesive.Â
âI feel like youâve captured his chaotic essence,â Hyuck laughs.
âHeâs not so chaotic right now,â you muse, looking at the kitten whoâs tuckered out on the couch.
âDo you want me to take him home? Or⌠do you want to watch a movie or something?â
You look Hyuck up and down. âThat sort of sounds like a date.â
âI mean⌠these past few weeks weâve kind of been having little dates, right? I mean- I want to ask you on a real one, but we canât leave Fresco aloneâŚâ
âNo, dates here sound nice,â you nod. âIâve got wine, if you go and wash up, grab some beer, it can be a date when you get back.âÂ
âReally?â His eyes practically bulge out of his head.
âYeah, why not.â
âIâll be right back,â Hyuck promises, nearly tripping over himself to run to the door.
Heâs an odd one, but you kind of love it.Â
Six:Â
Hyuckâs not one for dates, but thereâs something very comfortable about a stay-at-home sort of situation. The two of you are used to each otherâs company, and the ease that Hyuck feels isnât something heâs experienced with any other girl in a very long time.
In some ways, this reformed fuck boy is a touch obsessed with you.
Part of him wonders if itâs the joy of the chase- after all, heâs never interacted with a girl this long and not weasled his way into her pants. However, another part of Donghyuck knows his sexual attraction to you isnât the main drive behind this connection.
Thereâs just something about you that he clicks with on a deep level.
He loves your whole art thing and he loves how kind and peaceful you are too.
âYou know, youâre different from most of the girls Iâve gone out with,â Hyuck muses.
âYeah, how so?â
âWell, usually I date within the industry, you know, servers, expo girls, that sort of thing. Theyâre all very⌠I donât know, at work theyâre extroverted. They always know what to say, but sometimes in the past, Iâve wondered if itâs all an act, and itâs made it hard for me to trust them, hard for me to see them as any more than flings.â
âThat sounds like a you problem, Hyuck,â you giggle. âIf you have trust issues, you have to own that, you canât blame it on the women youâve dated who didnât contribute to the original wound that developed into a mistrust of girls.â
Hyuck sits with your words for a moment.Â
âAlso⌠I used to be a server, so are you saying you donât trust me?â
His eyes snap toward you in shock. âReally?â
âJust for a bit,â you shrug. âYouâd be surprised how many people take a stint at serving, especially when theyâre going through uni.â
âI guess thatâs where your charm comes from,â Hyuck says, swallowing thickly. âBet you made big tips.â
You laugh, and the way your face lights up makes Hyuckâs chest feel tight.
The sound wakes up Fresco, who has been sleeping for most of your date. The kitten yawns obnoxiously, stretching out and making biscuits against your leg.Â
âIâve done alright for myself,â you muse, petting the kitten lovingly. âWhich, speaking of, I think itâs about time to call it for the night. Iâve got to wake up early and finish a commission that Iâve been pushing off.â
âRight, yeah.â Hyuck shakes his head to snap himself out of the daze heâs in. âIâll take Fresco and give you some room for your beauty sleep.â
He reaches for the kitten, who cuddles up against his chest, purring loudly as Hyuck makes his way to the door, where Hyuck stops. He turns to you, licking his lips.
âThat was fun.â
âItâs usually fun with you,â you agree.
âCan I⌠do you mind, I mean-â
âYou can kiss me, Hyuck,â you laugh, reading his mind and making him even more flustered- which is odd, because Hyuck never gets flustered.Â
He swallows the lump in his throat, leaning forward. You close the distance, cupping his face so he can press his lips to yours.
Hyuck melts into the kiss, but heâs also aware of the kitten purring diligently between your chests. Youâre both careful not to squish the small creature, and as much as Hyuck wants to kiss you stupid, he holds back. He gets the sense youâre also restricting yourself, and itâs all Hyuck can think about as he heads home.
He could taste the passion on you, and itâs a temptation unlike any other, a need left unsatiated due to circumstance. Â
Seven:Â
âYou seem eager to get out of here,â Mark notes as Hyuck hurries with his closing duties.Â
âGotta get home to see my cat and my neighbor.â
âYour neighbor, you mean the cute girl next door who you somehow talked into taking care of the stray kitten you found.âÂ
Hyuck rolls his eyes. âItâs a dual partnership sort of thing, we both love Fresco.â
âDual partnership,â Mark mutters. âDude, are you like⌠dating this chick?â
Now Hyuck turns to look at Mark, and it takes him a second, but then he simply blurts it out, âYou know what, yeah! I am dating this chick! We have a whole ass child together.â
âYour kitten is not a child,â Mark groans.
âHe cock blocks like one.â
Mark immediately grimaces. âJesus, I did not need to hear that.â Â
Eight:Â
It feels like now that youâve kissed Hyuck, some invisible door has been opened in regard to your relationship. If heâd been tiptoeing around you before, now, heâs uninhibited. He shows up at your place with a bouquet of flowers, and without a second thought, you invite him into your apartment to watch a show while Fresco naps.
While this is only officially date number two, it feels like youâve had a lot of dates- the two of you have been spending many evenings together when Hyuck picks up Fresco after work, itâs just now, these âhangoutsâ have a more specific purpose or designation.Â
Youâre interested in Donghyuck, and your opinion of him has changed drastically in two weeks.
When you first met him in the elevator, youâd thought he was nothing more than some fuckboy line chef. But now, you see a deeper side of him.
Heâs thoughtful and caring, a little chaotic in the best way, but willing to calm down and match your pace.
And to top it all off, heâs hot as fuck.
God, you pour so much of yourself into your art that you havenât really left room for a relationship in a long time. Thereâs a convenience to Hyuck, given that heâs your neighbor, but this whole blossoming relationship isnât just founded on proximity.Â
The cornerstone of all of this is Fresco, if youâre being honest with yourself.
Fresco, the little cat that Hyuck brought into your life because he knew you would open your heart for it. He knew that together, the two of you would be able to take care of this sweet kitten and give him a good life. Existing as something like strangers, Hyuck had been able to see your caring soul, even if youâd been blinded to his kindred heart.
Youâve already ripped the bandaid off with a kiss, and when Hyuck notices you staring at his mouth, he shifts closer.Â
âHi,â he grins.
âHi, yourself,â you giggle.
You watch him swallow a lump in his throat, his gaze flickering down to your lips and then up again. âIâm hoping that kiss wasnât a one-time thing.â
âIt wasnât,â you assure him. âIâm just not used to dating, and making a move has never been my fortè.âÂ
âThen I can make all the moves,â Hyuck chuckles. âWe can go as slow or as fast as you want.â
âI think you know what I want right now.â
Hyuckâs grin widens. âFor a girl who doesnât make moves, that was a pretty sexy move you just made.â
âShut up and kiss me.â
Hyuck can only laugh as he leans forward, cupping your cheek and bringing his lips to your own.
You grab at his shoulders, trying to shift closer- but Fresco is asleep between the two of you, so thereâs only so much room to move.
The kiss turns heated, with Hyuckâs tongue swiping your bottom lip, and you canât help the moan that escapes you.
He feels so good, and the way his hand cups your cheek- thereâs something dominant about it. Hyuckâs clearly confident, and from the way he kisses, he has every right to be.
Youâre drunk from just a bit of kissing, and you can only imagine what full-on sex with this man would be like-
A loud meow makes you jump, and Hyuck lets go of you with a sigh. Both of you look down at Fresco, whoâs now awake, and as rambunctious as ever as he begins to make softies on Hyuckâs thigh.
âCock block,â Hyuck groans, but he begins to pet the small kitten all the same.
You laugh a little, releasing a sigh as you try to calm your racing heart. Maybe youâd needed an interruption because you were about ten seconds from ripping Hyuckâs clothes off, and maybe, just maybe, you should give things with him just a little more time.
Youâre horny after a long period without a relationship, and you want to be sure Hyuckâs right for you before you jump into something with your neighbor, after all, not every romp with the boy next door ends happily, and you very much like this living tension free in this building.Â
Nine:Â
Itâs been a week of making out and getting interrupted by Fresco.
Tonight, youâre in the little studio room. Youâre on the couch sipping wine while Hyuck uses a feather-string toy to tire out the naughty kitten.
Itâs been an hour of playing, and youâre shocked such a tiny animal has so much energy, but you can see it dwindling.
âCome on, Fresco, donât you want a nap?â Hyuck groans, lying on the ground while he flicks the feathered toy here and there for the tiny kitten.
You canât help but laugh at his antics. At this point, Hyuck looks more tired than Fresco does, but thatâs what happens when he works a nine-hour shift. Heâd told you when he arrived that the restaurant was busy today, something about a walk-in twenty top just as happy hour started, and the longest order of appetizers heâs ever seen.Â
Youâre thankful when Fresco finally yawns, and Hyuck practically jumps for joy, picking up his kitten and carrying him to the little bed youâd bought. Hyuck sets Fresco down on the green pillowy fabric, and the kitten immediately stretches, letting out a sigh.
You begin to pet Fresco as Hyuck lets out a sigh, collapsing on the couch and reaching for his beer.
âWho knew having a kitten would be like having a baby.â
âTo be honest, babies might be easier,â you joke, making Hyuck laugh.
âDo you want kids?â he asks, shifting the tone rather suddenly.
âUh⌠I donât know, do you?â
Hyuck shrugs. âI guess it depends on the girl I end up with. I would be happy with kids, but Iâd be just as happy with two cats and a dog, you know?â
âTwo cats and a dog?â You cock a brow. âWhen did you come up with that specific of a dynamic?â
âWell, I figure, cats like company. Fresco would be easier to take care of if he had a playmate, you know? And I like dogs, but if we have more than one dog, then it might overpower Fresco and the other cat. So I feel like, Fresco, another cat, and maybe a cat-sized dog would be perfect.â
âI never pictured you as a small dog kind of guy.â
âWell, weiner dogs are cute as fuck, I donât know what to tell you.â
You laugh as you imagine this perfect little life dynamic that Hyuck has clearly spent time thinking about.
âYouâd have to find a different apartment to live in,â you muse.
âThatâs doable,â Hyuck shrugs. âYouâve got this whole one-bedroom, den, and office space set up, but Iâm in a bachelor suite right now. If you and I end up dating for a while, weâd have to find a bigger place.â
âYouâve been thinking a lot about the future, huh?âÂ
âIâm a father now,â Hyuck jokes, petting Fresco, âI need to be thinking ahead.â
You stare at this pretty man, this man who had walked into your life only a month ago like a sudden storm. Youâd initially seen him as a type of chaos, but heâs calmed down considerably. Heâs a reliable, nurturing person, and now, the type of man who thinks about the future instead of just taking things as they come.
You like that he has plans, plans that seem to include you. This isnât just a short-term thing to him, and that knowledge has your throat feeling tight.
Looking down at Fresco, you realize heâs asleep. âCome on,â you whisper, âlet's move to the kitchen.â
Hyuck doesnât question you as you both stand, and you exit your small office studio area, carefully closing the door behind you.
In the kitchen, you set your wine glass down before turning to Hyuck.
âHow long do you think Fresco will be sleeping for?â you ask.
Hyuck shrugs. âCould be an hour, could be ten minutes.â
You consider his words for a moment. âI get the feeling you can work with ten minutes.â
He stares at you blankly, and you see the second the lightbulb goes off in his brain. âI mean-â He clears his throat. âIf youâre up for that, I could definitely- you know, I could take care of you in ten minutes-â
âThen let's not waste any more time,â you tell him, closing the distance to throw your arms around Hyuckâs shoulders. His lips press against yours immediately, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you incredibly close- this is the first time Fresco hasnât been between the two of you, and it feels like heaven to have full-body contact like this.Â
God, his tongue is perfect as it strokes against your own, his fingers digging into your hips when you release a moan from the sensation.
âYour bedroom,â Hyuck whispers gruffly, and you can tell itâs taking all his control to not throw you over your kitchen counter right now.
âCome on,â you tell him grabbing his hand and leading him to your room. For good measure, you close the door, hoping two sound barriers will allow Fresco to sleep through all of this- youâre not sure what youâd do if he began to cry while Hyuck was balls deep inside of you, and you donât want to find out, not now.
Hyuckâs lips are on yours again almost immediately, and you grab the front of his shirt, pulling him with you as you back up toward your bed. Your calves touch the mattress and you lower yourself down, keeping your mouths connected as you do so.
âTake your shirt off,â you command next, a little shocked that you feel confident enough to tell Hyuck what to do in a situation like this.
âWhatever you say, gorgeous,â Hyuck laughs, breaking the kiss so he can tear his shirt off.
Then heâs on top of you, and your legs are wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer as your lips clash passionately.Â
âCan I start undressing you?â he asks, mouth moving to your throat, where he licks at your skin and makes you gasp.
âYeah, whatever you want,â you tell him, swallowing thickly and trying to center yourself.
His fingers find your shirt, and he slowly pulls it up. You help the process by lifting your arms, and the fabric is discarded. Youâre in a cute lacey bra and silky shorts now, and youâd be lying if you said you hadnât been dressing extra cute this past week in the hopes that this would happen.
No, youâre fully prepared. Youâd taken one of those horrific âfull-body showersâ in the morning, and youâre thanking God that it wasnât in vain.
âThis is cute,â Hyuck tells you, mouth moving down to your chest as his hand cups your breast through the bra, squeezing gently.
âThank you,â you gasp, loving the way it feels to be touched by him like this.
Youâre a little surprised when his mouth moves down past your breasts to your abdomen, and he slinks down onto the floor as he begins to drag your shorts off.
Itâs clear what his intention is, and it has your heart racing- you havenât been eaten out in ages, and most men make the whole thing feel like a chore. Having Hyuck, who is clearly eager to get his mouth on your pussy without being told to⌠itâs super sexy, and you can feel yourself getting wet already.Â
âTen minutes, right?â he jokes, looking up at you as he hooks his fingers in your panties. âI think I can work with that.â
You canât even find the words within yourself to respond as he strips you bare from the waist down. His hands grab your thighs and he begins kissing up your legs, looking up at you to be sure youâre okay with this.
You nod at him, swallowing thickly in preparation.
âSo wet already,â Hyuck muses. âGuess youâve been wanting this for a while too.â
âUh huh.â God, you feel so dumb, but he just makes you crazy- he takes your words away, and as he takes his first lick of your pussy, all you know is pleasure.
Your head falls back as a groan escapes you, your body immediately relaxing as he starts to eat you out.
Heâs slow with it, taking his time to explore you. You get the sense that heâs listening to your responses, gauging what feels best.
His lips suction around your clit and you whimper, threading your fingers through his hair.
Hyuck switches between licking and sucking, testing different pressures until he finds the right one, and then youâre gasping, eyes clenched shut as pleasure begins to build even faster in the pit of your stomach.Â
âThat feels so good,â you whimper, wanting to give him praise despite your current tongue-tied disposition.Â
Hyuck groans against your core, and the sound has your legs shaking. Your grip tightens in his hair, and from the way he reacts, you can tell he kind of likes the pain.
Fuck, heâs so sexy- youâve never been this turned on before, and it helps you get to the edge faster than you can even fathom.
âShit, fuck, Hyuck-â you groan, eyes clenching shut again as your stomach muscles tense incredibly tight.
He doesnât say anything, doesnât pull away from your pussy for even a moment, but a new vigor erupts through him, and thatâs all you need as confirmation that he wants you to cum.
A few more licks, a few more sucks, and a gasp escapes you, your muscles clenching right before the release that rockets through your entire body.
Your core is throbbing, pulsing with pleasure that overwhelms you in the best possible way.
Sounds of pleasure are escaping you with no regard to being too loud- your mind is blank except for the orgasm Hyuck has just provided, and he eats you out through the entire thing until your thighs are shaking and you canât take it anymore.
He pulls away, and you can practically hear him licking his lips.
âIâll grab a condom,â he tells you.
Although youâre on birth control to manage your period, this is a man youâve never slept with before, a man who hasnât discussed exclusivity, and more importantly, a man whoâs admitted to being a fuckboy in the past.
You stay quiet as Hyuck pulls his wallet out of his pants, retrieving a condom.Â
Then, Hyuck pushes the fabric of his jeans down, exposing himself fully to you.
You canât help the way you begin to salivate.
His cock is thick, and itâs a decent length too. Your best friend has referred to this type of cock as âboyfriend dickâ before, meaning the type thatâs big enough to satisfy, but not so big that it leaves you feeling wrecked.
You undo your bra, joining Hyuck in full nudity before you reposition on your bed, moving up so you can rest on the pillows.
He rolls the condom onto his cock, not whining one word of protest about wearing it- in fact, you hadnât even asked him to, heâd just taken matters into his own hand to practice safe sex for your first time.
You kind of love this.
Heâs definitely turned your opinion on him right around- this is not the man you thought he was, and the man he is⌠well, heâs so much better than you could have imagined.Â
âOkay,â Hyuck whispers as he finishes with the condom, looking up at you. âYou good for this?â
âYes, please.â You open your arms for him, beckoning him onto the bed.
He joins you, and your legs wrap around his hips, your lips meeting his own.
He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, but itâs not unpleasant. He groans against your mouth and you thread your fingers through his hair tugging gently.
Hyuck is grinding down against your core, and it feels amazing to have slight stimulus on your clit after an orgasm, but your inner walls are screaming for attention, and soon, youâre reaching between your bodies to grab his cock.Â
âTen minutes, remember?â you laugh.
âFuck, I got distracted.â He presses his forehead against yours, looking down at where youâre guiding his tip to your entrance.Â
âItâs okay,â you assure him. âJust focus now, I got to cum, so I want you to cum too.â
Hyuck moans at your words, and you slip the tip of his cock inside of you, making you groan too.
He smashes his lips to yours again, kissing you eagerly as he sinks into your core. He goes slowly, allowing your body to adjust, and once heâs fully inside of you, he pauses so you can both moan from the sensation.
âYou feel so good,â he tells you, his breath hot along your throat as he moves to press kisses there.
âYou too,â you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. âYou can move.â
âOkay, gorgeous.â He swallows thickly. âIâve got you.â
Then he begins to fuck you. As was his pace when he entered you, Hyuck is careful not to start at a hundred percent. He builds tempo comfortably, and your moaning urges him on until heâs fucking you so hard that the bed is shaking.
You grasp his shoulders roughly, whimpering as he kisses your throat, paying attention to your sweet spot. Each lick of your neck has your body tingling, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as he rails into you.
Your nipples feel incredibly sensitive too, pushed up against his chest. Each rock of his body is a sensation against all your most important erogenous zones, and it has you going crazy.
As it was with him eating you out, your mind is blank as Hyuck fucks you, and you kind of love it.
âFuck, you feel so fucking perfect,â Hyuck groans.
He grabs your hand, lacing your fingers as he presses it to the bed as an anchor, and then his lips meet yours again.
It feels so intimate to be fucking like this, and it makes things even more pleasurable.
You can feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach again, can feel your core beginning to tighten around him-
âAre you gonna cum again for me?â he asks.
âYeah, Iâm close,â you whimper.
âWhen you cum, I cum,â Hyuck tells you, pressing his lips to yours so you canât disagree.
He fucks you even harder, and each drag of his hips has your clit being stimulated too, which is tightening the coil in your abdomen even more-
You begin to gasp against his lips, getting closer and closer until you explode for a second time, your pussy clamping down on Hyuck like a vice.
âFuck!â He pulls away from your lips, moving to bury his face against your throat. You can tell your orgasm has triggered his own from the way heâs panting, his thrusts faltering ever so slightly- youâre pretty sure heâs doing his best to fuck you through your high, despite the fact that this might be overstimulating for him.
Maybe he likes a bit of overstimulation, as he likes the pain that comes from pulling on his hair. Regardless, he fucks you through it until youâre both gasping messes.
Then, as you lay there for a moment, you hear a meow.
You and Hyuck both break out into laughter, and you kiss his cheek. âYou can go clean up in the bathroom, Iâll deal with Fresco.â
âCan I stay here tonight?â Hyuck asks. âYou know, cuddle?â
âYou and Fresco can both stay,â you assure him.Â
âThe first of many sleepovers,â Hyuck tells you, standing up with a groan. âI like you a lot.â
You can sense thereâs a deeper emotion behind his words, but itâs still too early to be deep diving into any feelings more serious than âlikingâ each other, so with a nod and smile, you agree. âI like you too.âÂ
And for now, thatâs all you need to say.
âď¸Â mlist + an. thank you for reading! We love men and kittens!
đ support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!Â
đŽ preview. You feel closer to this man than youâve ever felt to anyone in your life, and warmth spreads from your chest at the notion of having a forever love like this.
cw/ tw.Unprotected sex, oral, blow job, hand job, pussy eating, sixty-nine, foreplay, grinding, nipple worship, overstimulation, Hyuck is a little on the rough side, multiple reader orgasms, size kink, fucking quietly/with a hand over your mouth, slight breath control/sensory deprivation, etcâŚÂ I petnames. (hers) gorgeous.
đšÂ rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 130
đ starring. Donghyuck x afab!Reader
bonus
Itâs been six months of hiding Fresco, and three near misses with your building manager, so when Hyuck shows you a pet-friendly apartment heâs found online, you jump at the chance to view it.
âThis is so much bigger than your space,â Hyuck muses as you do the walk-through. âAnd look, this room has better light for your paintings!â
You can see him imagining himself here, and it warms your heart.
âAre you ready for this next step?â you ask, pulling Hyuck to the side to have a heart-to-heart.
âIâve been ready to move in with you for months,â he tells you, hands falling onto your hips.
âThis is a big change,â you remind him.
âBut itâs good, for us, for Fresco- and the lease doesnât say anything about the amount of animals either.â
âď¸ to read the full fic AND 2.3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
đš or check out what else is on my patreon here
đŽif nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
â summary: you just moved into a new building, right across from three loud guys. two said sorry and the third couldnât care less.
pairing: pshx f!reader,wc: 14k words , genre: enemies to lovers ish, neighbor!au, fluff, romcom w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing
The elevator doors swung open, and soon you stepped out into the third floor hallway. You looked like you were moving in, which in your defenseâŚyou were. The oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, arms hugging a stack of takeout containers and a cactus you had that had pricked you far too many times, but that didnât matter. You were finally on your own.
Unit 3B. That was you now.Â
Your keys jingled in your palm as you found the door, nudged it open with one knee, and stepped into the apartment youâd stared at for months on rental listings. It wasnât huge, but it had a little kitchen with enough space for your mumâs rice cooker, and a balcony that caught the sun in the morning. You spun around in the centre of the room, grinning, almost knocking the cactus you had just placed on the counter in the process.
And by nightfall, the place felt like yours. Your fairy lights were strung up across your living room. Your fridge held exactly a bottle of soda, some tuna you had eaten an hour ago and a bag of unwashed grapes. You lit a vanilla candle, the one your best friend, Jungwon, made you promise to use so you'd remember him⌠even while being so far apart. But Jungwon hated travelling, so in his mind, you'd basically moved to another continent.Â
Jungwon dramatically declared, âYouâre practically moving to another country.â
âJungwon, Iâm literally a two-hour train ride away.â
âThatâs basically Europe.â
You rolled your eyes at the memory, smiling to yourself.
Still, you were glad youâd made the decision to move. Three years ahead of you⌠of being on your own, of learning to be independent, part-time jobs, and what you hopedâŚa future incoming relationship. It should be easy. It should be peaceful. It should beâ
âDUDE!!!â
A scream ripped through your wall.
It came from the wall to your right, a thin wall nudged between you and your neighbours. You could hear celebrations. A voice shouted, âTHAT WAS INSANE!â followed by a loud thump like someone had jumped off the sofa.
You tried ignoring it at first, burying yourself under the blanket like it could block out noise. But 20 minutes in, another screamed âHEâS OFFSIDE, YOU DUMBââ loud enough to rattle the walls, you snapped.
You threw on your hoodie, jammed your feet into slippers, and marched out the front door like you were storming a battlefield. The hallway was dim and quiet, except for the muffled party behind door 3C. You knocked, hard, but polite.
The door creaked open mid-laughter, revealing three guys mid-snack, mid-game.
âHi,â you said, tight smile. âSorry to bother you, but⌠would you mind keeping it down a little? Iâve got a test tomorrow and itâs kinda hard to focus with all the screaming.â
The one with fluffy hair, cute little eyes, nodded immediately. âShit. Sorry, sorry. Totally our bad.â
Another one, long lashes and a goofy smile, actually winced. âDidnât realise it was that loud. Weâll keep it down, promise.â
âAre you new here?â the first one asked.
You nodded. âI just moved in today, actually.â
âOh shit. Mrs Kim moved out?â
âDamn, weâre not getting her kimchi anymore, thatâs for sure.â
âWe gotta eat those store-bought ones that taste like ass.â
The second boy looked at you again, more focused this time. âOh right! Iâm Jake! Itâs great to meet you! Iâm sorry it happened under⌠unfortunate circumstances. But weâll be quieter!â
âIâm Jay, by the way,â the first one added with a small grin, pushing his hair back.
You nodded, smiling slightly. At least they were nice about it. Well, two out of three, anyway.
You glanced past both of them, eyes landing on the third boy slouched on the couch, still holding the controller, gaze fixed on the paused screen like you werenât even there. His jaw clenched once. No name. No hello. Just a subtle, annoyed glance in your direction before he looked away again.
Cool. So he hates you. Thatâs cool with you.
The third guy didnât say anything. Just glanced at you once, then turned back toward the TV.
âUh, thanks,â you said, lips tight, already backing away.
You returned to your apartment and for a blessed thirty minutes, it was quiet.
Then someone scored a goal and the wall shook again.
You blinked slowly at your ceiling, arms folded under your head like the weight of your patience was finally starting to crush your ribs. Okay. So thatâs how it was going to be. You frowned.
And that was literally⌠how war started.
The next morning, fuelled by petty vengeance and two hours of sleep, you grabbed your pastel pink sticky notes and wrote:
âDear 3C, Iâve played FIFA before. It is not that damn fun for you to be out here screaming. Please tone it down. Regards, the zombie in 3B.â
You slapped it on their door. Nothing changed.
And the next day:
âDear 3C, I canât sleep. Kindly shut up <3 With love, the girl one more sleepless night away from writing to the landlord. 3B.â
You half expected them to ignore it. Instead, you found your note missing by mid-afternoon. Gone.Â
For a moment, you felt powerful. Maybe theyâd actually listened.
Then 8:43 p.m. hit and someone in 3C scored a goal so loud you swore the bass from their TV made your candle flicker.
Alright. So it was personal now.
You stormed over to their door again, hands on your hips.. It wasnât that late. You werenât unreasonable. You believed in joy. In freedom. But right now? Rage was the only thing pumping through your system.
You shuffled down the hall with your bunny slippers slapping against the floor, hair in a claw clip that was giving up. You looked deranged. And for the first time, you were fine with that. You banged on their door.
The door cracked open a second later, revealing Jake blinking like a deer in headlights. His hair was messy. He looked mildly afraid.
âWere⌠we being loud again?â
You stared at him, deadpan. âYa think?â
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. âOkay, okay. Iâm so sorry. Itâs Sunghoon. He keeps saying itâs not that loud and we were mid-tournament andââ
âTell Sunghoon that his egoâs not the only thing echoing through these walls,â you snapped, arms crossed. âSome of us are trying to study.â
Behind Jake, you heard a familiar scoff followed by a smug voice yelling, âGod, sheâs so annoying. We were literally whispering.â
You leaned to the side, locking eyes with the third boy slouched on the couch, controller in hand, feet on the coffee table like the world owed him something. He didnât even pause the game this time.
You didnât know what it was about his stupidly symmetrical face but your blood boiled.
âTell this Sunghoon guyâŚhis whispering sounds like a screeching cat,â you said flatly, before spinning on your heel and marching back toward your door when you heard his aggravating voice.
âTell her sheâs overreacting over a couple of friends simply trying to have fun,â Sunghoon fired back from the couch, not even raising his voice.Â
You turned your head just enough to glare over your shoulder. âWell, tell him, his shirt doesnât match his fucking pants.â
Jake looked helpless, standing between you both like a middle child caught in a divorce.
And then, with that same bored tone, Sunghoon called out again, âWell, tell her⌠those slippers are the best thing sheâs worn all week.â
You stopped.
Jake sucked in a breath.
You slowly turned, eyes narrowing. âTell him he wouldnât know good fashion if it came with a user manual and punched him in his freaking face.â
Sunghoon finally glanced away from the TV, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. His lips curved into the most irritating half-smile youâd ever seen.
âTell herââ
Jake stepped in between again, hands raised. âOkay! Okay. Weâre gonna turn the volume down. Like, way down. Like you canât even hear us tiptoe. Right, Sunghoon?â
Sunghoon leaned back against the couch and shrugged. âWhatever. Iâm not the one annoying my neighbors at 9pm on a Friday night. Get some friends.âÂ
You slammed your door shut.
War was back on.
-
The next morning, your plan was simple. A little petty, sure, but necessary.
You stood outside their door in your pyjamas, holding a fresh pack of neon yellow Post-its since your previous ones were used up by the ongoing Post-It war.The hallway was empty. Your bunny slippers made no sound as you padded up to 3C and stuck the first one of the week dead-centre on the door.
âDear 3C, just a gentle reminder that FIFA will not feed you, clothe you, or give you money. Kindly shut up. PLEASE. Warmest regards, 3B.â
You smiled to yourself and floated back to your apartment.
That night? For the first time� Silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. You actually managed to revise two chapters and fall asleep before midnight. You woke up in the morning feeling like a changed woman.
But then you opened your front door.
There, taped neatly to your door, was a blue sticky note with surprisingly neat handwriting.
âDear 3B, you sound like you narrate your life out loud. â 3C.â
Your jaw dropped.
âNarrate your life out loud?â you muttered. âThatâs literally called thinking.â
You marched back into your apartment, flung open your stationery drawer.
âDear 3C, apologies if my internal monologue disrupted your daily FIFA championship. I only talk to myself because your volume settings make it impossible to hear my own thoughts. With all due respect (and ear damage), 3B."
That afternoon, Jay knocked on your door. You hesitated, then opened it a crack. He was holding a bag of convenience store pancakes in one hand.
âPeace offering,â he said. âAlso, I think your notes are hilarious. Jakeâs been collecting them. I think heâs making a scrapbook.â
You blinked. âIs this a joke or something?â
Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. âNo! Honestly, itâs kinda refreshing.â
Jake popped his head in from behind, grinning. âAlso, your handwritingâs really neat.â
You opened the door a little wider, cautious then shrugged. âYou want some⌠uh⌠spaghetti? I made it this morning.â
âSpaghetti?â Jay tilted his head.
You nodded. âYeah. I usually experiment with food. IâmâŚuhâŚin culinary school.â
Jakeâs eyes widened. âWait, so youâre like⌠a chef?â
âTrying to be.,â you said with a shrug, suddenly a little self-conscious.
They exchanged a quick look before barging in like you'd personally handed them invites at the door.
âThatâs so cool,â Jake said, practically bouncing as he flopped onto your beanbag. âI burnt instant noodles last week. Twice.â
Jay wandered deeper into your living room, his gaze landing on the dusty old guitar leaning against your bookshelf. âDude, check it out! She plays the guitar.â
You rubbed the back of your neck, awkward. âItâs just for fun. Iâm not that good.â
âIâm sure youâre great,â Jake said, already chewing through a mouthful of spaghetti heâd somehow found, and served himself in a bowl you didnât remember offering.
You blinked at him. âDid you justâ?â
âPlate was right there,â he said through a mouthful. âI took it as a sign.â
Jay nodded solemnly. âShe feeds us and plays guitar. Sheâs better than Mrs. Kim already.â
You sighed and closed the door behind them. âIâm starting to think Mrs. Kim left because of the three of you.â
In between bites, Jake nodded without hesitation. âI think so too.â
âWe can be loud,â Jay added, helping himself to another serving.
âHave you thought of⌠not being loud?â
âWe do,â Jay said. âBut then we get loud again.â
You rolled your eyes. âGuys, some of us have school andââ
âWe have school too,â Jake chimed in, mouth full.
âOkay⌠some of us care about sleep.â
Jay perked up. âThatâs why we got you this.â
He dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny box, dropping it into your hands.
You squinted at it. âWhatâs this?â
âTheyâre sleep buds,â he said proudly. âThey go in your ears and play white noise and, like⌠ocean sounds or something. Blocks everything out. Even us.â
You stared at the box, then at them.
âInstead of compromising, you got me gear?â
Jake grinned. âYeah. We like you. We want you to be able to sleep⌠through us.â
Jay gave you a thumbs-up. âItâs called adaptation.â
You looked down at the sleep buds in your hands and then back up at the two of them absolutely inhaling your spaghetti like they hadnât eaten in weeks.
You didnât know whether to kick them out or thank them.
So you just sighed, defeated. âYou guys are the weirdest neighbours Iâve ever had.â
Jake beamed. âAww. Youâre the weirdest too.â
And somehow⌠the next day⌠they were back.
You opened the door mid-knock, confused, only to find Jay grinning at you.
âWhatâs for lunch today, boss?â he asked, already halfway through the doorway.
You blinked. âHowâd you know I made something?â
âWe could smell it,â Jake said, stepping in right behind him, holding up a comically large spoon. âSmells so good. Brought my big spoon today. Came prepared.â
âUh⌠I made chowder?â
Jakeâs eyes lit up. âOh my god, I love chowder.â
Jay had already plopped onto the floor cushion, flipping through your Spotify like he owned your iPad. âWhat kind? Clam? Corn? Pumpkin? Wait⌠do people put pumpkin in chowder?â
You stared at them, ladle in hand.
âCorn,â you muttered, shuffling back into the kitchen.
Then the day after that⌠they came again. At this point, it felt less like a surprise and more like a recurring appointment.
âNo fucking way. Kimchi stew? This shit is so good!. Jay, you need to try the beef. Itâs so soft. Howâ howâd you get it so soft? Is this like one of those expensive beef? Wakoo?â
âItâs Wagyu, Jake.â You corrected.
âWagyu~â He sang.
Jay, already mid-bite, nodded with a full mouth. âCan I havefth thefth reshepee?â
You wiped your hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter with one brow raised. âDo you guys ever eat in your own apartment?â
Jake didnât miss a beat. âNot when you cook like this.â
Jay pointed his chopsticks at you like he was making a closing argument in court. âThis is technically your fault. You fed us once. Thatâs basically a binding contract. Weâre best friends now. Arenât we, Jake?â
Jake nodded, mouth full. âMhmff. Whatever he said.â
You sighed, setting your elbow on the table and dropping your chin into your hand. âIf youâre gonna keep doing this, at least wash the dishes after.â
Jake saluted you with his spoon like you were the captain of a very tiny, soup-based army. âYes, chef.â
You looked at the two of them, one already on his third helping, the other stealing more beef straight from the pot, and shook your head.
This wasnât how your independent, put-together, college life was supposed to go. You were meant to be focused. The mysterious girl on the third floor who only ever came out for groceries and exams.
But maybe⌠with the two of them barging in uninvited, eating like they hadnât seen food in years, and treating your living room like it was theirsâŚ
Maybe you wouldnât feel so lonely after all.
-
It was 9 p.m. Strangely quiet.
Usually, by now, thereâd be at least one goal celebration shaking the walls or someone shouting about a missed penalty. But tonight? Nothing. You didnât let it bother you. You took it as a win.
The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape. You stepped out into the cool night, cradling your little scissors and spray bottle like sacred tools. Your succulents were arranged in a neat line. A few leaves had started to curl. You knelt down, snipping the dead ends carefully.
You shouldâve felt peaceful.
But tonight, something tugged at your chest.Â
You missed Jungwon. You missed your momâs mismatched cutlery and the way your dad always forgot heâd already asked about your grades. Maybe even your pet fish, the one that never did much except float around looking confused.
Jay and Jake were friendly, sure. But they werenât yours. They werenât part of your before. They didnât know the town you came from or the versions of you that existed before now.
And even though you thought youâd settled in... even though you were coping...you were lonely.
Without meaning to, you started speaking out loud â just like you always did.
âItâs fine. Youâll do better tomorrow. Tomorrow you wonât feel as lonely,â you said softly as you misted the leaves. âYouâll be stronger. Youâre gonna get used to this. You can do it.â
But the lie caught in your throat.
Because you were crying already.
You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, frustrated, betrayed by your own body. You reached for your phone without thinking and hit the contact you swore you wouldnât keep calling every time you got overwhelmed.
Jungwon answered on the first ring.
âWhatâs up?â he asked, casual as ever.
âWonâŚâ you breathed out.
There was a pause. Then: âAre you crying?â
âNo?â
âI can hear you sniffling, you shit.â
âItâs justââ your voice cracked. âItâs hard. Iâm alone all the time. Iâve got no friends. Iâve got no one to talk to. Iâm alone, Won.â
âI know,â he said gently. âI knowâŚâ
There was a pause. You could hear him shifting in bed, his voice soft and serious now. âBut think about it this way, okay? Youâre barely in your first month. Youâre gonna get used to it. Youâre gonna find people. Youâre gonna build something here. It just takes time.â
You bit your lip. âYouâll visit if you can, right?â
âIâll visit,â he promised. âEven if it takes two bloody hours.â
âBut you hate traveling.â
âFor you, Iâd suffer.â
You sniffled. âYouâre just saying that so Iâll hang up.â
âYouâre right because Iâm exhausted from basketball. But also⌠I love you.â
âFine,â you mumbled. âI love you too.â
âChin up. Youâre talented and you deserve to be there. You can do this. Weâre all counting on you.â
âI know.â You exhaled slowly. âGoodnight, Wonnie.â
âNight.â
You ended the call and sat in silence for a moment, letting the cool night air settle on your skin. The tears had stopped. Your hands still smelled like mint and basil and the faint sweetness of the spray bottle. You stared at your succulents, wondering if they ever got lonely too.
Unbeknownst to you, just a few feet away, out on the connected balcony, hidden by the divider, someone had heard everything.
He hadnât meant to eavesdrop. Heâd stepped out earlier, just needing air, needing quiet, needing to be somewhere still for once. And then heâd heard your voice. The words that were not meant for anyone else.
And for the first time, Sunghoon didnât roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.
He just stood there in the dark, one hand gripping the railing, heart a little heavier than before.
He understood more than you thought.
And somewhere between your tears and Jungwonâs voice, he changed his mind about you.
-
The next few days, there was absolute silence. Maybe the food had finally worked some psychological warfare on Jay and Jake. Maybe it was their way of returning the favour. Either way, you werenât about to question it.
You were grateful, to say the least.
Because for the past week, youâd been moping around your apartment. Living alone and striking out as an âindependent bacheloretteâ sounded empowering in theory, but in practice? Maybe you werenât one of those girlies after allâŚyâknow the ones on Instagram who made solitude look like a season of self-discovery instead of a series of breakdowns.
It was Saturday. Youâd spent the entire morning in bed watching a Netflix documentary about some guy swindling people on Tinder, surrounded by crumpled tissue and scented candle smoke that had long turned suffocating. You were still in yesterdayâs hoodie, blanket tangled around your legs.
Three knocks echoed at the door.
You lifted your head from the pillow with a groan, barely alive. The sound came again.
Dragging yourself across the living room, you cracked the door open just a sliver, just wide enough to peek through but not enough to reveal the disaster that was your face, your hair, or your pride.
âUh.â The voice was hesitant. Familiar.
You squinted.
Sunghoon.
You blinked. âWhat are you doing here?â you asked, your voice hoarse from crying and a full night of narrating your own spiral.
âThere was a mix-up with the mail,â he said, holding up a small stack of envelopes.
âOh.â You extended your arm awkwardly through the tiny gap in the door and grabbed the letters. âThanks.â
There was a pause, âI can see your puffy eyes through the gap.â
You scoffed, immediately pulling the door closer. âYou just have to be a smartass about everything, donât you?â
He shrugged, completely unbothered, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Still standing there.Â
ââŚAre Jake and Jay home?â you asked, trying to sound casual.
His expression twitched, almost amused. âWhy? Trying to steal my best friends again orââ
âNo,â you deadpanned. âI was just wondering. Itâs been⌠quiet this whole week.â
âThey went home to visit their families.â
Oh. Right. Come to think of it, maybe that explained why everything felt extra heavy lately. It was the time of year people usually went home. People surrounded themselves with comfort and familiarity. And here you were, stuck in the city because the train ticket home was just slightly out of budget.
âYou didnât go?â you asked softly.
âCanât,â he shrugged.
âOh.â
There was a beat of silence. Then he tilted his head.
âWell,â Sunghoon said slowly, âif you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a ratâs nest, you know where to find me.â
The words came with the usual venom but the message behind them landed differently.
You stared at him through the gap in the door. You couldnât tell if he was trying to be funny, or⌠sincere, in his own weird, backhanded way. It was strange. Youâd only had three full conversations with the guy. And every single one ended in a WWE tournament.
You narrowed your eyes slightly. âAre you⌠being nice to me?â
He clicked his tongue. âDonât ruin it.â
And with that, he turned and walked back.
-
You finally got up.
There was no movie-worthy breakthrough moment. Just the dull ache in your head from crying too much and the feeling that if you shed one more tear, your eyeballs might actually eject themselves from their sockets. So you moved. You stripped your bed, tossed the mountain of tissues into a trash bag, sprayed half a bottle of disinfectant in the air, and opened every window.
Your apartment looked like it had survived an apocalypse, which, to be fair, was accurate. But you scrubbed it back to life.
By the time you were in the kitchen, your eyes were still a little swollen, but youâd pressed them with cool spoons and a sad little compress until you could see straight again. Kind of.
You pulled out ingredients from your fridge one by one, lining them up like you were preparing for war. Slicing, boiling, julienning, stir-frying. The sound of the pan crackling beneath the glass noodles filled the silence of your apartment. It smelled exactly like it did when your mom used to make it.
You plated it in a wide, shallow bowl. It was delicious. Of course it was. You took pride in it. You always had. Jungwon used to tease you, calling your hands âblessed by Gordon Ramsayâ like everything you touched turned into comfort food. Youâd swat his arm, trying not to smile as he reached for second helpings before youâd even sat down.
You missed him. You missed your family. You missed not having to eat alone on a day like this.
Your eyes drifted to the door.
Would it be stupid? To bring food to Sunghoon? Youâd never really done anything kind for him. Most of your interactions were lined with sarcasm and insults. And yet⌠that one line of his kept replaying in your head, âIf you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a ratâs nest, you know where to find me.â
So maybeâŚmaybe he meant it. Or maybe you were just desperate for company and your noodles were starting to get cold.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed the noodles into a clean container, wrapped a rubber band around it, and found yourself standing in front of 3C. Your feet had walked you here without permission. Your hand hovered in the air, ready to knock, but now⌠you hesitated. You werenât here to complain. You werenât here to yell. And that made it harder.
And just before your knuckles could land on the door, it swung open.
Sunghoon stood in front of you, coat already on, scarf looped lazily around his neck. There was a little shine to his hair like heâd styled it, and he looked surprised, mildly confused to find you on his doorstep without any anger evident in your eyes.
âWhat?â he said, voice dry.
You blinked, staring at him. Youâd never really looked at him properly before. Not when he was this put-together. The gel in his hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scarf sat slightly off-center like heâd thrown it on in a rush. You knew he was attractive. You werenât blind. But seeing him now?
Sunghoon was actually⌠pretty handsome.
âIâuhââ you stammered.
His eyes narrowed slightly. âSpit it out.â
âIâuhâI made some⌠stir-fried glass noodles,â you said, stumbling over every syllable. âAnd I know how much it sucks being alone on a day like this, so I thought⌠maybe itâd bring you some kind of familiarity. From home, or something.â
You didnât let yourself overthink it. You shoved the container into his hands, heart pounding.
âBye,â you mumbled, before immediately turning around and marching back to your apartment like youâd just robbed a bank. The door clicked shut behind you.
You pressed your back to it, eyes wide.
Shit.
Was Sunghoon actually hot?
-
Sunghoon stood in the hallway, unmoving. The container in his hands was warm and he stared down at it for a couple of seconds longer than he probably shouldâve.
Jake and Jay had been raving about your cooking for weeks. At first, he thought they were exaggerating. How good could someoneâs food be that it made two of the loudest people he knew voluntarily whisper through a FIFA match?
But heâd seen it with his own eyes, Jake silently fist-pumping the air, mouthing âLETâS FUCKING GOâ after a goal, and Jay barely reacting as he scored. They even created a rule: first one to speak puts a dollar in the Silence Jar. A literal jar. With money.
Sunghoon didnât get it.
And he didnât particularly care to. Not then.
But now, standing in the hallway in his coat and scarf, staring at the gift you shoved into his hands with flushed cheeks, something felt different.
He had been on his way out, actually. There was a bar nearby, nothing special, just a dim-lit spot with quiet music and decent food where no one bothered him. He usually went there whenever Jay and Jake went back home, like they did this time every year. It wasnât that he didnât have familyâhe did. It just wasnât⌠warm. They were always busy. Always somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.
He peeled off his scarf, feet dragging a little as he headed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. He set the container on the kitchen counter, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and opened the lid.
Steam wafted up instantly, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, something subtly sweet he couldnât name. The noodles glistened. They looked homemade. No, they felt homemade.
He picked up a strand and gave it a tentative taste.
His eyes widened before he could even help it.
It was good. Like stupid good. Like how the hell is this girl not running her own restaurant kind of good. Better than anything he wouldâve paid for at that bar tonight.
He stood there in silence, chopsticks hovering mid-air, thinking back.
He wasnât proud of how heâd treated you. Three encounters, three arguments. He remembered each one too clearly. The snark in his voice. The way your expression hardened. The notes on the door.Â
But it wasnât really about you.
He hated being called out. Hated being the problem. Maybe it was ego, or maybe it was the way heâd always felt like he had to be put-together or to say the leastâŚcontrolled. Your presence threw him off. You were loud in a way that was sincere. You didnât filter your emotions. You wore your annoyance on your sleeve and your feelings on your face.
It irritated him. It also⌠made him feel something.
And then there was that night on the balcony.
He hadnât meant to listen. But when he heard your voice cracking through the divider, talking to someoneâŚmaybe it was your boyfriend? Your best friend? Whoever it was about how lonely you were, it hit him harder than it shouldâve.
Because he got it.
He felt it too.
Being alone in a crowd. Having people around but never really with you. That weight in your chest that didnât come from sadness exactlyâŚjust the absence of warmth.
Sunghoon felt it more often than he cared to admit. He loved Jake and Jay, loved them to pieces. They were the kind of people who filled a room with noise and an energy he couldnât really place and who made him laugh even when he didnât want to.
He wanted something more. Something real.
Someone who just⌠saw him.
He sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the container of glass noodles still warm with steam curling from the lid. He wasnât usually impulsive. He didnât do gestures. But maybe tonight called for something a little uncharacteristic.
He stood and reached up, opening the top cupboard where Jake and Jay kept what they called their âemergency date plates.â. The kind of plates you used to impress someone. They only ever brought them out when trying to convince girls they were not, in fact, living in a borderline condemned apartment flat.
He grabbed two.
And then, before he could second guess it, he walked out into the hallway and knocked.Â
Your door creaked open a few seconds later.
You blinked at him, confused. âWhat?â
It almost felt like deja vu. Except now, he was youâŚawkward at the door.
And then it hit him.
He looked at youâŚlike, really looked at you, and for the first time, he realised heâd never actually seen you before.Â
You were wearing a soft pink sleeveless dress, the fabric loose and falling just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist. Your hair was tied into a side braid, fringe swept slightly to the side, with a few delicate strands left loose to frame your face. You looked like you belonged in a pastel painting.
Shit.
Were you actuallyâpretty?
Nope. Nope. Stop that. Sunghoon blinked hard, trying to erase the thought.
Damn it.
You probably had a boyfriend. Someone smart and warm and emotionally available who FaceTimed you every night and wrote you good morning texts. Someone who missed you from back home.
And besidesâŚsomeone who could cook like you? You could probably bag Jake and Jay at the same time in under a minute if you wanted. Not that you would. But still.
He cleared his throat.
âI, uhâŚâ He held up the plates slightly. âI thought maybe⌠you could join me?â
He wasnât good at this. But his voice was steady.
âOnly if you want to,â he added, quickly. âI just figured. Yâknow. Glass noodles taste better on⌠plates that arenât plastic.â
His eyes met yours.
He was trying.
And this time, it was your turn to blink in disbelief.
-
Sunghoon had returned with the container of glass noodles, now a little colder, a little stickier, but still giving off the faint aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce. Youâd reheated it and plated it up, slightly embarrassed that the presentation wasnât what it had been fresh off the stove, but he didnât seem to care. Or maybe he did, but you couldnât tell, because for the first five minutes, you didnât look at each other.
The clink of chopsticks, the occasional scrape of ceramic, and your ceiling fan. It was awkward. You wondered why he even came. Why he asked in the first place, if he was just going to eat in silence.
âSo,â you said.
âSo,â he said.
You paused.
âYou first.â
âNo, youââ
âOkay, Iâll go first,â he said, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and set his chopsticks down. âIâuhâI just wanted to say thanks. For the meal.â
You blinked. âOkay.â You nodded slowly. âYouâre⌠shockingly formal when youâre not pissed.â
âIââ Sunghoon let out a breath and leaned back a little in the chair. âI was never pissed.â
âMhm,â you hummed, nodding, eyes narrowed. âSure.â
âI was annoyed, sure. Who likes being called out?â
âI wasnât trying to call you out,â you said, tilting your head. âBut put yourself in my shoes. I have to wake up at stupid oâclock to learn how to make a soufflĂŠ or whatever, and meanwhile, Iâm treated to surround sound yelling and the occasional ceiling vibration.â
He gave a small shrug. âWell, we havenât done it in a while.â
âAnd Iâm grateful,â you replied, lips twitching. âTruly.â
âWe got a silence jar and everything,â he muttered, almost like he didnât want to admit it.
Your eyebrows shot up. âA silence jar?â
He nodded. âYeah. Jay implemented it. He said if we keep it up, weâll have enough for extra toppings on our next pizza night.â
You burst into laughter, the sound surprising even yourself. It came out light and real, and you covered your mouth halfway through. âThatâs⌠honestly? A decent plan.â
âIt can be,â he said with a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth. âUntil everyone starts trying to play FIFA like itâs an ASMR video.â
âYou guys actually whisper?â you asked, incredulous.
âWell, yeah. You told us to.â
âI didnât think you would listen,â you said, pointing your chopsticks at him.
Sunghoon shrugged again, his eyes dropping to the plate in front of him. âWell⌠they changed my mind, so.â
He didnât say what he was really thinking.
That it wasnât Jake or Jay who changed his mind. It was that night. The way your voice had carried through the gap in the balcony, fragile and cracking. The way youâd said Iâm alone, Won like it was something that had been sitting inside you for too long, waiting to spill. Heâd realised then maybe he wasnât just an annoying neighbour to you. Maybe he was part of the problem. Maybe heâd been making things harder for someone who was already trying to hold it all together.
âSoâŚâ he said quietly, eyes on his plate, âwhy are you alone during the holidays anyway?â
âCouldnât afford a train ticket,â you said eventually. âI meanâI could have, technically. But thatâd mean I wouldnât have enough money left to buy ingredients for my assignments the next few weeks.â
Sunghoon winced. âOof. Thatâs rough. Must suck.â
You gave a little shrug. âYeah. Itâs fine though.â
He knew it wasnât.
There was a pause. He glanced sideways at you.
âIf you ever⌠feel like you need someone to talk to,â he started, voice casual, âyou could just knock. I have FIFA.â
You snorted. âOh, like Iâd willingly join that mess.â
âItâs actually really fun.â
âHow fun can flinging a ball across a screen with your thumbs be?â
âIt is!â he defended, turning fully toward you.
You raised a brow. âI tried once with my friend and it was so boring.â
âThatâs âcause you werenât playing it right,â he insisted, already standing up. âCome on. Iâll show you.â
âIâm not playing FIFA with you.â
âCome onnn,â he whined, grabbing your wrist and tugging you lightly toward his door.
âGod, this is gonna be so stupid,â you muttered, dragging your feet even as you followed him out.
Inside his apartment, the lights were warm, the couch sunken in like it had been through a war. You sat reluctantly, tucking your knees up as he handed you the controller.
âAlright,â he said, sliding in beside you. âThis is youâTeam Two. All you have to do is use the left joystick to move, the right one to look around. This button to pass, this one to shoot.â
You blinked. âSo many buttons.â
âItâs easy! Just follow what I say.â
âOkay⌠so now I justâ?â You pressed a button and immediately kicked the ball out of bounds.
âNo, noâmove left. Left.â
âI am moving left!â
He glanced over. Your tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration, eyes squinted, brows furrowed. He chuckled before he could stop himself, quickly looking away.
Then you screamed, âI DID IT! DID I DO IT?!â
He turned back just in time to see you score.
Sunghoon yelled, jumping up. âYeah! That was it!â
You stared at the screen, jaw dropping. âHoly shit. Iâm amazing.â
He looked at you again, this time longer. Your eyes were glowing, still locked on the TV. Your fingers tapped at the buttons like you already got it down. You bit your lip when you were focused, tongue sticking out just slightly when you were thinking.
And you were cute. So fucking cute.
The match picked up pace. Suddenly it was 2â2, and both of you were leaning in like your lives depended on it. You were yelling at the controller. He was shouting advice. At one point, your knees knocked, but neither of you noticed. The room was loud, just your voices and the music from the game and the way your laughter filled every corner of his flat.
Then it happened.
You scored.Â
You screamed, controller tossed onto the couch, and before Sunghoon could register what was happening, your arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight as you jumped slightly in place.
âI WON! DID YOU SEE THAT?!â
He froze. Your cheek brushed his jaw, your warmth right up against him. His hands hovered midair like he didnât know whether to hold you back or not.
And then you let go, plopped back onto the couch, and grabbed the controller again like nothing had happened.
Sunghoon didnât move.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his heartbeat stuttered. Sped up like it had been woken from a long, indifferent sleep.
He sat there, silent, staring at you as you shouted at your pixelated team.
And all he could think was well thatâŚhe hadnât planned on crushing on the new girl based on one single positive interaction.
God, he was so screwed.
-
The next few days passed in a blur of almost-conversations.
You and Sunghoon didnât talk much. Not like that night. Just a few polite waves across the hallway, a quiet âheyâ if you caught the elevator at the same time. Respectful nods. The occasional awkward glance if your eyes met for too long.
And then Jake and Jay came back.
And of course, Jake being Jake, invited himself into your apartment before you could even say no.
âI missed your cooking while I was gone,â he sighed dramatically, sinking into the dining chair like heâd returned from war.
âWell, todayâs your lucky day,â you said, flipping through your assignment folder and squinting at the weekâs task. âBecause for todayâs assignment, Iâm supposed toâŚâ you paused. âMake a really mean chicken pot pie.â
Jakeâs eyes lit up. He clapped his hands, nearly tipping his chair over. âCHICKEN POT PIE?!â
Before you could even blink, he leapt up, yanked your door open, and sprinted into the hallway.
âJAY! ITâS CHICKEN POT PIE!â he yelled like it was a fire drill.
From across the hall, Jayâs voice rang out. âWHAT?! NO WAY!â
And thenâanother voice joined them.
A quieter one.
âChicken pot pie?â
You didnât even have time to react before you were suddenly hosting three grown men in your kitchen, all leaning over your counter.
âGuys,â you said, elbow-deep in flour. âI canât focus if youâre all staring at me like that.â
âWeâre just excited,â Jake grinned, chin in his hands.
âWell donât be. Iâve never made this before. It might taste like ass.â
âYour hands are basically blessed by Gordon Ramsay,â Jay declared, grabbing a slice of carrot from the cutting board. âItâs impossible for it to taste like ass.â
You laughed, the sound soft and unexpected even to yourself. âJungwon used to tell me that all the time.â
âOh he did?â Jay echoed, voice teasing.
Sunghoon stood a few steps back from the others, arms crossed loosely, leaning against your fridge. He hadnât said much since stepping into your place, but now he watched the three of you.
The way you smiled when Jay made a joke. The way Jake knew where you kept your mixing bowls. The way your eyes sparkled, just slightly, when you laughed about something from home. The way they got it. The way they knew you.
And the way he didnât.
Sunghoon couldnât explain it but it made his stomach twist. Tight and strange and uncomfortable.
And then he heard it again.
Jungwon.
Who the hell was Jungwon?
His name sounded too casual. Too affectionate. The kind of name you didnât just drop without meaning.
Sunghoon didnât say anything. He just looked down at your countertop, at the flour dusting your hands and the delicate way your fingers shaped the crust, and all he could think wasâ
Why the fuck did he care so much?
You moved around your kitchen with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to watch. Sunghoonâs eyes were locked on you, the way your hair swayed behind your back as you leaned forward to stir something in the pot, the way your sleeves were pushed up.Â
His heart pounded harder than it shouldâve. He tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe it was just the smell of garlic and butter making him lightheaded. That had to be it, right?
Except no.
He hadnât planned on feeling like this today. Not when he woke up. Not when he brushed his teeth and went on his phone and told himself heâd stay in his apartment. He hadnât even planned on coming over. And that night the two of you shared noodles? Heâd chalked it up to vulnerability. Nighttime feelings. Nothing serious.
But now it was noon. He was awake. Sober. And you were still somehow making his chest tighten just by existing within ten feet of him.
God. He hated having a crush.
He didnât even realise how lost he looked until Jake spoke up from the side, breaking the spell.
âSo, is Jungwon finally coming?â
This guy again.
Sunghoonâs head whipped toward Jake so fast it mightâve snapped his neck.
You perked up at the mention, a smile blooming across your face without even trying. âYeah! Heâs coming in two weeks! I actually told him about you guys. Heâs kinda excited to meet you.â
That smile. It wasnât fake. It wasnât forced. You looked like someone who meant it. Someone who missed this guy. Someone who talked to him often.
Sunghoon clenched his jaw and looked away, grabbing a water bottle off your counter just to do something with his hands. He twisted the cap a little too hard.
He didnât know who the hell Jungwon was.
But he already didnât like him.
âHeâs coming over?â Jay asked, his mouth still half-full of pie filling.
âYeah,â you said casually, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you peeked into the oven. âHeâs staying at my place for the week heâs here.â
Staying at your place?
Sunghoon blinked.
He looked around your apartment, eyes scanning every corner like they were going to magically reveal a hidden guest room. But there wasnât one. You lived in a studio. Everything was in one space. Your bed, your desk, your kitchen, your couch. Except⌠there wasnât even a real couch. Just a throw-covered loveseat that barely seated two.
No air mattress in sight. No hidden folding cot. No suspicious lumpy bags that might hold a spare futon.
Just one bed.
His chest tightened.
Where the hell was Jungwon gonna sleep? With you?
He picked at the label on his water bottle, teeth grinding quietly as he stared down at the floor, like it held answers. It didnât.
He wasnât even involved with you. This shouldnât matter. It shouldnât bother him.
But it did. In the most uncomfortable, teeth-clenching, mind-racing kind of way.
-
You stood in front of the three boys, arms crossed, heart racing slightly under your apron. The chicken pot pie sat on the tableâŚgolden brown crust, just the right amount of bubbling over on the sides, the smell of thyme and butter and garlic filling your apartment.
Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon each took a spoonful at the same time like theyâd rehearsed it. You watched them, nervous, scanning their faces.
One by one, their expressions lit up. Jakeâs eyes widened, Jay let out a satisfied groan. Well⌠except Sunghoon. Of course.
He stayed still. Always unreadable. But you caught it. The tiny pause, the way his brows lifted just a fraction. He liked it. He just didnât show it like the others.
âSoââ Jake started.
âGood,â Jay finished, already reaching for more.
Your eyes flicked to Sunghoon. Somehow, his opinion was the one you were waiting on. The one you needed.
âSo?â you asked, staring at him.
He blinked. âWhat?â
âHow is it?â
âItâs good,â he said, nodding once, tone flat as ever.
Your smile dropped. You frowned. âDoesnât seem like it.â
âWhat? I just said itâs good.â
âNo, you said âgoodâ and then frowned and put your spoon down. Usually itâs âItâs good,â then a second bite. Right, boys?â
Jake nodded enthusiastically, chicken still in his mouth. âSheâs right.â
âTotally right,â Jay added, already helping himself to more.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly. âYouâre all being dramatic.â
You scoffed, insulted. âI guess you donât want seconds then. Tch.â
You clicked your tongue and turned on your heel, storming off toward the kitchen, grumbling under your breath. Your apron fluttered behind you as you moved, and you didnât look back.
Sunghoon watched your little pout, the way your shoulders stiffened, how you exaggerated every step. He didnât know why, but he liked your reaction. No, he loved it. He found it ridiculously cute. Too cute, actually. That slight wrinkle in your forehead. The way your voice got higher when you were mad. The tiny stomp in your step.
The moment your back turned, his lips twitched upward.Â
When lunch ended and the three of them stood by your front door, Jake and Jay turned to hug you dramatically.
âNever move out,â Jake said into your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes. âYouâre just saying that because you get free food.â
âAnd precisely why we donât want you to move out,â Jay replied, squeezing you once more before the two of them shuffled out, bickering as they made their way into their apartment across the hall.
Sunghoon lingered. Just behind you.
You turned, raising a brow. âArenât you leaving?â
He nodded. âYeah.â He stepped back slowly, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking to the floor before settling back on you. Then he paused. Like he wasnât sure if he should say what he was about to say.
âThe chicken pot pie was good. I thinkâŚâ he exhaled, voice quieter, âI think it was one of the best things Iâve ever had.â
You blinked, caught off guard.
âIt reminded me of home,â he added, eyes still on you now, a little softer than usual. âNot in the way where itâs about the taste or anything⌠itâs just⌠you cook like home. If that makes any sense.â
You hadnât expected that.
Your cheeks flushed immediately. You turned away before he could see it, pretending to fiddle with a dish on the counter, fingers uselessly adjusting an already-clean plate.
âThank you,â you murmured, voice low, almost shy.
He lingered for a second longer like he wanted to say more. Then he gave a quiet nod and walked out the door.
-
It was raining.
It was only 4 p.m., but the sky had turned an eerie charcoal grey, clouds rolling thick above the city. Thunder cracked so loud you felt it in your chest, and the wind howled between the buildings, slamming against your windows.
You hated this.
You hated how much you still feared storms even at your age. How useless independence felt when you were stuffing tissues in your ears and jamming earmuffs over your head like you were five again. You turned on every single light in your apartment, lamps, fairy lights, even your microwave light and cocooned yourself under your thickest blanket, barely breathing, eyes wide.
Then the whole building shuddered.
The lights flickered.
And then everything went dark.
You screamed.
Your apartment disappeared into a blanket of pitch black, shadows curling up the walls like ink. Your heart pounded. You scrambled up from the couch, tearing off your earmuffs and patting the walls with shaky hands, trying to find a light switch like that would fix anything.
âShit,â you whispered, voice trembling. âShit shit shit.â
You fumbled for your phone. A message popped up from your landlord.
âThe building is experiencing a temporary blackout due to the storm. Electricity should resume in an hour. Thank you for your patience.â
An hour? Alone? In this? In the dark? Absolutely fucking not.
You jumped at another violent crack of thunder and instantly rushed out into the hallway. Your blanket trailed behind you like a cape. You beelined for the only door you knew.
You knocked. The door swung open almost immediately.
âNo time to explain but Iâm shitting bricks here,â you said all at once.
It wasnât Jake or Jay.
It was Sunghoon.
His brows raised. âThe thunderstorm?â
You nodded frantically. âAre Jake or Jay here?â
âTheyâre asleep.â He glanced behind him, then back at you. âBut I could⌠stay with you. If you want. Until it passes.â
You hesitated.
Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, right above your building.
You flinched. âOkay,â you breathed, defeated.
The two of you sat cross-legged on your couch, sharing a single candle as your only source of light. It flickered between you, casting long, warm shadows on the walls.
âSeems like youâre scared of the thunder,â he said gently.
âWell,â you sighed, voice tight. âIâve been scared of it since I was younger. It just⌠gets to me.â
He nodded. âItâs okay.â
You noticed it thenâŚthe subtle tremble in his shoulders. He was shivering. From the cold, probably. Your heater wasnât working without electricity, and the apartment was steadily turning into a fridge. You were wrapped up like a burrito, but heâd come in without anything but a hoodie.
Feeling guilty, you shifted toward him and lifted one side of your blanket.
âUhâŚâ he looked at you like he wasnât sure if he was being pranked.
âRelax. I can see you shivering like a dog,â you muttered.
âOh.â He blinked, then grabbed the other end of the blanket and scooted in beside you.
Now under the same blanket, his body heat pressed faintly against yours. You sat side by side, knees pulled to your chests.
And then, in a whisper, he said, âYou knowâŚâ
You looked over at him, startled by the sudden softness in his voice.
âI know Iâm not as close to you as Jay and Jake are,â he said, eyes trained on the candle, âbut⌠you donât always have to find them for help.â
You blinked. âHuh?â
âIâm sayingâŚâ he sighed, eyes flicking up toward you, and then away again. âNever mind.â
âNo, what? Just spit it out.â
He exhaled through his nose like it physically hurt to get the words out. âIâm just saying⌠you could ask me for help too.â
You stared at him, your eyes adjusting to the candlelight flickering between you.
âOh,â you said softly.
There was a beat of silence. You werenât really sure what to do with that. But you didnât want to leave it hanging either.
âIâll be sure to think of you the next time,â you mumbled, barely louder than the rain still pelting the windows outside.
You felt him nod beside you.
You turned your head slowly, resting your cheek against your knees, eyes drifting toward him. His face was tilted down, lashes long and dark as they blinked now and then, just slow enough for you to notice. His jaw had softened a little. He looked calm, in a way you werenât used to seeing him.
âWould you rather have a million dollars,â you said suddenly, âor have no problems in the world?â
He blinked, confused for a second, then turned his head toward you. His chin was on his knees now too, and with the two of you curled up in the same blanket, inches apart, it felt almost like whispering under covers at a sleepover.
âWhat kind of question is that?â
âA good one,â you replied, lips twitching. âSo answer it.â
He scoffed a little under his breath. âUh⌠maybe no problems in the world?â
âSmart answer. Why?â
He paused, âI think people ruin themselves trying to solve problems that shouldnât be theirs. If I had no problems, maybe I wouldnât waste time worrying about all the stuff that doesnât matter.â
You blinked at him. That was⌠not the answer you were expecting. It was a good one. Way too good, actually.
âRight,â you said softly, giving him a small nod.
He looked at you for a second longer before his eyes flicked down. âYour turn. Would you rather go back in time or go into the future?â
You puffed your cheeks out, thinking. âHmm⌠thatâs a toughie.â
Then your eyes widened, the way they always did when you had a lightbulb moment. âGo back in time!â
âWhyâs that?â
âSo maybe Iâd really weigh the pros and cons of moving to a city where I know no one,â you said with a grin, but it faded slightly at the end.
Sunghoon stayed quiet.Â
âYou must really feel alone,â he said.
You blinked, startled. âWhat?â
âI hear you talking about it sometimes. On your balcony. When you think no oneâs listening. You talk about how moving here feels like a mistake.â
You looked away, embarrassed. âItâs not a mistake. I just⌠miss everything back home.â
âI get it,â he said after a second. âI was like you. Back when I was home, I wanted to leave so badly. Thought being somewhere else would fix everything. But now that Iâm here⌠yeah, I have Jay and Jake, and theyâre great, but sometimes I come back to the apartment and everythingâs fine and normal and stillâI just feel⌠empty. And I donât even know why.â
You didnât say anything for a long time.
You just watched him. His face had turned thoughtful, distant. His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere past the flickering candle, past your walls, like he was staring right through the quiet that lived in his chest.
You mumbled, âWell, yeah. But⌠I also donât regret it. Not one bit.â
âReally?â
You nodded. âYeah. I meanâIâm here doing what I love. Not many people get to do that. And I made friends with three incredibly annoying people in this building.â
He turned toward you again, eyes narrowing playfully. âSo weâre friends now?â
Your cheeks heated up instantly. You glanced away, pretending to roll your eyes. âAre we not?â
He let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled softly at the back of his throat. âIâm glad you think we are.â
âSo,â you said, tilting your head, âdoes this mean youâll finally be nice to me now? Or is that too much character development for one night?â
Sunghoon smirked, eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint. âYou want nice? From me?â
âYeah. Like a full sentence without sarcasm. I feel like thatâs a reward Iâve earned by now.â
âYou earned a participation medal at best.â
You laughed, nudging him with your knee. âUnbelievable.â
He was already looking at you againâcloser this time.
âHold on,â he said softly, âyou have an eyelash on your cheek.â
You blinked, caught off guard. âWhat?â
Before you could move, he leaned in.
His face hovered inches from yours as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch soft but sure. The pads of his fingers were warm. His eyes, now impossibly close, scanned your face with a kind of quiet focus you hadnât felt from him before. You swallowed.
Neither of you moved.
Your gaze locked, and the space between you slowly disappearedâŚinch by inch, breath by breath. It wasnât planned. It just⌠happened.
Then suddenly, his lips were on yours.
Then it deepened. His other hand pushed the blanket off his head, dropping behind your neck to pull you in, and your hands found their way to his thighs, then to the curve of his jaw. His lips parted just enough, and your pulse jumped as he moved against you.
His hands slid to your waist. He lifted you slightly and shifted you into his lap in one smooth motion. You were now straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he didnât stop kissing you, not even for a second.
The kiss grew stronger. He tilted his head, hand moving to your chin to pull you even closer, his mouth parting yours with a low inhale as his tongue brushed against yours.
Your hands moved back down, gripping at the soft cotton of his hoodie, whenâ
Click.
The lights flickered on.
You both froze.
Your faces were still inches apart.Â
You slowly pulled back, still on his lap. He blinked, eyes searching yours like he wasnât sure what just happened. Like part of him wanted to keep going, and the other part⌠couldnât believe you just kissed him like that.
You stared at each other, the silence heavy now.
His hands were still resting lightly on your waist. Yours were still fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Both of you breathless.Â
âI need to go back home,â Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but rushed. His eyes darted everywhere except at you.
You blinked. âRight. Of course!â you said quickly, nodding way too fast. âYeah. Noâtotally.â
He shifted awkwardly underneath you, face flushing as he cleared his throat and muttered, âProbably⌠need a pillow or something.â
It took you a second.
Then you saw the way he was subtly covering his lap with the edge of the blanket.
âOh.â Your voice came out small. You quickly scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning so hot they couldâve powered your apartment during the blackout.
âSorry,â he mumbled, already halfway to your door.
And then, Sunghoon stormed out of your apartment.
-
It had been a couple of days since you last properly spoke to Sunghoon. Not for lack of trying. You hadâŚmore than once. But each time, heâd give you a quick nod, maybe a polite smile if you were lucky, before promptly power-walking away.
Maybe he just wasnât feeling what you were feeling. Maybe that kiss was a fluke, something in the heat of the moment. Maybe your little new crush was painfully one-sided.
But you pushed it aside. You had bigger things to focus on.
Jungwon was coming today.
Youâd spent the entire morning rearranging your apartment, cleaning it from top to bottom, fluffing cushions and spraying perfume not just on yourself but into the air like it could somehow mask how nervous you were. You even did your hair the way he liked it, soft curls and a side part.
And then, there he was.
The door swung open and your best friend stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand and a grin already on his face.
âWON!â you squealed, running up to him and leaping into his arms.
âHello, idiot,â he said, his voice fond as he hugged you back, lifting you off the ground with ease.
The shout mustâve startled the boys in 3C, because right on cue, the door across the hall creaked open and out came Jake and Jay, both peeking out.
They spotted you clinging to Jungwon like a koala.
You beamed. âGuys! Itâs him!â
âThe famous Jungwon,â Jay said, nodding in approval as he stepped out.
âAnd you must be Jake and Jay,â Jungwon said smoothly, setting you down.
Then came the third.
Sunghoon.
He didnât move from the doorway. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Jungwon turned to him, a friendly smile still on his lips, chuckling. âYou must be Sunghoon, then.â
Sunghoonâs gaze narrowed slightly. âWhatâs so funny?â
Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. âNothing,â he said, clearing his throat. âShe just⌠told me you were like this.â
âLike what?â Sunghoon asked sharply, the scoff nearly audible in his tone.
Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. âNothing. She just said you were cool,â he said with a shrug, throwing you a teasing look.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes.
You stood there, suddenly awkward, unsure what the hell had crawled up Sunghoonâs ass. The hostility was as thick as the tension in the air and you hadnât done anything. Not really.
At least you didnât think you had.
Just stood there, arms crossed, a stiff expression on his face while Jake and Jay welcomed Jungwon like he was already part of the group. Jungwon, ever the social butterfly, fit in easily, throwing a few jokes around, complimenting the apartment despite its questionable decor, and even teasing Jake about the ugly dinosaur pyjamas he was wearing in broad daylight.
But Sunghoon?
He was frowning the entire time.
You couldnât figure it out. His jaw was tight, his responses were clipped, and every time Jungwon so much as glanced your way, you saw Sunghoonâs eye twitch.
You walked back to your apartment with Jungwon beside you, chatting excitedly about dinner plans and all the places he wanted to visit during his stay. But when you turned back, just for a second, you caught Sunghoon still watching. Still standing in the hallway.
His arms were still crossed.
And he didnât look away.
-
Sunghoon stood there, arms folded across his chest like they were the only things keeping him together. He stared ahead blankly, jaw tight, doing everything in his power not to glare a hole through the wall. He wasnât sure what he was feeling.
Sure, he knew he had a crush on you. Heâd known since the chicken pot pie, probably. Or maybe since you wrapped that blanket around his shoulders. Or maybe long before that. But what he didnât know was who the fuck Jungwon was, and why he was walking into your apartment.
âDude,â Jake muttered, throwing him a sideways look. âYou couldâve at least smiled.â
âI did,â Sunghoon growled, not bothering to hide his scowl.
Jay snorted. âThat was barely a smile. You looked like you were in the middle of passing a kidney stone.â
âWhy do I even have to be nice?â Sunghoon snapped. âI donât know him.â
âBecause your crushâs boyfriend just came into town,â Jake replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Sunghoon's head snapped to him so fast youâd think he got whiplash. âBoyfriend?â
Jay raised a brow. âNot denying the crush though.â
Sunghoon ignored him. âLet me ask you again. Boyfriend?â
Jake shrugged. âI mean⌠yeah, I guess?â
âWhat the fuck do you mean you guess?â Sunghoon hissed, dragging a hand down his face. âHe canât be her boyfriend.â
âBut he is,â Jay said with a shrug and an infuriatingly smug smile.
âNo, heâs not. He canât be. Because she and IâŚâ he paused, realising too late what was about to fall out of his mouth. ââŚkissed. Three nights ago.â
Jakeâs mouth dropped open. Jay blinked.
âIâm sorry, what?â Jake finally blurted.
âNothing,â Sunghoon muttered quickly, suddenly desperate to eat his words.
âYou canât say nothing when you just said everything!â Jake shouted, grabbing Sunghoonâs shoulders and shaking him.
âTell us right now!â Jay begged dramatically, gripping his own hair.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, flustered. âIâweâkissed. Thatâs it.â
Jay blinked. âYou know we were kidding about the boyfriend thing, right?â
Jake grinned. âJungwonâs just her best friend.â
âWe just wanted to see if youâd admit you liked her,â Jay added, eyes sparkling with way too much joy. âWhich you did.â
âNo, I didnât,â Sunghoon argued weakly. âI just said we kissed.â
âOkay, Mr Visceral Reaction every time we mention Jungwon,â Jake teased.
Jay smirked. âSay it. Say you like her.â
Sunghoon groaned, eyes shut tight as if the ceiling could swallow him whole. Then, finallyâquietly, begrudginglyâ
âOkay. So what if I like her?â
Jay and Jake immediately turned to each other with identical gasps, smacking each otherâs arms excitedly.
âOh my god, he admitted it,â Jay whispered dramatically.
Jake clutched his chest. âItâs happening.â
âYou guys are disgusting,â Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. âAnd if you keep acting like this, Iâm never telling you anything again.â
âOkay, okay.â Jake raised both hands, trying to suppress a grin. âWeâll behave.â
âBUT IâM SO EXCITED,â Jay squealed.
Jake smacked him on the shoulder. âStarting now.â
Jay nodded solemnly, rubbing his arm. âSorry. That one slipped.â
Sunghoon sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed again. âI started liking her last month⌠when you guys went back home for the week. She cooked me stir-fried noodles, and we ate together. Played FIFA. I donât know. I just⌠developed a crush on her.â
âThatâs so cute,â Jay and Jake said in unison, stars in their eyes.
âSeriously, can the two of you act normal for like three minutes?â
Jake shrugged, still smiling. âI just didnât expect you to have a girlfriend before me.â
Jay patted his shoulder. âYouâll get there, buddy.â
Jake tilted his head. âYou think?â
âYeah, you have nice eyes. Great personality.â
Jake beamed. âThatâs so kind.â
âCan we please get back to my problem for like a minute?â Sunghoon cut in, glaring at both of them.
âOh. Right.â
Jay cleared his throat and finally looked serious. âLook. We like her. Sheâs hilarious, and she makes good fucking food. And letâs be real, youâve never liked anyone. Weâve been trying to get you to double date with us for years and you just stare at your phone all the time. But with her? Youâre like... a guy with actual feelings.â
âBut now Iâm losing to Jung⌠whatever his name is.â Sunghoon sighed.
âJungwon,â Jake said. âAnd no, youâre not.â
âHow do you know she doesnât like him?â Sunghoon muttered, staring down at the floor.
âBecause,â Jay said, âif she did, she wouldnât have kissed you.â
âUnless sheâs indecisive or confused or something. I donât know.â Sunghoon exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. âMaybe I was just⌠a moment. And heâs her person.â
Jake shook his head. âIâm telling youâjust talk to her.â
âYeah,â Jay added. âBefore you spiral even harder and start writing love songs about her. But if you do, I haved like a couple of guitars you could borrow.â
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. But somewhere, deep down⌠a part of him hoped they were right.
-
You were pacing back and forth on your cheap IKEA rug, while Jungwon was laid out dramatically on your bed, arms folded behind his head, thoroughly enjoying the show.
âIâm telling you, heâs avoiding me,â you snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at no one in particular. âWe kissedâKISSED, Jungwonâand now he wonât even look at me! I wave, he nods. I say hi, he nods. I breathe in his direction, heâguess whatânods!â
Jungwon hummed, annoyingly calm. âMaybe heâs nervous. Or maybe he wants you to go to him.â
âI do go to him! And then he speed-walks away like Iâm the plague!â You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. âIâm gonna lose it.â
âMaybeâŚâ he tapped his chin thoughtfully, âyouâre just a shit kisser.â
You whipped around and chucked a throw pillow directly at his smug face.
âAsshole.â
He caught it with a grin, clutching it to his chest dramatically. âIâm just saying. Maybe you scared him off.â
âYouâre lucky I havenât strangled you with this blanket,â you muttered, grabbing another pillow just in case.
Jungwon sat up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. âYou know, sometimes I forget we grew up together because youâre so unpredictable now.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He snorted. âYou used to be fearless. Remember that Heeseung guy you had a crush on in middle school?â
You blinked. âWhat about him?â
âYou were six, and you walked up to him at recess, said âI like your lunchbox,â then kissed his cheek and ran off.â
âAh,â you said flatly, âthe good old days. That girlâs dead now.â
âSheâs not dead,â Jungwon argued, grabbing your wrists and tugging you to sit beside him on the bed. âSheâs just⌠overthinking everything. Look, if Sunghoon doesnât like youâwhatever. But if he does? Youâre missing out just because youâre too chicken to tell him.â
You glared. âI hate it when you make sense.â
âI know.â He grinned. âItâs my worst trait.â
âI justââ you exhaled, flopping back beside him. âWhat if it ruins everything? We literally just got closer. What if I say something and it all goes to shit?â
âOkay, counter-offer.â He sat up straighter. âYou tell him, or I will. I will walk down the hallway, knock on his door, and go âHi, my best friend has feelings for you, she also has performance anxiety but can cook a great bowl of chicken noodle soup.ââ
âYou wouldnât,â you hissed, swatting at his arm.
âThen do it yourself!â he laughed, dodging your attacks. âBefore I start printing flyers and pasting them in the apartment lobby.â
God. Why did he always have to be right?
âFine.â
Your hand was already on the doorknob, breath caught in your throat, just about to leave when the door across from yours had swung open at the exact same time.
And there he was.
Sunghoon.
You both froze, hands still gripping the doorknobs, blinking.
You cleared your throat first. âSunghoon.â
He blinked like he hadnât already been staring. âWhat?â
You squinted. âIs that the only word you know how to say when I call your name?â
He paused. âSorry.â
You opened your mouth to say something else but were rudely interrupted by muffled snorts from behind Sunghoon. Jay and Jakeâs heads popped out from their doorway like nosy meerkats.
âHoon,â Jay said in a loud, exaggerated voice, âwe need more eggs.â
âDesperately,â Jake added, nodding like this was a national emergency. âGo to the store.â
Then Jungwon peeked out from behind you with an equally suspicious grin. âOh, and while youâre there, can you grab some ice cream too?â
You and Sunghoon looked at each other.
âWhat is happening right now,â you said flatly.
Before either of you could respond, four hands shoved the both of you toward the elevator. You stumbled in, the doors sliding shut just as Jay yelled out, âDonât come back without snacks!â
The elevator stopped at your floor.
Your shoulders brushed as you stood side by side, awkwardly watching the floor numbers light up.
Then, finally, you broke it. âAbout that dayââ
Sunghoon shook his head quickly. âDonât worry about it. I wonât tell Jungwon.â
You blinked. âWhat do you mean you wonât tell Jungwon?â
He looked away. âWell, arenât you like⌠crushing on him? I wouldnât want what we did to, you know⌠ruin your chances or something.â
Your entire face scrunched up. âWon and I? What? Ew. God, no. Weâre friends. We grew up together. Thinking about him that way would be like incest or something.â
And just like that, Sunghoon felt like heâd been hit by a shooting star and given a second chance at life. His heart did a full backflip. You were single. You were available.Â
He couldnât help it. He smiled.
âWhy do you suddenly look so happy?â you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
âIâm not.â
âYouâre literally smiling.â
âIâm not.â
âWeâve hung out a couple of times and if Iâm being honest, Iâve never seen you smile thisââ
âCut it out.â He tried to brush it off, biting back the grin. âIâm just glad.â
âGlad about?â
âGlad that I didnât ruin your chances,â he said nonchalantly, looking up like he hadnât just panicked thirty seconds ago.
âMhm.â You narrowed your eyes at him, the golden-orange glow of the sunset casting warmth across his cheekbones. He was handsome. Frustratingly so. âWell⌠because I actually like this other guy.â
Sunghoonâs smile faltered.
âI havenât known him that long,â you continued casually, âbut he seems cool. I donât really know much about him yet.â
âThatâs⌠nice.â Sunghoon turned away quickly, jaw tight. He was definitely grimacing. Please donât let her see that Iâm grimacing, he begged internally.
âHe doesnât seem super friendly but he has a big heart. Even if he tries really hard not to show it.â
âSeems like a swell fuckinâ guy,â he muttered bitterly.
âItâs a pity though,â you sighed dramatically, still watching him. âI wish I could get to know him better.â
âWell⌠anyoneâs lucky to get to know you.â He tried to smile. It didnât reach his eyes. âI know I am.â
You tilted your head. âNot to mention⌠he lives really close to me.â
Sunghoonâs eyes darted to you. âHe does?â
âMhm.â You nodded, heartbeat accelerating.
âLike how close?â
You took a slow step toward him. âLike⌠just across the hall close.â
âOh.â He blinked. âThat close.â
Silence settled in the small elevator. You both just stood there, not looking at each other, tension hanging in the air like humidity.
Then, out of nowhereâ
âIâm just saying,â Sunghoon said, dead serious, âbut Jake sleeps with the lights on and Jay doesnât wash his hair as often as you think he does.â
You blinked. âHuh?â
âI sleep normal,â he added quickly. âI wash my hair. I do proper haircareâshampoo, conditioner, mask, mist. I could do your routine too. For you. If you want.â
You stared.
âI canât cook, but Iâll try. I can figure skate. I can spin twice in the air. Jay and Jake? Not even one spin. Jay can play guitar, Jake can sing but I can spin, okay? Without getting dizzy too.â
âSunghoon.â
âAnd those idiots never clean up after eating your food. Jay doesnât use coasters. Jake never makes his bed.â
âSUNGHOON!â
He looked at you, breathless. âWhat?â
You stepped forward. Slowly. Then, you mumbled, âItâs you.â
He blinked. âWhat?â
âI like you.â
And for once, Park Sunghoon had absolutely nothing to say.
âOkay,â he said. âCool. Okay. Iâwow. Okay.â
You raised a brow. âThatâs it?â
He nodded dumbly. âNo. Yes. I donât know. I justâholy shit. You like me.â
You smirked, the smile slowly stretching across your face. âYes. I like you.â
The elevator dinged. Neither of you moved.
He looked at you again, still dazed. âHold on, I kinda need a minute.â
You both stepped out into the empty lobby. The sun outside had just dipped below the skyline, casting a pinkish-orange glow through the glass doors. The streetlights flickered on. But you waited.
âItâs been a minute,â you said.
âI know,â he exhaled, hand raking through his hair. âBut you like me back, so I kinda need, like⌠a long minute.â
âBack?â You grinned, the corners of your mouth lifting all the way to your eyes. âSo you like me too?â
He nodded slowly. âYeah. I thought it was obvious from the, uh⌠word vomit.â
âWell yeah,â you shrugged. âBut I didnât want to assume. Didnât wanna be narcissistic.â
âI think even if you were,â he muttered, âIâd still think you were pretty cute.â
You blinked. âDid you justââ
âGross, I know,â he said quickly, face flushing. âI just said that out loud, didnât I?â
You laughed. âYeah. But you kinda canât take it back now.â
âFine,â he said, pretending to groan. âYouâre cute. Ugh. I said it again.â
-
A MONTH LATER
Jay and Jake found it fundamentally unfair. They were the ones who got close to you first. They were the ones who complimented you, made you laugh, showed up when you needed help. They loved you first or at least, thatâs what they told themselves. But here you were, doors locked for the first time in three months, cooking a full-course meal for Sunghoon to celebrate your one-month anniversary.
âYouâre not allowed to come,â Sunghoon told them flatly before slamming the door shut.
âButâ!â they shouted in unison, already mourning the steak they wouldnât get to taste.
Word on the hallway was that you were cooking the perfect medium-rare T-bone steak, paired with your signature brown sauce and a vegetable medley so crunchy and flavourful. Meanwhile, Jay and Jake sat hunched on the couch, scrolling through a food delivery app.
âIsnât it funny,â Jake said, arms folded, âhow we were the ones who befriended her first, and now weâre stuck with Burger King?â
âLifeâs unfair, bud.â
Back in your apartment, things were a little more romantic. Youâd decorated with fairy lights and candles, the room dimly lit. You were still being frugal, splitting every cost you could. But youâd managed to steal two T-bone steaks from the diner you part-timed at.
Sunghoon showed up in a black and white tuxedo, looking like heâd taken the prom theme you had placed as a joke a little too seriously.
âYou look absolutely gorgeous,â he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
âAnd you look absolutely handsome,â you grinned.
He walked over to the table and took in the spread. âOkay, what do we have?â
âI made the steaks, obviously, and then thereâs the vegetable medley⌠and your favouriteâmashed potatoes,â you giggled.
Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile. âHow did I get so lucky?â
You shrugged. âI donât know either.â
He laughed. âThe guys are pissed, by the way. You made me all this, and theyâre over there with cold fries.â
âWhat?â you said, surprised. âI made them something too! Donât worry.â
âYou did?â he raised a brow.
âI had a feeling theyâd be hungry if you were over here.â
âBabe, you didnât have to do that. Theyâre grown men.â
âYeah, but technically my assignment this week was pasta and I have too many leftovers.â
âTheyâre spoiled by you.â
âAnd so are you.â
âTrue, but Iâm your boyfriend. Theyâre just two annoying shitheads constantly trying to butt in.â
âIâll be quick. Iâll just drop the dish off and come back.â
âNo,â he said, standing. âIâll do it. You stay here.â
He kissed your forehead, grabbing the lasagna youâd tucked into the fridge. âYouâre too sweet, you know that?â
âHe walked across the hall and opened the door to Unit 3C.
Inside, Jay was mid-rant. âI just donât get it. Sunghoon isnât even that hot.â
âI mean, he is,â Jake added, âbut she deserves better, you know?â
Sunghoon cleared his throat. âI can hear you two idiots.â
They both froze, turning around sheepishly. âWe were just joking. We love you, man.â
He held up the dish. âAnd to think I came here bearing gifts from my girlfriend.â
Jakeâs eyes widened. âWaitâis that lasagna?â
âShe felt bad we were eating good without you, so she made you dinner.â
âOh my god,â Jay gasped. âSunghoon, I donât mean to be pushy, but please marry her.â
âI canât,â Sunghoon muttered. âNot when you two are constantly inserting yourselves into my relationship.â
âOkay, okay, weâll back off. Justâcan we have the lasagna?â
âAnd can you tell her we love her?â
âI am not telling my girlfriend you love her,â Sunghoon snapped. âIâve barely worked up the nerve to tell her that myself.â
âWait,â Jake said suddenly, âyou havenât told her you love her yet?â
âItâs only been a month.â
âSo⌠you donât love her?â
âI do,â Sunghoon replied, almost too quickly. âI just donât want to come on too strong if sheâs not ready.â
Jay and Jake shared a glance before shrugging.
âWhat?â Sunghoon asked, frowning. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
Jake cleared his throat. âItâs just⌠she already said it.â
Sunghoon looked up. âWhat?â
âYeah,â Jake replied casually. âYou texted her about picking up those heat packs for her cramps, and she went all soft and whispered, âGod, I love him so much.â Her words. Not mine.â
Sunghoon stood frozen in the doorway, the dish in his hands suddenly weightless.
You loved him.
âSo⌠youâre saying I should tell her?â he asked, voice quiet, almost unsure.
Jay and Jake both nodded enthusiastically. âDefinitely. Especially if it makes her our sister-in-law,â Jay added, grinning.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. âGod, the two of you can be so annoying.â
âBut you still love us,â Jay shrugged. âSo whatâs the point of complaining?â
He hated that Jay was right.
Back in your apartment, Sunghoon sat across from you, completely transfixed. You were dressed in a soft pink satin dress that shimmered every time you moved. It hugged your shoulders delicately, the neckline simple, elegant. Your hair was curled softly, pinned loosely on one side with a vintage clip, and your lips were glossed just enough to make him stare longer than he shouldâve.
And God, you looked so beautiful.
He tried to pay attention. He really did. But his heart was too loud, his thoughts too full. How was he supposed to say it?
Sunghoon had never told anyone he loved them before. Not seriously. Maybe to his mom years ago, right before he left for the city. But this? This felt entirely new.
Because sitting in front of him was someone who made every quiet part of his life feel loud again. You filled in the spaces he didnât even know were missing. You made his apartment feel less cold, his world a little less grey. And the way he loved youâGod, it wasnât something small. It wasnât a flicker or a passing crush. It was all-consuming and terrifying and the best damn thing heâd ever felt.
He loved you like it was muscle memory. Like even if he forgot everything else, his hands would still reach for yours and only yours.
âHoonie,â you interrupted gently, frowning. âYouâre not listening.â
He blinked back into focus. âSorry,â he murmured, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âI was just thinking about something.â
âWhat?â you looked up at him, ur big eyes shining.Â
Sunghoon unknowingly smiled, his eyes dripping with honey, god he loved you. He wanted to say that. So badly.
âIâŚI justâuhâfeelâŚthat,â His voice trailed off. âYou look really beautiful tonight. I mean, you always do. But especially tonight.â He hesitated, the words stuck behind his teeth.
You smiled. âThank you. You look very handsome too.â
-
Later that night, the two of you were in Sunghoonâs apartment along with Jay and Jake for the usual game night.Â
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your prom-night dress bunched awkwardly around your knees, mascara slightly smudged from earlier laughter, hair pinned half-up. Sunghoon sat slouched in the beanbag beside you, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration. Jake was lying on his stomach, legs swinging in the air, and Jay had somehow made himself horizontal on the couch.
You and Jake were a team. Sunghoon and Jay were not handling that well.
âRevive me!â Sunghoon yelled.
Jay shouted back, âIâm busy trying not to die, dumbass!â
Button mashing intensified. Trash talk flew across the room.
âVICTORY!â Jake screamed, leaping up like a madman.
You followed suit, springing to your feet and clambering up onto the coffee table in your dress. âGET WRECKED, LOSERS!â you yelled, pointing dramatically at Sunghoon. âTHATâS RIGHT, LOSERS!â
Jake joined you on the table, doing a badly timed robot dance. The two of you jumped in sync, yelling in triumph, while Jay groaned into a throw pillow and Sunghoon watched with a hand covering his mouth, half to hide his smile, half to suppress a laugh.
âYouâre all bark, no bite!â you called, face flushed, hair falling loose. âYour character died fourteen times, Hoonie.â
âI let you win!â he shot back, grinning as he sat up straighter. âI was being a gentleman.â
âSure,â you scoffed, sticking your tongue out at him. âReal chivalrous of you, sir died-14-fucking-times.â
He chuckled under his breath, eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual. Then, without a word, he stood and walked out of the room.
You blinked. That was...odd.Â
You gave Jake a gentle shove off the table and followed Sunghoon into the hallway. He was pacing outside, one hand in his hair, the other fiddling with the watch on his wrist.
âHoon?â you asked, stepping out and gently closing the door behind you.
He jumped slightly, turning toward you. âYou scared me.â
âYou okay? You just left so suddenâŚâ
âIâuhâyeah. I was just trying to figure out how to say something.â
You tilted your head, arms crossing over your chest. âSay what?â
âNothing,â he mumbled with a shrug.
Your expression softened. âAre you mad at me?â You sighed. Maybe your little victory dance had been a bit much. âHoonie?â
âNo, baby, I could never be mad at you,â he said quickly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
âThen whatâs wrong?â
âNothing, I justâŚâ
You stepped closer, teasing lightly, âDo you want me to redo my victory dance? I could. You just have to beatbox, and Iâll take it from there.â
That made him laugh.
âCome on,â you grinned, starting to move your body in the most ridiculous way. âIâm pretty sure I shouldâve been a dancer instead of a chef.â
He laughed again, this time louder and then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
âOh my god, I love you.â
You blinked. Your smile faded. Your brain, for one impossible second, completely short-circuited.
âDid you just say you love me?â you asked, heart hammering.
His eyes widened in sheer panic. âNo?â
âI heard it.â
âYou misheard.â
âOh my god,â you gasped, practically vibrating. âYou love me. You love me!â
âFine!â he burst out, throwing his hands up like he was under arrest. âI do! I love you, okay?â
You smiled, âYou do?â
âOf course! I love the way you talk too fast when youâre excited. I love how you make my idiot friends feel like they matter. I love that you make me feel whole. That when Iâm with you, I donât feel hollow anymore. You⌠you make me feel like Iâm not empty.â
You grinned so wide it hurt. âThatâs because youâre not.â
âI used to be,â he said helplessly, gesturing vaguely like he was mourning his past self. âI was mysterious. Brooding. Sexy, even. And now? Now I smile at cat videos you send me on TikTok. Look what youâve done to me. This is all your fault.â
You scoffed, âMy fault?â
âYes! Who else could it be?â he said, breathless, like the truth had been waiting at the edge of his tongue for too long. âYou walk into my life with that stupidly perfect smile, that laugh that makes everything feel lighter, those eyes that somehow hold the whole damn sky and now Iâve got feelings. Big ones.â
He took a shaky breath, pausing for a minute.
âI used to think I was fine on my own. But now? I get out of bed just because I know I might see you. I hear your knock and my whole day lights up. For the first time, I feel like I know what living really means. Itâs you. Loving you. Thatâs it.â
You leaned in and kissed him right in the middle of his rant.
He blinked, dazed.
âYou sure talk a lot for someone who usually says nothing,â you murmured, forehead resting against his.
âI do it when Iâm nervous,â Sunghoon whispered, and then kissed you again.
âI find it cute,â you mumbled between kisses.
Sunghoon grinned into the next kiss, backing you up step by step toward your apartment door, his hands finding your waist. âGod,â kiss âI love you,â another kiss âso much.â
You let out a breathless laugh. âYouâre very handsy for someone who claimed to be brooding and mysteriou.â
âI told you,â he whispered, lips brushing your jaw as he reached behind you, fumbling for the door handle, âyou ruined me.â
Your back hit the door with a thud. He fumbled with the knob like he was drunk on you, eventually pushing it open and guiding you inside.
He kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.
You were still laughing into his kiss. He walked you backward until your knees hit the bed and you dropped onto it with a squeak.
He climbed over you, hands on either side of your waist, face flushed, heart in his throat.
âI fucking love you,â he said again, like it wasnât real until he repeated it.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes sparkling. âI love you too.â
â˘Â°. *ŕż PAIRING â riki nishimura x fem!reader
â˘Â°. *ŕż SYNOPSIS â in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue.
â˘Â°. *ŕż GENRE â one-shot, friends-to-???, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au
â˘Â°. *ŕż WORD COUNT â 20.9k (yeah, i went kinda crazy)
â˘Â°. *ŕż CONTENT WARNING(S) â violence(fighting), cursing, high school, mc has a shitty ex-bf, cheating(not riki obviously), almond grandma(mentioned), a singular cigarette is smoked, mc is shorter than riki, riki can also pick mc up, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, mc has hair (texture and length unspecified, but can be put up), objectification of girls(not riki tho), mc objectifies boys back, dreamy riki, not suggestive or smutty but mc is absolutely a horndog, mc is her own worst enemy, mc using riki to get back at her ex but he likes it, i did not edit this lmao
â˘Â°. *ŕż EXTRA NOTES â inspired by euphoria and my hs experience, riki is a loser and a lover, implied that mc is 18, eunseok(riize) is an absolute asshole in this sorry guys i needed a villain, enha are all in the same grade, mc wears makeup and has a manicure of an unspecified length, mc has sick lore, also shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for digitally holding my hand thru this <3
â˘Â°. *ŕż SOUNDTRACK â busy woman by sabrina carpenter, hiss by megan thee stallion, low by sza, i did something bad by taylor swift, without you by lana del rey, agora hills by doja cat, girls like me donât cry by thuy, only girl (in the world) by rihanna, safety net by ariana grande, snooze by sza
part two
AT THE BEGINNING OF 2024, you lost for the first time in your life.
Finding your boyfriend of two years making out with a girl you know too well as Lee Nayeon, your best friend, on the Carrara marble countertop of your family home that you had trusted her to take care of for eight days while you were in New York was not on your New Yearâs resolution. You had planned to stay to see the Times Square Ball Drop with your mom and stepdad, but you realized youâd prefer to spend it with your boyfriend.
He didnât seem to share the same sentiment, considering he has his tongue down the traitorous bitchâs throat. âAre you fucking kidding me?â
She screams, both of them startled by your appearance and scrambling off of each other. You feel an urge to slam her face into the precious marble they were defiling, but you stay where you are. âAre you fucking kidding me?â
âIt isnât what you think, babeââ
The speed at which Nayeonâs eyes filled with guilty and horrified tears fuels your rage, and behind you, Bahiyyih appears.
âLook whoâs backâoh?â She stops beside you, arm hovering to wrap around you until she sees what youâre seeing. âEunseok? Since when were you back from Stanford?â
âSince heâs been fucking Nayeon, apparently.âÂ
The barbie-haired girlâs eyes widen, and as she looks between the two she notices the same things youâre painfully aware of. Nayeonâs smeared lip gloss, her tears, Eunseokâs undone jeans, and the sparkly residue on his mouth. âOhâŚâ
Nayeonâs whimper as she slides off the counter snaps you out of your daze, âYouâre crying?â The angry tears forming in your eyes go unshed as you walk closer to her, âYou fuck my boyfriend, and youâre fucking crying?â
Anger turns to fury when the boy in question gets between you and her, pleading to let him explain, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you away, only for you to jerk away, âOkay, I wonât touch you, just let me explainââ
âHow long?â
âWhat? Babe, this isnât-â
âHow long have you been fucking him?â Your question is directed at who you thought was your friend, who avoids looking at you as she silently weeps. Scoffing, you realize you won't get a straight answer and choose to reel in your urge to beat her face in with one of your stepdad's bowling trophies thatâs on display a few steps away. âGet out.â
âBabe, let meââ
The attempts at holding in your temper are lost on you, quickly forgotten as you walk over to the fireplace, grabbing the fire poker hanging up and holding it up. Nayeon lets out a scared, oh my God, while Eunseok tries to calm you down, demanding you put down the weapon. Instead of that, you walk past them, out the front door, ignoring Bahiyyihâs, âNo, no, noââ
Eunseokâs red Mustang sits prettily in the driveway, and you can hear him realizing what you intend to do, but itâs too late for him. You slam the poker down onto the hood of his car, âGet. Out!â
âYou crazy bitch, what is wrong with you?!â He screams, and you find yourself screaming back.
âTake your side piece and get. Out!â You slam the poker down again, and in minutes heâs got Nayeon in the passenger seat and is peeling out of your driveway like itâs on fire.
If rage had a physical human form, you would be it. Clenched jaw, a deadly weapon in your hands, and a white-hot fury in your eyes that promised to make those two regret crossing you.
The amount of junk food you have consumed in the last week wouldâve sent your almond grandmother into an early grave. Your other friends had been visiting as often as possible to keep you from being alone in your thoughts for too long, offering to take you out or go shopping, yet the thought of possibly seeing either of those backstabbing fuckers in public made you sick to your stomach.
Pride didnât allow you to cry, so instead of sadness and heartbreak, which you definitely felt but would never admit to, you felt pure seething fury.
âSo Iâve been thinking,â You take a drag from the cherried slim between your fingers, exhaling towards the sky as you lean against the side of the pool.
From her spot on the lawn chair sunbathing, Belle says. âYou canât kill them.â
âI can, youâre just a party pooper.â
âThe party should not include going to prison for murder.â Her statement makes you roll your eyes, âYou arenât built for prison, babe.â
âWell, that I can agree with,â You sigh, the water shifting around you as you turn to face her, arms resting on the edge, âbut that wasnât what I was thinking about.â
Pausing, you take one last drag from your cigarette before smothering it into the stone, âOne of the things about him that pissed me off to no end was his temper, right?â
Remembering the many conversations and rants had and heard, Belle nods, âMhm.â
âSo what if I date someone I know will piss him off?â
âIf thatâs what you think will help you heal, thenâŚâ She trails off, and you groan.
âWhy canât you just say itâs an amazing idea?âÂ
âGirlâŚâ Sighing, she asks, âI just donât think a third party should be involved.â
âHe already got one involved, so why canât I?âÂ
Making a face that screams, well youâve got a point, Belle then adds, âI think you should find someone who pisses him off but they should be aware of your plans. Donât lead someone on.â
A cunning smile grows on your glossy lips, âIâm not.â
âOh, so you already have someone in mind?â She gathers with a growing smile of disbelief, âPlease tell me it isnât one of his frat brothers.â
You grimace at the thought, âEw, no. The only one of them remotely dateable is Wonbin and thatâs meeting the bare minimum standards.â
Shrugging, Belle offers, âAt least they're hot?â
âHot does not equal dateable, plus I hardly believe any of them would date their friendâs ex anyway.â Shaking your head, you push yourself out of the pool and sit on the ledge to let yourself drip dry, âWhat about one of the lacrosse guys?â
âYou say no to a frat boy but not a lacrosse player?âÂ
âI know, I know, but at least I have eyes on them instead of hoping they're being loyal in another city.â You put a hand above your eyes to block out the sun, âMe knowing the coach kind of helps, no?â
âIf loyalty is your goal then good luck, bitch.â Belle snorts, sipping from the pink bendy straw sticking out of her Dr Pepper bottle, âLacrosse players are mansluts.â
âI know that, butâŚâ You push yourself to stand, grabbing the towel Belle holds out when she hears the sound of your feet leaving the water, her eyes still closed and covered by a pair of Prada sunglasses, âI have a few options.â
âThe only, as you put it, âremotely dateableâ-â she emphasizes those two words with quotations using her perfectly manicured fingers, â-lacrosse players are Jay and Sunoo. Jay is taken and Sunoo friendzones every apretty girl he meets.â
âI donât know, Jungwonâs cute.â You think aloud, placing a hand on your hip, âHeâs just a tight ass.â
âAnd therefore undateable.â She finishes for you. âWhat about the baseball team?â
âEunseok plays, Iâm trying to not be reminded of him.â
Belle hums in acknowledgment, âLet me look at the Lacrosse team's insta.â
You pull the claw clip out of your hair as you wait, patting your body dry until she holds out her phone for you to look at. Taking it with your dry hand, you examine the team photo.
You recognize the majority of them, rolling your eyes at a few familiar ones before your eyes land on one particular member of the team you donât recognize. âWhoâs number 10?â
Handing it back, you walk over to the oversized Hall & Oates shirt youâd stolen from your brotherâs room(he left a lot of his clothes when he moved out, something about âfinding his style). You hear the tap of her nails on the screen a few times before she answers, âSome guy named Niki? Or Riki? He doesnât have any posts on his profile but in the photos heâs tagged in heâs called either of those names.â She gasps, a cackle escaping her lips, âSome of these are his mom tagging him in baby photos, please come look!â
Leaning over, you peek at her screen, âOh my god, I would die.â You canât help but giggle as she scrolls, this womanâs Instagram is a gold mine of childhood photos of this guy. âOkay, I feel weird looking at his baby photos, show me the other ones heâs tagged in.â
âOn it.â Belle affirms, âLetâs go inside, too.â
âOkay, so-â Belle stands before a whiteboard, one that your stepdad used to use before upgrading his office to have a massive one mounted on the wall, a pink dry-erase marker uncapped in her hands as she looks down at her phone for reference. After a quick text to the group chat, a brief summary of your plan was explained when everyone got to your house, and it seemed that everyone was invested. â-are we all in attendance.â
Jongseob is eating cereal in the white tufted chair in the corner of your room, Eunchae is in the bean bag, and Bahiyyih is on the floor between them, lined up like a good audience.Â
âWeâre making a pros and cons list for Riki Nishimura,â Belle announces, writing his name on the whiteboard as âNikiâ between the two names, âfeel free to interject when you have a pro or con to list.â
âCon,â Jongseob raises a finger with his mouth half full, swallowing before saying, âHis nickname is stupid.â
âOpinions donât count, stupid.â Eunchae rolls her eyes, earning the finger from the boy in the chair.
âBut like, why is his nickname Niki?â Hiyyih asks, and Jongseon lets out a nearly intelligible âthank you!â.
âI assume itâs because there's another Riki on the team,â Belle guesses, and the three nod. You sip the Baja freeze youâd had them pick you up on the way to your house and hum.
âMake an âunsureâ column,â you instruct, and she does so, writing ânickname kinda dumbâ under it.
âPro, heâs on the Lacrosse team so heâs fit,â Belle starts, writing it on the board under its labeled column.
âCon, heâs on the lacrosse team.â
A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.
âPro, from the photos heâs tagged in and the team photo, heâs at least 6â.â Eunchae adds, Belle nods and writes âtallâ.
âHow can you tell?â Jongseob asks, and she rolls her eyes like his question is the most idiotic thing sheâs ever heard.
âBecause I pass Heeseung in the halls from 5th to 6th period and in these photos, this guy looks a little taller than him.â She explains, and you hold a hand up when Jongseob opens his mouth to insult her.
âCon, no instagram posts.â
âPro, I just found a pic from Jakeâs insta and I can see him in the back. Heâs got abs.â (Thank you, Bahiyyih.)
By the time the sun has set, the whiteboard is packed, the pros heavily outweighing the cons. You had even searched the large group chat you were added into on Snap in freshman year full of girls you barely know who dated around and kept each other informed, and found his name zero times.Â
âI think heâs the one.â You sigh.
Jongseob snorts, pulling the cherry soda vape from his lips and asking, âWhy do you think Eunseok will hate him?â
âHe hates Lacrosse guys âcause he didnât make the team, I figured it would hit a soft spot.â You smile and shrug.
âHold on, the plot thickens,â Bahiiyih announces, eyes on her phone screen. âDo you guys remember that guy Nayeon had a crush on in freshman year?â
A chorus of confirmation causes her to grin, âIâm pretty sure it was this guy.â
You push yourself off your bed to peek over her shoulder at record speed, âNo fucking way. How do you know?â
âI backread in the group chat, and she sent a picture of him, look!â She turns her phone for everyone to see, and from the slightly blurry and oddly angled photo that she obviously tried to take secretly, you can certainly see a resemblance, âAm I hallucinating, or is that him?â
âNo that definitely looks like him,â Belle agrees, turning her head to face you with her jaw slack and a look, âHeâs the one.â
âHow are we gonna convince him to fake date you, though?â Jongseob asks, and you roll your eyes.
âLeave the planning to those qualified, Seob.â
You, all things considered, would call yourself a professional at annoying men. From years of experience before your brother moved out, you learned every which way to annoy him, and more importantly, boys in general. You are also smart enough to understand that his best friend, Jungkook, is your ticket to getting closer to the lacrosse team, aka Riki, even if you have to deal with Jakeâs flirting and Heeseungâs annoyingly beautiful smile, you will get through it purely out of spite.Â
When you get to school extra early the day before the semester is set to start, parking your car and turning your sights to where you knew he took the team to practice in the mornings, and where you knew he would be even if he and your parents got back from New York just last night. âA hoe never gets cold.â You mumble the chant to yourself over and over as you turn off your carâs engine and the warm air stops blowing.Â
You curse rather loudly when you open your door and are met with a frigid breeze that makes your body clench to preserve its warmth. âFuck, fuck, fuck.â
With your school bag on your shoulder and a thick white puffy jacket lined with fleece that keeps your torso warm, you speed walk toward the field, which the student parking lot happens to be in relative close proximity to.Â
The sight of you approaching is enough to stop a good half of the players in their laps around the field, a typical start to Jungkookâs diabolical training regimen. The distraction you pose catches the man of the hourâs attention, and when he turns to face the source, he seems shockingly displeased. With a barked order to keep running thrown at the stopped players, he turns to you again and asks, âWhat are you doing here?â
Your lips part in dramatic offense, âYou seem unhappy to see me and I donât appreciate it.â
Rolling his eyes and pulling two hotpacks from his bag on the ground and handing them to you, he repeats, âWhat are you doing at school so early?â
Shrugging, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets and glance at the team, catching the eye of Sunoo and winking as he passes by. âIâm bored and single. What better way to spend my time than watching lacrosse players train in frozen hell?â
Jungkookâs face tells you heâs far less than impressed, and he seems at a loss for words. You decide to let him in on your plan, not seeing any harm in doing so.
âOkay, Iâm trying to ruin Eunseok's day, every day, by reminding him I have a hotter, taller, and more athletically skilled boyfriend than he ever was or could be,â You start, âAnd Iâm calling in a favor.â
âWhat favor? You donât do shitââ
âOkay then, tell me more about him or Iâll tell my brother about what really happened to his Audi last Christmas.â The Audi in question had a large scuff on the back bumper that Jungkook had paid you three hundred dollars to take the blame for, which while your brother was upset, you knew heâd be far angrier if he knew the truth. Jungkook knew that too.
If the cold wasnât already doing the job, you would say he lost all color in his face. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you take the moment of his speechless horror to take another glance at the team.Â
When you meet the eyes of the familiar boy in a dark red hoodie with the number 10 on it you feel your face warm up involuntarily. Instinctively, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, something thatâs never happened to you, and quickly turn back to the coach (not before catching sight of the slight tug at the corner of #10âs plump lips). âSo?â
Jungkook sighs, âWhich one?â
âNumber 10.â
Immediately, the man shakes his head, âNuh-uh.â At the raise of one of your eyebrows, he quickly explains, âHeâs one of my best players, I donât need him being distracted by my best friendâs kid sister.â
You roll your eyes, âIf you have a better option for me, then please, do share.â
âWhat about Jungwon?âÂ
âTight ass,â You say barely a breath later, eyes watching said player jog past, lingering on his backside as he moves away, âIn more ways than one.â
âOkay, stop.â Jungkook says, disgust on his face, âWhat about Taehyun.â
âHeâs Dr. Evil and Jungwon is his mini-me, theyâre both so strict theyâd never agree.â
He makes a face, point heard, before suggesting one last player in a last-ditch effort, âJakââ
âIf the name Jake Sim leaves your mouth Iâm setting your Mercedes on fire.âÂ
His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs.Â
âSo, tell me about him.â
âWhy donât you go ask?â
You give him a look that read, donât be fucking stupid.
âUgh, fine. What do you wanna know?â Jungkook caves, blowing the whistle around his neck, signaling the team to start the next warmup, pushups.Â
âWhatâs his favorite color?â You ask, obviously pulling his leg considering the grin on your face.
âNishimura!â He immediately calls, and number 10 looks up from his position on the ground. You donât look longer than a moment, your spine straightening up automatically when his eyes meet yours once again, âWhatâs your favorite color?â
You donât look, but you can bet money that he probably looks confused considering your brotherâs best friend tells him to âjust answer the damn questionâ, and then you hear his voice.Â
âBlack.â
Fuck, this is bad. The little shit in you wants to say that black isnât technically a color, that itâs the absence of such, but the thought of looking at him and saying something like that makes your palms go clammy and your heart beat out of your chest. His voice is deep, and with the exertion in it from the warmup, you think you might just have to throw yourself into an active volcano.
âMine is green, coach!âÂ
âI didnât ask, Huening.â Your lips flatten, your hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to giggle. Instinctively, you look at Kai, whose ears have gone red in embarrassment, and you take pity.
âI like green too, Kai.â You say loudly for him to hear, and his head perks up to look at you.
âI like blue!â Jake pipes in, all too eager to include himself.
âNobody asked, Jake.â Jay grunts, on his hundredth push-up and losing patience.
Jungkook blows the whistle again, âBurpees.â
âYouâre a monster.â You muse, watching the team lose all faith in a heavenly being as they do what he says. Every jump grants you the sight of rock-hard abs, so you're not really complaining.Â
âStop ogling the team, itâs gross.â Jungkook hisses, âWhat else do you want to know?â
âGirlfriend?â
âNot that I know of.â
âType?â
He makes a face, âI donât know. Heâs a teenager, probably anything that breathes in his direction.âÂ
âAge?â
âTurned 18 in December, the team threw him a pizza party.â
âBeginning or end of December?â You ask quizzically.
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook huffs, âWhy does it matter?â
âI need to know if Iâm dealing with a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Please, please, tell me he isnât a Capricorn.â
âJesus ChristâŚâ Thinking about it, Jungkook answers, âI think it was in the first week?â
A sigh of relief leaves you, âThank god. I cannot stand an earth sign.â
âIâm an earth sign.âÂ
âAnd it took me ages to forgive you for that.â
âOkay, go away.â Jungkook shakes his head, obviously annoyed and desperate to get rid of you.
âBut Iâm notââ
âNishimura.â Dread fills you, and before you can stop him from opening his mouth again, number 10 stands up.
âYeah, Coach?â
âWalk this one to her car.â
Confusion is etched on his pretty face, but he nods, jogging over as you curse at Jungkook quietly enough for him and the lord to hear but not the approaching lacrosse player.
When he stands just a few feet away, waiting for you to start walking with him, you turn to face him and feel a jolt in your stomach. Heâs tall.Â
You already knew this but seeing it with your eyes is a different experience than seeing photos of it. Get a grip, bitch.
Offering him a condescending smile, a defense mechanism to keep yourself from humiliating yourself by showing how affected you are, you shoot your brotherâs friend the finger and begin to make your way off the field.
You pass Riki, not even sparing him a look as you do so, but listening to make sure heâs following. With his much longer legs, it isnât long before heâs walking just slightly behind you, not at your side but close enough for you to sense his presence. When you make it to your car in what felt like awkward silence to you but was probably nothing to him, you heave a sigh of relief when she unlocks and you open the door.Â
Not sitting yourself inside yet, despite the cold and the fact your body hurts from it, you turn to face him.
âThis yours?â He asks. God, that voice again.
You hum in confirmation, âHer name is Manon.âÂ
âNice name.â He compliments, and you tilt your head, looking between his eyes and glancing down to his mouth every so often. He swallows almost unnoticeably, âWhatâs yours?â
Resisting the urge to ask if he truly didnât know, you conclude that would sound far too conceited, and tell him your name.Â
He tries it out, and you can see the tip of his tongue flick across his teeth before he says, âIâm Riki.â
âI know.â You say shamelessly, âYou can go back to practice, now.â
If you didnât know any better, you would think the slight smirk that tugs at his lips is of annoyance, but with the way his eyes look down your face every other second, you know exactly what youâre doing. He blinks, turning his body slightly to walk away, âYeah.â
You wait until his back is to you to slide into your driverâs seat, quickly pulling your phone out to text the group chat.
bitchqueen: guys this is bad
bitchqueen: heâs HOT
bitchqueen: i canât do thisÂ
Glancing back up to see if Riki left, you sigh in relief when heâs nowhere to be found. You look back down when your phone dings.
bellenotdelphine: eunseok bought nayeon a van cleef bracelet
bitchqueen: okay bitches im back
myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations
Going back to school wasnât so bad, or at least it isnât as bad you thought it would be. You were the only licensed driver in your friend group, and as such you expected to have a full car every morning, picking up Belle first as she lived down the street, and then Jongseob and Eunchae, who grew up neighbors in a neighborhood you pass on the way to school. Bahiyyih usually gets a ride with her brother, though she does complain his truck still smells like the musky car freshener he spilled back when he got it.
After parking and putting on your shoes that youâd taken off because you hate driving with them on, you had Belle hand you your backpack from at her feet and the four of you exited the car into the frigid weather. âJesus fuck, why is it so cold?â
Belle huddled by you as you sped walked to the school doors, where you finally took notice of the stares directed your way. Ignoring the staring was the easy part, having a freshman walk up to you and ask, âHey, is it true you destroyed your boyfriendâs car with a crowbar?â was hard to avoid.
Belle seems ready to tell them to fuck off but you smile sweetly, âIt was a fire poker, actually, and destroyed is a strong word. Also, who the fuck are you?â
You got in enough trouble with your parents when they found out, these people could at least get the facts right. When the 14 year old boy opens his mouth to answer, you make a face, âI donât actually care.â
Ignoring that encounter, you would say it was a relatively normal day. AP classes already gave you packets and mounds of homework, but with the semester classes you took last year you only had 5 periods of the day before being allowed to go home, perks of being a senior, you guess. The fact almost every class you had was an AP class was a definite downside, though.
The only AP class you didnât have happened to be Medical Microbiology, which you had dreaded to take but it was the same teacher you had last semester for A&P who loved you enough to exempt you from the final without you having to submit the form like everyone else, and luck was on your side it seemed because while you were seething to find that Nayeon was in your 5th period class, the sight of the seating chart and the name labeled next to yours made you decide to postpone ingesting whatever deadly chemical Mrs. Wilson had in her locked cabinet.
Nishimura,
Riki
The short curly-haired woman seemed overjoyed to see you, of course, and like clockwork you handed her a small pink box containing her favored cookie from the shop down the road, earning yourself a nice sidehug.Â
You know a way to a teacher's heart, which had made your high school experience better than most could imagine, though Mrs. Brooks from Pre-AP English freshman year was a cunt and you gave up on making her like you within the first month. Sitting down at your seat, which happened to be somewhat close to her desk, you were looking down at the packet sheâd left stacked on the table by the door for students to take from as they came in when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
Growing up with a brother gave you a good understanding of how boys worked, and when you saw no one in your periphery, you looked to the opposite side, seeing the familiar lacrosse player. You dread small talk, though when the late bell rings as he sits down, you thank the heavens you donât have to.Â
Moving your hair off your shoulder, you took a pink mechanical pencil from your matching pencil case as Mrs. Wilson started speaking.
âHey.â He leans ever so closer, whispering to get your attention, âCan I borrow a pencil?â
The raised eyebrow you send his way makes his raise his own, and you roll your eyes, grabbing one of the orange ones you never used and handing it to him, when you notice his look between the two pencils, you say, âCanât risk you taking one of my good ones.â
He rolls his eyes this time, but starts writing his name with it anyway. At first, he uses his right hand, but ten minutes into the lecture about the staining process, he switches hands.
It isnât annoying until he starts intentionally brushing your elbow with his own, and you know itâs intentional because when the word youâre writing comes out jagged and you look at him, he has a smug look on his face while avoiding meeting your eyes, snickering softly when you erase the word you deemed too ugly to continue writing. You turn in your seat, facing away from him and rotating your paper with you as you cross one leg over the other, it was easier writing this way anyway.
With your new angle, you can see Nayeon glancing over every now and then in the corner of your eye.Â
Now, to say your reputation wasnât ruined but in fact reinforced by everyone finding out about what you did to Eunseokâs car, was a factual statement. You didnât like the term âanger management issuesâ which is what the therapist your mother made you see last year used to describe your behavior.Â
In your humble opinion, Jaclyn Delvacchio deserved the bruise you left on her brow bone and is honestly lucky you didnât get a good enough hit in before the history teacher pulled you off of her, maybe she shouldâve kept her mouth shut about Eunchaeâs braces.
Then, there was Kaley Graham in your freshman year, a sophomore who told you to stay away from your then-situationship, Eunseok, to which you responded to her threats by grabbing her head and slamming her face into the window of an active classroom. You thought the photos of her face smashed against it were funny, the school and your suddenly-present father did not.
So really, youâre already labeled a crazy bitch, violent, âuntameableâ(as you'd heard uttered by boys you wouldn't touch with a twenty foot pole). You might as well act like it.
When the bell rings 45 minutes later, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally time to go home.
You donât notice heâs waiting for you until youâve gathered your things and taken your keys out. He leans against his desk, waiting for you with observant eyes that land on the key-fob in your hand before moving up to your eyes. âFree period?â
You nod, âas are the next two.â
He whistles low as the both of you walk out, âI didnât get any free periods, youâre lucky.â
âLacrosse?â You ask, and he nods with a small grimace.
âAnd I failed Chem last year, so Iâve got to take it again.â He sighs, âIâm not great with all the math.â
âAP?â You ask innocently, and he snorts.
âGod no. Regular.â He states, raising a brow as he adds, âDid you take AP?â
You hum, nodding, âYeah.â
âSo, if I come to you with a radiation equation, would you help me?â He asks in a way that almost feels teasing.
âItâs called a nuclear equation, and I suppose I could be persuaded.â You stop in front of the double doors at the front of the school, and from how others are rushing through the halls you assume the bell is going to ring soon.
âCould I try to persuade you after lacrosse practice? Iâm gonna be late for Chem.â He says, though his tone is anything but worried, just like the smirk on his face.
âThereâs a cafe next to the nail salon down the road, I might be there when lacrosse practice is over.â You hint, before turning to leave without another word.
After texting the group chat about the plan to meet up with Riki after his practice ends, you felt good. Flirting came easy, especially when you wanted something, which obviously was the case with him, but you werenât oblivious to the fact he was flirting back.Â
hueningbarbie: damn u act fast
bitchqueen: i'm just a girl who knows what she wants and gets it ;)
hongchae: do you think heâll agree?
bitchqueen: if he doesnt i think jake is my only other option
bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win
bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option
bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen
You sit in a worn out booth facing the big wall of windows lining the front of the hole-in-the-wall cafe. Part of you regrets choosing it considering Gloria, the old lady who always takes your order and brings you your food, seemed all too excited when you said you were waiting for a boy that wasnât Eunseok.Â
You try not to look up every time you see a car pull into the strip center of cafes and food joints, only glancing when you see a black Jeep pull into the parking spot next to your car, quickly acting like you werenât looking when the familiar lacrosse player hopped out of it with wet hair and the same sweatshirt with his jersey number and name on it.
It isnât until he slides into the booth across from yours that you look up from the menu you werenât even reading, âHow was practice?â
He sighs, leaning back into the booth and you feel his shoe brush yours, âCoach had me on offense,â he says, rubbing his side with a wince.
âWant some tiger balm?â You ask nonchalantly, reaching into your purse to pull out the small container of it you keep to help with the pain you get from looking down and taking notes, not to mention scrolling through social media, too.
He takes it with a whispered please, and you try not to watch as he moves his hand under his shirt to rub it in. Bahiyyih was right.
âAny drinks, mija?â Gloria appears beside your booth with a knowing look on her face as she looks between you two, âand you?â
âDr Pepper, please.â You order with a smile, and she affectionately rubs your arm with a nod before looking at Riki, who repeats you.
When Gloria walks away to get the drinks, Riki seems curious, âI come here a lot.â
Nodding, he says, âI figured. Whatâs good, here?â
âOh, everything is good. Do you recognize anything on the menu?â When he shakes his head, you try not to act offended, and say, âThe enchiladas are really good, but if youâre picky I would get the tacos.â
âMm, Iâll get an enchi-â he struggles to mimic your pronunciation of the word, and you laugh quietly.
âEnchiladas?â You ask with a cheeky smile, and he scrunches his face up in shame, âItâs okay, itâs hard to say.â
âYouâre good at it.â He states, not an opinion, a fact.
âI am.â You agree, and the smile on his face is enough to send your heart into your throat. Get. A. Grip. âLike I said, I come here a lot.â
âSo, what do I have to do to persuade you to help me pass Chem?â He asks after Gloria sets down your drinks and takes your orders(sending you a hidden wink as she turns to walk into the kitchen), and you realize now's the time to bring up your plan.
âSo, I actually have a proposition for you.â You admit, and he leans forward a little, curious to hear it. When you say it, albeit a slow and awkward version of what you intended to say as the nerves got the better of you because of that damn look in his eyes, you swear you almost see his face drop a little.Â
âSo you want toâŚfake date? To make your ex jealous.â He sounds unsure, and you quickly shake your head.
âNot jealous, I kinda just want to ruin his day...everyday.â You state, âIâm the crazy bitch, youâre the hot athlete. Match made in heaven, right?â
He seems to take the âhotâ comment well, crossing his arms and tilting his head, âSo, what are the rules? If weâre dating, do we have to go all out or just spread the word?â
âSpreading the word only works for so long,â you say, pleased by his question, âKissing is a bit much, especially since itâs only been a few weeks since I dumped him. If we move too fast everyone will think youâre my rebound. We should take it slow.â
âSoâŚâ he thinks for a second, âHolding hands?â
You hum in agreement, âGet me flowers, too.â
âWhatâs your favorite kind?â The question shouldnât throw you off, but it hits you rather suddenly that youâd never been asked that by a guy, especially not Eunseok.Â
âLilies.â You say, âAnd babyâs breath.â
He nods, taking a mental note of that just as Gloria comes out with your food. The enchiladas were a win, he devoured them like he hadnât eaten for years, though there was a pause in the process when he insisted on trying the salsa you had poured generously over your own food, which was far too spicy for him, to your delight.
You exchanged numbers outside of the restaurant after paying(he had picked up the bill before you could grab it), and as you were putting a name to his number, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.Â
Laughing at the look on your face, he subtly motions behind you, and when you glance back you find about five girls no older than 16 piled into a Corolla and staring, but snapping their eyes away and hiding when you meet their gazes.
Turning back to him, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat when you see heâs already looking at you.
âGood catch.â You cough, ignoring the smug smirk growing in his face, âIâll text you.â
âOkay.â He says, waiting for you to move away before he does, and you find yourself sucking in a deep breath and turning to get into your car.
âSo he agreed?â Belle asks from the passenger seat of your car, âI told you, teenage boys are easy.â
You pull into your parking spot in the school lot, pulling down the ugly parking pass they make you hang from the rearview mirror that you always tuck back up when you leave because it's an eyesore, âWe tried to work out the technicalities last night but I fell asleep on the phone.âÂ
Eunchae gasps as if scandalized, âYou fell asleep on the phone with him? Thatâs so cute.â
You groan, âI know, itâs embarrassing!â Getting out of your car, you try to withhold a groan when you immediately spot Jake practically skipping over, a cheeky grin on his face. Shit.
You donât hide your displeasure when he calls your name, shooting a giggling Belle the finger before turning to give him attention you know youâd regret, âYou and Niki?â
âIs that any of your business?âÂ
He starts giggling, the grin on his face widening as he starts hopping around like an excited puppy, âNo way! You gotta tell me how he fiââ
âJake!â A girl from the cheer squad calls his name from across the courtyard, and he whirls around to wave with a flirty smile.
By the time he turns back to you, youâre already walking away with the girls. âWeâre talking about it in 2nd!â
âNo weâre not!â You call back, waving your hand dismissively. Eunchae snorts, hooking her arm with yours as the three of you walk through the entrance. Jongseob had come in early with his other friend group for club prep, so his presence is sorely missed.Â
âDo you think heâll get you flowers?â The junior on your arm asks, and you shrug.
âI mean, maybe.â Your answer makes Belle roll her eyes.
âManifest it, orâŚâ She stops in front of your 1st class of the day, ready to drop you off, and a grin overtakes her face, âBitch.â
You step closer to see when she sees, and at your assigned seat is a bouquet of the same flowers you told Riki you liked, pink and white lilies with baby's breath sprinkled in. Habitually, you bite your lip to withhold the smile, sliding your arm out from Eunchaeâs and walking in.
The girl who sits next to you, Hikaru, has an almost fox-like grin on her face as she sees you finally arrive. She says a few things that you hum in response to as you pluck the tiny folded card from between the blossoms, opening it and allowing Belle and Eunchae to peek over your shoulder to read it with you. âShut up!â Belle practically squeals.
For: Pretty
âGod.â You sigh, closing the note and grabbing the bouquet from Eunchae who had picked it up to smell them, âI wonder where he got these.â
âI donât know but they look expensive.â Belle muses with a grin and you hum in agreement with a smile.
A text tone dings from your phone, a familiar one that makes you groan. When you look at your screen your jaw clenches and shifts.
spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.
You suspect your mom told him about how you get off early now, cursing the woman mentally as you send back a simple thumbs up to her ex-husband.Â
Between 1st and 2nd period, you had put the bouquet in your car to avoid walking around with it, and youâre so very thankful you did with the annoying grin on Jakeâs face as you sat across from him in College Algebra.
âYou and Niki.â He repeats with a cheeky raise of his brows, his grin unaffected by the look of utter distaste on your face at his presence.
âWhat about Riki and me?â You ask monotonously, clearly unimpressed with the prompt. Â
âYou guys datinâ?â He asks cheekily, clearly already aware that you went on a âdateâ, but wanting to hear it from you.
âIf I say we went on a singular date will you leave me alone?â You ask with a sigh, using your knuckle to massage your temple.
Jake shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, âNot a chance.â
You groan softly as the bell rings, and the sigh of relief is quickly smothered with your hopes of escaping this period without having to answer a question as a familiar substitute walks in, Mr. Morrell, a nice old man who usually just lets everyone do their own thing. Heâs your mortal enemy now, youâve decided.
The moment he announces those wretched words, âfree dayâ, your fate is sealed.
Jake is snickering like a freak, leaning over his desk as if you arenât just a few feet away from him, âYou and Riki.â He giggles, and you look at him as if heâs possessed and it disgusts you.
âPlease, leave me alone.â You say with a bit more emotion than your last few words.
Jake is too busy giggling like a little girl to listen or even hear what you said, nearly cutting you off as he asks, âWhere was your first date?âÂ
âThe Mexican place next to the nail salon down the street.â You answer monotonously, just wanting to get it over with at this point.
âDid he pay? He paid.â Jake asks then nods to himself as he says the last statement.
âYes, he paid.âÂ
âOoo, did he kiss you? Nah, Nikiâs way too pussy to do thatââ
You cut him off with an invisible twitch of your brow, âHe gave me a solid kiss on the cheek.â
Itâs as if youâve broken the already clearly leaking dam of pure giddy delight. Heâs practically squealing with a breathy and high-pitched ânaur way~â, whipping out his phone you assume to text their group chat. Heâs bouncing in his seat, and you make a face as you pull your desk an inch away from his desk to stop feeling the movements.
You open your coloring book you bring with you to classes when you have no other work, you have other work but youâd rather not do that while Jake giggles and grills you.
The rest of the period is filled with him asking questions you either answer shortly or choose to not answer at all. (âDo you think heâs the one?â)
You of course could not see was that across the campus Riki was hiding his phone in his lap wanting to sink into a hole and die as Jake spams the team group chat like a live tweet of his, though strongly condemned by him, weirdly thorough interview like your barely started kind-of-relationship is his favorite sitcom.
âThank you, lord.â you sigh as the bell rings, freeing you of your torment as you grab your gathered and organized bag to pull over your shoulder and hasten out of the classroom before Jake can get you. (Yes, like a boogeyman.)
It seems you canât catch a break as you find out Park Sunghoon is in your 4th period. Park Sunghoon, jersey number 23, goalkeeper of the Decelis Demons. Also, youâve decided, another mortal enemy.Â
You donât even know how you hadnât noticed him all semester or the semester prior, given how awkwardly talkative he is. Sitting beside you with a cute but unsettling smile, holding out his hand like he was meeting a celebrity, which you werenât exactly complaining about but the smile was weird. He was almost just as bad as Jake, if not worse simply because he freaked you out a bit. Seriously, why is someone so beautiful so fucking weird. His moles look like constellations but something about his vibes unsettle you.
It isnât like you donât have weird friends, youâve watched Jongseob stuff fifty chile-coated gushers into his mouth purely because Eunchae told him he couldnât. Weird usually isnât the issue, except it is in this scenario.Â
Escaping him and getting to go to your teacherâs aid period was like a shining of heavenâs pure light on you. You find yourself grading papers in the back of the classroom while your freshman-year Latin teacher plays Hercules in New York on the projector, a purple glitter pen in your hand as you go through the stack of exams.
âHey,â one of the freshmen a cluster of desks away calls to you in a semi-hushed voice, halting the movement of your glitter pen and directing your attention to them, âyour boyfriendâs waiting at the door.â
âI donât have a boyfriendâ, parts your lips before you suddenly remember that Riki exists and halt before it can leave them. Looking to the closed door of the classroom, you find the boy in question peering through the small window in the door, and raise an inquisitive brow.
He only waves at you, a clear signal he wants you to come out and talk to him, part of you wonders why he knew where you were but memories of the phone call the night you both agreed on the whole âfake datingâ thing, exchanging school schedules and discussing preferences, come back to you and you nod lightly.
Mrs. B looks up from her laptop as you cap the glitter pen, âDonât be gone too long.âÂ
Shooting her a smile and a small âyes maâam, thank youâ, you get up from the desk and shoot the snickering freshmen a weak glare as you walk to the door, opening it just enough to side step out of the room and shut it behind you.
âHey.â is the first thing he says, his voice is deep despite its softness, mindful of the other classes going on in the language hall as well as the other teens clearly trying to get a good look at him as the door closes behind you.
You say it back just as softly, âHey.â
He smiles just a bit, a boyish quirk of his lips that has your heart picking up, get a fucking grip, bitch. âIâm sorry about Jake and Sunghoon.â
The mention of them has you pressing your lips together with a nearly-sympathetic smile, âItâs okay.â
âNo, theyâreâŚa lot.â He chuckles softly, though his words are still genuine, âI donât want you to get scared away.â
Something in your heart flutters, âDonât worry about it.â You say with a soft laugh that has his eyes darting to your smile. âSunghoon wasâŚweird, but I already knew that Jakeâs a pest, soâŚâ
He laughs at your words, head shaking slightly, âStill, Iâm sorry about them.â
âItâs fine, really.â You say with a shake of your head. A student exits the Spanish class down the hall, pausing at the sight of you and Riki before walking in the direction of the bathrooms.Â
Riki spares them little more than a brief glance over at the sound of the door shutting behind them before his gaze is back on you. God, why is he looking at me like that, you think just before he speaks again, âDo you bowl?â
The question catches you off guard, and you tilt your head and ask, âLike do I know how or do I do it often?â
âBoth.â
âKinda and no.â You answer, âWhy?â
He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, your eyes darting to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the movements of his arm and a few veins are visible up his arm, âSome of the guys and I were going this weekend, IâŚfigured Iâd ask.âÂ
His words are finished with a bit of hesitance that you have little time to linger on as you question with a slight laugh, âDid they ask you to bring me?âÂ
You see a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears as his elbow drops yet his hand lingers on his trapezius, creating yet another visual that has you wanting to repeatedly slam your forehead into the wall beside you. He shakes his head slightly, âNo, I, uh, wanted to bring you.â
The words are said with a soft laugh like heâs a bit embarrassed with himself, and you find your teeth catching your bottom lip to hold in the despicable grin that you know should not be growing on your face right now. You just broke up with your long-term boyfriend, wake up.
If Rikiâs eyes dart to your lips, you donât see it as you glance to the door of your class. âThenâŚyeah. Iâll come.âÂ
Your answer has his lips forming a pretty grin that he quickly covers up with a bite of his bottom lip and a nod, taking a step back as he prepares to leave, âCool. I can pick you up, yeah?â
Yeah, you can. You nod, âJust text me.â
âYeah, Iâll text you.â He finishes with another nod, and you giggle softly at his repetition. His eyes soften at the sound, another thing you donât notice as you see the student returning from the bathrooms, glancing your way every so often as they approach the closed Spanish class door.Â
Riki sees them too, and as they look over again, he leans down to press his lips to your cheek in a quick but sweet kiss, âSee you next period.â
He shoots you a swift wink as he backs up again, and you put it together that he kissed you because of the third party in the hall. You exhale a soft response as he turns to jog off, clearly not meant to be gone from class as long as he has been, âYeah.â
As soon as he turns the corner and youâre alone in the hall, you close your eyes for a long blink to bring yourself back to Earth. A soft curse leaves your lips as you turn back to the door to re-enter the Latin class, heart racing and hands slightly clammy.Â
Clammy.Â
The fact that a boy is making you feel so damn juvenile with the way you canât help but react to his words and face and voice and eyesâ
The walk to 5th period fills you with a sense of dread before you remember who else is in that class. Mrs. Wilson greets you happily as she sets up the activity for the day on the projector, which alerts you to the fact someone is standing by your seat who doesnât belong there.
Riki has a look of confusion on his face as he looks up at Nayeon, clearly a bit confused by whatever is leaving her lips. The teacherâs greeting alerts the both of them to your presence in the doorway, where you paused at the sight of her. The corners of Rikiâs lips quirk up at the sight of you, but Nayeon looks like sheâs about to puke.
You donât even speak. Something about the sight of pure panic in her eyes gives you a boost of serotonin but the fact that sheâs standing in front of your âboyfriend's desk, speaking to him. Oh, youâre pissed.Â
Yes, you are aware he isnât actually your boyfriend and the two of you hadnât even discussed publicly referring to each other as such, but the principle still stands. You want to punch her face.
Unfortunately, Mrs Wilson would be quite upset if you slammed Nayeonâs head into the whiteboard, and you like your teacher too much to debate starting a fight in her class.Â
Your eyes follow Nayeonâs every move as she hastily removes her hands from where they were on his desk, avoiding your burning stare as she moves to her own seat.Â
Walking to your desk, you smile at Riki as if what just happened has zero effect on you despite the burning fury in your gut, and sit down beside him. âHey.â
Your soft greeting has him saying it in kind, shifting in his seat to lean back and see you better, âYou know her?â
His question has you tilting your head in a faux innocence, âMhm. Why?â
Riki has a slight knowing look on his face as he watches your reactions, âShe had a lot to say about you.â
âWhat did she say?â You ask as if itâs a simple question, like you arenât dying to know and anxiety isnât clawing at your chest making it harder and harder to make your hands not shake.Â
He shrugs with a purse of his lips, a slightly cheeky smile forms on his face as he asks, âYou jealous?â
A scoff leaves your lips and your eyes roll before you can even think to hold the sass back, âJealousy implies sheâs better than me in some way.â You say with a defiant cross of your arms, âand she is not.â
âThen whyâd you glare so hard?â He asks, clearly amused by both your words and body language.
You think, why did I not tell him about Nayeon?
The answer? Eunseok and Nayeonâs little affair had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit. Anxiety claws at you everytime you even imagine Nayeon interacting with Riki, and the fact that you just walked in on her saying something to him that your pride wonât allow you to ask him about just makes it all so much worse for you.Â
The truth is that the irrational part of your brain, the one that often wins the battles against its more logical other half, made the thought of Riki knowing you were betrayed by your best friend all the more sickening to imagine. Itâs embarrassing. Humiliating.Â
âI wasnât glaring.â You argue, and Riki raises his brows as if to say âreally?â before he huffs softly in amusement and the bell rings.
âYeah, you were.â He says with a lingering curiosity in his gaze before he looks to the board as Mrs Wilson starts class. Your first instinct is to argue, to be stubborn like you always are, but the lingering anxiety in your chest makes you want to never speak again just to find some kind of peace.
The entire time you take notes you arenât truly absorbing any information, your brain is stuck on every possible thing that Nayeon could have said to him and how youâre gonna find out without directly asking either of them if possible.
You feel sick and heâs not even your real boyfriend.
Oh, fuck.
Between realizing you want Riki and remembering that you have to go to lunch with your father, you simply didnât have enough time to achieve as much mental preparation as youâd like before lunch. The Italian restaurant you find yourself sitting inside with a menu in your manicured hands is a relatively âfancyâ establishment, at least if the $35 fettuccini alfredo was anything to go by.
Your dad is the one paying, so you arenât all that mad about the prices considering the look in his eyes is enough to ruin your enjoyment of the basket of breadsticks between the two of you. If you thought it would make a dent in his bank account youâd order another plate of mozzarella sticks just to spend his money, but the satisfaction just wouldnât be there.Â
Punching his face might feel better.
âAm I gonna have to put you in anger management again?â His anger is hushed and composed, but the shift in his jaw and the patronizing look of disappointment on his face belied his composure. Always being hyper-aware of how people view him is one of the things you hate about your dad. His attitude takes a higher spot on the âWhy You Hate Your Dadâ pyramid, though.Â
âYou canât âput meâ anywhere.â You bite back as you dip the breadstick in your hand into the small bowl of marinara, âEunseok deserved it.â
âYou donât get to decide what people deserve.â He argues, still so patronizing.
The feeling of being talked down to is one you're all too familiar with when it comes to your father. The man canât accept his own faults, one of which being how shit of a father he was and is. You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your breadstick, half-drowning his words out with your own and the other half remembering every single thing coming from his lips to throw back in his face next time he cries about how you never reach out to him.Â
âEunseok is a smart and successful, young man. And you throw it all away forââ
Ah, you almost forgot how much more your father likes your ex than you. Offering him internships, a place at his firm when he graduates, none of which heâd ever even mentioned to you. You wouldnât ever work for or with your father, but the fact he had never spoken a word about any chances to help you gain experience like he did your ex was as infuriating as it was unsurprising.
âI didnât throw shit away.â You snap, âHe cheated on me, you keep skimming over that detail, father.â
âIâm not skimming over it, itâs irrelavent.â He exhales, trying to calm his slightly raised voice, âAnd you know I hate it when you call me that..â
âIrrelevant? Oh, Iâm sorry, should I have stayed with a boyfriend that sleeps with my best friend?â You scoff, sipping your Dr Pepper, âAnd if you wanted me to call you dad, you should've acted like one.â
âHey.â He warns, yet you only roll your eyes. âReaching out goes both waysââ
âI know you did not just say that to me.âÂ
ââand I am your father, so you speak to me with respect.â He finishes, voice raising slightly in frustration before he settles it back to a more composed volume.
âNo.â You shake your head, âThatâs not how shit works.â
âYes,â He bites back sternly, âIf you want me to keep funding your life youâllââ
Normally, you let your father say whatever it is he wants to say, tell him you really donât care what he thinks and then for about a month he doesnât text you. Then itâs âI want to improve our relationshipâ and âI feel like youâre drifting awayâ. Today was not a normal day, however.
âThen cut me off.â You say with a shrug, âYou canât hold that shit over my head like I ask for the money you send, which you only send because you know youâre a shit father and you feel guilty.â
He doesn't respond, his jaw shifting, so you continue.Â
âAnd considering the fact that you are a cheater yourself, why the fuck would I listen to a word you say when it comes to my own love life?â You ask, not really caring that you arenât exactly speaking quietly, âEunseok deserved a fire poker to the face, and I used it on his car instead. Which is what Mom should have done when she found you with the nanny.â
âQuiet down, youâre making a scene.â He hisses, and you tilt your head and look around as if you give a single fuck. âI already took care of Eunseokâs car, which will be taken out of your allowanceââ
Your eyes narrow at his words, âYou paid to repair his car?â
Your father doesnât skip a beat as he continues, ââYes, I did. And you donât get to throw the biggest mistake Iâve ever made back in my faceââ
âYes, I do.â
ââNo, you donât.âÂ
âYes, I do.â You argue back stubbornly, continuing before he can speak over you again, âAnd you paid for Eunseokâs car, the same boy who fucked one of my best friends for months while actively dating me and you donât see a single problem with that?â
âHis parents were discussing pressing chargesââ
âThatâs when you tell them to go fuck themselves.âÂ
He sighs at your words, clearly sick of your temper (which you inherited from him), âYou need to start handling your emotions better, youâre graduating this year.â
âI have literally witnessed you throw a chair in anger, get someone else to say that to me.âÂ
He seems ready to respond, when the waiter comes with the food, and you speak before he can, politely asking if you can get a to-go box for it instead. Your father doesnât seem to have the guts to speak as the waiter glances between you both unsurely before nodding, âOf course.â
He takes the dish back and the moment he is out of ear-shot, your father says, âWe arenât done talking.â
âI am.â You shrug, clearly not willing or planning on sitting here any longer than you have to.
The waiter is back out with your to-go container wrapped in a bag that has mint-chocolates inside as well as a complimentary box of breadsticks that youâll probably eat while crying your eyes out later. You ignore the stern orders from your father to sit back down, thanking the waiter with a polite smile and promptly walk out of the restaurant.Â
The tears of frustration start falling the moment youâre in the safety of your car, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put the bag of food in the passenger seat and pull out of the parking lot, turning âthis is me tryingâ by Taylor Swift all the up as you drive the highway back home. You ignore the texts from your father, as well as the calls.
Youâre at the red light before turning into your neighborhood when Rikiâs caller ID shows up on the screen of your console, and you debate even answering, but wipe your eyes and clear your throat as you press the green answer button, âHello?âÂ
Your voice is more stable than you expected it to be, and Riki responds in kind, âHey, I just got out of practiceâyou okay?â
âMâfine, whatâs up?â You say with an attempt at a sneaky sniffle, the thought of him knowing youâre crying is too humiliating. Part of you is disappointed he somehow could tell that something was up. The other part of you, the vulnerable and hurt teenage girl with daddy issues and a yearning to be listened to and understood, begs to just break down.Â
He doesnât seem to buy it, you hear the sound of keys jingling and then a car door opening and shutting, then heâs speaking again, âYou sure?â
The light turns green, and you finally turn into your neighborhood, âIâm fine.â Itâs almost a snap, one you instantly regret as you quickly say, âSorry, justââ
âItâs okay,â He assures, and you feel even more guilty, more tears threatening to fall as your bottom lip trembles again. Youâre pulling into your driveway as he continues, âWanna talk about it over lunch?â
âI just got lunch with my dad, actually,â You say with a soft, bitter laugh, voice wavering and a soft curse leaving your lips the moment it does, âFuck, sorry, this is just weird.â
He seems a bit panicked by the way your voice only turns more tearfilled as you apologize, âHey, donât worry about it, seriouslyââ Thereâs a sound like a knock on the other end, and you hear him whisper something like âgo awayâ before heâs continuing, ââsorry I teased you earlier today, I, uh, thought I made you mad so I was calling to make up for it.â
A soft sob leaves you as you laugh with it, âIâm not mad about that, but I did wanna talk about it,â You sniffle, âAbout Nayeon, I mean.â
âYou donât have to, I was just messing with you.â You can imagine him shaking his head slightly as he speaks, âShe didnât really say much, just asked if we were dating.â
âWhatâd you say?â You find yourself asking.
He hesitates before answering, âYeah.â
It sends a weird hot jolt to your stomach and your worried lips turn into a girlish smile that you quickly wipe off your face, âThatâs okay, yâknow. Iâm pretty sure my friends have been telling everyone youâre my boyfriend, so the whole âtaking it slowâ shit is out the window.â
He chuckles on the other end and it flips your stomach like a fucking pancake, âGreat, Iâm not that type anyway.â
(Thereâs a feral voice in the back of your conscience that screeches like itâs a beast gnawing at the walls of its enclosure.)
Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes shut like youâre trying to come back to Earth and not hang up out of pure flustered reflex. You force out a response, âJust means we have to make it more believably genuine.â
âWhatâs your plan, pretty girl?âÂ
Oh, you want to bang your head into the steering wheel. âDo you mind coming over? I wanna discuss it in person but I just got home.â
You jaw slackens in shock at your own words, looking into the rear view and mouthing at yourself; Bitch, what the fuckâ
âYeah, sure. Whatâs the address?â His response is so natural and unperturbed the catastrophizing your brain has done in the last second slips away and you silently scream.
A second later you respond like normal, âIâll text it to you.â
âOkay, Iâm on my way, then.â
When the two of you hang up after a few more words, you realize what you have done and quickly turn off your car, grabbing the food and your purse and hastening into the open garage, struggling with the doorknob and pressing the garage door button before entering.Â
Your room isnât messy, per say, but your duvet is covered in cat fur, and you donât even know if Rikiâs allergic to them or not. âGus, can you move, please?â You ask your cat as you begin to pull the duvet off your bed but he remains unmoving on the end of your bed.
He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh.Â
After taking too much time carefully moving the duvet from under your cat and hurriedly tossing it into the laundry room while grabbing your spare to put on the bed instead, the doorbell rings.
With one(at least three) last look in the mirror to check your appearance, still in the outfit you changed into for lunch with your dad, you open the large iron front door.
âHi.â You greet softly with a slight smile, and Riki has one himself that almost looks shy.
He bites his bottom lip and says back, âHi.â
As you let him in, you look down at the door handle, waiting for him to step inside before shutting it behind him.
As his eyes move to assess his surroundings with slow steps, you catch up to him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling his hand from his pocket as you tug him along toward your room with unhurried steps. He lets you, though you hear the chuckle under his breath.
âThatâs Gus. I hope youâre not allergic to cats.â is the first thing that leaves your mouth as you pull him into your cleaned room(though youâll have to un-ass your closet later), and he gasped softly.
The voice that comes out next is higher in pitch and softer as he hesitantly approaches your loafing cat, who sniffs his fingers for a second or two before headbutting them. You witness Riki practically melt as he coos at the feline that happily receives his pets.
âWanna guess his full name?â You jest, and he hums, looking over at you curiously but not halting his petting of Gus. âGazpacho.â
Riki looks elated by the information, grinning so prettily you want to use the vintage lotus lamp on your nightstand to beat your head against, and he softly goes back to cooing, âHi, Gazpacho.â
A giggle laugh leaves your lips that you quickly cover with your mouth and a quick avert of your gaze, eyes landing on the whiteboard against your wall. The fucking whiteboard.
âOh, fuck.â leaves your lips before you can stop yourself but youâre already moving to grab the object of your doom, âDonât look, close your eyes.â
Your demands are met with pure boyish defiance, and his eyes follow your movement to your closet door, opening it just enough to toss the whiteboard inside and quickly shutting it. âYou saw nothing.â
He slowly pulls away from Gus with a growing suspicious smirk, âIâm scared to ask.â
âItâs just a whiteboard, nothing of consequence written on it, or anything.â You say with a purse of your lips.
âA whiteboard?â He questions with a tilt of his head.
You nod, moving away from your shut closet door and taking the opportunity to change the subject, âMy stepdadâs a physicist.â
âOoh, thatâs cool.â He says with a thumbs up, taking the moment to move his eyes around the room as he had been distracted by the cat, âThis is a nice house.â
âThank you,â You respond softly out of instinct, âMy momâs a big lawyer too, soâŚ.â
âAh, right, I think Jake mentioned that once.â He nods, sitting in the bean bag(youâll have to break the news to Eunchae later).
You hum, sitting on the edge of your bed beside Gus and petting him, âWhat do your parents do?â
He has a slightly shy grin on his face as he says, âThey own a pretty big dance studio.â
âThatâs super cool.â You compliment with a tilt of your head, âDo you dance?â
If you could audibly coo at the redness blooming on the tips of his ears as he nods slightly you would, but you settle with a giggle that has him squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, âI do, yeah.â
âI did ballroom for like, ten years.âÂ
Itâs as if youâve revealed a hidden treasure, and he asks, âDo you still know how?â
You immediately hold up a defiant hand, âI am not showing you, and itâs been years.â
He whines, hands moving to clasp pleadingly, âAww, câmon, Iâll take you to my familyâs studio and show you mine.â
This piques your interest and you ask before you can think about it, tone playfully flirty, âTaking me to meet your parentâs so soon?â
He chuckles softly, voice still so low, âLike I said, I donât like slow.â
It takes a few more minutes of pointless chatter(and many more flirty remarks that make you want to scream into your pillow) before you get to the core of your problems today; Nayeon.
âOkay, wait, soâshe and your exâŚwere together?â He reiterates to better understand, and you nod, and he then asks, âIn your house?â
âWhy do you think I took the fire-poker to his car?â You shrug, and he has a half-grin on his face.
âI thought that rumor was exaggerated.â He admits, giving you an appreciative once over like heâs impressed, âYouâve got a temper, huh?â
âIâve never overreacted in my life.â You say with a slight raise of your hands.
He nods with a slight smirk as if he absolutely believes you, ââCourse not.â
âAnyway, she had a major crush on you in freshman year, literally fantasized about your wedding and everything,â You blissfully expose, âAnd I already had my eyes on you so it all worked out.â
He nods with a hum and slight smirk, âI see, so Iâm sweet revenge.â
âThe sweetest.â You playfully flirt, and his eyes turn into shy crescents.
âSo, who were your other options?â He asks after a few seconds to let the pink on his cheeks fade, and you grin.
âJealous?â You mimic his tone from earlier in the day and he rolls his eyes.
âYeah, I am.â The admission falls naturally from his lips and your gut flips, âCurious, too.â
âJungkook didnât want me to choose you.â You respond with a tight smile.
His eyes widen, âCoach knows?â
âHeâs got an idea.â You respond with a slight shrug.
âDid he suggest anyone else?â
âJungwon,â You answer easily, snickering softly when he groans and throws his head back, âbut heâs a tight-ass, heâd never agree.â
Riki snorts, and with a shrug says, âYouâre pretty, I think heâd come around.â Your raised brow has him quickly changing the subject with a curious tilt of his head, âYou already had your eyes on me, though?â
His question is cheeky and paired with a matching grin that makes you roll your eyes and fight nervous giggles as you say, âI never said that.â
âReally? âCause I heard you say it.â He seems much too determined to not let you move on from the subject but your mother loves to compare you to a mule in regards to obstinance.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â You shrug innocently.
He leans forward slightly in the beanbag, his elbows resting on his knees, and that grin of his only widens. âYouâre a terrible liar.â
âAnd youâre annoyingly persistent,â you counter, but thereâs no real bite behind your words. You stand up, moving toward your desk under the guise of rearranging things that donât need rearranging, mostly to avoid his knowing gaze.
Riki tilts his head, watching you with amusement. âYou know, if youâre trying to throw me off, itâs not working.â
You glance over your shoulder, trying not to crack under the weight of his attention. âThrow you off from what? Iâm just tidying.â
âRight. And Iâm just here for the cat.â
âGood. Gus loves the attention,â you quip, folding your arms over your chest as you turn back to him.
âBut Iâm not done yet,â he says with mock seriousness, shifting in the beanbag like heâs settling in for the long haul. âWhatâs so bad about admitting youâve been into me? I mean, look at me.â He gestures to himself in a way thatâs more playful than cocky, but you still roll your eyes so hard itâs a miracle they donât get stuck.
âWow, humble too,â you shoot back, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.
âHey, just stating facts. Canât help it if you have great taste.â He pauses, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you squirm. âBesides,â he adds, his voice dipping lower, âyouâre kind of making it obvious now.â
Your hands find your hips in defiance. âHow, exactly?â
âOh, I donât know,â he muses, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between you. âThe way you got all flustered when I asked if you still know how to dance. Or how you wonât look me in the eye right now.â
You refuse to back down, lifting your chin as you meet his gaze. âIâm not flustered. And Iâm looking at you right now, arenât I?â
He smirks, leaning just a little closer, his tone teasing. âSure you are. But youâre still not answering my question.â
You blink innocently up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his eyes dart below your nose. âWhat question?â
Riki lets out a soft laugh, a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he shakes his head. âYouâre impossible, you know that?â
âIâve been told.â You shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the proximity is starting to get to you.
He watches you for a moment, his smirk turning into something softer, though no less mischievous. âAlright, fine. Iâll let it go. For now.â
âOh, how gracious of you.â Your sarcasm earns you a grin as he steps back and flops dramatically into the beanbag again, sprawling like he owns the place.
âGotta keep you on your toes, donât I?â
âMore like get on my nerves,â you mutter, though the twitch of your lips gives you away.
âSame thing.â He winks, and you hate how charming he looks doing it.
The smirk he gives you as he leans back has your stomach doing somersaults, but you refuse to let him see you sweat. Instead, you turn your attention to Gus, pretending to be more interested in your cat than in the boy currently making himself at home in your lifeâand your head.
As Riki lounges back in the beanbag, his eyes drift lazily around the room again, lingering on the neatly arranged desk and the wall beyond. âYouâve got a pretty organized vibe for someone who just tossed a whiteboard into a closet like it was a bomb.â
You freeze mid-pet, your hand hovering above Gusâs head. âYouâre still on about that?â
âI mean, itâs a whiteboard. What kind of secrets could it possibly hold?â His tone is teasing, but the glint in his eyes says heâs not letting it drop.
You debate lying, but the little smirk playing on his lips tells you he wonât believe you anyway. âNothing important. Just⌠research.â
âResearch.â He repeats with an arched brow, âLike, âsolving world hungerâ research or me research?â
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. âI hate you.â
âNow I really have to see it.â He starts to rise, and you spring to your feet, blocking his path to the closet.
âRiki, no.â
âRiki, yes.â He steps closer, towering over you slightly, his grin widening as you try to stand your ground.
âDonât make me sic Gus on you,â you warn, pointing toward the loafing cat.
âGus and I are best friends now. Heâd never betray me.â Riki gestures toward the cat, who yawns dramatically like heâs staying out of it.
âTraitor,â you mutter at Gus, which earns you a laugh from Riki.
âCâmon,â he cajoles, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly soft tone that makes your heart do weird flips. âWhatâs the worst that could happen if I see it?â
Your resolve wavers, but the idea of him actually reading the whiteboard is too mortifying, âIâll have to kill you.â
His grin only widens at your threat, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. âWow, straight to murder, huh? Didnât realize you were so passionate aboutâŚwhateverâs on that board.â
âYou have no idea,â you mutter, crossing your arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It doesnât work. Rikiâs grin turns smug, like he knows he has the upper hand.
âNow I really need to know.â He leans closer, and the proximity sends your heart into overdrive. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him as he tilts his head, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. âWhat if itâs, like, a shrine to me or something?â
The gasp you let out is equal parts offense and panic. âYou think way too highly of yourself.â
âI donât know,â he teases, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. âIâve heard people do wild things when theyâve got a crush.â
âBold of you to assumeââ
âYouâre avoiding the question again.â He cuts you off, smirking as he steps back just enough to lean casually against the end of your bedframe, his arms crossed. âWhatâs on the whiteboard, really?â
You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. Thereâs no way youâre admitting to the utterly ridiculous pros and cons list your friends talked you into. Not yet, anyway.
âItâs⌠study stuff,â you finally say, your tone lacking conviction. âSchool projects, maybe some physics equations. Boring things you wouldnât care about.â
âPhysics equations?â he repeats, clearly unconvinced. âYeah, because I look like the kind of guy whoâd buy that excuse.â
âHey, Iâm trying here,â you snap, which only makes him chuckle again.
âI can tell. Youâre terrible at it.â His grin softens slightly, the teasing replaced with something that feels a little too close to genuine. âRelax, Iâm just messing with you. You donât have to tell me.â
You blink at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone but immediately suspicious of it. âReally?â
âSure.â He shrugs, though thereâs still a playful glint in his eyes. âBut now I have leverage. Youâll owe me later.â
âOwe you for what?â you demand, but the smug look on his face says you wonât get an answer you like.
âFor letting you off the hook, obviously.â He straightens and gives you a wink before heading back to the beanbag like he didnât just upend your entire equilibrium. âDonât worryâIâll think of something good.â
You stare at him, your jaw slightly agape, as he makes himself comfortable again. Gus hops onto his lap, clearly picking sides, and Rikiâs attention shifts back to your cat like nothing happened.
âYouâre infuriating,â you mutter, though you canât quite keep the fondness out of your voice.
He glances up, his smirk softening into a smile thatâs entirely too charming. âAnd you love it.â
You hate that you do.
The week passes by with a dreadful speed, and after four whole days of anxiety-induced stomach aches, migraines, and a few breakdowns in the dark privacy of your room at midnight, it is the weekend.Â
It is the weekend, and Belle, Hiyyih, and Eunchae bear witness to a minor crash-out.
âIâm gonna puke.â You mumble, sitting on the ottoman at the center of your walk-in closet with your face in your hands as the older two walk around you, going through your options for an outfit.
âKeep that shit in bitch,â Belle says without looking away from the clothes hanging in your closet, pointing a finger blindly at you in warning, âYou puke, I puke.â
Eunchae moves towards your hunched form from her spot on your bean bag(which she moved into your closet to sit on), snickering softly as she sits beside you and brings her hand to rub circles on your back. âThere, there.â
A part of you wants to snap at her that she isnât funny, but the act is weirdly comforting so you let her continue. Bahiyyih speaks from where she is in front of your shoe shelf, âWhy do you have so many shoes?â
âMy mom gets sent them monthly by some guy she was a lawyer for a while ago,â You exhale as you drop your hands into your lap, eyes still closed as you contemplate opening them ever again, âShe hates wearing pumps now so she gives them to me or regifts them.â
âWhat if you wear these?â Hiyyih holds up a pair of Louboutins, and you open your eyes to see before looking at her like sheâs crazy.
âNot only is it bowling and Iâm gonna have to change shoes anyway, but Iâm not wearing a So Kate for something that isnât even a date, Hiyyih.â
She pouts her bottom lip as she puts them down, and Belle pulls a top from the collection of them hanging in your closet and holds it up in question towards you. After a few seconds of staring at the article of clothing, debating if you remember looking cute in it or not, you nod and she tosses it into the âmaybeâ pile.Â
Two seconds later, youâre hunching over and blindly grabbing a pillow near you to scream into.
Eunchae pats your back again, her snickering turning into full-blown laughter. âFeel better now, drama queen?â
You lift your head just enough to glare at her over the pillow. âNo.â
âGood,â Belle says, tossing another shirt into the âdefinitely notâ pile without even showing it to you. âBecause if you puke or scream again, Iâm calling your mom and telling her youâre being insufferable. She might take those Louboutins back.â
âThatâs not funny,â you mumble into the pillow.
âItâs a little funny,â Hiyyih chimes in, holding up a sequined crop top like itâs the Holy Grail. âOkay, but seriously, what about this? It says âIâm fun,â but not, like, too fun.â
Eunchae tilts her head at it. âIt also says âI moonlight as a disco ball.ââ
You groan, sitting up straight and snatching the crop top out of Hiyyihâs hands. âWhy is this so hard? Itâs bowling! I should just wear sweatpants and call it a day.â
Belle spins around with the precision of a K-drama villain. âDonât you dare. Do you want to show up looking like his cousin who just rolled out of bed, or like the mysterious, unattainable enigma that you are?â
âUnattainable?â you ask with a hesitant furrow of you brows.
âYeah, unattainable, as in: unattainable by anyone else but him,â Belle clarifies, like itâs the most obvious thing in the world. âYouâre playing the long game, babe.â
âYou say that like this is some kind of psychological warfare,â you deadpan.
Belle shrugs. âIt kind of is.â
Eunchae raises a hand like sheâs in class. âBut what if heâs bad at bowling? Like, gutter ball after gutter ball bad? Do you let him win or destroy him?â
You pause, genuinely considering it. âDestroy him, obviously.â
âBold choice.â Hiyyih nods approvingly, tossing a pleated skirt into the maybe pile. âWhat if youâre bad, though?â
You gasp. âThatâs not even an option.â
Belle smirks. âSo confident for someone who hasnât touched a bowling ball since middle school.â
âYouâre supposed to be helping me, not roasting me!â You grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her. She dodges with ease, laughing as it smacks into the closet door behind her.
âRoasting you is my way of helping you,â Belle retorts, unfazed. âItâs called multitasking.â
Eunchae picks up the discarded pillow and hands it back to you, patting your head like youâre a distressed pet. âThere, there. At least youâll look cute while you embarrass yourself.â
âWhy are all of you like this?â You drop your head back into your hands, half tempted to cancel the whole thing.
âBecause we love you,â Belle sing-songs, pulling out a denim jacket that you forgot you even owned. âNow shut up and try this on. Weâre on a schedule, ho.â
You sigh, begrudgingly taking the jacket as the three of them continue their chaotic brainstorming session around you. Itâs not helpful in the slightest, but somehow, it makes you feel a little less like throwing up again.
By some miracleâor maybe just the collective force of Belleâs bullying, Eunchaeâs comfort, and Hiyyihâs endless suggestionsâyou finally land on an outfit. The moment you pull the halter top over your head, the three of them fall silent, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one.
âOkay, thatâs cute,â Belle finally declares, hands on her hips like she personally designed the top. âItâs giving effortless, but still hot enough to make him sweat.â
âItâs super cute on you,â Hiyyih chimes in, tilting her head as she appraises the outfit.
âIt is,â Eunchae adds, grinning as she slides off the bean bag to circle you.
The cropped halter top clings just right, the rich color complementing your skin tone and making you feelâŚhot. Paired with the baggy jeans that sit low on your hips, the whole look is casual, but not too casual. You glance at the mirror, adjusting the jeans slightly and eyeing the way they pool at the hems over your socked feet.
âAm I pulling this off?â you ask hesitantly, smoothing the fabric of the top.
Belle snorts. âIf heâs not staring, Iâll be personally offended on your behalf.â
Eunchae pretends to swoon dramatically, throwing herself back onto the bean bag. âThe mysterious unattainable enigma strikes again.â
âOkay, but shoes,â Hiyyih cuts in, crouching by the pile of options at your feet. âYouâre wearing sneakers, obviously, but which ones? The Nikes or the New Balances?â
You glance down, debating for a moment before pointing to the Nikes. âTheyâre cleaner.â
Belle raises an eyebrow. âBarely. When was the last time you cleaned your shoes?â
You glare at her, picking up a sneaker and threatening to launch it her way. She holds up her hands in mock surrender, moving to pull a jacket from the rack as she says, âMake sure you bring a jacket, though. Itâs cold as shit.â
âOr she can not bring one and Riki can lend her his.â Eunchae suggests with a cheeky grin.
Belle promptly tosses the jacket into the back of your closet.
You roll your eyes but canât help the small smile tugging at your lips. The nerves are still there, bubbling under the surface, but with your friends aroundâand an outfit that actually makes you feel cuteâyou start to think that maybe, just maybe, tonight wonât be a complete disaster.
riki đ: im here
âWeâre seeing you off,â Belle declares, handing you the Prada bag she just stuffed your lip combo into. Hiyyih trails behind her, spritzing your neck and wrists with your favorite perfume.
The dread must be plastered all over your face because Eunchae immediately starts snickering from where sheâs leaning against the doorframe. âWe just wanna see his reaction.â
âTo me or to you guys making kissy faces at him from the porch?â you deadpan.
The chorus of giggles that erupts from your three friends is all the answer you need.
âOh, come on,â Belle says, looping her arm through yours as she drags you toward the front door. âWeâll behave.â
âYou behaving is a scientific impossibility,â you mutter, trying to resist, but sheâs got the strength of someone fully committed to the bit.
âHold on,â Eunchae pulls something out of her hoodie pocket she mustâve forgotten was there until just now, uncapping the small bottle and holding it in front of your lips, âOpen.â
You obey with a slight furrow of your brows, and she sprays it into your mouth, giggling when you flinch slightly in surprise and grimace at the strong mint taste. Eunchae grins, unzipping the bag on your shoulder just enough to slip it in before closing it, âTo prevent food breath.â
The moment Belle opens the front door, your breath catches at the sight of Riki leaning casually against the passenger side of his Wrangler, hands tucked into his pockets. The golden light of the setting sun highlights the faint smirk on his face, his jewelry glinting as he shifts.
"Lord have mercy," you mutter under your breath.
You didn't expect him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but you weren't prepared for this either. The necklaces layering his collarbones and the glint of piercings--does he have an eyebrow piercing?âare almost too much. You quickly shove down the spiral threatening to start and glance back at the three traitorous girls behind you.
Their kissy faces drop immediately, though Eunchae barely suppresses her laughter.Â
With a playful shove to Hiyyihâwho stumbles into the porch pillar but resumes her antics without missing a beatâyou flip them all a perfectly manicured middle finger and step off the porch.
As you walk toward him, you swear the faintest blush tinges his ears. He waves briefly at your friends before straightening and meeting your gaze.
"You look good," he says, voice low and easy.
"I know." Your response is swift and confident, though the smile on your face is warmer than intended.
The moment is interrupted when the backseat window of his car rolls down, and Jake's grinning face is revealed. Your smile drops.
"Why is Jake in your car?" you deadpan, your smile dropping.
Riki groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Dude, I told you not to be weird."
Jake looks offended. "I didn't even say anything!"
"Seeing your face is enough," you reply flatly. Jake pouts dramatically while you shoot Riki an accusatory glare. "You could've warned me."
"If I did, you would've come out frowning," Riki whines playfully. "You have such a pretty smile."
From the backseat, Jake's obnoxious "ooooh" echoes, accompanied by giggles that make Riki's blush spread down his neck. Still, he keeps his composure enough to open the passenger door for you.
"What a gentleman~," Belle teases loudly from the porch.
Eunchae waves at you, practically bouncing with glee. You shoot Belle a glare, mouthing "kill yourself" as you accept Riki's hand and climb into his lifted car.
"Bye, Manchae," you call, snapping your attention away from him as he closes the door. You're too aware of his cologne and the lingering warmth of his hand. He looks way too good.
Riki salutes your friends playfully before circling to his door. Through Jake's open window, you hear Hiyyih shout, "She likes Dr Pepper!â
"And winning!" Eunchae adds.
"And tongue," Belle finishes just before the window rolls up.
You cringe. Riki's amused laugh is confirmation he definitely heard that. "I hate her so much," you mutter, pulling the sun visor down to touch up your lip gloss to dostract yourself.
You're halfway through the motion when you notice Riki hasn't started driving yet. Turning, you catch him just as heâs looking back at the road, his hand on the gear shift. (Thereâs something attractive about the fact he drives stick.)
Jake's giggle breaks the silence. "Oh, shut up, Jake," you snap, not necessarily to defend Rikiâthough it only makes Jake laugh harder. âWhy couldn't your other friends bring him?" you grumble, swiping the gloss over your bottom lip.
"He's my neighbor," Jake says cheekily.
"I would've made him walk," you reply, clicking the gloss shut and shoving it back into your bag. "Or Uber."
"That's just cruel," Jake protests, but you shrug.
"Sucks."
Riki snickers and nods. "Okay, he'll Uber next time."
Jake looks appalled. "Bro."
"You're annoying me too," Riki replies, barely glancing back as he rests his hand lazily on the gear shift.
You pointedly ignore the way his rolled-up sleeves expose a line of muscle up his forearm, a vein standing out as he moves to grab his phone charger. "Play your music," he says, holding the cord out to you.
Jake gapes. "Bro, you never let us play our music."
"That's because you guys have shit taste," Riki says without hesitation.
Your lips twitch, a sliver of pride blooming in your chest.
You connect your phone, Sabrina Carpenter's Taste filtering through the speakers. Jake perks up. "Oh, I actually like this song."
"You better," you reply, humming along as the music plays.
Riki bobs his head lightly to the beat, his usual laid-back energy soothing you as the drive continues.
"Who else is bowling with us?" you ask, turning the music down slightly.
"Jay, his girlfriend, and Heeseung," Riki answers casually.
You hum in understanding and turn the volume back up, inhaling the soft musk of his cologne mingling with your perfume. The scent is annoyingly pleasant, calming in its own way.
By the time he pulls into the parking lot and finds a good spot, the sky has dimmed to a deep navy. Riki is out of his seat in a flash, jogging around to open your door before Jake even unbuckles himself. His hand lingers on yours as he helps you down, his fingers interlocking with yours naturally.
Jake trails behind you two as Riki leads you toward the neon-lit entrance, the muffled sounds of bowling balls and laughter drifting through the glass doors.Â
Jay, a pretty girl you are pretty sure was in your art class in freshman year, and Heeseung are standing near the entrance, and you wish you could hide behind Riki from their gazes that immediately find your intertwined hands.
You send a smile to the only other girl reflexively, and she sends the prettiest one back. She grins excitedly as the three of them meet your trio halfway once you enter the door that Riki holds open for you to enter first.Â
(You wonder if these are manners his sisters and mother taught him or a previous girlfriendâwait, no you donât.)
âI told you it was her!â She smacks Jayâs arm, and he winces with a soft laugh, clearly used to his girlfriendâs antics. Her approach is welcomed as she explains, âHe was saying Riki was lying.âÂ
âAbout?â You question curiously, an easy smile on your glossy lips.
She giggles as she answers, âYou being his girlfriend.â
âOkay, thatâs enough.â Riki says lowly, clearly embarrassed by the subject as you snicker at his misfortune.
âIâm Gaeul, by the way.â The girl states with a giggle as she pulls you from Riki with her elbow hooked with yours, and you barely glance back at your âboyfriendâ, whoâs being patted on the shoulder by Jay. âTheyâll handle paying for everything, letâs get some snacks.â
âOh, okay.â You say softly before smiling with her, delighted that she brought up food before you had to ask Riki about it. You arenât ashamed of eating, or shy about doing so in front of him, but having another girl who also seems to prioritize food was immensely comforting to the anxiety in your gut.Â
She grins as the two of you step into line at the concession counter, âIâm also glad I got you away from the boys for a second, theyâre soâŚâ
âBoyish?â You finish, and she laughs softly.
âYeah.â
âGirl to girl,â You start, moving up in line with her, âI donât think Iâm gonna be good at bowling.âÂ
She gasps joyfully, âI suck!â
You laugh at her clear excitement that sheâs finally not alone in that aspect, âBut that means the boys are better than us.â
She rolls her eyes at the mention of them, âRiki and Heeseung are the really good bowlers,â Thereâs one more person between you two and the counter now, âI love my boyfriend, but he and Jake suck compared to those two.â
âI donât want to lose to Jake.â You sigh, âIt just doesn't seem ethical.â
âRikiâll handle him.â She snickers softly, âYou should've seen him at practice when Jake and Hoon messed with you.â
Your interest is piqued, but the person in front of you finishes paying for their food and you are forced to put your questions aside as she begins ordering and you realize you donât even know what you want.Â
Youâre skimming over the menu above when your phone dings in your purse.
riki đ: what size shoe do u wear?
Quickly typing an answer, you glance between your phone and the menu, and Gaeul turns to you, waiting for you to add to the already sizable order with how much the four athletes can eat. âOh, I can pay for myselfââ
âRiki already venmoed me enough to spot you,â She interjects with a soft giggle, and you feel your cheeks burn.
âOh,â You let out before shaking your head and looking at the waiting cashier, âA large drink and a basket of cheese fries, please.â
Gaeul hands you the stack of cups sheâs handed, and you startle slightly when a hand and arm appear in your vision, plucking the cups from your hand. When you look over your shoulder you find a smirking Riki, âI got this. Go sit.âÂ
You huff softly, fighting your smile that threatens to grow even wider, âI can fill up my own drink.â
âI know, but I wanna do it.â He states with a nod like itâs the most natural thing in the world, and you canât do much more than glare weakly. He only chuckles softly as Gaeul finishes paying and realizes heâs with you, âGo. Dr Pepper, right?.â
You look away from his cheeky smirk with a shift of your jaw, and you lose the fight against the grin now on your face, âI hate you.â
He only huffs softly in amusement as you walk away with your arms crossed, making your way to where you spot Heeseungâs orange hair. Thereâs a pair of green bowling shoes beside another bigger pair that are red placed on the bench seating, and Jake has a grin on his face the moment you sit down to put them on.
âI am not above hitting you in the head with a bowling ball, Jake.â You say as you pull the white sneakers off your feet to put on the bowling shoes, not even soaring the Australian boy a glance as his mouth shuts, clearly rethinking speaking.
Heeseung snorts, âShit, you are violent.â
You look up from your bowling shoes at the Lacrosse captain, whoâs grin drops and he quickly looks away, acting like he wasnât just laughing. Jay shakes his head with a laugh, âThank you, for shutting them up.â
You give him a smile with a scrunch of your nose, âMy pleasure.â
The moment Riki and Gaeul return, youâve barely gotten your shoes tied. Youâre still shooting looks at Jake, whoâs pretending to look anywhere but at you while Jay wheezes softly into his hand. Riki raises a brow, setting a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. âWhat happened now?â
âShe threatened Jakeâs life with a bowling ball,â Heeseung informs him with amusement still clear on his face.
Riki pauses mid-sip of his drink, glancing at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. âAlready? We havenât even started the game yet.â
You shrug innocently, tugging the laces on your bowling shoes tighter. âHe looked like he deserved it.â
âI didnât even say anything!â Jake argues with a whine, and you roll your eyes.
âYou had that stupid look on your face.â
âNot defending him, but thatâs just what Jake looks like.â Jay interjects with a finger raised to make a point, and Gaeul smacks his hand lightly with a disapproving shake of her head despite her snickering.
Riki sits beside you, handing you a large cup full of what you assume is Dr Pepper that you immediately taste to prove your theory, humming happily and smiling as you thank him. His smile mirrors yours as he begins to put on his own bowling shoes, and you grab your purse, which you had initially placed to your left, from between the two of you to place it elsewhere.
âHere,â He says softly, grabbing your purse from you to put on his other side with his jacket, which he had shed at some point between entering the building and sitting down, and you mutter a soft âoh, thank youâ that has his soft smirk widening just a bit before he focuses back on tying his shoes.
Youâre somewhat thankful that they seemed to have agreed on teams instead of each of you having your own scoreboard, though seeing every âxâ between your â5â points was embarrassing enough.Â
Gaeul seems wholly entertained by the gutter ball she just achieved as you cheer for her from your seat between Riki and Heeseung, too distracted by the fun of the game to see the goosebumps on your arms. Youâre leaning forward to pluck a fry from the basket of them on the table when you feel a warm something draped over your shoulders.Â
Riki is standing for his turn before you can even react, but across the table Gaeul turns to hide her face in Jayâs shoulder to poorly muffle the high pitched squeal she lets out. You ignore the heat rising up your neck, catching the fry between your teeth to slip your arms into the jacket sleeves.
Jay and Gaeul seem to be the only team playing purely for fun, because Jake and Heeseung are neck and neck with you and Riki on the scoreboard and your âboyfriendâ looks less than pleased about it.Â
Itâs near the last round when Jake scores a miraculous nine points that you mentally prepare to accept defeat, looking up at Riki who had just gotten back with your refilled cup, âHorrible news.â
He raises his brows, looking at the scoreboard and cursing under his breath. Itâs your final turn, and while you hadnât completely embarrassed yourself with your subpar bowling skills you probably werenât good enough or lucky enough to score anything higher than six points. At the moment, HeeJake is in first place.
Gaeul is cheering you on with her back against Jayâs chest, and Riki leans down, resting a hand on the edge of the table beside you, his face just close enough to make your heart race. âNo pressure,â he says softly, smirking. âBut if you lose, weâre never hearing the end of it.â
You roll your eyes, trying to act unimpressed. âGreat pep talk. Truly inspiring.â
He snickers softly, straightening back up as you stand with dread clear on your pretty face. Heeseung pipes up, âGive her a good luck kiss, Romeo.â The glare you shoot the Lacrosse captain only makes him snicker with his hands held up in mock-surrender, âWas just a suggestion.â
The feigned smile you give him has your fake boyfriend plucking your drink from your hands (how did he knew you had an urge to throw it at Heeseungâs face, youâll never know), and his hands move to your shoulders to walk with you to edge of the lane to grab a pink 7lb bowling ball.
Rikiâs grip on your shoulders lingers, and he leans down slightly to murmur near your ear, âJustâaim in the middle.â
You glance at him over your shoulder with a withering look, choosing to ignore his proximity, âLike that isnât what Iâve been doing.â
âCould've fooled meâow! Okay, okay,â Heâs still laughing despite rubbing his chest where your punch landed, much too cheeky for your liking but his smile is tooâŚsomething for you to want to wipe it off his face, âYouâre better than Jake.â
You shoot him a skeptical look, but itâs hard to ignore the encouragement in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you grip the heavy pink ball tightly, positioning it at your waist. Riki steps back, hands on his hips, his smirk still in place.
âAlright, show us what youâve got, baby.â
âOh, shut up.â You grumble softly, shooing him away to get his heart-fluttering grin out of your face, and as you pull his oversized sleeves up your arm to keep it from getting in the way you give yourself a mental pep talk.
Donât lose, bitch.
It doesnât help that your nails make putting your fingers in the three designated holes a struggle, and the moment the ball is released into the lane, veering left toward the gutter before God herself takes control and it curves back toward the center and slams into the center pin, you cover your face.
Strike!
Gaeul practically shrieks in excitement as the pins scatter, âYes, girl!â
You blink, lashes fluttering as you process the cheering as well as groans from Jake, and you gasp, âHoly shit!â
Rikiâs joyous laughter is infectious and warm, and you let out a soft shriek that fades into giggles as his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you off your feet in a hug, âHell yeah, baby!âÂ
The moment your feet are back on the ground, Gaeul is before you with her hands up for high fives, practically bouncing in excitement for you. Itâs practically second nature to you as you match her energy, too high on your miraculous win to notice Rikiâs hands lingering on your waist.
Another thing you fail to notice in your moment of joy is a familiar couple just a few lanes over, one party too distracted by the ruckus to pay any attention to the game her boyfriend and his friends dragged her to join.
She watches you smile and laugh as Riki helps you out of your bowling shoes, and her eyes follow you as you walk toward the restrooms with the light blue Prada bag she had always wished you would give her. It isnât fair.
You sigh softly as you place your bag on the sink in front of you, unzipping it to grab your lip combo to touch up in the mirror before going back out. As you uncap your lipliner with a muffled click, you hear the bathroom door open but donât think much of it at the moment.
It isnât until you look into the mirror, leaning forward slightly to see your lips better, that you see who it is.
âCan I help you?â You ask her reflection with a tilt of your head, tone less confrontational than it should be, but youâre trying to keep your good mood and Nayeonâs face is threatening to ruin it.
She scoffs softly, yet keeps a safe distance, âDo you even like him?â
You look away from the mirror to really look at her, ignoring the satisfaction that her slight flinch brings you, âExcuse me?â
âYou moved on fast.â Nayeon states, and you scoff with a smile of both fury and amusement at her audacity, âIs it even real, or did you use daddyâs money to get him to date you?â
The tilt of your head should have been a sign for her to shut her mouth, but she continues when you donât respond like usual, âBut I guess moving from one guy to another is just like you.â
Sheâs just trying to rile you up, itâs obvious.Â
You shake your head with a soft and bitter laugh, looking back at the mirror to continue what you had intended to do, the lip pencil gliding over the edges of your lips and the pad of your ring finger blending the harsh edges.Â
Her jaw shifts in the reflection as you cap your lip-liner and exchange it for your lip gloss, and you send her a condescending smile, âYou done?â
âYou bitchââ Her words are cut off by another person entering the bathroom, and as you swipe the gloss over your lips, you pause when you see itâs Gaeul.
She glances at Nayeon, but her main focus is on you as she says, âReady to go?â
You hide your confusion at her question with a pretty smile, closing your gloss and stuffing it back into your bag before you walk to her, shoulder checking the audacious bitch on your way out, âYep.âÂ
Gaeulâs arm hooks at your elbow as you both exit the bathroom, and you sigh in relief at being out of that situation before you remember your prior confusion and she explains without you needing to ask, âYour ex is at our table antagonizing Riki, I figured if heâs here she would be too.âÂ
Your brows furrow and you quickly pick up the pace of your stride with fury souring your mood once again. When you turn the corner, your gaze zeroes in on Riki, whoâs leaning back in his seat seemingly unbothered by whatever it is that Eunseok is saying to him, and Nayeon hastens past you to join her boyfriendâs side.
Eunseokâs eyes land on you the moment his girlfriend puts herself on his arm, and they follow you as you approach Riki without even a glance his way until he speaks, âYou move on fast.â He snorts, soft and bitter, âDidnât expect you to open your legs so fast considering how long it took you to put out.â
You ignore him, though the anger in your gut is boiling hot as your gaze moves to Riki, who you find is already standing now, his jaw shifting yet no other sign in his body language that heâs as pissed as his narrowed eyes say he is. Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all watch, though from their body language you can tell theyâre not exactly about to stand by if your âboyfriendâ decides to throw a well-deserved punch.
His gaze moves to yours the moment your hand finds his, softening as your fingers intertwine with his and you mutter, âLetâs go.â
He nods wordlessly, his willingness only pissing Eunseok off more as he laughs mockingly, and you feel Rikiâs hand tighten around yours, âAlready got him trained, huh? He like how mean you are?âÂ
âI do, yeah.â Riki responds for you with a smug smirk, âSheâs got a hell of a bite.â
The second meaning to his words isnât lost on you, and you find the way Eunseok bristles at the comment amusing enough to not get mad at Riki for it later considering the two of you obviously hadn't done more than hold hands. (You hear Jake choke on his drink, too.)
âBro, itâs your turn!â Calls a familiar male across the bowling alley, Sohee.Â
You take the moment of brief distraction to shoot a pointed look at Jake, who gets up from his seat to play peacemaker with Heeseung.
Jay seems to motion for Riki to leave while theyâre distracted by the two, and you shoot Gaeul an apologetic glance that she receives with a shake of her head and a look that reads âdonât be sorryâ as Riki leads you out of the building.
The moment the frigid air hits you, you tug the sleeves of his jacket down your arms again and shiver slightly. âHeâs such a dick.â You sigh softly, âIâm sorry.â
Riki shakes his head as the two of you stop just a few paces outside the entrance, âDonât apologize.â His hands move to rub at your arms to help you warm up, and the sight of both of your breaths visible in the cold has you moving to take his jacket off to give to him, but his hands cover yours the moment they start pulling at the open zipper. âIâm okay.â
âRiki, itâs cold as shit.â
âAll the more reason for you to keep the jacket.â He argues back with a soft smirk, âReally, I practice in the cold every day.âÂ
âYouâre active, then. Not standing around,â You fuss, and he tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement before a cheeky smirk grows on his face.
ââYou worried about me, pretty girl?â
âOh, stop it.â You groan with a poorly concealed warm laugh, and he catches your hands as you weakly swat at his chest, pulling you closer. âRiki.â
Your soft mutter of his name has his eyes shutting and his head falling back with a soft groan escaping his lips, âYouâre so mean, baby.â
âIt isnât fair to you.â He doesnât seem pleased by your statement, shaking his head and leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.
âJust a kiss.â He pleas softly, his nose brushing yours and you inhale sharply, âJust one.â
His words flip your stomach inside out, and as you sigh his name again he leans in.
âOh shit!â The sudden exclamation has you and Riki both startling away from each other, Jake grinning like a maniac at the doors with Heeseung, Jay, and Gaeul behind him. âFuck, did I just ruin a moment?â
You groan, turning away from them to begin walking to Rikiâs Jeep, arms crossed to protect yourself from the cold and your mind in utter shambles becauseâ
What the fuck?
Jake gets a ride from Heeseung home according to Riki, who had unlocked his car for you to get in while he said goodbye to the others. A part of you regrets not saying goodbye to Gaeul, but the thought of spending another second under their gaze at that moment felt suffocating.
The silence in the car is loud. Not awkward loud, but loud enough that every glance out the window and every shift in your seat feels amplified. Rikiâs hands stay firmly on the wheel, his fingers drumming against the edge of the leather cover as he fiddles with the turn signal.
âSo,â he starts, his voice casual but slightly strained, âyouâve got a mean bowling game for someone who swore theyâd lose.â
You glance at him, catching the way the passing streetlights make his jawline look sharper. âThatâs because I hustle. Low expectations are a great strategy.â
He huffs a small laugh, his lips twitching into a smirk. âGuess Iâll keep that in mind for next time.â
You lean back against the seat, trying to ignore the fact that your heart still hasnât settled since that moment at the alleyâthe one where his face was too close, his breath too warm, and you almost forgot this whole thing was fake.
âSo⌠next time?â you tease, arching a brow. âHow much more mortifying teasing can you handle?â
âDepends,â he says, keeping his eyes on the road. âHow long does it take to make your ex think he lost the best thing that ever happened to him?â
Your laugh comes out before you can stop it. âItâll probably never happen, I just like to see him squirm.â The weight of his words sits in the air between you, heavier than it should be. You turn to look out the window, feigning interest in the row of darkened houses you pass by.Â
âYou know,â he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, âI donât think theyâre worth this much effort. Your ex and⌠her.â
You blink, surprised at his shift in tone. âWell, thanks for that motivational speech, Riki. Really helps my self-esteem.â
He shakes his head, glancing at you briefly. âThatâs not what I meant. I just mean⌠if they couldnât see how good they had it with you, thatâs on them. You donât need to prove anything.â
The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. You open your mouth to reply, but the words donât come. Instead, you study him in the dim light, wonderingânot for the first timeâwhy he agreed to this in the first place.
âWhy are you doing this, Riki?â you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. âI told you, I need you to help me pass Chem.â
You narrow your eyes, not convinced but also not ready to push. âYou havenât even asked for help past me giving you my old notes.â
He smirks again, but it doesnât quite reach his eyes this time. âTheyâre just that helpful. Donât overthink it.â
And maybe you donât, because overthinking means dissecting the way heâs looking at you now in the faint glow of the dashboard, like he knows something you donât.
The car slows to a stop in front of your house and you fiddle with the hem of your halter top, trying to figure out how to say whatâs been sitting heavy in your chest since the bowling alley. âRiki,â you start, your voice softer than usual.
He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.
You take a steadying breath. âI donât think⌠Iâm ready for a real relationship.â
That gets his attention. His hands shift in his lap, his expression unreadable. âOkay,â he says after a beat, his tone cautious. âWhereâs this coming from?â
You shift in your seat, suddenly finding the dashboard very interesting. âItâs just⌠youâve been really good to me this past week, and I feel like itâs not fair to you. I mean, youâve made it pretty clear how you feel, and I donât want to lead you on orââ
âHey.â His voice is calm, steady, and it makes you pause. âYouâre not leading me on. I knew what I was getting into.â
âYeah, butâŚâ You trail off, frustration bubbling up because the words in your head wonât come out the way you want them to. âItâs not just about you. Itâs about me, too. I donât think Iâm ready to deal with⌠all of this. Not after everything with him. Itâs too much.â
He doesnât say anything right away, which somehow makes it worse. The silence stretches, and youâre about to apologizeâagainâwhen he finally speaks.
âSo, what do you want to do?â
âI think we should stop,â you say, hating how small your voice sounds. âThe fake dating, I mean.â
He nods, almost imperceptibly. âIf thatâs what you want.â
âItâs notââ You stop yourself, biting your lip as your eyes burn. âI just⌠I donât want to hurt you. You deserve someone whoâs all in, and I canât be that right now.â
His lips twitch into a faint, almost sad smile. âYouâre thinking too much about me again.â
You frown, confused. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He shrugs lightly, his eyes moving away from you briefly before they settle back on yours. âIt means youâre allowed to put yourself first, you know. Iâm a big boy; Iâll survive.â
âButââ
âNo buts.â He cuts you off gently, an easy smile still on his face. âIf this is what you need, weâll stop. No hard feelings.â
The simplicity of his response hits harder than you expected. Itâs so Rikiâquietly selfless, always willing to go along with what makes you happy.
You hate how much you suddenly want to reach across the console and kiss the life out of him. But you donât. Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile.
âThanks, Riki.â
His smile doesnât quite reach his eyes. âAnytime.â
You watch him exit his car, circle around the front, and open your door for you while holding a chivalrous hand out just like before. A part of your heart aches with the knowledge heâs still doing this despite not technically having to, and you smile softly as you accept his help. His hand doesnât linger in yours as it did before, though.
The walk to your front door is silent, and he halts just before the step onto your porch, his hands in his pockets, you pause before approaching your door, turning to him. With the few inches that the porch gives you, meeting his gaze is easier. âTonight was really fun, ignoring the end of it,â
He chuckles softly, âGlad you had fun, pretty girl.âÂ
If he didnât mean to let the name slip he doesnât show any signs of panic or regret, only meeting your nearly-level gaze with warmth.
Thereâs a moment before you turn your body only slightly towards the front door, âGoodnight.â
His hand catches your elbow gently as you begin to turn away from him, pulling you back yet giving you time to pull away if you so desire, and you donât.
His lips meet yours in a kiss thatâs softer than you imagined itâd be. His hand moves to your cheek yet pauses just before his skin touches yours, lips sweet and slow against yours.Â
Itâs over before you can kiss back like you want to, his lips parting from yours with a soft smack that makes your stomach flip.Â
âGoodnight.â He bids in a low mumble, barely an inch from your lips when the words leave his and he takes a step back with a soft smile that makes your heart twist painfully, âSee you Monday.â
You can only nod, forcing a slight smile and turning to punch in the door code with shaky hands and a heavy, aching heart.
part two.
Šheedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.