& the pieces are falling

writing for nct, &team, & enhypen feel free to send a request (any group & genre)

[enhaflixer]

CUMMING OF AGE

bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.) “If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.” “And if she won’t listen…” “I’ll make her.”

You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.

Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.

You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.

You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.

It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.

Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.

You’d never even come close.

You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.

You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.

You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.

You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.

But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.

You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.

Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.

It made you feel fucking insane.

So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.

You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.

You didn’t dare.

-

Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.

Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.

You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.

And then there was Heeseung.

Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.

When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.

You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.

By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.

You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.

Your focus was always Evie.

She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.

She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.

You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.

You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.

-

The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.

Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.

Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.

You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.

Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.

The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.

You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.

Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.

It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.

You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.

For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.

A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.

Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.

Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.

There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.

Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.

“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."

“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”

The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.

Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.

Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.

Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.

“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”

No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.

You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.

Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.

You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.

But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.

-

You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.

You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.

But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.

You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.

And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.

The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.

You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.

The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.

No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.

The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.

It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.

Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.

The wetness should’ve been a good sign.

But you already knew how this would go.

You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.

Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.

There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.

You tried harder.

Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.

That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.

But it never came.

Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.

Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.

You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.

Not even fucking close.

Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.

This wasn’t working.

You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.

The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.

You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.

The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.

You knocked.

Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.

Nothing.

The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.

Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.

Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.

He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.

His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.

He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.

“You good?”

The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.

Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.

“…What?”

“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”

He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.

“No. I don’t.”

You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.

“Fuck.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”

“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”

That made him pause.

He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”

Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.

“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”

He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.

“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”

Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.

You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”

Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.

But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.

And he still hadn’t said a word.

Your next breath shook as it left you.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”

That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.

He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”

You froze.

His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

He stepped back.

Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.

He held your gaze.

 “Come in. Close the door behind you.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.

You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.

Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.

Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.

“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”

You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.

His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.

You fidget.

Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”

Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.

He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”

The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.

You blink. “Like… where I touch?”

“Yeah.”

You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”

“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”

Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”

You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.

He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.

“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”

You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.

He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.

“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”

“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.

Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”

Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”

Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.

You don’t move right away.

He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”

Your breath hitches.

Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.

You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.

But still—nothing clicks.

Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”

“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.

“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”

The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.

“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”

Your hand stills.

He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”

You hesitate, then obey.

The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.

“Feel that?”

You nod. Barely.

“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”

You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.

Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.

He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.

He lets the moment hang.

Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”

“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.

His gaze is heavy. Steady.

“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”

The room feels hotter now.

Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.

You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.

He hasn’t blinked once.

Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.

The only thing that’s changed is his posture.

His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.

You’re doing this to him.

But not enough.

Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.

You’re trying. God, you’re trying.

Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.

It’s good. So good.

But it’s not enough.

You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”

“I’m not,” you whisper.

“You are. I can see it.”

You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”

You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.

“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”

Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.

“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”

You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”

That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.

“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”

“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”

He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”

You nod.

“No,” he says. “Say it.”

Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”

Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”

Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.

“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”

Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”

You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”

You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.

“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”

You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.

“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”

You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.

Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.

You’re right there.

You’re going to break.

He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.

You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.

It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.

Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.

The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.

Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.

You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.

His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.

He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.

He’s so hard.

His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.

“Look at that messy little cunt.”

Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.

Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.

“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”

“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”

“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”

Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.

Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.

“You wanna cum, baby?”

You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.

“Use your words.”

Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”

“Need what?” he pushes.

“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”

“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”

You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.

And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.

“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”

You snap.

Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.

It doesn’t hit you right away.

At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.

It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.

You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.

Heeseung is still there.

You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.

And then it fades.

That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.

What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.

Reality slams back into you hard.

You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.

Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.

You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”

Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.

Heeseung hasn’t moved.

Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.

You can’t meet his eyes.

He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.

“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”

“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.

Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.

“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”

“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.

“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”

You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.

He doesn’t even seem fazed.

That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.

You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”

You shoot him a look.

Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”

You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.

You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.

Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”

You blink.

“…There’s a second lesson?”

He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”

Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.

-

Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.

Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.

You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.

 It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping. 

Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you. 

That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.

You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.

 You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it. 

Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”

You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean. 

Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.

You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.

No. I’ll call you.

Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.

You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.

His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.

Low. Thick. Wrecked.

“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”

The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.

“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”

Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”

“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”

Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”

“And?”

Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.

“…Didn’t work.”

“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”

You nearly choke.

“Take the blanket off.”

You do.

“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”

You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.

“Fuck. You’re already wet.”

You don’t answer.

“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”

You whimper. “I’m wet.”

“Where?”

Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”

“Let me hear it.”

You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.

Squish. Slick. Wet.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”

“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”

“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”

You nod like he can see you.

“You touching your clit yet?”

“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”

You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”

You do.

And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.

“You sound like you’re crying.”

“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”

“Then shut her up.”

Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.

“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”

Your thighs start to shake.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”

“She wants to cum. So let her.”

You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.

“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”

You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.

-

You don’t get a break.

Heeseung doesn’t let you.

After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.

Morning. She hungry?

Your pussy clenches on reflex.

You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.

Yes.

His reply is instant.

Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.

That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.

You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.

You send the photo.

Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.

He doesn’t reply until hours later.

Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.

That’s how it starts.

Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.

Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.

When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.

He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.

“Are you wearing panties right now?”

“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”

“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”

You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.

Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.

On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.

You cum like a trained animal.

By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.

He doesn’t let you get comfortable.

I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?

-

You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.

There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.

Heeseung.

Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.

You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.

Don’t open this here. I’m serious.

You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.

It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.

And it destroys you.

I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her. I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching. I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her. No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.

You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.

You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.

You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.

You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.

You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.

You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.

You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.

You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.

When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.

You snap a photo.

Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.

You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.

That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.

-

You don’t even knock.

You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:

You better show up dripping.

And you are.

The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.

He opens it like he already knew you were there.

Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.

He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.

Just opens the door wider and lets you in.

You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.

He closes the door behind you. And waits.

You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”

He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”

You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”

Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.

“You leaking?”

Your breath catches. “Yes.”

“Prove it.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.

Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.

He doesn’t touch you.

“Show me,” he says, voice low.

Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.

You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.

You keep your eyes on him the whole time.

And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.

Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.

Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.

“She tastes trained.”

You nod.

“She beg yet?”

You exhale. “She never shut up.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”

Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.

“You want her filled?”

You nod again. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”

“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”

“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”

You scramble onto the bed.

Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.

You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.

But he doesn’t touch you first.

He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.

And sniffs.

Deep.

He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”

Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.

“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”

“Heeseung—” You whimper.

“Shut up.”

He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.

You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.

He just stares.

“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”

“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.

“I can see that.”

His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.

He doesn’t lick you.

Not yet.

He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.

“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”

You sob.

And then he spits.

Right on your pussy.

Hot. Heavy. Messy.

It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.

Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.

“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”

And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.

Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.

But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.

He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.

“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”

You cry out, thighs clenching.

But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.

“Open.”

You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.

He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.

“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”

You do.

Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.

“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”

You try to cum. You try.

But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.

“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”

You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.

Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.

“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”

He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.

Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.

He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.

“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”

You do. Of course you do.

Because you’d do anything he says.

And he knows it.

He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.

You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.

“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”

“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”

He doesn’t give you time to finish.

He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.

The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”

You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.

She’s full.

Finally fucking full.

Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”

“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.

You scream.

“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”

You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.

He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.

Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.

So you lift your head—try to kiss him.

You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.

He pulls back.

His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.

“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

Your breath shatters.

“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”

Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.

“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”

Tears spill over your cheeks.

And you cum. Just like that.

From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.

Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”

You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.

“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”

He leans down, mouth right by your ear.

“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”

You’re already limp when he flips you.

Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.

You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.

“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.

You nod into the pillow.

“Say it.”

“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”

You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.

He doesn’t give you the rest.

You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.

“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”

He presses forward.

His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.

He starts fucking you again like he owns you.

The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.

“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”

“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”

“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”

“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”

He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.

“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”

You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.

It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.

You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.

He fucks you through it—harder.

“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”

And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.

He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.

You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.

He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.

Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.

You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.

“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”

You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.

“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”

-

You wake up to the burn in your thighs.

The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.

Still there. Still inside you.

You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.

A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.

His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.

But something else creeps in too.

You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.

“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”

It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.

His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.

You almost regret asking.

Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”

You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.

No hesitation. He kisses you hard.

Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.

His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.

You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.

Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.

His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.

And then you hear it.

“Heeseung?”

It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.

“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”

Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.

Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.

“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.

Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.

“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”

You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.

Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.

You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”

Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.

“Bathroom. Now.”

You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.

His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.

“Yo.”

“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”

Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.

“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”

“She didn’t text me.”

“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”

You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.

“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”

“Will do.”

Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.

“You owe me.”

You punch his chest.

He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."

-

It’s early.

Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.

You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.

You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.

Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.

“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.

You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.

“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”

You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.

“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”

You do. Barely.

You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.

Downstairs?

Evie sings along to the chorus.

-

It’s disgusting.

There’s no other word for it.

You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.

You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.

“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”

Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”

“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”

And then—

“Y/N?”

You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.

You freeze.

Every muscle in your body locks.

Heeseung doesn’t move.

You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.

And then you both look up.

In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

Evie.

Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.

She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.

And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.

Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.

“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”

She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.

“No—no—no—no, no, no—”

She’s panicking.

Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.

“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”

“DON’T.”

The scream hits like a slap.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”

You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.

Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.

“Heejoo—”

“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”

She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.

And then her expression cracks completely.

Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.

“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”

“You’re both fucking insane.”

You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.

“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”

She flinches.

Flinches.

Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.

She looks empty.

“Don’t come near me.”

Her voice is flat now. Robotic.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”

You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.

Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.

“You’re both dead to me.”

-

​​You don’t remember the walk home.

You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.

Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.

Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.

She meant it. Every word.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”

She meant it.

You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.

They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.

He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.

The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.

It never comes.

But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.

Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.

Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.

You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.

Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.

You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.

-

It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.

You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.

You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.

It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.

Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.

You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.

Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.

Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.

Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.

Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.

“I had to see you.”

The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“You already saw enough.”

He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.

“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”

“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”

“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”

You speak,

“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”

The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.

“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”

For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.

“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”

You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.

“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”

He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”

For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.

“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”

A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.

-

It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row. 

Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips. 

Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.

 The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.

She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel. 

Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.

“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.

You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“Evie—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”

Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.

She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”

Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”

Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”

Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”

She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”

You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”

She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily. 

“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”

Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest. 

“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.

-

It doesn’t happen overnight.

 There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest. 

But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.

It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter. 

Just three words: We need to talk.

You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest. 

Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay. 

That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house. 

And then she clarifies: Just you.

You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both. 

Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”

You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.

She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”

Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”

She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”

She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”

Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill. 

“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”

Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.” 

Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.” 

She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”

You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.

She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."

“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”

A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow. 

-

Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.

Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.

Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.

“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”

You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.

“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”

It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.

Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.

“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”

Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.

“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.

You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.

“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”

Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.

Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.

“You… love me?”

You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”

He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.

“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”

You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.

“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”

“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”

Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”

A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.

Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.

“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”

Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.

“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”

 Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”

A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.

You open your mouth.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”

Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”

Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.

Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.

“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”

You nod quickly.

“Of course.”

Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.

“Anything you need.”

She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.

“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”

You don’t stop her.

Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.

He exhales shakily.

“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”

You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”

His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.

-

Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door. 

It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.

So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show. 

It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too. 

No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.

Heeseung seems as restless as you. 

Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate. 

You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver. 

Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.

So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town. 

You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended. 

The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking. 

You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve. 

But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.

And that progress is slow, but present. 

She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together. 

She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.

 Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal. 

You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.

But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:

Girls’ night?

She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch. 

You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.

Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history. 

She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said. 

There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.

For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile. 

She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.

Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails. 

It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief. 

For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.

At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.

“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”

You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”

She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”

A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”

She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”

Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”

That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.

You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences. 

But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.

When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened. 

But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.

“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.

“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”

She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.

 As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.

-

The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his. 

And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.

When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.

You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.

He clears his throat.

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”

You turn to look at him. “No.”

There’s a beat.

“Can I?”

You nod.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.

You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.

“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”

Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.

You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.

“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”

He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.

“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.

You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.

“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”

He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”

You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.

“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”

And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.

But he’s not done.

He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.

“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”

He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.

“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”

You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”

He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.

No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.

“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”

You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.

Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.

He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”

You don’t stop him. You beg for more.

He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.

“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”

You scream. You scream for him.

You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.

He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.

“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”

You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.

He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.

You can’t move.

You don’t want to.

You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.

Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.

“I’m never being patient again.”

-

TL: @naurwayyyyy @ziiao @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @beariegyu @zzhengyu @annybah @seonhoon @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3

[nteamxdoor]

i'm only jealous 'cause you're mine - nakakita yuma

pairing: bf!yuma x afab!reader genre: established relationship, jealousy, smut(mdni), angst (?) warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, swearing, arguing, slight angst, cheating accusations, slightly toxic relationship (?), slight physical aggression (specifically pushing and a slap), angry sex, possessive sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl!), exhibitionism(?), yuma is a huge tease, dom!yuma, oral (f recieving), photos during sex, breeding kink (?), creampie, overstimulation - let me know if i missed any! disclaimers: purely fictional!! all parties are consenting!! not proof read!! synopsis: yumas jealousy gets the best of him after you and nicholas were too close for his liking word count: 4k

You were spending a few nights with the members out of the city during their well-deserved break, the company paying for a holiday house hidden away from the public eye.

The house was huge, allowing every member to have their own room, multiple bathrooms on each floor, a huge shared living space and kitchen, as well as an outdoor entertainment area with a pool, barbecue, and a huge grassed area.

At first, you questioned whether you should be in attendance, claiming that you didn't want to impose on the boys' rest time, but Yuma assured you they wanted you there, even calling them in the group chat to get the boys to tell you themselves. They enthusiastically persuaded you to come on the holiday, claiming they needed someone to rein Yuma in when he got too rowdy, and that you were part of the family anyway.

So here you were, day 2 of the holiday, sunbaking in your bikini while most of the boys spent their time in the pool. You watched in amusement as they tackled each other both in the pool and into the pool, eyes locking with a wet Yuma leaning against the pool's edge. His wet hair was pushed back, held in place by his sunglasses, water dripping down his face and onto his toned chest. He sent a wink your way before turning his attention to a not-so-sneaky Harua trying to jump on him in the pool. A laugh escaped your lips, which didn't go unnoticed by an emerging Nicholas, pulling himself out of the pool.

"Are you laughing at Harua trying to sneak up on the members?" He laughed, taking a seat on the pool chair next to yours, putting his arm behind his head to look at you while you conversed.

"Oh, absolutely, he's really trying to take them by surprise, but failing miserably," you giggled, still watching the scene in front of you.

Nicholas laughed with you, making it sound like the funniest thing in the world as he ran his free hand through his wet hair.

The enthusiastic sound of Nicholas' laugh caught Yuma's attention, his eyes wandering to where you and Nicholas were spread out on your pool chairs. His jaw tightened slightly at the sight of your shared laughs, but Yuma brushed it off, knowing he had the tendency to get jealous over small things.

However, as time went by, his eyes never left you two for long. He watched as you both continued to laugh and talk together; Nicholas leaning over to whisper something in your ear that must have been incredibly funny, given your reaction. Your hand found his bicep as you hunched over in laughter, tightening your grip to hold it for support. Yuma watched his friend's eyes quietly linger over your body as you leaned slightly closer to him, a slight blush evident on the tips of his ears at the close proximity you now had. Yuma's jaw clenched even tighter, grinding his teeth slightly at the gnawing feeling in his chest.

You and Nicholas were oblivious to the storm you were creating in Yuma's chest, continuing your conversation as the other members started climbing out of the pool. Yuma didn't bother with pleasantries as he approached, planting himself on your pool chair, right in the middle of your conversation with Nicholas, wetting you both in the process.

"Yuma! You got me wet!" You pouted, not really caring, but also not liking the chill that followed after the wind now.

"Sorry baby," he purred, glancing at you over his shoulder, a slight smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes at him with a smile on your face, before climbing off the pool chair to stand in front of both Yuma and Nicholas.

"Alright boys, let's go inside with everyone else," you spoke, clasping your hands together. Yuma's eyes weren't on you, but on his friend across from him, who was staring up at you like you held the moon in your hands (or so it seemed to Yuma).

As you made your way inside, everyone else was already claiming their spot in the living area, "Yuma, get us a spot please? I'm just going to head upstairs and get changed," You sent him a smile as you spoke, watching him nod in response. Without a second thought, you made your way upstairs to your shared room with Yuma.

In the room, you opened your suitcase to find some comfortable clothes to lounge around in with the boys. As you were searching for something to wear, you heard the bedroom door click closed and felt two arms snake around your waist before you could react, causing you to freeze out of shock.

"Yuma," you breathed out, "You scared me baby." You relaxed in his hold as he squeezed you tighter. "What are you doing up here?"

His hands fell to your hips, spinning you around to face him; his hair was dry now, but he was still shirtless in only his bathing shorts, sunglasses nowhere to be found. He stared into your eyes for half a second before his gaze fell to your lips, staying there for a beat longer than usual before a sigh escaped his lips.

"Yuma?" You questioned again, pressing your forehead to his to draw a response from him. His grip on your hips tightened, his gaze back on yours as his eyes darkened, moving his forehead away from yours to look down at you.

"What was all that with Nicholas?" He asked, venom seeping into his words. You tilted your head in confusion, holding his stare as you tried to process what he was asking you.

"What?" Is all you managed to get out, utterly confused at the boy's question. He rolled his eyes at you, hands dropping from your hips as one rested on his own, the other running through his hair.

"Don't play dumb, Y/N," he practically growled, holding your gaze more intensely, "You and Nicholas were having a great time on your own."

"You mean, we had a great time... talking?" You questioned, not sure what had made him so frustrated, or mad, or upset - honestly,y you weren't sure what he was feeling at this point.

"Talking? Is that what we're calling it now?" He laughed, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief. Now you were getting frustrated at your boyfriend, confused as to why he was mad that you got along with his members.

"Are you fucking kidding me Yuma?," you spat, losing your patience all too quickly at his ridiculous attitude, "You're mad that I actually get along with your members? Is that what this is?"

"I'm not mad you get along with my members," he laughed mockingly, "I'm mad you decided to flirt with one of them right in front of me," he stepped closer to you, towering over you as he continued with an accusatory tone, "If you wanted to cheat on me you could have atleast done it out of my fucking view."

You shoved his chest to get him away from you, his brow ticking at the force, "Fuck you Yuma," you spat, trying to push past him and leave the room. Yuma grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to stand in front of him, his grip not wavering, while your free hand tried to pull his away.

"What? You're just gonna leave?" He spat, voice getting louder as his anger became more intense, "Not going to try and prove me wrong?" he continued, his intense glare feeling heavy on your own. When you didn't answer him, he let out a single laugh, "Oh, I know! You're going to go to Nicholas, aren't you?"

That's when your hand met his cheek, a loud echo bouncing off the walls, and a slight red mark appearing where your hand just was. You both stood frozen for a moment, unfamiliar with this current situation; you and Yuma had never argued like this before.

Before you could react, apologise, check if he was okay, his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. Hands flying to the sides of your face to hold you still. Your mouth opened in shock, a gasp escaping as his tongue slipped its way inside, pulling another sound from your throat. You stood in shock, before melting under the heat of his lips, the way his tongue instantly dominated your mouth, the way his grip on your face was strong but not painful. Your hands flew around his neck, pulling him closer to you as he walked you backwards.

The back of your knees hit the bed first, one of Yuma's hands moving to cradle your head as your back hit the mattress. His lips never left yours, stealing your breath as he continued his assault on your mouth.

His lips found their way down your neck, nibbling and sucking until he pulled a moan from your lips. His hands were everywhere, grabbing and squeezing every inch of you like he was scared he would forget how you felt.

As his lips made their way closer to your chest, he pulled your bikini strap through his teeth, letting it flick onto your skin, earning a hiss from you. His eyes met yours, dark and blown out, consumed with hunger and lust.

Yuma smirked at your already disheveled state, "Do you think Nicholas could make you feel like this?" he purred, his finger tracing the marks he left on your neck, "Do you think he could..." his voice trailed as his fingers travelled lower before lightly wiping over your already soaked bikini bottoms, "...make you this wet, this quickly?"

You moaned, hips bucking up into his hand to try and chase some sort of pressure, but Yuma removed his fingers quickly, holding his gaze and smirk. "Come on princess, answer me."

"N-no," you stuterred, hands still looped around his neck, finding their way into his hair, "D-don't care about him, only you." You gently pulled on his strands, a groan leaving his mouth. His lips crashed back into yours, while one hand yanked your bikini top off in one movement.

You gasped in shock again, Yuma using the opportunity to slide his tongue back inside as his hand found its way to one of your nipples. You moaned as he began teasing it, such a different comparison to the heated kiss; His finger moved slowly, feather-light touches brushing over your sensitive nipple, while his mouth consumed you in a feverish hunger.

His mouth moved south again, but he didn't waste time in capturing your other nipple between his teeth, a light squeeze dragging a groan from your chest. You arched into his touch, chasing his warmth and pressure.

Yuma's mouth and hands were in sync; as his mouth sucked one nipple, his fingers pulled on the other, as his tongue flicked, so did his fingers. Your hands pulled tighter at his hair, wanting more from the hungry man on top of you.

"Something you want baby?" He chuckled, face hovering above yours once again. You could only nod, lost in the intensity of Yuma's gaze. "Words. Good girls use their words." He whispered next to your ear, mouth ghosting over one of his earlier marks.

You shuddered at the feeling of his breath so close to you, "Want more," you breathed out.

Yuma let out a breathy chuckle, hands now trailing over your body with a light touch, almost ticklish. "Baby, come on now..." he started, eyes roaming yours as a hand came to your jaw, a strong grip forcing you to maintain eye contact, "...you need to use your words better. I still don't know what you want."

You shuddered again, lost under the control Yuma had over you during these moments, "I-I want you to touch me Yuma, please." You almost cried out, eyes opening in shock when you realised how loud you were getting.

Yuma just smirked at you, "Uh-huh... but where?" he feigned confusion and innocence, "I don't know where you want me to touch you." A fake pout fell on his lips as you squirmed beneath him.

"M-my pussy..." you whispered, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm? What was that? I can't hear you?"

"My pussy Yuma, please!" You practically yelled, overcome by the need to be touched by your teasing boyfriend.

"That's right baby, be loud," he chuckled, a hand slowly moving its way down your side, "Let them hear you, let Nicholas hear you."

Yuma made his way to your pulsing core, hands slowly caressing your sides. He kissed lower and lower, from your chest, to your stomach, until he reached the band of your bikini bottoms, but instead of giving you what you wanted, his lips moved to your inner thighs.

Feather-light kisses covered your thighs, strong hands holding your hips to stop your squirming, "It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want," he breathed, whispering into your thigh, "When I'm ready."

You groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more than to feel some release from your pent-up desires. "Please, Yuma, please, please, pleas- ah!" Without warning, you felt a slap against your core, a surprised moan escaping you.

"Stop being impatient," Yuma growled, before he gripped your bikini bottoms with his teeth. He slowly pulled them down, looking into your eyes until they were off your legs. Pulling them out of his mouth, he turned them inside out, before showing you your own wetness, "Look at that baby, look at how wet I make you."

A deep blush spread across your face at the sight of your own slick covering your bikini, Yuma smirking once again at your embarrassment. He hummed in satisfaction before bringing the panties to his mouth, his tongue pocking out in a small kitten lick. His eyes rolled back at the slight taste of your arousal, "Fuck baby, can't wait to taste you properly."

Yuma dived between your legs, disregarding your bikini on the floor. His breath fanned over your dripping folds, sending shivers up your spine. His arms wrapped around the top of your legs, holding you in place, before you felt the brush of his nose against your core. A small moan escaped you, anticipating the relief you've been waiting for.

Yuma didn't waste any more time, no more teasing, as his tongue went flat against your core, dragging from top to bottom. A guttural moan erupted from your chest, hands flying back to his hair. Yuma growled at the feeling of you pulling on his strands, encouraging him to keep up his wild assault on your core.

You tried to grind against his face, chasing more pressure, but he held a strong grip on you, keeping your hips pinned to the mattress. Yuma sucked on your clit, not letting up no matter how hard you pulled at his hair - he knew you liked the intense pleasure, the overstimulation, because you were his.

You were so lost in the feeling of his mouth ravaging your pussy, you didn't notice that one of his hands left your hip until a finger pushed straight through your entrance. You almost screamed from the pleasure, the sudden intrusion feeling heavenly and painful all at the same time. Yuma moaned against you, loving the reactions you gave him.

"Fuck, Yuma," You moaned, slightly grinding into his face now that his grip has loosened.

"That's right, baby, say my name," he breathed out, poking his head out slightly to look at you, the bottom of his face covered in your slick. You groaned at the sight, your juices dripping from his lips and chin, his flushed face, confident smirk, and messy hair pushing you further over the edge. "Let them know who's making you feel this good." He growled before dipping back down to continue his feast on your pussy.

You moaned louder, your care for what the other boys could hear completely gone from your mind. "Yuma.. Fuck... It's so fucking good," you moaned, grinding against his face more.

You felt another finger push its way inside you, his mouth never stopping. His pace was unrelenting, fingers thrusting into you, curling at the right spots to bring primal sounds from your chest.

You could feel your high approaching, the coil in your stomach tightening at the wild pace Yuma had set. "Mmm, gonna cum," you gasped, moans filling the space of the room.

"Gonna cum for me baby? Cum all over my face?" Yuma murmured against your core. It sent you over the edge, your high crashing down in extreme force. Your walls clenched around Yuma's fingers, almost preventing him from continuing his movements, a loud moan of his name filled the room, and escaped under the door.

Yuma worked you through your high, letting you squeeze your thighs around his head and moaning at the feeling. He licked up all your juices, savouring the taste before pulling away to get a good look at you.

"Fuck, look at you baby," a hand ran through his hair as he took you in, the other sliding out of your entrance, as he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck them dry. Your walls clenched around nothing at the sight of him. "You look so fucking hot right now, all fucked out underneath me. Can I take a picture, baby? Hmm? You'll let right?" He babbled, unable to control his desires.

You dumbly nodded, too lost in the afterglow of your orgasm, as Yuma pulled his phone from his pocket. A huge grin spread across his face as the flash went off on his phone. "Fuck..." he groaned, taking in the picture on his screen before tossing his phone to the side.

Before you could register it, Yuma had stripped himself of his bottoms and underwear, and was climbing over your fucked out frame. "Not done yet baby, need to fill you up." He murmured, grabbing his cock and stroking it a few times.

You looked down at his already hard member, its red, leaking tip, loving the way his brows furrowed as he stroked himself. "Spread your legs," he demanded.

You immediately opened your legs for him, Yuma holding the base of his cock, while his other hand was by your head, holding himself up. He positioned himself against your core, but didn't push himself in yet; instead, he slapped his tip against your already sensitive clit.

You jolted at the sudden contact, a whine slipping through your lips. Yuma just smirked as he started rubbing himself through your folds, collecting up all the slick his mouth missed just earlier.

He teased your entrance with his tip, poking at it slightly before pulling away and rubbing through your folds again. You groaned every time he didn't push into you, grabbing onto his shoulders in frustration, "Please, Yuma, don't wanna wait."

Before you could beg again, Yuma's hips slammed into yours, a loud gasp falling from your lips, as a groan fell from his. "Fuck," he moaned out, feeling your walls clenching and sucking him in, "Already trying to milk me, huh?"

You couldn't respond, too busy reveling in the sudden stretch, the fullness of his member inside you. Yuma pulled out before slamming back in again, setting a relentless speed from the start. The force and speed of his thrust caused the bed to creak, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room alongside both your moans and groans.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, and your walls clenched tighter around him, dragging a guttural groan from his chest. You moaned at the feeling of his member assaulting your pussy, and the sounds escaping his lips.

Yuma grabbed your thighs, pressing them to your chest, now thrusting at a deeper angle, earning an almost scream to leave your throat. "Feel good baby?" he moaned, pace never faltering. You could only nod, words unable to form, your mind only focused on your primal desires.

"You're mine," he panted, eyes moving between where you were connected, and holding your gaze, "Only mine, no one else's." You nodded, moans falling from your lips, unable to control them, "Say it," he spat. "I-I'm yours! I'm Yuma's, only Yuma's," you stuttered, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the build of your second high.

Your walls clenched impossibly tighter around him, dragging another primal groan to come out of his mouth, "You gonna cum soon baby?" he panted, eyes locked on yours. "G-gonna cum, mhm" you nodded, not sure if you were making sense anymore. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock."

Your second release hit hard, body twitching and spasming as you almost screamed Yuma's name. Walls clenching so tightly around his member that his pace faltered. Tears spilled down your face at the intense pleasure washing over your body, and the overstimulation of Yuma still pounding into your pussy.

You shook beneath him from pleasure, too fucked out to ask him to slow down as he chased his own release, "Gonna cum in you baby, fill up your pretty pussy, claim you as mine." Yuma babbled loudly as his release caught up to him. One, two, three thrust until he stilled inside you, a loud moaning filling the room, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You whined at the feeling, loving the way his cum felt inside you.

Yuma almost collapsed on top of you from the intensity of his orgasm, breathing heavily as he lay on top of you. Your hands found their way into his hair, playing with the strands as you both came down. He hummed at the sensation once his senses came down, slowly lifting himself up to peer down at you.

The darkness in his eyes had faded, now filled with pure love and adoration. Your fingers stayed loosely in his hair, as one of his hands found its way to your face, thumb caressing your jaw. Neither of you spoke, just taking in each other's presence.

"You okay?" he whispered, breaking the silence, eyes searching yours.

"Mhm," you nodded, offering a tired smile, "I'm okay."

He nodded at you, rolling to the side and dragging you on top of him. You perched on his chest, now smirking at his disheveled state. He groaned at the look on your face, "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" you questioned, trying not to laugh.

"That look!" He gestured to you, sighing as his head hit the pillow. You climbed off his chest and moved to his side, head resting on the pillow with him. He pouted at you before speaking, "I only get jealous 'cause you're mine."

"I didn't say anything." You laughed, hand finding the side of his face to push the loose strands of hair back.

"But you wanted to!" He protested.

"I'm not going to complain if you getting jealous leads to sex like this," you sighed contentedly, earning an eyebrow raise from your boyfriend and a cocky smirk to fall across his features before you continued, "Maybe I should start making you jealous on purpose."

"Hey, no!" he whined, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, "Don't do that, that's just mean." You giggled in his arms, not needing to respond.

You felt yourself dozing off until Yuma started moving his hands on the bed behind you, searching for something. "What are you doing?"

He grunted, mumbling in your ear, "Looking for my phone, wanna see the picture." You laughed at his perverted ways, not leaving his chest as he fumbled around you to get his phone.

"Ah, shit..." he sighed, staring at his screen, before looking down at you, "We're in trouble."

"Huh?" you questioned, not sure what he was talking about. He turned his phone to show you the screen, one new message appearing.

K: What the FUCK was that?

authors note: i love yuma so much send help, that boy DEFINITELY has a jealous streak got carried away again, but uh, let me know what you think! (can you tell i like writing jealousy scenarios)

[jaeyun-ie]

[elikajinnie]

P: Camp Counselor!Jake X Camp Counselor!Reader (MDNI 18+)

Warnings: Prolonged Pining, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Teasing, Mutual Attraction, Oral Fixation, Begging, Big Dick!Jake, Praise Kink, Pussy Drunk!Jake, Attempted Humor, Needy!Jake, Body Worship, Tit Play, MESSY AND SLOPPY, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Dry Humping, Masturbation, Light Humiliation, Belly Bulge, Creampies, Marking, Heeseung being a W wingman.

Wordcount: 22,9k

Synopsis: Jake was the camp’s golden boy, everybody loved his sunshine energy. But around you? He was wrecked. Hopelessly, stupidly whipped. Always hovering, stealing hungry little glances. He wanted to tell you— “I’m in love with you. I want you so badly it hurts.” —but the second you brushed against him or laughed at something he said, his brain shorted out. One touch and he was done for, stuck wondering how much longer he could keep his feelings—and his desire—from exploding.

a/n: Hey! for once its not a dark fic :D but pure filth! so buckle up.. we all remember what that woman said about Jake. REBLOGS AND COMMENTARY IS APPRECIATED!

Jake Sim had never been lucky in love. Not once. Not even by accident.

It was almost comedic at this point: girls loved him at first—sweet, polite, helpful Jake—but by month two they would look him straight in the eyes and say something gentle and devastating like:

“You’re perfect… just not for me.” or “I think I need someone more exciting.” or, the personal favorite: “You’re too nice. It’s boring.”

Then they’d leave him with a broken heart and a playlist full of songs he couldn’t listen to anymore without wincing. After the last breakup—four months ago, six dates in, she’d left him “for someone with more edge”—Jake had sworn off relationships entirely

Jake felt something. Mainly humiliation.

So now he sat on Heeseung’s floor, sprawled on an unrolled sleeping bag even though there was a perfectly fine couch available, groaning loudly into a throw pillow that smelled faintly like beer and laundry detergent.

“I swear, man,” Jake mumbled into the cushion, “I must be cursed. Like—I don’t know—romantically hexed or something.”

Heeseung, who wasn’t listening in the slightest, hummed a vague, noncommittal sound. He was too busy packing: rolling shirts, stuffing toiletries into a bag, misplacing his water bottle six times in three minutes.

Jake didn’t see the suitcase at first.

He didn’t see anything. 

He was too busy wallowing.

“I treat them well, right? I’m nice. I try. I’m not a jerk. I’m respectful. And somehow, they still leave. Every. Single. Time. So clearly the common denominator is me—”

“Mhm.”

“So maybe relationships just aren’t in the cards for me. Maybe I should take a break. A long break. Like a… celibate monk arc or something.”

“That sounds dramatic.”

Jake lifted his head. “I’m dramatic! I’m heartbroken!”

Heeseung zipped up his duffel bag with one hand and tossed a pair of sunglasses in after it. “Then come be a camp counselor with me this summer.”

Jake blinked. “What?”

Heeseung shrugged. “Fresh air. No dating apps. No situationships. No exes. Just kids, nature, and free meals. Might fix your brain.”

Jake stared.

Heeseung continued stuffing socks into corners of the bag.

Jake stared harder.

Heeseung wasn’t kidding, was he?

Jake sat up straighter. A distraction. A purpose. Something new. Something healthy. A break from the heartbreak factory his dating life had become.

He latched onto the idea like a lifeline.

“You know what? You’re right.” Jake sprang to his feet with renewed determination. “I’ll do it.”

Heeseung snorted. “Bro, I was just—”

Too late.

Jake was already gone.

The next morning Heeseung opened his door—and froze.

Because on his porch stood Jake Sim:

Two duffel bags slung over his shoulders.

A bright orange life vest buckled proudly over his shirt.

Sunscreen unevenly smeared in streaks across his face.

A crooked baseball cap.

Sunglasses too big for his head.

A whistle hanging around his neck.

Hiking boots untied.

And the most earnest, determined expression imaginable 

“Morning!” Jake chirped breathlessly. “I’m ready.”

Heeseung blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. 

“…You’re joking.”

“Nope!” Jake stepped forward cheerily, boots thudding on the wooden porch. “Signed up, got accepted, printed the forms, even watched a knot-tying tutorial.”

“But—but I wasn’t serious—”

“Too late! I’m already mentally in nature mode.”

Heeseung ran a hand down his face. “Jaeyun, you look—ridiculous.”

“Prepared,” Jake corrected, beaming.

And prepared he was—prepared enough that when they arrived, he accidentally impressed the camp director by already knowing the emergency protocols, showing his whistle-usage demonstration unprompted, identifying poison ivy correctly and shaking everyone’s hand like he was running for office.

Within an hour, he was given a standard camp uniform, a set of keys, and a shared hut assignment with Heeseung.

Heeseung had mourned.

“Great,” He sighed dramatically, tossing a string of condoms into his drawer. “There goes my bachelor hut. No more bringing hot counselors back here.”

Jake blinked. “…Hot counselors?”

He hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t thought about women at all, actually.

The whole point was to get away from them. Reset. Recalibrate. Heal.

But then—

Then he walked into the staff orientation meeting.

And he saw them.

Women his age. Attractive women. Very attractive women.

Sun-kissed skin. Short shorts. Uniform shirts tied at the waist or stretched across curves. Laughs that carried across the field. Smiles bright as the July sun.

Jake’s brain short-circuited.

Heeseung slapped his back. “Forgot to mention that part. Oops.”

Jake choked. “You—you brought me to temptation island?!”

“It’s literally just a summer camp, bro.”

There was nothing “just” about it for Jake.

He tried his best—really tried—to stay focused. To be professional. To avoid unnecessary touching or staring. To keep his voice steady when talking to female counselors.

He failed often.

But all those attempts shattered the moment you walked in.

You had years of experience written in confident steps. A clipboard under your arm. Hair pulled back loosely, with strands falling in the sun. Two top buttons of your uniform undone,  enough to make Jake swallow hard. A glint of a lacy bra edge that seared itself into his retinas and soul. Little pins decorating your shirt pocket. Bandages sticking out of one cargo pocket. A smile that made the kids run to you like you were the sun itself.

You kneeling to tie a child’s shoelaces? Lethal. You laughing when a little boy told you you were “the prettiest lady ever”? Fatal. You twirling a strand of hair while listening to another counselor? Catastrophic.

Jake had been doomed before you even looked at him. 

And when you did look at him—eyes bright, lips curved in a friendly hello—Jake felt his knees weaken so dramatically he nearly collapsed into the nearest picnic table.

Heeseung, of course, noticed.

“Ah,” he said smugly. “Found your distraction.”

Jake didn’t answer, because for the first time in a long, miserable stretch of heartbreak…

He felt something spark. Something warm. Something like desire. Something like falling.

And unfortunately for him—

It was happening fast.

It was happening hard.

And it was happening with you.

Jake Sim had survived three breakups, one allergic reaction to a cat he tried to impress a girl with, and a disastrous blind date where the woman only talked about her ex’s crypto investments.

But you?

You were the first thing to genuinely terrify him. 

Which is exactly why he spent the next few days avoiding you like you were trained specifically to hunt down boys with fragile hearts. And luckily—miraculously—the kids kept him occupied enough to make avoidance a legitimate battle plan.

Jake made sure his entire schedule left no space for accidentally brushing shoulders with you.

Archery practice? He volunteered. Canoe supervision? Signed up. Arts and crafts? Already promised the kids he’d make them braided bracelets. Bug safety presentation? He memorized the handout and delivered it with genuine enthusiasm.

It helped that thirty-six children seemed determined to orbit him like satellites.

“Jake hyung! Jake hyung! Can you help me find my water bottle?”

“Jake! Tie my shoe!”

“Jake, can you do the whistle thing again?”

Heeseung, watching from across the field, looked like a man witnessing a strange phenomenon.

“Dude,” he said, leaning beside him, “you’re like… dad-coded.”

Jake wiped sweat from his forehead. “Perfect. The more dad-coded I am, the less chance I have of embarrassing myself in front of—” He abruptly clamped his mouth shut.

Heeseung smirked. “Ah. Avoiding that counselor, are we?”

Jake reddened. “I’m not avoiding anyone. I’m being productive.”

Heeseung pointed across the field.

You were kneeling beside a little girl helping her braid wildflowers into a crown, hair glimmering in the sun, shirt loose enough that the breeze caught it.

Jake immediately turned around and pretended to fix a crooked signpost.

Heeseung laughed for a full thirty seconds.

Jake perfected the art of being physically present but socially absent.

When you entered the dining hall? Jake exited stage left, carrying a stack of napkins he didn’t technically need.

When you walked toward the docks? Jake suddenly remembered he left sunscreen in his cabin and sprinted away.

When you greeted him with a warm, friendly “Good morning, Jake!” He panicked, waved too fast, nearly dropped his tray, then escaped into a group of eight-year-olds debating whether frogs could fall in love.

Jake’s system of avoidance worked flawlessly—until nature decided to betray him.

It happened during a swimming rotation.

Jake was teaching a small group how to float on their backs, explaining the basics with gentle encouragement. The sun was warm, the water cool, the kids giggling.

He was happy. Stable.

And then he heard your voice behind him.

“Jake! Can you help me with something?”

Every muscle in his body tensed.

Slowly—agonizingly—he turned.

You were standing at the edge of the dock, clipboard against your chest, sunglasses perched on your head, uniform shirt half-unbuttoned because of the heat.

Jake forgot what language he was speaking for a moment.

“What—uh—help you? Help. Yes. I—yeah. Some… thing. Help.”

You smiled, oblivious to his internal meltdown.

“One of my campers is scared of getting in. You’re great with the nervous ones. Mind giving her a demonstration?”

“Sure,” he croaked. “Happy to help.”

You guided the shy camper forward and knelt beside her, encouraging her gently.

Jake’s heart clenched.

God, you were sweet. Sweet in a way that made him ache. Sweet in a way that made him terrified of falling again.

He moved into the shallow water, demonstrating calmly, voice soft, arms open.

And it worked.

The little girl eventually stepped into the lake, holding onto Jake’s hands, trusting him completely.

You glanced at him, smiling warmly.

Jake forgot to breathe.

As you praised the camper who had conquered her fear, Jake found himself staring.

Not in a “wow, she’s nice” way. But in a “I am absolutely, undeniably screwed” way.

The sun hit your damp shirt in a way that made it cling, outlining the curve of your waist. Your hair was messy from the lake breeze, strands stuck to your cheek. You brushed them back casually and—

Jake swallowed.

He turned back to the kids, voice several octaves too high.

“GREAT JOB EVERYONE, LET’S—uh—float!”

It had started small. Then it got worse.

You had a habit of scribbling notes on your palm when you lost your pen. Jake noticed the ink smudge once and spent the rest of the afternoon wondering what you had written. What you were thinking. What you cared about.

Every day, it felt like you were leaving breadcrumbs without even knowing it.

Breadcrumbs Jake kept picking up like an idiot. He often found himself watching you from across the field—telling himself it wasn’t weird, he was just… aware. Vigilant. Noticing. Except it was weird, because he wasn’t noticing anyone else. Only you.

The way you pushed your hair out of your face when the wind blew. The way your shirt rode up when you bent over to pick up stray sports equipment. The way your hands moved when you talked—soft but animated. The way your laughter rolled across the lawn, making the younger kids giggle just because you did.

He tried to stop.

He really did.

But every time you smiled at someone—even a kid—Jake felt that awful, sinking heat curl in his stomach.

At night in the hut, Jake lay on his back, staring at the wooden ceiling while the darkness pressed in around him. 

He remembered the way your shirt clung to your back when you came in from the heat, the thin fabric damp and outlining things he had absolutely no business noticing. He could still see it when he closed his eyes. He remembered the moment you stretched to hang a sign above the craft table, your uniform lifting just enough to reveal the soft line of your waist. He’d looked away immediately—too fast, too guilty—yet the image stuck to the inside of his skull like honey.

He remembered your voice going low and warm when you comforted a kid who scraped their knee.  It wasn’t meant for him, not even close, but it still sank under his skin, unraveling him from the inside out. He remembered walking behind you on the trail, watching how the breeze tugged at the hem of your shorts—how he’d forced himself to stare at the trees instead, counting them like that would save him.

Each memory hit him with the force of something he wasn’t prepared for, something he couldn’t guard against no matter how hard he tried.

And he hated—truly hated—how quickly his thoughts slipped into places they shouldn’t go. Places that made his breath hitch and heat rise under his skin. 

This summer was supposed to save him. Give him distance. Help him reset.

A clean slate. A distraction. A break from feeling too much.

But all it took was you—just you—and Jake was already spiraling. Falling again, harder than ever. 

Jake groaned low in his throat, the sound muffled against the crook of his elbow as he rolled onto his stomach. The thin camp mattress creaked under him like it was judging every pathetic shift of his hips.

The fan whirred uselessly on the nightstand, pushing lukewarm air across his bare back. It did nothing for the heat crawling under his skin—nothing for the way his pulse had taken up permanent residence between his legs.

He pressed his forehead harder into the pillow, trying to smother the images that kept flashing behind his eyelids.

You, laughing after that cannonball contest with the older kids. You, bending to tie a little girl’s shoelace, the curve of your ass filling out those damn camp shorts like they were custom-made to torture him. 

He imagined what it would feel like to slide his palms up under that damp shirt, fingers splaying wide over your ribs, until you arched into him.

Imagined pinning you against the boathouse wall after lights-out, your legs hooked around his waist, while he ground against you—slow at first, then desperate, fabric dragging over his leaking cock until you were both shaking.

His hips rocked once, involuntary, into the mattress. The friction sent a sharp jolt straight up his spine. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste copper.

“Fuck,” he whispered into the dark.

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t.

But his hand was already moving—sliding down his stomach, past the elastic of his boxers, wrapping around the thick, aching length of himself. He was so hard it hurt; the head flushed dark and slick, smearing precome across his palm the second he touched it.

One slow stroke and his breath punched out of him.

He pictured your mouth instead—soft, parted, tongue flicking out to taste him. Pictured the way your eyes would widen when you realized just how big he was, how you’d have to stretch your lips around the head, cheeks hollowing while you tried to take more. Pictured the little whimper you’d make when he hit the back of your throat, the way your thighs would press together like you were already soaked just from having him in your mouth.

Another stroke—tighter this time, twisting at the crown—and his hips jerked up off the bed.

He imagined flipping you onto your stomach on this very mattress, yanking your shorts down just enough, spreading you open with his thumbs. Imagined the way you’d gasp when he nudged the fat head against your entrance—teasing, barely dipping in—before sinking in until your back bowed and you sobbed his name into the pillow.

“Jake—”

He choked on a whine at the fantasy of you saying it like that—breathless, wrecked, needy.

His fist sped up. The wet, filthy sound of skin on skin filled the tiny cabin, louder than the fan, louder than his breathing. He didn’t care anymore if Heeseung woke up in the next bunk. Didn’t care about anything except chasing the image of you clenching around him, milking him, begging him to come inside, to fill you up.

Heat coiled low and vicious in his gut.

He turned his face into the pillow, muffling the broken moan that tore out of him as he came—hot, messy pulses spilling over his knuckles, soaking into the sheets. His hips bucked through it, chasing every last aftershock, thighs trembling.

Jake lay there for a long minute after, chest heaving, sticky hand still curled loosely around his softening cock. The fan kept droning like nothing had happened. The cabin smelled faintly of pine, sweat, and sex.

He dragged himself up on shaky legs, boxers half-down his thighs, come already cooling on his fingers and streaking the inside of his shorts. He hissed at the mess, at himself, at how pathetic this had become.

The bathroom was just a small stall tacked onto the side of the counselors’ hut— row of sink, flickering bulb, mirror that made everyone look like a zombie at 2 a.m. Jake flicked the light on and winced at his own reflection: flushed cheeks, wild hair, pupils blown wide like he’d been drugged. He looked wrecked. He felt worse.

He turned the faucet to cold and shoved his hand under the stream, scrubbing at the tacky evidence with furious little jerks. Soap foamed pinkish-white down the drain. He kept scrubbing long after it was gone, like he could wash the thoughts out too.

But they came back anyway. Uninvited. Relentless.

His cock twitched against his thigh—already half-interested again, traitor that it was.

“Stop,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the sink edge so hard his knuckles bleached. “Just—fucking stop.” He splashed cold water on his face. It dripped down his neck, soaked the collar of his tank top. Didn’t help. The images kept looping: your thighs parting for him, your fingers in his hair pulling him closer, your voice cracking on his name while he licked into you until you were shaking.

He groaned, low and defeated, forehead thunking against the cool mirror.

He was hard again. Not fully—yet—but enough that the waistband of his boxers tugged uncomfortably. Enough that he could feel the slow, heavy throb returning, insistent, like his body hadn’t gotten the memo that this was supposed to be over.

“You’re disgusting,” he whispered to himself.

The door creaked open behind him.

Jake’s eyes snapped to the mirror.

You.

Standing there in the doorway like a fever dream he hadn’t earned the right to have.

Tiny sleep shorts—barely more than cotton underwear with legs—riding high on your thighs, the hem frayed from too many washes. A thin, worn tank top clinging to you from the humid night air, straps slipping off one shoulder, the fabric so soft and faded it was practically see-through under the shitty bathroom bulb. Your hair was a wild, sleep-tousled mess, strands sticking to your neck from the heat. Flip-flops slapped softly against the tile as you took one hesitant step inside.

You froze when you saw him.

“Jake?” Your voice was sleepy, soft, and surprised. “I—I thought everyone was asleep. I just needed to… brush my teeth or something. Sorry, I didn’t—”

You stopped talking.

Because you’d noticed.

The way he was braced over the sink, shoulders rigid, tank top rucked up from where he’d been gripping the counter. The flush that hadn’t left his cheeks. The obvious, obscene tent in his boxers—thick outline straining against the thin cotton. 

Your eyes widened, pupils blowing out in the dim fluorescent light.

For a split second, the world narrowed to just the two of you: the hum of the fan outside, the drip of the faucet, and the way Jake’s cock twitched visibly under your stare, the fat head pushing insistently against the waistband like it had a mind of its own.

“Shit—fuck—wait—” Jake scrambled, voice cracking high and panicked. He spun half-away from you, one hand flying down to cup himself through the boxers while the other snatched the nearest thing—a thin, ratty hand towel hanging off the rack—and tried to hide it over his crotch like that would somehow erase the last thirty seconds.

The towel was too small. It barely covered anything.

“I—I wasn’t— I mean, this isn’t— fuck, I was just— washing my face! Yeah! Washing my face and— and thinking about— about tomorrow’s schedule! Canoe races! Kids! Lots of kids! Totally innocent!”

The words tumbled out in a frantic, breathless rush. His face was scarlet, ears burning, eyes darting everywhere except your face. He kept shifting his weight, trying to angle his body away, but the mirror betrayed him—every desperate twitch of his hips reflected right back at both of you.

You just stood there, your gaze dropped again to where his hand was futilely trying to shield the bulge. You watched the way his fingers flexed, knuckles white, like he was fighting not to stroke himself right there in front of you.

Jake’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, voice wrecked. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t— I’ll go. I’ll just— I’ll leave. Right now. You can— you can have the bathroom. I swear I won’t—”

Jake took a hesitant step forward, trying to sidestep you toward the door, but the bathroom was small and you were right there, blocking the narrow path like you’d grown roots into the tile.

He froze mid-motion, arms hovering awkwardly at his sides. Every inch of him screamed to bolt, but moving meant brushing past you—meant feeling the heat of your body, the soft brush of your bare arm against his, and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t trust himself not to shatter if he touched you right now.

So he stood there. Frozen. Breathing too fast. The air between you thick.

You still didn’t move.

“Uh—” His voice cracked. “Can you—please—just—” He swallowed hard, eyes darting to the door, then back to you.

You tilted your head, just a fraction. Still silent. Still watching.

The silence stretched until it hurt.

Finally, desperation won.

Jake reached out—gentle, careful, like you were made of glass—and placed one trembling hand on your upper arm. His fingers curled lightly around your bicep, warm skin under his palm, soft and fever-hot from the humid night.

The contact hit him like a live wire.

He pushed—just enough to ease you sideways, creating the barest sliver of space—and slipped past you in one frantic, clumsy movement. His shoulder grazed yours. Your arm slid against his chest for half a second. The scent of your skin—coconut, lake water—flooded his lungs.

The door banged shut behind him as he stumbled out into the cool night air. Flip-flops forgotten somewhere on the bathroom floor. Bare feet slapping against the wooden path as he half-ran, half-staggered back toward the hut.

He could still feel you.

The exact imprint of your arm under his palm—soft, yielding, alive. The ghost of your heat lingered on his skin like a brand. Every nerve ending in his hand tingled, replaying the texture, the warmth, the way your muscle flexed just slightly under his touch.

He burst into the hut, door slamming louder than he meant. Heeseung’s soft snores came from the other bunk—thank fuck he was still asleep.

Jake collapsed onto his mattress face-first, heart hammering so hard it hurt.

He pressed his hand—the same hand that had touched you—against his cheek, trying to cool the flush there.

It didn’t work.

Because now all he could think about was how close he’d been. How easy it would’ve been to pull you against him instead of pushing you away. How your skin had felt like silk under his fingers.

His cock throbbed painfully against the mattress, still hard, still leaking, still aching for the one thing he’d just run from.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice muffled and broken. He was never going to sleep tonight.

Not after… that.

So the next morning, Jake implemented Operation: Avoid you at all costs with military precision.

And he meant it.

He avoided you like you were a live wire and he was barefoot in the rain.

The first new rule: Never be alone with you.

He woke up early—before Heeseung, before the kids, before the mosquitoes even had the decency to start buzzing—just to leave the hut before you could walk by on your usual morning route.

At breakfast, he positioned himself strategically between two tablefuls of kids, knowing you’d never be able to squeeze into the chaos.

During activities, he always made sure another counselor was nearby—someone loud, someone distracting, someone who would prevent you from stepping within arm’s reach.

It worked.

For a few hours.

Then the universe remembered Jake was its favorite target.

And the main problem: You were everywhere.

You walked into the arts-and-crafts cabin to grab paint just as he was slipping out the door. Jake swerved so hard he crashed into a rack of hula hoops.

You laughed softly behind him and Jake nearly ascended into the stratosphere from shame.

Jake was supposed to be supervising the canoe station.

Supposed to be.

Instead, he stood rooted to the dock, gripping his paddle so tightly his knuckles whitened, because across the shoreline—just a few feet away—you were kneeling in the grass helping three little campers tie their life vests.

And the heat was brutal today.

Which meant the camp uniform—already a questionable sin—looked even worse on you. Your shirt clung to every curve. Your shorts were barely shorts at all. Your legs caught the sunlight like it had a personal vendetta against him.

Jake swallowed hard. No—he choked on air.

God, he was so screwed.

You leaned closer to one of the kids, brushing hair from their face. Your shirt dipped. Jake saw far more than he should’ve. His brain immediately short-circuited, crashing like a cheap computer overloaded with images he had no business imagining.

And then his body responded.

Fast. Painfully. Predictably.

Jake inhaled sharply and discreetly tugged his paddle lower, shielding the very visible problem forming in his shorts.

“Dude.”

Heeseung’s voice came from behind him like a death sentence.

Jake jumped. “Wh–what?”

Heeseung leaned his elbow on Jake’s shoulder, smirking like the menace he was.

“You’re staring so hard I’m shocked her clothes haven’t caught fire.”

“I—I wasn’t staring,” Jake stammered, sweating harder than the sun could account for.

“You’re literally drooling.”

“I’M NOT—”

Heeseung just laughed, clapping him on the back. “Bro, you’re gone. Like, beyond gone. NASA couldn’t retrieve your dignity at this point.”

Jake groaned into his hands. “Shut up.”

But it was too late. Heeseung had seen everything—Jake’s flushed face, blown pupils, and the way he kept subtly angling his paddle to hide the mess in his shorts.

Heeseung whistled low. “Wow. She bends over one time and you’re ready to propose marriage?”

“I’m NOT— it’s not— dude, stop talking.”

Heeseung leaned closer, voice dropping. “Then stop looking at her like you want to get on your knees in the middle of the camp.”

Jake choked on his own saliva.

“HEESEUNG!”

“What? I’m just narrating what I’m seeing.”

Jake was going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with a life vest.

Jake, still recovering from the verbal assault that was Heeseung’s commentary, made the single worst mistake of his entire existence.

He looked back at you.

And you were already staring at him.

Not glancing politely. Not half-looking. Not scanning the field. You were focused. Eyes on him like he was something worth noticing—worth studying. Your brows lifted the barest amount, lips soft and parted, like you’d caught him mid-thought… mid-stare… mid-sin.

Jake’s brain detonated.

Full catastrophic system failure.

His throat tightened. His hands numbed. His pulse skyrocketed so violently he wasn’t sure if he was dying or being reborn in the worst possible way.

Because you weren’t just looking at him. You were looking into him.

He felt heat explode across his cheeks, racing down his neck, blooming under his shirt. His heartbeat slammed hard enough to rattle his ribs.

You saw him. You saw him staring. You saw the mess he was trying so desperately, pathetically, humiliatingly hard to hide.

Beside him, Heeseung made a choked noise of triumph—like a man who had just spotted Bigfoot and gotten it on video. 

“Oh my GOD,” he whispered, gleeful as sin. “She’s LOOKING at you—”

And that was it.

Jake panicked. He panicked like someone had just shouted “SHARK!” in knee-deep water.

His grip spasmed.

The paddle slid out of his hands.

“No no no no—” Jake lunged for it.

“DON’T—!” Heeseung snapped, reaching out.

But Jake was already in motion. Already doomed. His foot caught the edge of the dock. His balance tipped backward. His whistle swung up and smacked him in the chin. His sunglasses—how were they even still on—flew off into the air.

Jake grabbed wildly at nothing—truly nothing—because the paddle bounced away from him like it had been training for this moment its whole life. He went down hard, arms flailing, knees buckling, legs pinwheeling like a newborn deer.

And then—

SPLASH.

The sound burst across the entire lake like a small tidal wave. 

Kids shrieked. Counselors gasped. Birds took flight in a panicked cloud overhead. Even the lake seemed offended.

Heeseung made a sound like he was being physically strangled by laughter.

Jake sank beneath the surface with all the grace of a bowling ball. For one long second, he sat there at the bottom of the shallow lake, bubbles drifting up around him as he contemplated every decision that had led to this moment.

Then he kicked up, resurfacing in a violent gasp, sputtering, coughing, eyes wide, looking like a drowned cat that simultaneously regretted every life decision.

But it got worse. Much worse.

Balanced perfectly on top of his head— as if placed there by the comedic gods themselves— was a bright green lily pad.

A lily pad.

On his head.

And sitting comfortably on that lily pad, blinking slowly… was a frog.

A frog.

Jake Sim—camp golden boy, heartbreak survivor, current emotional disaster—was treading water with a literal frog crown.

Kids started laughing. One screamed, “JAKE IS KING OF THE FROGS!”

Heeseung folded onto the dock, wheezing, nearly crying from how hard he was laughing. “Oh—my—god,” he gasped between breaths. “This is the best day of my LIFE.”

Jake spit out lake water. “This isn’t—! I didn’t—! GET IT OFF ME!”

The frog did not get off. It simply adjusted itself, as if settling more comfortably into its throne.

Jake, sputtering and panicked, swiped his hand over his head in a frantic attempt to knock the frog off.

“GO—SHOO—LEAVE ME ALONE—!”

The frog blinked once, unimpressed. Then, with the dignity of a royal being dismissed by an incompetent servant, it hopped off the lily pad and launched itself into the lake beside Jake.

PLIP.

A small, perfectly aimed splash hit Jake right in the face.

Jake shut his eyes, jaw clenching.

Great. Perfect. Amazing.

There went any hope of impressing you. Straight to the bottom of the lake with the lily pad.

He groaned under his breath and swam—miserably—toward the metal ladder bolted to the dock. The water felt colder now, mocking him with each stroke. He grabbed the rungs, dragged himself up rung by rung, boots heavy, clothes clinging to him like a second skin. Dripping. Humiliated. Confidence somewhere downstream, probably floating next to the frog.

The moment he reached the top, two adult counselors rushed over, shoving towels at him.

“Oh my god, Jake, are you hurt?” “Are you okay?” “That was a fall, man.”

“I’m fine,” Jake muttered, rubbing water from his eyes. He was fine. 

Physically. 

Emotionally? He had the confidence level of a damp crouton.

A couple of the other male counselors snickered behind their hands, whispering to each other.  Jake didn’t have to hear the words to know exactly what they were saying. They weren’t exactly subtle. One mimed falling off a dock.  Another did a frog ribbit.

Jake’s jaw tightened. Great. Just great.

He was the newest counselor. The one who was already trying to prove he wasn’t a total walking disaster.

This definitely helped.

Not.

Of course.  He couldn’t even fall into a lake normally…

But none of that mattered.

Because suddenly—

You were there.

Right in front of him.

Where did you even come from? Had you teleported? Materialized from thin air just to make his pulse explode?

“Jake?” you asked softly, stepping closer. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jake forgot how to breathe. He forgot how to stand. He forgot everything.

Because you were looking at him with real concern—warm eyes scanning his face, brow furrowed just a little. Not laughing. Not mocking.

Worried.

About him.

Jake’s heart did a full somersault. And before he could react, you reached up and gently tugged the towel onto his head, fingers brushing his temples. 

“Here,” you murmured. “You’re freezing.”

Jake made a strangled noise.

You started blotting water from his hair, using both hands, the towel rustling softly. You leaned in slightly to reach the back of his head—completely unaware of how absolutely, catastrophically close you were.

Jake went rigid.

Your scent drifted over him—clean laundry, sunscreen, something sweet he couldn’t name. His face hovered dangerously close to your shirt, just inches from your chest, close enough that he could feel the faint warmth radiating from you.

His brain ceased all function.

Thoughts: gone. 

Language: deleted.

Motor skills: offline.

He stared ahead helplessly, praying he wasn’t shaking.

You kept drying his hair, completely focused, completely gentle. “Hold still,” you whispered. “You’ll catch a cold like this.”

Jake tried to respond. He really did. He tried to say, “Thanks,” or “I’m okay,” or literally anything that resembled human speech.

What came out was:

“Ah—gu—h—”

You giggled softly—quiet, warm, like the sound was meant only for him.

The little puff of laughter brushed against his forehead, and Jake’s entire nervous system short-circuited all over again.

You kept drying his hair, gentle fingers working through the wet strands at the back of his head, tugging the towel this way and that. Every small movement seemed to pull you closer. Or maybe he was imagining it. Maybe the universe had decided to personally torture him today.

But no—no, he wasn’t imagining it.

Your chest was definitely inching nearer.

The soft swell of your breasts, barely contained by that thin, slightly damp camp shirt, hovered closer with every careful swipe of the towel. Close enough now that he could see the faint freckles scattered across your collarbone. Close enough that the fabric stretched just a little tighter across your skin. Close enough that when you leaned in to reach the stubborn wet patch at his crown, the very tips of your breasts brushed—barely, feather-light—against his cheek.

Jake’s brain flatlined.

A strangled, high-pitched noise escaped his throat—something between a whimper and a prayer.

Your giggle turned into a soft hum of amusement. “Relax, Jake,” you murmured, voice low and teasing, warm breath ghosting over his temple. “You’re so tense. I’m not gonna bite.”

He wanted to die.

He wanted to live forever.

He wanted both at the same time.

His hands flexed uselessly at his sides, fingers curling into fists so he wouldn’t do something stupid like grab your waist and pull you the rest of the way against him. His face was burning so hot he was sure the lake water was evaporating off his skin in little puffs of steam.

Jake’s eyes squeezed shut.

He was going to pass out.

Right here.

In front of the entire camp.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his ears, in his throat, lower—his shorts suddenly way too tight despite the cold water still dripping down his legs.

You finally pulled back—just enough to look at him, towel still draped over his head like a sad, soggy crown. “There,” you said, smiling that soft, devastating smile. “All better.”

Jake opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“…Th-thanks,” he managed, voice cracking like a thirteen-year-old’s.

Your eyes sparkled with something dangerously close to mischief.

“Anytime, Jake.” Then you gave the towel one last gentle pat—right on top of his head—and turned to walk away, hips swaying just enough to make sure he watched every step.

Jake stood there, dripping, red-faced, towel askew, heart trying to claw its way out of his chest.

After that towel incident, Jake’s dick officially declared independence.

It had a sixth sense for you now—like a goddamn compass needle snapping toward north the second you walked into a fifty-foot radius. Full traitor mode. Uncontrollable. Radar-locked to your presence like some feral heat-seeking missile.

You walked into the mess hall for lunch? Instant throb in his shorts before you'd even crossed the threshold, straining against the zipper like it could smell your coconut lotion from twenty feet away. He'd cross his legs under the picnic table, fist clenched around his fork, pretending to focus on his mystery meat while visions of bending you over that very table flashed behind his eyes.

You laughed during arts & crafts, that husky ripple carrying across the field? His balls tightened. Cock swelled heavy and hot, leaking into his boxers so fast he felt the wet spot bloom. He'd mutter excuses—"Gotta piss"—and bolt to the nearest bathroom stall, slamming the door and yanking his shorts down. Fist wrapped tight around his throbbing length—veins pulsing, head flushed purple and slick—stroking furious and sloppy while he bit his lip bloody to stay quiet. Imagining your thighs spread wide on the craft table, your pretty cunt clenching around his fingers. 

He'd come with a muffled groan, ropes of thick cum splattering the toilet rim, knees buckling as he slumped against the wall. Only then—only after painting his hand white—would the ache finally ebb enough for him to face the world again.

The worst was the day Heeseung walked in.

Jake had bolted to the hut after free swim, your bikini top had slipped just enough while you adjusted a strap, flashing a sliver of underboob that sent him spiraling. Jake thinking he had the hut to himself — curled on his bunk, shorts shoved to his knees, hand flying over his dick as he pictured you on your knees, tiny shorts pooled at your ankles, mouth stretched wide around his girth. Drool dripping down your chin. Eyes watering as you gagged, taking him deeper.

He was so close—thighs trembling, precome slicking his palm when the door banged open.

Heeseung froze in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, eyes wide.

Jake yelped—high-pitched, mortified—scrambling to yank the sheet over his lap.

"SHIT—HEESEUNG—FUCK—SORRY—"

Heeseung slapped a hand over his eyes, but not before that perv glanced down—clocking the sheer size of it.

“DUDE! WE SHARE THIS SPACE! THERE ARE RULES! AT LEAST WARN A GUY!”

"I'M SORRY—OH GOD, I'M SO SORRY—" Jake babbled, rolling off the bed in a tangle of sheets, cock flopping heavy against his thigh as he tried to hide like a cornered animal, trying to tuck himself away while babbling apologies like a broken record. "It won't happen again—swear—I'll go outside—I'll jerk off in the lake—PLEASE DON'T TELL ANYONE—"

Heeseung backed out, still shielding his eyes, laughing so hard he wheezed. "Chill, virgin! I'm not telling the whole camp you're blue-balling over her. But boundaries, bro! Boundaries!"

Heeseung peeked through his fingers, then dropped his hand with a dramatic sigh. “Bro. You’re jerking it like three times a day now.Your dick’s gonna file for workers’ comp.”

“I know! I know! I’m disgusting! I’m sorry—”

“Bro. Listen to me. You are not disgusting. You are tragically horny. There’s a difference.”

Jake dragged both hands down his face, smearing come across his cheek in the process. He didn’t even notice. “I came in my shorts during swim lessons yesterday. Just—watching her adjust her whistle. I had to dive into the lake to hide it.”

Heeseung barked another laugh. “Classic.”

“No it's not!” Jake wailed, flopping backward onto the floor like a starfish of despair. “I tried thinking about baseball. Taxes. My grandma’s knitting club. Nothing works. It’s like my brain is just… her. All the time. Her smile. Her laugh. The way her hair sticks to her neck when she’s wet from the lake. The way her thighs look when she’s sitting on the dock. I’m gonna die, Heeseung. I’m actually gonna die.”

“Okay, drama queen. First: breathe. Second: you need to do something about this before you actually combust. Or before you get caught jerking it in the supply closet again.”

Jake’s head snapped up. “You know about the supply closet?”

“Dude. Everyone knows about the supply closet. There’s a rumor you’ve christened every shelf in there.”

Jake made a sound like a dying animal and pulled the sheet over his head.

Heeseung snorted, leaning against the doorframe, suddenly way too amused. “You know what the funniest part is?”

Jake groaned into his hands. “Please don’t.”

“She’d probably love your little buddy.”

Jake’s head snapped up. “What?”

Heeseung grinned like the devil. “I’m saying, if she knew how whipped your dick is for her, she’d probably be flattered. Might even wanna meet it. Personally.”

Jake’s brain blue-screened.

With a wordless yell, he launched himself across the room—full football tackle—crashing into Heeseung and sending them both tumbling onto the nearest bunk in a tangle of limbs.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP—”

Heeseung cackled underneath him, arms up in mock surrender while Jake tried (and failed) to smother him with a pillow. “Okay okay! Truce! Truce! I’m just saying—she’s got you by the balls, man! Literally!”

Jake groaned—long, defeated, the sound of a man who’d lost every battle with his own dignity—and rolled off Heeseung, collapsing face-first onto the bunk mattress like he’d been shot. The pillow stayed clutched to his chest like a shield.

Heeseung sat up, still grinning, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “You done trying to murder me?”

Jake’s voice came out muffled into the fabric. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t. You love me. I’m your emotional support wingman.” Heeseung poked him in the ribs with his foot. “Come on, bro. You can’t keep living like this. You’re one accidental brush of her hand away from coming in your shorts in front of the entire camp.”

Jake lifted his head just enough to glare. “I’m handling it.”

“You’re not handling it. You’re jerking off six times a day and jumping me like a feral cat every time I mention her tits. That’s not handling it—that’s a cry for help.”

Jake buried his face again. “Shut up.”

Heeseung sighed dramatically, flopping back onto his own bunk and staring at the ceiling like a philosopher. “Look. I’m saying this as your best friend who has seen you suffer more than any human should: confess. Or at least do something. Ask her to help you ‘check the boathouse inventory’ after lights-out. Corner her behind the craft shed. Hell, just tell her you’ve been thinking about her non-stop since day one and your dick won’t give you a single peaceful moment.”

Jake made a strangled noise.

“I’m serious,” Heeseung pressed. “She’s been looking at you like she knows exactly what’s going on in that horny little head of yours. The towel thing? The eye-fucking across the lake? The way she ‘accidentally’ brushes up against you every five minutes? She’s teasing you, man. She wants you to crack. She’s waiting for you to man up and take what you both clearly want.”

Jake rolled onto his back, staring at the wooden beams overhead. His chest rose and fell too fast. “And what if I’m wrong? What if she’s just… being nice? And I make it weird and ruin everything?”

Heeseung snorted. “Dude. She dried your hair like a mom while her tits were literally in your face. That’s not ‘nice.’ That’s foreplay.”

Jake groaned again, dragging both hands down his face. “Fuck.”

“Exactly. Fuck. Her. Preferably soon. Before your balls explode and we have to explain to the camp director why there’s a crater where you used to be.”

Jake was quiet for a long minute. Then, quieter:

“…What if she says no?”

Heeseung sat up again, suddenly serious. “Then at least you’ll know. And you can stop torturing yourself. But Jake—” He leaned forward, voice dropping. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not paying attention. The way her eyes linger. The way she bites her lip when you talk to the kids. She’s not saying no. She’s waiting for you to say yes.”

Jake swallowed hard. His heart was hammering again—not from embarrassment this time, but from something sharper. Hope. Terror. Want.

Heeseung kicked his foot lightly. “So what’s it gonna be, lover boy? Keep hiding? Or finally grow a pair and go get your girl?”

Jake stared at the ceiling for another beat.

Then he sat up slowly, jaw set, eyes a little wild.

“…I’m gonna do it.”

Heeseung’s grin returned full force. “Atta boy. Tonight?”

Jake exhaled shakily. “Tonight?”

The hut suddenly felt too small, the air too thick with the scent of pine and his own unresolved tension. He was still flushed from head to toe, cheeks burning, cock giving a traitorous twitch in his shorts at the mere idea of finally confessing—of touching you, kissing you, burying himself so deep inside you that neither of you could think straight. But first, he had to actually get you alone. How hard could that be? He’d spent the last week dodging you like a pro; reversing it should be easy, right?

Heeseung, sensing Jake's hesitation like a shark smelling blood, hopped off his bunk and grabbed a crumpled notepad from the nightstand—the one they used for doodling dumb canoe race strategies. "Alright, lover boy, let's strategize. We're not sending you in blind. This is Operation Get Jake Laid—er, I mean, Confessed. Whatever..."

Jake rubbed his palms on his thighs like he could wipe away the nervous sweat. "Okay. Plan. Good. What's the move?"

Heeseung paced the narrow space between the bunks, tapping the notepad with a chewed-up pen like he was a general mapping out a battlefield. "First things first: timing. Tonight's the bonfire sing-along after dinner. Everyone's gonna be there—kids roasting marshmallows, staff pretending not to hate 'Kumbaya' for the hundredth time. That's your window. Chaos equals opportunity. You slip away early, say you're grabbing extra firewood or some bullshit. I'll create a distraction—maybe 'accidentally' knock over the s'mores station. Kids go nuts, staff scrambles, and boom—you pull her aside to the boathouse path. It's dark, secluded, romantic as fuck with the lake view. Confess there. Worst case, if she rejects you, you can jump in the water and drown your sorrows."

Jake nodded slowly, picturing it. The boathouse—dim moonlight filtering through the trees, the soft lap of water against the dock. You standing there, close enough to touch, your eyes widening as he finally spilled it all: how he couldn't stop thinking about you, how every brush of your skin made his brain melt and his cock ache, how he wanted to drop to his knees and worship you until you were the one begging. His breath hitched. "Yeah. That... that could work. But how do I get her to follow me? Just... ask?"

Heeseung snorted. "Subtlety, man. Walk by her during the fire, lean in close—like, whisper something about needing help with 'inventory' in the boathouse. Make it sound urgent but flirty. You've got that puppy-dog charm; use it. Girls eat that shit up. And if she hesitates, flash those dimples. Bam. She's hooked."

Jake ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. "Okay. Distraction. Whisper. Boathouse. Got it." He stood again, pacing now himself. "What if someone's with her? She's always got a kid hanging off her or one of the other counselors chatting her up. Remember yesterday? She was braiding hair for like six girls at once during free time."

Heeseung waved it off. "That's why the bonfire's perfect. Everyone's scattered. I'll scout ahead—make sure the path's clear. If there's interference, I'll run blocker. Pretend I need her friend's help with something dumb, like fixing the guitar strings. Easy."

They spent the next twenty minutes hashing out contingencies: If the bonfire ran late, pivot to the morning hike trail before breakfast. If rain hit (unlikely, but summer storms were sneaky), use the supply shed as backup—cozy, private, full of ropes and tarps that Jake's filthy mind immediately twisted into fantasies he had to shove down before Heeseung noticed his shorts tenting again. Heeseung even drew a crude map on the notepad: X for bonfire, arrow to boathouse, stick-figure Jake with hearts for eyes confessing to stick-figure you.

By the time they finished, Jake felt a fragile buzz of confidence. "Alright. This is solid. Thanks, man."

Heeseung fist-bumped him. "Go get cleaned up. And hey—don't chicken out. You've got this."

Jake nodded, grabbing a fresh towel and heading to the showers. Under the lukewarm spray, he tried to psych himself up, but his hand drifted south anyway—wrapping around his half-hard cock, stroking slow as he imagined your reaction. Your lips parting in surprise, then curling into a smile. Your hands pulling him closer. Your thighs wrapping around his waist as he pinned you against the boathouse wall, cock sinking into your tight heat until you were whimpering his name. He came with a choked groan, cum mixing with the water swirling down the drain. Tonight, he promised himself. No more running.

But as dinner rolled around, the plan started crumbling like a stale graham cracker.

You were at the head table, surrounded by a gaggle of giggling preteens who'd apparently declared you their queen. They were all over you—handing you plates, showing off friendship bracelets they'd made "just for you," dragging you into their drama about who kissed who. Jake hovered at the edge of the mess hall, plate in hand, watching like a creeper. Every time he thought about approaching, another kid popped up. Heeseung shot him a thumbs-up from across the room, mouthing "After eating."

Post-dinner cleanup? You volunteered to help the kitchen staff, elbow-deep in soapy water with two other female counselors, chatting and laughing about some inside joke. Jake lingered outside the window like a stalker, pretending to tie his shoe for the third time. Heeseung wandered by, whispering, "Abort. Bonfire next."

The bonfire crackled to life as the sun dipped low, casting orange glows over everyone's faces. Kids clustered around the fire pit, staff scattered on logs and blankets. Jake scanned the crowd—there you were, sandwiched between a hyper ten-year-old boy telling ghost stories and one of the senior counselors, a chatty guy named Sunghoon who kept leaning in way too close to "share" his marshmallows. Jake's jaw clenched. Fuck. He circled once, twice, trying to catch your eye for the whisper ploy, but every approach was blocked: a kid running by with sparklers, the camp director calling everyone for the first song, Heeseung's distraction (a fake spill of chocolate syrup that only drew more people over).

"Pst—Jake!" Heeseung hissed from behind a tree as the group launched into a off-key "The Wheels on the Bus." 

"New plan: Wait 'til s'mores wind down. I'll lure Sunghoon away—say I need help with the canoes for tomorrow. You swoop in then."

Jake nodded, heart pounding. But s'mores time turned into chaos: Sticky fingers everywhere, kids demanding seconds, you organizing a impromptu "s'mores assembly line" with half the staff involved. By the time it quieted, the director announced lights-out in fifteen, and you were already herding your cabin group toward the bunks, arms linked with two girls who wouldn't let go.

Jake deflated against a log, watching your silhouette disappear into the trees. Heeseung plopped down next to him, clapping his back. "Tough break. Tomorrow, then. Early bird gets the worm—or the girl alone."

But tomorrow was worse.

Morning hike: You were at the front of the pack with the lead guide, pointing out birds and plants to an enraptured cluster of kids. Jake hung back, trying to work his way forward, but the trail was narrow, and every time he got close, someone needed water or a bug bite check. Heeseung tried distracting the guide with questions, but it backfired—drawing you into the conversation instead.

Arts and crafts: You were manning the bead station, kids swarming like bees. Jake "casually" wandered over to the paint area nearby, but before he could signal, a little girl dragged you away to judge her macaroni necklace.

Swim time: You were on lifeguard duty with three others, perched on the dock in that red one-piece that hugged every curve, whistle around your neck. Jake swam laps to "cool off," planning to ask for your help with "equipment" after. But post-swim, you got roped into a volleyball game on the beach—surrounded by laughing staff and kids spiking the ball like noobs.

By lunch, Jake was fraying. He and Heeseung huddled in the hut during siesta, notepad out again. "This is insane," Jake muttered, head in hands. "It's like the universe is cockblocking me now! She's never alone. Avoiding her was easy enough—getting her isolated? Fucking impossible!!"

Heeseung tapped the pen thoughtfully. "She's popular. Kids love her, staff loves her. We need stealth. New plan: Fake an injury during archery this afternoon. Nothing bad—twisted ankle or some shit. Ask her specifically to help you to the first-aid cabin. It's private, got that cot in the back. Confess there. I'll cover your group."

Jake's eyes lit up. "That's... genius. Yeah. Let's do it."

Archery rolled around. Jake "tripped" mid-demo—dramatic groan, clutching his ankle like he'd been shot. The kids gasped; staff rushed over. "I'm good, just—ah, shit—twisted it. Hey, can someone grab Y/n? She's great with this stuff."

But fate laughed. You were already there, kneeling beside him with concern etching your pretty face—but so was half the camp. The director insisted on two people helping him limp to the cabin, and a nurse volunteer tagged along. Inside, it was a circus: Ice packs, questions, kids peeking in the door. No alone time. The "injury" fizzled out fast—Jake had to fake recovery to avoid real medical attention.

Dinner: More crowds. 

Evening games: You refereed capture the flag, untouchable, no time alone.

By nightfall, Jake was back in the hut, collapsed on his bunk, cock throbbing painfully from a day of near-misses and pent-up fantasies. Every glimpse of you—bending to tie a shoe, laughing with wind-tousled hair—had him hard and leaking again. He'd jerked off twice already, once in the woods mid-hike (hiding behind a tree, fist flying as he imagined pinning you against it, rutting into your soaked pussy while you muffled moans into his neck), once in the shower (coming to the thought of you on that lifeguard chair, legs spread, his face buried between them until you squirted on his tongue).

Heeseung flopped down, undeterred. "Alright, Plan Z: Tomorrow's the talent show prep. She's emceeing. I'll sign us up for a 'duet' or something dumb—get you backstage with her. Private green room vibes."

Jake groaned, rolling over. "If this doesn't work, I'm quitting camp. Moving to Antarctica. Penguins don't tempt me."

Heeseung laughed. "Hang in there. She's worth the blue balls."

But as Jake drifted off, dick still half-chubbed under the sheets, he wondered if he'd survive another day of this torture. Getting you alone wasn't just hard—it was a goddamn quest. And he was more desperate than ever to win.

The talent show prep turned out to be another spectacular disaster in Jake's ongoing saga of blue-balled misery. He and Heeseung had signed up for a "duet"—some half-assed acoustic cover of an old camp song that Jake could barely strum through without his fingers shaking from nerves. The plan was simple: Get backstage with you during rehearsals, where you'd be organizing the lineup. The "green room" was really just a curtained-off corner of the main pavilion, cluttered with props and folding chairs—private enough for a quick confession, or at least a stuttered invitation to talk later. Heeseung would "forget" his guitar picks or something, leaving Jake alone with you for those precious few minutes.

But reality? A shitshow. The pavilion was packed with hyper kids practicing their acts: Little girls twirling batons, boys doing awkward magic tricks, a group of teens attempting a rap battle that devolved into giggles. You were in the thick of it, clipboard in hand, directing traffic like a pro—smiling that soft, devastating smile as you adjusted a kid's costume or gave a thumbs-up to a nervous singer. Jake lurked at the edge, guitar slung over his shoulder, heart hammering so loud he was sure the strings were vibrating from it. When Heeseung finally nudged him forward during a break, Jake approached, mouth dry. "Hey, uh..." he managed, voice cracking like he was back in puberty. You straightened up, turning with that warm gaze that made his knees weak. "Need help with... with the script? Or something?"

You blinked, then laughed softly—god, that sound went straight to his balls. "Actually, yeah! Can you hold this for a sec?" You thrust the clipboard at him, your fingers brushing his in the handoff. Electric. His dick twitched hard, thickening instantly like it knew exactly who was touching him. But before he could stammer out anything resembling a confession, a swarm of kids descended: "Miss, my hat fell off!" "Can I go next?" "Look at my dance!" You were pulled away in a whirlwind of tiny hands and excited chatter, leaving Jake standing there with the clipboard pressed awkwardly against his crotch to hide the growing bulge. Heeseung shot him a sympathetic shrug from across the room, but the moment was gone. Rehearsal ended with Jake barely exchanging three words with you beyond "Here you go" when you reclaimed the board.

That night, back in the hut, Jake jerked off furiously under the sheets—fist pumping his thick cock in brutal strokes. He came with a muffled groan, cum spilling hot over his knuckles, but the relief was temporary. Hollow. He needed the real thing.

The next day brought more failures, each one chipping away at Jake's sanity like a dull axe. Morning yoga session by the lake: You were leading a group stretch, and Jake "casually" joined, positioning himself in the back row for a view that nearly killed him—your body bending into downward dog, ass up, shorts clinging to every curve. His cock went rock-hard in seconds, throbbing painfully against his thigh. 

The plan was to linger after, ask for "private tips" on his form. But as the group dispersed, Sunghoon—that tall, smug bastard with the perfect hair and easy charm—sauntered over, slinging an arm around your shoulders like he owned the place. "Hey, great class. Wanna grab coffee from the mess hall? I could use some pointers too." You laughed, nodded, and walked off with him, leaving Jake frozen.

Afternoon canoe races: Heeseung rigged it so Jake's team "needed" your help as a spotter on the dock. But the races turned chaotic—kids capsizing, laughter echoing, and you ended up knee-deep in the water, helping flip boats and towel off soaked campers. Jake paddled close, ready to "accidentally" bump your section and pull you aside, but Sunghoon appeared again, "helping" by lifting you out of the water with his hands on your waist—your wet shirt clinging transparently to your breasts. Jake's vision tunneled red. Alarms blared in his head: Red zone. Danger. Back off. He paddled away furiously, beaching the canoe and disappearing into the boathouse for a frantic wank.

Evening campfire stories: Heeseung's new ploy—start a "scary tale" chain and "need" you to sit next to Jake for "moral support." But you arrived flanked by staff, including Sunghoon, who plopped down beside you first, sharing a blanket and whispering something that made you giggle. Jake sat across the fire, staring daggers, his dick traitorously hardening at the sight of your lips curving into that smile—even if it was for someone else. The alarms in his head screamed louder: He's too close. Touching her knee. Fuck him. 

Jake excused himself early, claiming a headache, and jerked off in the hut. 

The failures piled up like a cruel joke. 

By mid-week, Jake was a wreck—eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights. Heeseung was fraying too, his pep talks turning exasperated. "Dude, this is ridiculous. She's like a magnet for people. And Sunghoon? That guy's orbiting her like a fucking moon. Saw him 'accidentally' bump her during volleyball yesterday—hand on her ass for a second too long. If you don't do something soon, he's gonna beat you to it."

Possessive heat curled low in his gut, twisting with jealousy until he felt physically sick.

“I’m done, man,” he mumbled, voice cracking. “I’m done. She’s too busy. Too liked. Everyone wants a piece of her—kids, counselors, fucking Sunghoon. I can’t even get close without someone interrupting. Penguins in Antarctica sound better than this torture. They don’t have perfect tits and laugh like angels and make my dick try to escape my body every five seconds.”

Heeseung flopped backward onto his own bunk, arms spread wide, staring up at the wooden ceiling beams like they held the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

“Maybe,” he conceded, tone dry. “But watching Sunghoon get closer? That’s the cherry on top of this shit sundae. Alarms are blaring for a reason, bro. Red zone. Full red alert. If he makes a move first…”

Jake’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles bleached white. The thought hit him like a punch to the solar plexus—Sunghoon’s perfect, smug face leaning in, lips brushing yours, hands sliding under your tank top to cup your breasts while you arched into him with that soft little gasp Jake had only heard in his filthiest dreams. Sunghoon’s cock—probably average, probably nothing like Jake’s—pushing into your perfect, tight, dripping pussy, stretching you open while you moaned his name instead of Jake’s.

The image was so vivid Jake could almost hear it: the wet slap of skin, your breathy whimpers, Sunghoon’s low groan as he bottomed out inside you. Jake’s vision tunneled red while his heart hammered with a mixture of murderous jealousy and bone-deep despair.

“I can’t,” he whispered, voice raw. “I can’t watch him touch her. I can’t watch him make her smile like that. I can’t—I’ll fucking die, Heeseung. I’ll actually die.”

Heeseung watched Jake unravel for a long moment—fists clenched, eyes glassy, breathing too fast—like the guy was one wrong word away from either punching a wall or bursting into tears. Finally, Heeseung sighed, long and dramatic, and flopped back onto his bunk with the air of a man who had officially thrown in the towel.

“Alright,” he said, voice flat, resigned. “Fine. You win. She’s untouchable. Sunghoon’s probably already got his tongue down her throat behind the craft shed or whatever. Let’s just… move on. There are other fish in the lake, right? Plenty of hot counselors who aren’t currently being fought over by every breathing person in a ten-mile radius.”

Jake didn’t respond. He just stared at the ceiling, jaw so tight it looked painful.

Heeseung kept going anyway, ticking names off on his fingers like he was reading from a mental catalog.

“There’s Minji from the arts cabin—tall, legs for days, always smells like vanilla and paint thinner. She’s got that whole ‘quietly unhinged artist’ vibe. Could be fun.”

Nothing from Jake. Just a slow blink.

“Or Yuna,” Heeseung continued, undeterred. “Lifeguard duty with her would be a religious experience. She’s got abs you could grate cheese on and that little mole right under her left eye? Deadly. She smiled at me once during relay races and I forgot how to swim.”

Still nothing. Jake’s breathing was shallow, like he was trying not to hyperventilate.

Heeseung rolled onto his side, propping his head on one hand. “Chaeryeong’s single now, too. The one with the short black hair and the lip piercing? She’s got that ‘I could ruin your life and you’d thank me’ energy. Probably bites. You like biting, right?”

Jake’s voice came out small, cracked. “Stop.”

Heeseung ignored him.

“Or hell—go for someone completely different. Jiwoo from the mess hall. She’s sweet, makes those killer brownies, always smells like cinnamon. Zero drama. Zero competition. She’d probably bake you cookies after you fuck. Low stakes. Safe.”

Jake’s fists clenched harder. His knuckles were white.

Heeseung kept listing, voice getting flatter with each name.

“Soojin. The one who teaches archery. Quiet, deadly accurate, thighs that could crush a watermelon. She’d probably pin you to the target board and have her way with you. Hot, right?”

Jake’s breathing hitched.

“Or Hyein. Blonde, always in those little sundresses, giggles at everything. Easy. No baggage. She’d probably blush the whole time and call you ‘oppa’ while you—”

“Stop.”

The word ripped out of Jake like a gunshot.

Heeseung finally went quiet.

Jake sat up slowly—elbows on his knees, head in his hands, shoulders hunched like he was trying to fold in on himself.

“None of them are her,” he whispered, voice raw and trembling. “None of them laugh the way she does. None of them smell like coconut and lake water and summer. None of them look at the kids the way she does—like they hung the fucking moon. None of them make my chest hurt just by existing in the same zip code.”

He dragged his hands down his face, hard enough to leave red marks.

“I don’t want Jiwoo’s brownies or Yuna’s abs or Chaeryeong’s lip piercing or any of it. I want her. I want her smile. I want her teasing me across the mess hall. I want her thighs wrapped around my waist. I want her moaning my name. I want to wake up every morning and see her marks on my neck and know I put them there.”

He looked up at Heeseung—eyes red-rimmed, voice cracking on every word.

“And if Sunghoon gets there first… if he touches her, if he kisses her, if he makes her come… I’m gonna lose it. I’m gonna fucking break. Because she’s supposed to be mine. She’s always been mine. And I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it.”

Jake's life really sucked sometimes.

Jake’s blood ran hot and cold at the same time.

Fifteen minutes after lights-out, the camp had fallen into that soft, cricket-laced quiet. He was supposed to be in his own hut, following Heeseung’s latest desperate plan: wait until tomorrow’s canoe trip, “accidentally” capsize near you, then use the chaos to pull you aside on the far shore. Simple. Safe. Controlled.

Instead, he was crouched behind the big pine tree that overlooked the girls’ row of huts, heart slamming against his ribs like it wanted out.

Because he’d seen you.

You stepping out of your cabin door, hair loose and messy from the day, wearing that oversized camp hoodie that swallowed your frame and those tiny shorts that barely existed. And Sunghoon right there beside you—close enough that his shoulder brushed yours when you laughed at whatever smooth bullshit he’d just said. The two of you lingered on the porch for what felt like an eternity: heads bent together, your hand brushing his arm once—twice—before he leaned in and murmured something that made you smile that soft, devastating smile.

Jake’s stomach twisted into a green, burning knot.

Then Sunghoon gave you a lazy, smug little wave—fingers lingering in the air like he owned the right to touch you—and sauntered off toward the boys’ side, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed like a man who knew he was winning.

You watched him go for a second.

Then you turned, slipped back inside your hut, and closed the door.

Jake didn’t think.

He just moved.

His feet carried him across the pine-needle path before his brain could catch up. Every step felt like stepping off a cliff. Alarms blared louder in his head—not the jealous ones this time, but the: “this is insane, you’re going to get fired, you’re going to ruin everything” ones. 

He ignored them.

The door to your hut was in front of him, he tested the handle—quiet, careful—and it gave easily under his palm.

He pushed the bug net aside with trembling fingers and slipped inside.

The air hit him like a drug.

Warm. Sweet. Coconut sunscreen mixed with vanilla body lotion and the faint smoky trace of the bonfire that had clung to your clothes all night. Candles flickered on the small wooden table near the window—three of them, soft golden light dancing across the walls, turning everything hazy and intimate. The scent of melting wax and you wrapped around him so completely he nearly groaned out loud.

And there you were.

Standing with your back to him.

Undressing.

The oversized hoodie was already off, pooled at your feet. You were shimmying out of the khaki shorts, letting them slide down your legs until they puddled around your ankles.

All that was left were the tiniest pair of lacy panties—white, delicate, the kind with little satin ribbons. The fabric hugged the perfect curve of your ass, barely covering anything, the lace so sheer he could see the shadow of skin beneath.

You reached for the thin cotton sleep top folded on the edge of your bunk. No bra. Nothing underneath. Just soft, bare skin and the gentle sway of your breasts as you lifted your arms to pull the top over your head.

Jake’s mouth went dry.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound.

You hadn’t noticed him yet.

You were humming softly under your breath—some little tune from the campfire—completely unaware that he was standing in the doorway, staring like a man starved.

The green monster in his chest roared louder than ever.

She was alone.

No Sunghoon. No kids. No staff. Just you. In lace panties. 

And Jake—desperate, defeated, possessive, aching Jake—finally snapped.

He stepped forward.

The floorboard creaked.

Your humming stopped.

You froze, hands still tangled in the hem of your sleep top.

Slowly—agonizingly—you turned.

Your eyes widened when they landed on him.

“Jake…?” Your voice was barely a whisper, soft and surprised and a little breathless.

He didn’t move. Every muscle was locked tight, gaze raking over you like he was trying to memorize every inch before you screamed or told him to get out.

Your nipples were visible through the thin cotton of the top—hard little peaks that made his mouth water. The lace panties clung to you, the fabric already darkened slightly between your thighs.

You didn’t cover yourself. You didn’t scream.

You just stared back at him—eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks flushing a deep, telling pink.

And then, so quietly he almost missed it:

“…You’re not supposed to be here.”

But you didn’t tell him to leave.

And Jake—heart in his throat, cock throbbing so hard it hurt—took another step closer.

“I know,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “But I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

Jake took that final, trembling step forward, crossing the threshold completely into your hut. The wooden door swung shut behind him with a soft, definitive thud that echoed in the quiet space like a heartbeat.

He reached back without looking—fingers finding the simple metal latch—and slid it home.

Click.

The sound was small, but it rang out sharp and clear in the candlelit hush. No one could walk in now. No interruptions. Just the two of you.

Your breath caught audibly—a tiny, startled hitch that made Jake’s cock jump hard in his shorts. He watched the way your eyes widened fractionally, pupils blowing out in the flickering light. Your lips parted on a soft, involuntary exhale. You didn’t move to stop him. Didn’t protest. If anything, your body language shifted—shoulders relaxing just a touch, thighs pressing together almost imperceptibly.

The thrill of it surged through him like lightning.

You liked the sound of that lock.

You liked being trapped in here with him.

Jake’s pulse roared in his ears. His hands flexed at his sides, aching to touch you, but he forced himself to stay still for one more second, drinking in the sight of you like a man who’d been starving for years.

Jake’s voice came out rough, almost broken. “You didn’t tell me to leave.”

Your gaze flicked to the locked door, then back to his face. Your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip and Jake nearly groaned out loud at the sight.

“I know,” you whispered, voice soft and a little shaky, but there was heat underneath it. “I… I didn’t want to.”

Another step. Closer now. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off your body, smell that intoxicating mix of coconut and vanilla and you.

His eyes dropped to your chest again—couldn’t help it—watching the way your breasts rose and fell with each quick breath. Then lower, to the lace clinging to your hips. “I’ve been going fucking insane,” he rasped, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Every time I see you… every time you smile, or laugh, or bend over, or just exist… I get so hard it hurts. I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep… I can’t stop wanting you.”

Your thighs pressed together and a tiny, needy sound escaped your throat.

Jake took one more step. Now he was close enough to touch. Close enough that if either of you leaned forward even slightly, your bodies would meet. He lifted one shaking hand, hovering it near your cheek—giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

Instead, you tilted your head just enough that your cheek brushed his palm. Soft. Warm. Perfect.

His thumb traced the line of your jaw, slow and reverent.

“I saw you with Sunghoon tonight,” he admitted, voice low and raw. “Laughing. Touching his arm. Smiling at him like that. It fucking killed me. I wanted to drag him away and show him you’re mine.”

Your eyes fluttered half-shut at the rough edge in his voice, but the corner of your mouth curled—just a tiny, wicked little tilt that made Jake’s heart stutter.

“Yours?” you echoed softly, voice breathy and teasing, like you were tasting the word. Your cheek stayed pressed to his palm, nuzzling ever so slightly into his touch. “That’s a pretty big claim, Jake… especially when you’ve barely said two words to me all week.” You tilted your head further, letting your lips brush the pad of his thumb—barely a kiss, more like a ghost of one. Just enough to make his breath hitch audibly. “I mean,” you continued, voice dropping lower, silkier, “if I’m yours… then why did Sunghoon get to make me laugh tonight? Why did he get to walk me back to my hut? Why did he get to touch me right—” You lifted your hand and traced one fingertip down the length of his forearm, following the tense line of muscle. “—here?”

Jake’s entire body locked up. A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest—half growl, half plea.

You leaned in closer, lips hovering just shy of his, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath against his mouth. “Were you jealous, puppy?” you whispered, the pet name slipping out sweet and cruel at the same time. “Did it hurt watching him get so close? Did you imagine ripping him away and fucking me right there on the porch so he’d know who I really belong to?”

That was it.

The last thread of Jake’s restraint snapped like a cheap string. With a broken, desperate groan he surged forward—hands clamping around your waist like iron bands, yanking you flush against him so hard your feet left the floor for a split second. His mouth crashed down on yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was filthy. Starving. All teeth and tongue and weeks of pent-up obsession pouring out at once. He kissed you like he was trying to devour you—lips bruising yours, tongue plunging deep to taste every corner of your mouth, swallowing the soft, surprised moan you let out. One hand slid up your back, fingers tangling roughly in your hair to angle your head exactly how he wanted.

His other hand slid down your body with rough, greedy purpose—fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass through the thin lace of your panties. He squeezed hard, kneading the curve like he was trying to imprint himself into your skin.

A low, broken groan vibrated against your lips as he rolled his hips forward—slow at first, testing, savoring—then harder, more insistent. The thick, heavy length of his cock dragged against your lace-covered pussy with every grind, the rigid heat of him pressing right where you were already soaked and aching. 

“Fuck—” he gasped into your mouth, voice wrecked and trembling. “You feel that? That’s all for you. Been like this for weeks.” He ground again—deeper this time, hips snapping forward in a filthy rhythm that made your clit throb against the swollen head of his cock through the layers. 

Jake’s control was unraveling fast. His brain was gone—completely hijacked by the pulsing, aching need between his legs. His dick had taken over like some feral puppet master, yanking every string, making his hips buck harder, faster, more erratic. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. “Shit—shit, baby—” he panted, forehead dropping to your shoulder, teeth scraping over your collarbone. “Can’t—can’t think—need you so bad it hurts—fuck, you’re so wet, I can feel it through everything—”

He was shaking now—whole body trembling with the effort of holding back, but his hips wouldn’t listen. They kept grinding, kept fucking against you like he was already inside, like he could come just from this alone. One particularly hard thrust had you gasping and Jake whimpered. A real, broken, needy sound that he couldn’t swallow back.

“S-sorry—fuck, I’m sorry—” he babbled against your neck, but he didn’t stop. “Just—need to feel you—need to—gonna come like this if you don’t stop me—please—”

You didn’t stop him.

Instead, you leaned in closer—lips brushing the shell of his ear—and whispered, soft and wicked, “Come like this, Jake. Right here. Make a mess for me.”

That was all it took.

He came hard—so hard—hot, thick pulses spilling into his shorts, soaking through the fabric in heavy, obscene spurts. A long, wrecked moan vibrated against your neck, muffled into your skin as he shuddered through every wave, hips stuttering, cock jerking with each rope of cum that painted the inside of his shorts. “F-fuck—oh god—baby—” he babbled, voice cracking, tears pricking the corners of his eyes from how intense it was. 

When the last pulse finally ebbed, he sagged against you—forehead dropping to your shoulder, chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. 

You didn’t let him catch his breath.

Your fingers tightened in his hair again—harder this time—and you pulled his head back just enough to crash your mouth against his in a deep, filthy kiss.

Jake moaned into it—loud, devastated, the sound vibrating against your tongue. He kissed you back desperately, sloppy and needy, letting you lead. His tongue slid against yours, tasting faintly of salt and desperation, and when you tugged his hair again—sharp, possessive—he made the most broken, wrecked noise from the back of his throat. You pulled him with you, guiding him backward step by stumbling step until the backs of his knees hit the edge of your bunk.

One firm push, and he went down.

He landed on the mattress with a soft oof, legs splayed, chest still heaving. The kiss broke with a wet, obscene sound—strings of saliva connecting your lips for a heartbeat before snapping.

Jake stared up at you, dazed and utterly ruined. His hair was a wild mess—strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyes huge and glassy with that big, pleading puppy look that made your stomach flip. Drool glistened on his swollen, kiss-bitten lips and ran in a thin line down his chin. His cheeks were flushed dark red, pupils blown so wide they were almost black.

And between his legs—

The incriminating wet stain on his shorts was massive. Dark, spreading across the front, clinging to the thick outline of his cock. Even now—after coming so hard he’d nearly blacked out—there was still a heavy, obscene bulge there. His dick hadn’t gone down at all. If anything, it looked even thicker, twitching visibly under the soaked fabric like it was already begging for more.

You slid down slowly, your knees hitting the worn wooden floor of the hut with a soft thud that seemed to echo, Jake’s breath punched out of him in a sharp, shaky exhale as he watched you settle between his spread thighs, your hands resting lightly on the tops of his knees.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice cracking. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides, like he didn’t know whether to reach for you or grip the sheets to keep himself grounded.

You looked up at him through your lashes—eyes dark, lips parted—and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his ruined shorts. The fabric was soaked through, clinging obscenely to his skin, the dark stain spreading from the thick outline of his cock all the way down his inner thighs.

You tugged.

Jake lifted his hips on instinct, helping you drag the shorts and boxers down in one pull. The elastic caught for a second on the swollen head of his dick before snapping free, and then he was bare—springing up against his stomach with a wet slap.

His cock was thick, veiny, flushed an angry dark pink at the base and deeper at the tip where precome still leaked in steady, glistening beads. The length curved slightly upward, heavy and throbbing, the slit weeping openly. Cum from his earlier release still streaked the shaft in pearly ropes, mixing with fresh precome to make everything slick and shiny.

You gasped involuntarily, eyes widening as you took him in fully.

Jake’s entire body tensed. His face flushed deeper, a wave of self-consciousness crashing over him even as his dick twitched violently at the sound. “Shit—sorry—I know it’s… it’s a lot, I get it, I can—” The words tumbled out in a frantic, breathless ramble, hands fluttering like he wanted to cover himself. “I didn’t mean to—fuck, I can go if it’s too much, I don’t want to—” His babbling choked off into a strangled, high whimper the second your fingers wrapped around him.

Your grip was warm and perfect, circling the thick base where your thumb and fingers barely met. You gave one slow, experimental stroke upward, and Jake’s hips jerked up off the mattress like he’d been shocked.

Then you leaned in.

And kissed the tip. 

Just a gentle press of your lips to the swollen, leaking head, tasting salt and him on your tongue.

Jake’s head fell back against the pillow with a broken, devastated moan—long and raw, the sound tearing from deep in his chest. His hands flew to the sheets, knuckles bleaching white as he gripped them hard enough to tear fabric.

You lingered—lips still brushing the sensitive slit, letting your tongue flick out in a swipe to collect the fresh bead of precome that had welled up the moment your mouth touched him. The taste of him burst across your tongue: salty, musky, unmistakably Jake. 

A high, broken whine tore from his throat—raw and helpless—and his hips bucked upward, pushing the swollen head past your lips just enough for you to feel how hot and velvet-hard he was against your tongue. “F-fuck—oh god—please—” His voice cracked, trembling on every syllable. Veins pulsing along his forearms where his hands gripped the sheets like a lifeline. Knuckles white. Fingers shaking. 

You hummed softly around the tip—barely a vibration—and Jake’s head snapped forward. His eyes flew open, glassy and wide, pupils blown so huge they swallowed the hazel entirely. He looked wrecked: cheeks flushed dark, mouth hanging open, drool shining on his chin, messy hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. That big, pleading puppy stare locked onto you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

“Baby—shit—I can’t—I’m gonna—” 

You pulled back just enough to speak—lips still brushing the head, breath hot against the slick skin. “Shh,” you murmured, voice low and soothing, almost teasing. “I’ve got you.”

Then you took him deeper.

Just the tip at first—lips wrapping around the fat, flushed crown, tongue swirling slow circles over the slit while your hand stroked the base in long, firm pulls. Jake’s moan was immediate and devastating—long, ragged, breaking into little whimpers every time your tongue flicked the sensitive underside. 

“Oh fuck—oh fuck—your mouth—baby, your mouth—” The words dissolved into another whine as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking gently, letting your tongue press flat against the underside and drag back up in one slow, wet stroke.

Fresh precome flooded your mouth. His cock throbbed so hard you felt it against your tongue, thick veins pulsing under your grip. You could taste how close he already was again—how the earlier orgasm had done nothing to take the edge off, only made him more sensitive, more desperate.

One of his hands flew to your hair—fingers tangling gently at first, then gripping tighter as he fought not to push. “Please—please—don’t stop—gonna—gonna come again—fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t—”

You answered by taking him deeper still—half his length sliding into the wet heat of your mouth, lips stretching wide around his girth. Your tongue worked relentlessly—swirling, pressing, lapping at the underside while your hand stroked what you couldn’t fit.

Jake’s back bowed off the mattress. A strangled cry ripped from his chest—high and broken—and his thighs trembled violently around you.

“Baby—oh god—gonna—gonna come—”

He tried to warn you. Tried to pull back.

But you didn’t let him.

You sucked harder—hollowing your cheeks, tongue flicking the slit one last time—and Jake shattered. 

His hips snapped up, burying another inch deeper as he came with a long, wrecked moan that echoed off the cabin walls. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your mouth—pulse after pulse, so much it spilled past the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin in messy streaks. 

Jake collapsed back against the pillows with a shuddering exhale, his entire body going limp as the last weak pulses of his orgasm ebbed through him. His head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded and glassy, mouth open in a dazed, wrecked expression—like he’d just been hit by a truck and loved every second of it.

You pulled off him slowly, lips swollen and glistening, a soft, wet pop echoing in the quiet hut as the head slipped free from your mouth. Thick strings of cum and saliva stretched between your tongue and the flushed, still-throbbing tip—glistening, obscene, snapping one by one as you leaned back. A final bead of his release clung to your lower lip before you licked it away with a slow swipe of your tongue.

“Your turn now,” he rasped suddenly, voice wrecked but burning with intent. “Been dying to taste you—been dreaming about it every fucking night.”

Before you could respond, he surged up—hands strong despite the way they still shook—and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed on the soft sheets with a quiet gasp, hair fanning out around your head like a halo. Jake climbed over you instantly, caging you beneath him with his broad shoulders and trembling arms. 

He kissed you deeply—messy, desperate, tasting himself on your tongue and groaning into your mouth like the flavor drove him insane. His lips were swollen, breath ragged, teeth grazing your bottom lip as he poured everything into the kiss: gratitude, obsession, raw need. 

Jake’s hands roamed—sliding up your sides, under the hem of your thin sleep top. His palms were warm, calloused from weeks of camp work, and they trembled slightly as he pushed the fabric higher. Inch by inch, he revealed you: the soft curve of your stomach, the dip of your waist, the underside of your breasts. He broke the kiss just long enough to drag the top over your head and toss it somewhere behind him, only to immediately descend—hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing down the column of your throat like he was starving and you were the only thing that could feed him. 

When he reached the swell of your breasts, he paused, breath ragged and hot against your skin, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Can I…?” he whispered, voice hoarse, almost pleading.

You nodded, fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently. “Please, Jake… touch me. Taste me. I want you to.”

Jake groaned and dove in like a man who’d finally been given permission to worship. His mouth closed around one nipple, hot and wet, tongue swirling slow circles around the hardened peak before he sucked—hard, greedy, pulling the sensitive bud deep into his mouth. His hand cupped your other breast, thumb brushing back and forth over the nipple in perfect rhythm with his tongue. 

You arched into him with a soft, needy moan, back bowing off the mattress. “Oh god—Jake, yes—just like that…”

The praise hit him like a drug.

He moaned against your breast and switched sides, giving the other nipple the same devoted attention. “Fuck—you taste so good,” he mumbled against your skin, voice muffled and wrecked. “So perfect—been dreaming about these tits every night—wanted my mouth on them so bad—”

You threaded your fingers deeper into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him whimper around your nipple. “You’re so good, puppy,” you breathed, voice trembling with pleasure. “So good with your mouth—don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

His hands roamed everywhere—kneading, squeezing, thumbs flicking your nipples until they were swollen and aching. He buried his face between them, groaning deep in his throat as he nuzzled the soft valley, then dragged his tongue up the underside of one breast in a slow, filthy stripe before latching on again.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, voice thick with awe. “So fucking beautiful.”

He shifted lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the center of your stomach, worshipping every inch. His tongue dipped into your navel, swirling lazily before he pressed a lingering kiss just above it. His hands followed—palms sliding up your sides, thumbs tracing your ribs, fingers splaying wide across your waist like he was trying to hold all of you at once. 

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, voice cracking with emotion. “Every single part of you—fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted to touch you, taste you, make you feel how much I—” His hands slid down to your thighs, spreading them wider with gentle pressure, thumbs stroking the soft inner skin in slow circles.

He looked up at you again—eyes shining, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glistening.

“I love you,” he whispered, raw and shaky, like the confession had been ripped out of him. “I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts. Every smile, every laugh, every time you look at me—I’ve been gone for you since the first day. And now you’re here, letting me touch you… letting me love you…” His voice broke on the last word. A single tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away—he just leaned down and pressed his forehead to your stomach, breathing you in like you were oxygen.

Your breath caught at the trembling confession—his words sinking into you like warm honey, sweet and heavy and almost too much to hold. “Jake…” you whispered, voice soft and thick with emotion. “Look at me.”

He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes—his own wide, glassy, shining with something so vulnerable it stole your breath.

“I love you too,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, but steady. “I’ve loved you since the first time you smiled at me across the mess hall and tripped over your own feet. I’ve loved you every time you played with the kids and made them laugh, every time you looked at me like I was the only person in the world. I’ve loved you through every single one of your shy glances and every time you blushed so hard I thought you’d catch fire.”

A fresh tear slipped down his cheek. He let out a shaky, disbelieving laugh—half sob, half joy—and turned his head to press a desperate kiss to your palm.

“Baby…” he choked out, voice wrecked. “You… you love me too?”

You nodded, smiling through the tears gathering in your own eyes.

“I love you so much it hurts,” you whispered. “So please… don’t hold back anymore. I want everything. I want you.”

“You mean it?” he whispered, voice barely audible, cracking on every syllable. “You really want… everything? All of me?”

“I mean it,” you breathed. “I want all of you, Jake. No holding back. No hesitation. I want you to take me—love me—the way you’ve been dying to. I’m yours. Completely.”

The last thread of restraint snapped. 

He trailed kisses down the crease where thigh met hip, then lower still, until his lips found the plush, sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He kissed one thigh, then the other, alternating back and forth like he couldn’t decide which one deserved more attention.

Every time his mouth moved, his breath ghosted over your soaked panties, making you squirm. You moaned softly—fingers tightening in his hair—and the sound made him whimper against your skin, hips twitching helplessly against the mattress.

“Jake…” you breathed, voice trembling. “Please…”

He pulled back just enough to look.

And stare.

“Look at this pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, voice raw with devotion. “So wet she’s crying for me…I’ve dreamed about this—imagining.. And now you’re letting me see it… letting me have it…”

You couldn’t take it anymore. The ache between your legs was unbearable—every word, every hot exhale making you clench around nothing.

“Jake…” you breathed, voice trembling, hips lifting just a fraction off the mattress in desperate search of contact. “Please… please, just taste me. I need your mouth on me—now.”

That single, pleading “please” snapped something inside him. With a low, guttural groan that sounded like it had been torn from his soul, Jake smashed his face against you.

No hesitation.

His nose pressed right to your clit through the lace—inhaling deeply, greedily, like he was trying to drown himself in your scent. A long, broken moan vibrated straight through your core as he breathed you in—once, twice, three times—his whole body shuddering with how good you smelled.

Then he opened his mouth.

Wide.

And dragged his tongue flat and hard up the entire length of your soaked slit through the lace. The rough texture of the fabric dragged deliciously over your swollen folds, catching on your clit with every pass. He licked again—broader this time—tongue pressing firm and hot, soaking the already drenched lace even more with his spit.

“God—taste so fucking good,” he mumbled between licks, voice wrecked. “Even through this… so sweet… so wet… can’t get enough—never gonna get enough—” His hands gripped your thighs tighter—fingers digging in possessively—as he smushed his face deeper, cheeks flushed and slick with your arousal, chin glistening. 

“Tell me you love it,” he pleaded against you, words muffled and frantic. “Tell me my tongue feels good—please, baby—tell me I’m making you feel so fucking good—”

“Yes—fuck, Jake—your mouth is perfect—don’t stop—please don’t stop tasting me like that—”

Jake was utterly gone.

“Jake—please—” you gasped, voice breaking on a whine. “Please… take them off. I need your tongue on me—properly. Need to feel you—please, puppy, I can’t take it anymore—”

“Anything,” he rasped, voice trembling. “Anything for you.” With shaking hands, he hooked his fingers under the soaked lace at your hips and tugged the fabric down your thighs. 

You were spread open for him—glistening, swollen, blooming like the prettiest flower he’d ever seen. Your folds were dark and slick, clit throbbing visibly, entrance fluttering with every shaky breath you took. A fresh trickle of arousal slipped free, sliding down toward your ass, and Jake made a low, devastated sound in the back of his throat before he dove back in—face-first, no hesitation, no lace in the way this time.

The first real taste of you made him groan so deep it vibrated through your entire body. His hands gripped your thighs harder, spreading you wider, holding you open as he buried his face between your legs like he never wanted to leave.

And god almighty—he never wanted to.

His mouth worked messily, greedily, with no trace of restraint left. Long, sloppy drags of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, lapping up every drop of your arousal like he was dying of thirst and you were the only thing that could save him. 

The sounds were filthy.

Wet. Obscene. Disgusting in the best possible way.

Every time his tongue plunged back into your dripping entrance, there was a lewd shlick—the slick glide of his tongue through your folds, followed by the wet slurp as he sucked your arousal straight from the source. 

Then his hands moved. He slid both palms up the backs of your thighs, fingers hooking under the soft, swollen lips of your pussy before he pulled them apart—spreading you wide open, exposing every inch of your glistening, fluttering core to his hungry gaze.

He didn’t even give you time to feel shy. He dove right back in—face buried even deeper now, tongue thrusting inside you, fucking you while his nose ground against your clit. 

“Jake—oh god—Jake—yes—right there—fuck—”

Your hips rolled shamelessly against his face, grinding your clit against his tongue, smearing your arousal across his cheeks, his chin, his nose. He was soaked—face glistening, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut in pure ecstasy as he devoured you like a man who’d never eat again.

Then—while his lips were sealed tight around your throbbing bud, tongue flicking fast and relentless—two of his fingers slid down through your dripping folds.

He teased your entrance first—slow circles around the fluttering hole, collecting your slick before pressing the tips inside. Just the first knuckles—enough to make you gasp—then deeper, until both long fingers were buried to the hilt.

The moment Jake’s fingers sank fully inside you—long, thick, curling perfectly against that spongy spot deep within—your whole body seized.

A sharp, broken shout tore from your throat—“Jake—oh fuck—!”—and then you were coming.

Hard.

Your walls clamped down around his fingers like a vice, fluttering and pulsing in violent, rhythmic waves as the orgasm ripped through you. Slick gushed around his knuckles, coating his hand, dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. Your back arched off the mattress, fingers yanking at his hair so tightly you were sure it hurt, but Jake only moaned louder.

When the first brutal wave finally began to ebb, Jake pulled back from your clit with a loud, wet pop—lips swollen and shiny, chin dripping with your release. He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He crawled up your body in one fluid motion as he settled between your legs. His fingers never left you—still buried deep, still curling lazily inside your fluttering walls.

Then his mouth crashed down on yours.

You moaned helplessly into him, arms wrapping around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, arms wound tight around his neck, nails raking down the backs of his shoulders, leaving stinging little trails he’d feel tomorrow and love. 

Minutes passed like that. Maybe longer. Time dissolved into nothing but heat, wet sounds, and the feeling of Jake consuming you from the inside out.

Then—reluctantly—he pulled his mouth off yours. A thick string of spit connected your bottom lip to his for a heartbeat before it snapped. 

“Need to taste you again,” he rasped, voice ruined. “Everywhere.”

And then he started moving down. Open-mouthed kisses. Hot. Hungry. Worshipful.

He kissed the corner of your mouth to your jaw, down the column of your throat, sucking a fresh bruise into the skin he’d already marked earlier. Lower. Lower. His mouth found your tits again—immediately latching onto one nipple. At the exact same moment, you felt pressure at your entrance.

A third finger.

He didn’t force it—just nudged, teasing the slick, fluttering rim, letting your own arousal coat the tip while he waited.

You answered instantly.

Your thighs fell open wider, hips canting up in a silent, desperate plea. 

He moaned against your breast—vibrating the sensitive bud—before he started pushing in.

Slow.

So fucking slow.

Just the tip at first, letting you feel the stretch, then deeper, until all three thick fingers were buried inside you, spreading you open, filling you so perfectly your eyes rolled back. Your walls fluttered wildly around the new fullness, clenching and releasing as he curled them gently, stroking that perfect spot over and over.

The stretch of his three thick fingers inside you was overwhelming—perfect, burning, delicious. They filled you so completely, knuckles brushing every sensitive wall as he pushed in slow and deep, then dragged back out with agonizing patience before thrusting in again. Every time he curled them—hooking right against that spongy, electric spot—your walls fluttered wildly around him, clenching down like you were trying to keep him buried forever.

“Jake—oh god—fuck—” Your fingers tightened in his hair, yanking him closer to your chest while your other hand cradled his face like he was something precious.

Jake never wanted to let go.

His mouth stayed latched to your breast—specifically that one perfect, swollen nipple. Every few seconds, he let his teeth graze—just a gentle scrape, a soft chew—nothing hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your whole body jolt. He’d nibble lightly at the tender flesh around the areola, then soothe it immediately with his tongue, sucking the nipple back between his lips like he couldn’t bear to be parted from it even for a second.

He had always had a thing for keeping something in his mouth.

A pacifier when he was little. A pen cap when he was nervous. His own fingers when he was deep in thought.

And now—you.

The taste of your skin, the weight of you on his tongue, the way you filled his mouth so perfectly—it was everything he’d ever craved without knowing it. 

You didn’t hate it.

Not even close.

Your reactions told him everything.

Every time his teeth grazed, you gasped—sharp and needy—hips bucking up against his thrusting fingers. Every time he chewed softly, nibbling like he was savoring the softest candy, your thighs trembled and squeezed around his head, trapping him there. Your fingers in his hair tightened to the point of pain, yanking him closer, pressing his face deeper into your chest like you were trying to smother him with your tits—and god, he would have happily died like that.

His mouth stayed locked on that one perfect breast—the right one, the one that seemed to fit his lips like it was made for him. It throbbed under his attention—dark, puffy, flushed an angry pink. It pulsed against his tongue with every heartbeat, swollen and hypersensitive, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight between your legs every time he drew it deeper.

“Jake—fuck—yes—don’t stop—suck harder—please—”

The desperate whines spilling from your lips, the way your body arched and shook, the way you clung to him like you’d die if he pulled away—it was too much.

Jake felt it—the perfect moment.

With a low, muffled groan against your breast, he shifted his hand. Three fingers were already stretching you wide—curling deep, stroking that perfect spot over and over—but he needed more.

You needed more.

He was big. Far too much to take without preparation. And he refused to hurt you. He wanted you ready. Desperate. Begging for every inch when the time came.

He kept his mouth working to keep you distracted, keep you lost in the pleasure. At the same time, a fourth finger nudged at your entrance—sliding through the dripping slick, teasing the already stretched rim before he pushed in.

The stretch was intense—burning, overwhelming. Four thick fingers spreading you wide, filling you so completely your walls fluttered wildly around him, clenching and releasing in helpless little spasms. He curled them gently—stroking that perfect spot in slow, deep drags—while his thumb found your clit and started rubbing circles.

You were a mess of high, needy sounds—whimpers turning into broken sobs, hips rolling up to meet every thrust, fingers yanking at his hair so hard it had to sting. Your other hand cradled his cheek, thumb stroking over the flushed skin as you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Only when your pleas turned truly desperate—when you were practically sobbing his name, begging for his cock, hips bucking wildly against his hand—did he finally decide you were ready.

With a reluctant whine he pulled his mouth off your breast—leaving the nipple dark, swollen, glistening with spit and throbbing in the cool air. 

Then agonizingly, he slipped his fingers out of you.

A thick, wet string of your arousal connected his knuckles to your entrance before it snapped, dripping down onto the sheets. Jake stared at the mess he’d made—your pussy gaping slightly, fluttering around the sudden emptiness, slick coating his hand from wrist to fingertips—and groaned like a dying man. 

Without hesitation, he brought his dripping fingers to his mouth. He sucked them in deep—eyes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing as he licked every trace of you off his skin. 

You watched him—breathless, mesmerized—watching the way his tongue swirled around his knuckles, the way his eyes rolled back a little, the way he drooled over his own hand like he couldn’t get enough.

Then his gaze flicked back to you—dark, hungry, adoring. He pulled his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop and brought them to your lips instead. “Open,” he whispered, voice trembling.

You did—immediately—parting your lips so he could slide his slick fingers inside. You tasted yourself on his skin and sucked eagerly.

Jake’s breath hitched. His eyes dropped lower—to your open, dripping pussy, folds swollen and glistening, entrance fluttering like it was begging for him. And god—it was begging. Winking at him. Opening for him. Practically pleading for his cock.

Jake groaned and pulled his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. He wrapped his hand around the thick base of his cock—veins pulsing visibly under the flushed skin, head swollen dark and leaking a steady stream of precome that dripped in slow, silvery strands. He lined himself up, the fat, blunt tip kissing your entrance—hot, slick, pressing insistently against your fluttering hole.

He watched—completely entranced, eyes dark and glassy—as he started to push in.

The first inch was already a challenge.

Your pussy opened for him, stretching around the impossibly thick head like it was being forced to learn how to accommodate something so massive. Your walls fluttered wildly, clenching and spasming around the intrusion, trying to adjust to the sheer girth that was splitting you open. It felt like he was carving out new space inside you, reshaping you to fit only him.

You couldn’t breathe properly. Every shallow inhale came out as a shaky whimper. Your thighs trembled around his hips, muscles jumping with the effort of staying open for him.

“Fuck—baby—” Jake choked out, voice wrecked and trembling. “You’re so tight… so fucking tight… trying to take me… god, look at you—trying so hard to let me in…” The head popped past your entrance with a soft, wet sound, and your walls clamped down hard around him in reflex. A sharp, high gasp tore from your throat—half pleasure, half overwhelmed sting—as the thick ridge stretched you wider than you’d ever been stretched before.

“Jake—oh god—” you whimpered, voice cracking. “You’re so big—too big—it’s—fuck—it’s stretching me so much—”

“Shh—shh, baby—I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice shaking with both restraint and awe. “You’re doing so good… taking me so perfectly… just breathe for me… let me in… let your pretty pussy open up for my cock…” He rocked forward another fraction—barely an inch—and you cried out softly, nails digging into his shoulders. The stretch burned hotter now, your walls fluttering desperately around the thick intrusion, trying to accommodate the impossible girth. You could feel every vein, every ridge as he sank deeper—slow, torturous, filling you so completely it felt like he was reaching places inside you no one else had ever touched.

“Fuck—look at that,” he groaned, eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Look how your little pussy is stretching around me… taking my fat cock… so greedy for it… so wet and hot… god, you’re perfect… made for me…”

Another inch.

Your back arched, a broken moan spilling from your lips as the head nudged against that deep, sensitive spot inside you. The pressure was everywhere—filling you so full it felt like he was rearranging your insides, claiming every inch of space as his. “Jake—please—” you sobbed, voice trembling. “It’s so much—so deep—stretching me so wide—feels like you’re gonna break me—”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The sound of his voice pushed you right to the edge of sanity. With a soft, needy whimper you slid both hands up to cradle his face—thumbs brushing the sharp line of his jaw—and pulled him down into a fierce, hungry kiss. The moment your lips crashed against his—fierce, hungry, desperate—Jake’s entire world narrowed to that single point of contact and his restraint shattered like glass.

His hips snapped forward in one brutal, perfect thrust.

The last thick inches drove into you hard—burying him to the hilt so deep the fat, swollen head slammed right up against your cervix with a force that punched the air from your lungs.

You screamed into his mouth—high, startled, overwhelmed—back bowing off the mattress, thighs clamping around his hips like a vice. 

“You took me—” he rasped, voice cracking with awe and disbelief. “All of me—all of me—god, look at you… stretching around my cock like you were fucking made for it… so tight… so hot… I can feel you squeezing me—milking me—fuck, baby, you’re perfect… so fucking perfect…” The overwhelming heat, the tight, rippling grip of your walls clenching around every pulsing inch of him—it was too much. Too perfect. Too everything.

“You’re squeezing me so good… feels like you’re trying to keep me inside forever…” He started rocking into you—shallow thrusts. Just a few inches back and forth, never pulling out too far, never giving you a second without feeling him. The wet, filthy schlick of him moving inside you filled the room, mixing with your shared breaths and soft moans.

Then—he made the mistake of looking down. He only meant to admire your tits but his gaze drifted lower.

And he froze.

There—right above your pubic bone—was the unmistakable bulge of his cock. Every slow rock made it shift—his thick head pressing up against your lower belly, the outline visible under your skin like a brand.

Jake’s breath punched out of him in a strangled groan.

“Oh… fuck…”

Something primal snapped inside him. With no warning—no hesitation—he pulled all the way out. Until only the fat, leaking tip remained nestled against your entrance.

Your walls clenched around nothing—aching at the sudden emptiness—and you whimpered, hips lifting instinctively.

Then he thrusted in. Hard. Deep. One brutal stroke that buried him to the hilt again.

Your back arched off the mattress with a raw, broken scream “Jahke—!”

His mouth found your throat—teeth grazing, then biting down just hard enough to mark—while his hands flew to your waist, gripping your waist like handles, fingers digging into the soft flesh, using the leverage to yank you back onto his cock every time he pulled out. “Look at how deep I am inside you… look at this fucking bulge—see it? See how my cock stretches your little belly every time I bottom out? That’s me. That’s my dick rearranging your insides, making you feel me in places no one else ever has.”

He made sure you felt every thick, veiny inch drag against your fluttering walls before slamming back in with a wet smack. “Sunghoon could never fuck you like this,” he snarled, the name dripping with venom. “He could never fill you this deep. Never make you scream like that. Never leave you shaking and dripping and marked the way I do. He’d be done in two minutes—average little cock barely touching the sides—while I’m here splitting you open, ruining this perfect pussy for anyone else.” Another brutal thrust—hard enough to make your tits bounce, hard enough to punch a raw cry from your throat. “He’d never make you cry from how good it feels,” Jake continued, voice shaking with triumph. “Never make you come so hard your legs stop working. Never pump you so full of cum that it leaks out for hours. He’d never look down and see his own cock bulging in your stomach like this—like I’m branding you from the inside. You’re mine. This pussy? This body? All mine. Not his. Never his.”

He leaned back just enough to look down—eyes locked on the obscene outline of his cock moving under your skin—watching it shift with every deep, claiming thrust. “That’s me. That’s how much bigger I am. That’s how much better I fuck you. He could never do this. Could never make you take every fucking inch like you were born for it. Could never make you sob my name while your tight little cunt milks me dry.” He slammed in again—harder—making the bulge rise sharply under your lower belly. “Say it,” he demanded, voice low and dangerous, teeth grazing your earlobe. “Tell me who owns this pussy. Tell me who fucks you like this. Tell me who you belong to.”

You could barely speak—voice wrecked, breath punched out of you with every thrust—but the words spilled out anyway, broken and desperate. “You—you, Jake—only you—fuck—only your cock—only yours—”

He groaned—deep, guttural, victorious—and fucked you even harder, hands bruising your waist, hips snapping forward like he was trying to imprint himself into your very core. “Damn right,” he snarled against your throat. 

Then—without warning—Jake’s hands slid under your ass. Strong arms flexed under your thighs, biceps bulging as he lifted you clean off the mattress in one smooth, powerful motion. The world tilted for a heartbeat—your back leaving the sheets, your weight shifting entirely onto him—as he pulled you up and settled you firmly in his lap, legs draped over his hips like you belonged there. 

You sank down hard—gravity and his guiding hands forcing you onto his cock in one brutal, breathtaking drop. The thick length speared into you deeper than before, the angle hitting new, untouched places inside you that made your vision blur and a raw, high-pitched cry rip from your throat. He was too big, too deep, too everything.

He set a punishing rhythm immediately: slow on the upstroke, lifting you with those powerful hands until only the thick, flared head remained nestled just inside your entrance, then he yanked you back down, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke that punched the air from your lungs. Your ass met his thighs with a sharp, wet slap that echoed through the cabin, followed immediately by your broken, high-pitched moan as he filled you completely once more.

Again. And again.

Each time he yanked you down, your breasts bounced heavily—full, flushed, marked with the dark red-purple blooms of his bites and the faint indents of his teeth. The soft, bruised flesh jiggled with every rough drop, practically begging for attention.

And Jake?

Jake needed his mouth busy.

Always had.

The sight of your tits bouncing right in front of his face—close enough to taste—was the most tempting invitation he’d ever been given.

With a low, broken groan that sounded more animal than human, Jake surged forward.

His mouth crashed onto your right breast like a starving man finally allowed to feast. No preamble, no teasing—he simply opened wide and took the swollen, dark nipple deep into the wet heat of his mouth, lips sealing tight around the areola as he sucked hard enough to hollow his cheeks. 

His free hand slid up cupping the underside of your other breast. He lifted it, squeezed, then slapped—hard enough to make the flesh jiggle. The sharp smack echoed through the room, followed immediately by your high, broken moan. He watched, utterly fascinated as the red bloom of his handprint bloomed across the pale skin. Another slap—harder—watching the flesh move in hypnotic ripples. 

“Jahykeee—” The sound came out high and needy, open-mouthed, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your head fell back. You couldn’t form full sentences anymore—just his name, over and over, moaned like a prayer.

Everything was wet.

Disgusting.

Perfect.

You were babbling now—incoherent, desperate little sounds that barely formed words. “gonna come—oh god—”

A few more brutal thrusts—deep, punishing, hips snapping up to meet every downward slam—and Jake broke. With a raw groan that vibrated against your breast, he buried himself to the hilt one last time and came. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded deep inside you—pulse after violent pulse—filling you so full you could feel every spurt painting your walls. 

The sheer volume of his cum filled you so completely you could feel it sloshing gently with every tiny shift of your hips, warm and heavy, some of it already leaking out around the base of his cock in slow, creamy rivulets that dripped down his balls and onto the sheets beneath you. Neither of you moved to pull apart. 

You didn’t want to. He didn’t want to.

His mouth stayed latched to your swollen nipple—nursing with slow, lazy pulls that made the tender bud throb against his tongue. Every few seconds he’d give a tiny, gentle suck—like he was drawing comfort, drawing life from you. He gnawed softly at the areola, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you shiver, then returned to nursing with quiet, contented hums vibrating against your chest.

You let your own hands drift up—fingers threading gently through his damp, messy hair. You smoothed it back from his forehead, petting him slowly, lovingly, nails scratching lightly over his scalp in soothing little circles.

“Good boy,” you whispered, voice soft and wrecked. “Filled me up so perfectly…”

That made him melt.

A high, broken whimper escaped around your nipple as his hips gave a tiny, helpless roll beneath you. The motion dragged his still-hard cock against your sensitive walls, stirring the thick load he’d just pumped deep inside you.

You gasped—sweet and soft—at the sensation.

“Good boy… look at you—still so hard for me… still filling me up…”

Jake’s entire body trembled against yours—shaking like a leaf in a storm—his face buried so deep between your breasts that his nose pressed into the soft valley, inhaling you like you were the only air he needed. His arms wrapped around your waist tighter, hands splayed wide across your lower back, fingers digging in just enough to keep you locked against him. He wasn’t thrusting anymore—not really. He was just… moving. Like his body couldn’t bear to be still inside you. 

“Please say it again… please…” He sounded so small, so utterly wrecked. The filthy boy who’d just fucked you senseless was gone. In his place was this trembling, desperate thing. 

You cradled his face gently between your hands, thumbs brushing over the flushed apples of his cheeks, feeling the way he trembled under your touch. His eyes—big, glassy, and completely lost—lifted to meet yours, pupils blown wide with need and adoration.

“My sweet puppy,” you murmured, voice soft but firm, lips brushing his forehead. “You’ve been so good for me. You can fuck me again, baby. You have my permission, puppy. Take what you need.”

A broken, grateful whine tore from his throat—high and shaky—like the words alone were enough to unravel him completely.  “Thank you—thank you—” he choked out, voice cracking as he nuzzled into your neck for a heartbeat before lifting his head.

You tilted his chin up with gentle fingers, guiding his mouth to yours.

The kiss started soft—slow, deep, tender. You led at first, tongue sliding against his in lazy, loving strokes, swallowing the little whimpers he let out every time you nipped his bottom lip. He melted into it—letting you take control, letting you set the pace—hands trembling where they gripped your hips like he was afraid to move without your say-so.

But Jake was needy.

Desperate.

And he could only hold back for so long.

A low moan slipped out against your mouth as his tongue plunged deeper—still following your rhythm at first, but growing hungrier, chasing every slide of your tongue like you were pure nectar he’d die without. You could taste the salt of his tears, the faint musk of your earlier release still lingering on his tongue, and it made you moan softly into him.

You started moving—lifting yourself up his thick length with agonizing slowness, letting him feel every dragging inch as your walls clung to him, fluttering and squeezing around his girth. When only the swollen head remained inside you—stretching your entrance wide—you sank back down in one smooth, deep drop, taking him to the hilt again.

Jake’s entire body jerked beneath you, and his hands on your hips tightened, fingers digging in just enough to help guide your rhythm, lifting you just enough on the upstroke, then guiding you back down with gentle pressure, making sure you took every inch. But he didn’t thrust up into you. He didn’t dare. He just… assisted. Letting you use him exactly how you wanted.

Eventually you could feel it building again—slow, hot, inevitable. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably around his waist, breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the pressure crested. “Jake.. gonna—gonna come—” you sobbed, voice breaking into a high, desperate whine. 

The second the words left your lips, something shifted in him. His hands—previously only guiding, tightened. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave fresh marks over the old ones, and he took over.

No more teasing rhythm. No more letting you lead.

He surged upward driving his cock deep inside you in one smooth, punishing stroke that punched the air from your lungs. Your back arched violently, a raw cry tearing from your throat as he bottomed out again. One hand slid up your side cupping the heavy curve of your breast, thumb flicking over the swollen, spit-slick nipple before pinching it hard enough to make you gasp. His other hand slipped between your bodies—fingers finding your clit immediately, rubbing fast little circles, then pinching the sensitive bud between his fingers, rolling it gently before flicking it hard enough to make your hips buck. 

“Gonna come so pretty for me, aren’t you? Gonna cream all over my dick while I fill you up again—”

You shattered.

Your orgasm crashed through you like a wave—walls clamping down around his cock in violent, fluttering spasms. Your thighs squeezed his hips so tight it hurt, toes curling, vision whiting out at the edges. 

You went limp beneath him, your arms flopped weakly to your sides, legs splayed open around him, chest heaving with ragged breaths. You could barely think, barely move—just lay there, wrecked and panting, letting him use you as he chased his own release. And with a few more desperate grinds, he broke.

With a muffled cry, he came again—hot, thick ropes flooding deep inside you, mixing with the first load until you felt impossibly fuller.

You both stayed like that—locked together, trembling—for long minutes. Jake’s hands roamed lazily over your body, petting your sides, squeezing your ass, like he was memorizing every curve.

Then slowly—ever so slowly—he shifted, with a soft, reluctant whine—he started to pull out.

You winced at the feeling—sharp and empty—as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls. A gush of his cum followed immediately, spilling out of you in a warm, thick flood that ran down your ass and pooled on the sheets. The sudden loss made you whimper, thighs twitching.

But before you could even process it— Jake’s mouth was there, strong hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wide—and buried his face in your pussy.

You shouted—high and startled—“Jake—fuck—too much—!”

Overstimulation hit like lightning—your hips bucking up instinctively, hands flying to his hair to push him away as his tongue dragged flat up your leaking slit.

But Jake didn’t budge.

His tongue pushed past your swollen folds, lapping at the creamy mess he’d left inside you: his thick cum mixed with your slick, warm and salty-sweet on his tongue. He scooped every drop with broad swirls—moaning low against your pussy like the flavor was pure ecstasy.

“Gotta clean you,” he mumbled against your folds, voice thick and wrecked, lips moving wetly as he spoke. “Gotta taste us…”

He ate you thoroughly—relentlessly—tongue curling inside you, swallowing with a low hum—throat working visibly, nose nudging your swollen clit with every deep thrust of his tongue.

You tried to push at his head, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed both of your wrists in one large hand and pinned them to your stomach—holding you down, while his other hand clamped harder on your thigh, thumb stroking the soft inner skin in slow, soothing circles.

“Stay still, baby,” he rasped between licks, voice muffled and dripping with need. “Let me clean you… I’m not done yet… not even close…”

He kept going—tongue plunging deep, then dragging up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips with gentle insistence. He nursed on it softly—sucking, licking, humming in quiet bliss.

He kept going until your pussy was clean, glistening only with his spit now, fluttering weakly around nothing.

He gave one last long, savoring lick from your entrance all the way up to your clit—collecting the final traces—before pulling back with a low, wrecked groan.

He crawled up your body until his face hovered over yours.

Then he kissed you.

Deep. Slow. Filthy.

His skin was flushed and sweat-slicked, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, but his eyes never left yours—dark, glassy, shining with something so raw and tender it made your heart stutter.

When his face finally hovered over yours—close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the salt and musk of sex clinging to his skin—he paused for one heartbeat, just breathing you in.

Then he kissed you.

His mouth sealed over yours like he was trying to crawl inside you all over again—lips soft but insistent, parting yours with a gentle nudge before his tongue slid in, hot and thick and unhurried. The first taste hit you immediately: the heady, salty-sweet mix of both of you—his cum still lingering on his tongue, thick and musky, blended with the slick tang of your own arousal that coated every inch of his mouth. It was obscene, intimate, utterly filthy in the most perfect way—evidence of everything he’d done to you, everything you’d let him do, still warm and fresh on his tongue.

You moaned into the kiss and he groaned back—low and wrecked—swallowing the sound like it was nectar, his tongue sliding deeper, curling around yours in slow, lazy drags that made your toes curl against the sheets.

The kiss was sloppy, unashamed—filthy in the best way.

He shifted slightly—weight settling more firmly over you—and one of his hands slid down your body with intent. Rough fingertips trailed over your ribs, your stomach, until they reached the space between your thighs. He cupped your pussy in one big palm—hot, calloused, fingers splaying wide to cover every inch of your swollen, sensitive folds.

Your thighs clamped around his hand instantly—reflexive—trapping him there. The wet heat of you was obscene— still swollen and tender from everything he’d done to you.

Without breaking the kiss, his ring and middle fingers slipped inside you easily—two thick digits sinking deep into your heat with a soft, wet schlick. Your walls fluttered around them immediately, still sensitive, still clenching like they were trying to pull him deeper. He curled them slowly—hooking against that perfect spot inside you—while his thumb brushed feather-light over your swollen clit, circling once, twice, then pressing down just enough to make your hips buck. Your own hand came down to cover his—fingers wrapping around his wrist, not to stop him, but hold on, feeling the flex of his tendons, the way his forearm tensed every time he pushed deeper.

He worshipped you like this for long, unhurried minutes—fingers massaging slow and deep, thumb circling your clit with perfect patience, mouth moving against yours in lazy, loving strokes.  You could feel yourself climbing again, pleasure coiling tight and hot in your belly despite the oversensitivity. But Jake felt it too. He felt the way your walls started fluttering faster, the way your breath hitched against his mouth, the way your fingers tightened around his wrist.

With a soft, reluctant groan he finally eased his fingers out carefully, curling them one last time against that perfect spot before sliding free. 

He broke the kiss just enough to press his forehead to yours—breathing hard, eyes glassy and dark with adoration.

“Don’t wanna push you too far, baby,” he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling. “You’ve already given me everything.” He pressed one last, soft kiss to your swollen lips—gentle this time, then collapsed beside you and immediately pulled you into his arms, chest to chest, legs tangling, his face immediately burying in the crook of your neck. His breath came in shaky, happy little puffs against your skin as he nuzzled closer, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting possessively on your hip.

“Mine…” he whispered, voice hoarse and drowsy, lips brushing your pulse point. “All mine…”

He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your throat—then another, and another—like he couldn’t stop tasting you even now.

You hummed—soft, content—fingers threading gently through his damp hair, petting him slowly while your other arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close.

Completely, blissfully content.

The next morning dawned bright and mercilessly hot, the kind of summer day that turned the entire camp into a shimmering haze. You stood in front of the tiny mirror in your cabin, trying—and failing—to cover the evidence of last night.

The marks were everywhere.

Dark, blooming hickeys and faint bite marks painted your throat like a collar of bruises. A constellation of red-purple blooms trailed down your collarbone, over the tops of your breasts, and disappeared beneath the neckline of your top. Your inner thighs were mottled with finger-shaped imprints and suction marks, and your hips bore the faint outline of Jake’s hands where he’d gripped you like he never wanted to let go.

You tried a scarf—ridiculous in this heat. A high-collared shirt—immediately discarded when sweat beaded on your neck within minutes. Long sleeves? Impossible. The sun was already brutal, and the thought of layers made you feel like you were suffocating.

So you gave up.

You tugged on your usual camp uniform and stepped outside. Immediately, the heat pressed against your skin like a living thing, but more noticeable than the temperature was the way your body moved.

You were limping.

Not dramatically, but enough that every step sent a dull, delicious ache radiating from between your thighs. Your pussy still felt swollen, tender, stretched in a way that made you clench involuntarily every time you shifted your weight. And your skin—god, your skin—glowed. That unmistakable post-sex flush clung to you, making you look like you’d been thoroughly, repeatedly ravished.

The female counselors noticed first.

They were gathered near the mess hall, sipping lukewarm coffee, when you limped past.

“Holy shit,” Minji—choked on her drink, eyes widening as she took in the full display. “Girl, what the hell happened to you? Did you get attacked by a vacuum cleaner?”

Chaeryeong—leaned forward, grinning wickedly. “No, no, look at those marks. That’s not a vacuum. That’s a whole-ass man. Who fucked you so good you look like you got mauled?”

You laughed—hoarse, a little breathless—and tried to shrug it off, but the movement pulled at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, making you wince. 

“Someone got carried away,” you said, voice still a little raspy from all the moaning and screaming the night before.

“Carried away?” Yuna echoed, eyes sparkling. “Babe, that’s not carried away. That’s claimed. Look at your thighs—those are handprints. Plural. Who is this man and does he have a brother?”

The male counselors, meanwhile, were noticeably quieter.

They glanced over—then quickly looked away. Some flushed red. Others suddenly found the ground very interesting. Sunghoon, in particular, was standing near the canoe rack pretending to check ropes, but his ears were bright pink and he refused to meet anyone’s eyes.

The kids were… less subtle.

A group of eight-year-olds ran up while you were trying to help set up the morning activity board. 

“Whoa, Miss, what happened to your neck?” one little girl asked, pointing openly at the dark hickey just below your jaw.

Another boy gasped dramatically. “Did a bear get you? Or a tiger? You look like you got mauled by an animal!”

You crouched down—wincing slightly—and ruffled his hair. “No bears, promise,” you said with a grin. “Just… a very enthusiastic mosquito.”

The kids blinked, clearly unconvinced, but ran off to tell their friends about the “mosquito attack.”

The adult staff—counselors and the camp director included—mostly just stared at you like you’d grown a second head. A few raised eyebrows. A couple of knowing smirks. One of the older female staff members muttered something about “kids these days” while pointedly looking anywhere but at your neck.

But none of it really bothered you. Not when Jake was trailing behind you like a lovesick shadow.

He hadn’t let you out of his sight since breakfast—still a little dazed, still a little sore, still glowing. He carried your water bottle without being asked. He hovered while you handed out activity schedules. He practically vibrated with pride every time someone’s eyes flicked to your marks and then to him.

And when Sunghoon tried to approach you near the craft table—casual, friendly, like nothing had changed—Jake was suddenly right there, sliding an arm around your waist, chin resting possessively on your shoulder.

Sunghoon blinked, glanced at the obvious handprints on your hips peeking out from under your top, then at Jake’s smug little smile—and backed off without another word.

Jake practically preened.

By evening, the bonfire crackled high, kids roasting marshmallows, counselors scattered on logs and blankets. Jake was sitting on one of the bigger logs, legs spread, looking every inch the smug, satisfied man who’d finally gotten his prize.

You didn’t even hesitate.

You walked straight over—limp still noticeable—and plopped right into his lap. His arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling your back flush against his chest. His chin hooked over your shoulder, nose brushing your neck right over one of the darkest hickeys.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured against your skin, voice low and content, just for you.

Kids giggled and whispered. Counselors exchanged looks—some amused, some scandalized, most just resigned. Sunghoon stared into the flames like they’d personally offended him.

Jake didn’t care.

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck—right over a particularly dark mark—and sighed like the happiest man alive.

You were perfectly content right where you were: settled sideways across Jake’s lap, back resting against his chest, legs draped lazily over one of his thighs. His arms were wrapped around your waist like he was afraid someone might try to steal you away if he let go for even a second. His chin rested on your shoulder, nose occasionally brushing the side of your neck where the darkest, most obvious hickey bloomed like a bruise-colored flower.

You weren’t doing anything.

Just sitting.

Breathing.

Existing in his arms.

And that was more than enough. Because beneath you Jake started to harden.

You felt it happen in stages: the first subtle thickening against the underside of your thigh, the way his cock twitched once, then again, as if waking up. Then the gradual swell, pressing insistently against your ass through the thin layers of your shorts and his. He shifted once—barely a movement, just trying to adjust—and the motion only made him harder, the thick ridge of him settling right between your cheeks.

A soft, involuntary groan slipped from his throat—barely audible over the fire, but you heard it. Felt it rumble against your back. You tilted your head just enough to whisper against the shell of his ear, voice low and teasing, lips brushing the sensitive skin.

“Getting hard just from me sitting on you, puppy?” you murmured, letting your breath ghost over his earlobe. “Poor thing… can’t even control yourself around me anymore, can you?”

Jake’s whole body jerked. “Baby—fuck—” he breathed against your neck, voice wrecked and trembling. “Don’t—don’t say that—please—I’m trying to be good—”

But he wasn’t being good.

Not at all.

His hips gave another tiny, helpless roll—grinding his aching length against you—just enough to make you feel every thick inch. His breath came in short, shaky pants against your throat, lips brushing the bruise he’d left there like he couldn’t help himself.

Across the fire, Heeseung was watching the whole thing with the stupidest, most shit-eating grin on his face.

When Jake’s eyes flicked up—wide, panicked, pleading—Heeseung just raised both thumbs in an exaggerated double-thumbs-up, wiggling his eyebrows like he was at a comedy show.

Really helping the situation.

Jake buried his face deeper into your neck with another pathetic whine, hips twitching again despite his best efforts to stay still. “I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna lose it right here if you keep talking like that…”

You only smiled—slow, wicked—and shifted just enough to press your ass down a little harder against his straining cock.

“Shhh,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear again. “Be good for me, puppy. Or everyone’s gonna know exactly what you’re thinking about right now.”

Jake’s only answer was a low groan, broken, and completely wrecked.

a/n: i wrote most of this while at work. so sorry its shit.

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[jaehyp]

𝖫𝖤𝖲𝖲𝖮𝖭𝖲 ─ 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗋𝗄.

!! pairing: brothers bsf niki x inexperienced bratty fem. reader

!! synopsis: niki is your brother's best friend. off limits. but he can't stay away, and neither can you, especially after you see the bold tattoo on his lower hip. he says bad girls don't get what they want. but some rules are meant to be broken, and some marks are meant to be replaced.

!! warnings: smut (mdni), dom niki, sub/bratty reader, oral (m. receiving), fingering, pet names + dirty talk, first time, spanking, slight choking, i think im missing stuff so lmk!!

!! wc: 6.6k

!! a/n: lightly inspired by my smau, sry this took forever anyways his kiss tattoo is so hot so i hadda include it. enjoy!!

It's a Saturday afternoon when it happens.

Jake is out. Something about a game, something about Sunghoon's apartment, something you stopped listening to when Niki walked through the front door and said your brother left him the spare key.

"You're stuck with me," he'd said, tossing his jacket on the chair. "Hope you don't mind."

You’d shrugged, saying whatever came to mind just to avoid the way he was looking at you like he could see right through you, past every excuse, straight to the part you were trying to keep closed off.

You're in the kitchen now, reaching for a glass on the top shelf. You're wearing shorts. Short shorts. The kind that ride up when you move, the kind you should’ve changed before he got here.

Your shirt lifts as you stretch. A strip of skin exposed, the waistband of your shorts riding low on your hips. You can feel the cool air on your lower back, the warmth of the room, the-

"Need help?"

His voice is close. Closer than you expected. You jump, lose your grip on the glass, and it slips.

He catches it. His arm reaches over your head, his chest pressing against your back, his hand closing around the glass an inch before it hits the counter.

You freeze.

He doesn't move. His arm is still above you, his chest still against your back, his breath warm on your ear. You can smell him soap and something that's been in your head for years. Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure he can feel it.

"You okay?" His voice is low. Casual. Like this is normal. Like he doesn't notice the way your breathing has gone shallow or the way your body has gone very, very still.

You nod. You can't speak.

He doesn't move. His chest is warm against your back, his arm still stretched above you, his hand still holding the glass. You can feel the heat of him through your shirt, the steady beat of his heart, and the way your body is leaning back into him without your permission.

"You seem off," he says.

"I'm fine," you manage. Your voice comes out breathy, weak.

He laughs softly. His breath fans across your ear, and you shiver.

"Sure whatever floats your boat."

He moves. His arm lowers, his chest pulls away, his body retreats. He sets the glass on the counter beside you, and then he's gone. Walking back to the living room, dropping onto the couch and picking up the remote like nothing happened.

You stand there for a long moment, gripping the counter, trying to remember how to breathe.

It gets worse after that. Or maybe it's always been this bad, and you're just now letting yourself feel it.

He stays all afternoon. Jake texts that he's getting dinner with Sunghoon, won't be back for a few hours. You should be making excuses, finding somewhere else to be, putting distance between you.

Instead, you find yourself on the couch beside him, pretending to watch the movie he put on.

He's close. Not touching, but close enough that you can feel the heat of him. His arm is draped along the back of the couch, his fingers inches from your shoulder. Every few minutes, his thumb brushes your sleeve. Accidental, maybe. Maybe not.

You shift on the couch, pulling your legs up, adjusting. Your thigh brushes his. You freeze. He doesn't move.

You tell yourself it's nothing. You tell yourself you're imagining the way his hand has slid closer, the way his fingers are now resting on your shoulder, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your skin.

The movie plays. You don't watch it.

He shifts beside you. His hand slides down your arm, slow, his fingers trailing over your skin. Your breath catches. His hand reaches your wrist, pauses, wraps around it gently.

"You're very tense," he says.

You don't answer. You can't. Your whole body is focused on the place where his hand is wrapped around your wrist, his thumb pressing against your pulse, feeling how fast your heart is beating.

He pulls you gently. Just enough to turn you toward him. His face is close now, close enough to see the shine in his eyes, the moles scattered around his face, the slight curve of his lips.

"You know," he says, his voice low, "you've been doing this all day."

Your voice comes out strangled. "Doing what?"

"Bending over in front of me. Pressing against me. Looking at me like that." His thumb moves on your wrist, slow, deliberate. "You think I don't notice?"

Your face burns. "I wasn't-"

"You were." His other hand comes up, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your face toward his. "Matter of fact you've been doing it for years. And I've been trying to be good. Trying to be respectful. Trying not to want my best friend's sister."

Your heart stops. "Niki"

"Gosh i'm so fucking tired of pretending." His voice is rough. "I'm tired of watching you walk away. I'm tired of lying in your brother's guest room, thinking about you in the next room, wondering what you sound like when you-"

He stops. His jaw tightens. His eyes are dark, fixed on your mouth.

You should stop this. You should pull away. You should find an excuse, any excuse, to put distance between you.

But you don't.

Instead, your hand comes up, your fingers touching his jaw. His breath catches. His eyes close for a moment, and you feel the tension in his body, the effort it's taking for him to hold still.

"I'm not as fragile as you think," you whisper.

His eyes open. Something shifts in them, something dark and hungry.

"You sure about that?" His voice is barely a whisper. "Because once I start, I'm not going to stop."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. You can feel his breath on your lips, can see the way his eyes are fixed on your mouth, can feel the heat of his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

"I'm sure," you say.

He kisses you.

It's soft at first. Gentle. Like he's testing, like he's asking permission. His lips move against yours slow and careful, and your hand finds his hair, fingers tangling in the strands, and he makes a sound low in his throat that sends heat flooding through your body.

His hand slides up your arm, your shoulder, your neck. His fingers thread into your hair, tilting your head back, and the kiss deepens. His tongue slides against yours, and you taste him.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead against yours, his breath uneven.

"We should go to your room," he says. "Before your brother comes back."

You nod. You can't speak.

He takes your hand, pulls you off the couch, leads you down the hallway. Past the bathroom, past Jake's room, into yours.

You sat on the edge of his bed, Niki standing above, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. His presence was calm and steady yet everything was driving you crazy.

“Hey,” he murmured, reaching out to play with the strands of your hair. His fingers lingered on your cheek, a featherlight touch. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Okay?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump of both fear and excitement in your throat. “I want to,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended. “I just… I don’t really know what to do.”

A low, approving hum rumbled in his chest. “Princess, that's what I’m here for.” He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually so full of playful light, were now intense with a controlled passion. “You’re going to let me teach you, right? All you have to do is listen and trust me. Can you do that?”

“Yes teach me everything ki,” you breathed, the words a simple vow.

“Good girl.”

The praise washed over you, loosening the knot of anxiety in your stomach. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you opened for him with a small, surprised sigh. His hand angling your head to deepen the kiss, and you clung to his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt. He kissed you until you were dizzy, until you were leaning into him, a soft whine escaping your throat when he finally pulled back.

"Eager aren't we?" He teased.

He stepped back, his hands going to the buckle of his belt. Your eyes widened, mesmerized by the unhurried way he unfastened it, the soft clink of the metal loud in the quiet room. He pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough, and you couldn’t help but stare.

He was a lot. Your breath hitched, a fresh wave of uncertainty crashing over you. You had no idea how to even begin.

And then your gaze caught on something else a flash of ink just above his lower hip, where the waistband of his underwear had slipped lower. A small hint of color in the dim light.

A tattoo.

It was a kiss mark. Full and slightly parted, stamped into his skin in a bold pinkish red. You kept staring at it, your own lips parting unconsciously. Your fingers twitched at your side. You wanted to touch it. To trace the shape of it until you wouldn't forget.

You dragged your eyes away from the tattoo, finally looking up at his face. Warm and watching. The knot in your stomach began to untie itself.

Niki noticed your wide eyed stare and chuckled, a low, reassuring sound. He sat on the bed beside you, his bare thigh pressing against yours. “Don’t overthink it. Just come here.” He guided you, his hands gentle but firm, positioning you to kneel, the floor was soft beneath your knees. He leaned back on his hands, looking down at you.  

“Okay,” he said, his voice dropping to that instructional, patient tone that made a shiver run down your spine. “First lesson. Use your hands. Start slow. Get familiar with me.”

Your hand trembled as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around him. He was warm, the skin impossibly soft over a rigid core. You heard his breath catch, a tiny reward that gave you a bit of confidence. You held him, feeling the weight of him in your palm, exploring the shape of him with tentative strokes.

“Just like that,” he praised, his eyes half lidded. “Feel how I react to you. You’re doing so well baby.”

His words were a boost to your ego. You looked up at him through your lashes, searching for guidance. He smiled, a flash of that familiar teasing glint. “Now, I want you to kiss it. Start right at the tip.”

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you turned your head. You leaned in close to his hip, your breath warm against his skin. And then you dragged your tongue slowly over the tattoo.

His body felt smooth under the flat of your tongue. Salty skin and something else just the faintest hint of metallic ink. You licked it again, slower this time, tasting all of him.

Above you, he went completely still.

The silence stretched for one heartbeat. Two.

Then his hand was in your hair, not painfully, but firm. He tilted your head back, forcing your eyes up to his.

His jaw was set. "Did I say you could do that?"

Your heart stuttered. "I-"

"I'm giving you a lesson," he said, his voice low and even, each word deliberate. "I tell you to kiss the tip, and you decide to go tongue my tattoo instead?" He tsked softly, shaking his head. "That's not how this works."

You opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off with a squeeze on your neck.

"Good girls," he murmured, thumb brushing your lower lip, “get what they want. Good girls follow instructions." He tilted his head, studying you. "You want a lesson? Well lessons are for good girls who know how to listen. What you just did?"

He leaned down, bringing his face close to yours, his breath hot against your cheek.

"That earns a punishment."

A shiver raced down your spine. Heat pooled low in your belly equal parts fear and something hungry. You should have been intimidated. Instead, that same reckless impulse that had made you lick his tattoo flared up again.

"I want it," you whispered, your voice steadier than you felt. "Give me it."

His eyes darkened. For a moment, you thought you'd pushed too far. His grip in your hair tightened just slightly, and his expression flickered with something unreadable.

Then he exhaled slowly through his nose, and a smile curled the corner of his mouth. Not a nice smile. A knowing one.

"Demanding now?" He pulled back just enough to look down at you, and you felt the loss of his closeness like a missing breath. "You don't get to demand. You don't get to decide what you want and just take it." He reached down and gently but firmly redirected your attention back to where he'd originally placed you. "You want your lesson? Then you're going to learn it. My way."

He waited. The silence pressed against your skin.

"Now," he said, and his voice had dropped even lower, rougher. "Try again. Start at the tip. And this time, you keep your tongue to yourself unless I tell you otherwise."

Your lips parted. You wanted to argue. You wanted to push again, to see how far that dark look in his eyes would go.

But something in his posture told you that wasn't the right move. Not yet.

So you swallowed your attitude, barely and leaned forward again. Your lips brushed the tip, soft and obedient. You heard him exhale above you, and his hand in your hair relaxed into something almost like praise.

"That's it," he murmured. "Thats my good girl."

The words sent a flush through your chest. You kissed him again, slower, letting your lips linger. And if your eyes flickered once more to that tattoo on his hip, you kept your tongue firmly behind your teeth.

For now.

“Mmm fuck so good,” he groaned. “Open your mouth a little more. No teeth.”

You obeyed, your lips stretching around him as you took him into the wet heat of your mouth. The feeling was strange, but not unpleasant. He was thick, filling your mouth, and you focused on breathing through your nose as he instructed.

“That’s it,” he breathed, his hips subtly straining to stay still. “Now, use your tongue. Swirl it around. And your hand can work the rest.”

You followed his instructions like a ritual. Your tongue traced the sensitive tip, exploring the texture. Your hand, slick with your own spit now, moved in a slow, twisting rhythm on the part you couldn’t reach. You were so focused on the task, on the sounds of his approving groans and whispered encouragements, that you lost your self consciousness.

“Faster,” he instructed, his voice tighter. “Just a little- mmm faster babyy.”

You picked up the pace, a sense of pride swelling in your chest when his hips started to move, thrusting into your mouth while the hand on your head tightened, guiding you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, a raw, guttural sound. “Where did you learn to- never mind. You’re a natural. Taking me so well. Look at me.”

You looked up, and the sight of him was breathtaking. His jaw was clenched, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with want and need that was fixed entirely on you. You were the one making him feel this way. A surge of power and desire coursed through you, making you moan around him. The vibration made him curse again, his hips stuttering.

"That's it," he breathed, his voice still frustratingly steady despite the way his thighs tensed beneath your hands. "Just like that."

You glanced up at him through your lashes, watching the way his jaw was set, the way his fists were clenched at his sides. He was trying so hard to stay calm. To stay in control.

You wanted to tease him.

So you slowed down. Deliberately. Pulling back until you were barely touching him at all, just the whisper of your breath against his skin.

His eye twitched. "Don't."

"Don't what?" you asked, all innocence. Then, before he could answer, you turned your head and dragged your tongue mixed with your spit and his pre cum slow and wet across his kiss tattoo. You held eye contact the whole time.

His composure cracked. Just a little. His hand flew to your hair again, gripping tight. "You're pushing it."

"Am I?" You say while kitty licking the tattoo.

"You're being a brat."

"You like it."

He tugged your head back, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes were dark, his breathing heavier now, but his voice was still calm. Too calm. "I'm close," he said. "Keep going. Finish what you started."

You smirked. "Make me."

Something shifted in his expression. He pulled you off him completely not gently this time and you landed back with a huff. A string of saliva still connected you to him, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, pouting up at him.

"You're such a tease," you whined.

Niki looked down at you, chest heaving, jaw tight. He was hard, clearly aching, but he didn't touch himself. Didn't let you touch him either.

"You want to finish?" he asked, voice low.

You nodded eagerly.

He shook his head. "Well you don't fucking deserve it."

Your pout deepened into a glare. "What? That's not fair ki plea-"

"Fair?" He crouched down to your level, one hand gripping your lower face. "You didn't listen. You licked my tattoo again when I told you not to. You slowed down on purpose. You thought you could brat your way into getting what you want."

"So?"

"So," he said, thumb pressing gently against your lower lip, "bad girls don't get to finish. Bad girls don't get a reward. Bad girls get-" He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Nothing."

"That's bullshit"

"Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" You leaned into him, glaring. "You're not gonna do anything. You're all talk."

Niki went quiet. The kind of quiet that made the air feel heavier. He stared at you for a long moment, and you could see him fighting to keep that calm mask in place. His nostrils flared. His grip on your face tightened just slightly.

Then he let go and stood up, stepping back.

"Get on the bed," he said.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

You crossed your arms, sitting stubbornly on your knees. "I said no. You wanna act like I don't deserve anything? Fine. Then you don't get anything either."

His eye twitched again. "You're really fucking testing me right now."

"Maybe I am, maybe i'm not." You tilted your chin up. "What are you gonna do about it, Niki?"

His jaw unclenched, and something raw flickered across his face. He wanted to give in. You could tell. He wanted to shove you down and take exactly what he'd been denying you both.

But he didn't.

Instead, he knelt back down in front of you, so close your noses almost touched. His voice was barely a whisper, rough and controlled at the same time.

"You want to be a brat?" he murmured. "Fine. Be a brat. But you're not getting what you want tonight. Nothing." He tapped your bottom lip with his finger. "You had your chance. You blew it."

He stood up and walked toward the bathroom.

You sat there, stunned, your body aching, your pride stinging. The kiss tattoo on his hip seemed to mock you as he walked away facing you.

"Niki," you called out, your voice smaller now.

He paused at the doorway.

"Fine," you muttered. "I'll be good."

One eyebrow raised. "Will you?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

He considered you for a long moment. Then he walked back, slowly, deliberately, and stood over you.

"We'll see," he said. "Get on the bed. And this time, you do exactly what I say. No games. No tattoo unless I say so. No bratting."

You opened your mouth to argue.

"Not one word," he cut you off. "Or I walk out that door and you finish the night alone."

You snapped your mouth shut.

He waited. You got on the bed.

He stopped at the foot of the bed and looked down at you.

"You really want it, don't you?" he asked quietly.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"The tattoo," he said. "You've been fixated on it all night. Couldn't keep your eyes off it. Couldn't keep your tongue off it."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks. "I- i'm sorry I couldn't help myself I-"

"Don't apologize." He stepped closer, then knelt on the bed in front of you. "I'm giving you permission."

Your breath caught. "What?"

"The kiss tattoo." He said smirking down at you. "You want it don't ya? Have it. But you do it my way. You don't stop until I tell you to. Understood?"

You were already leaning forward before he finished speaking.

"Ah ah," he said, pressing a finger to your forehead. "Look at me first."

You dragged your eyes up to his. They were dark, you could see the want. The hunger he was barely holding back.

"Go ahead baby," he murmured.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You lowered your mouth to his hip, and this time you didn't hold back. Your lips pressed flat against the kiss tattoo. You kissed it once. Twice. Then your mouth opened wider and you licked a slow, deliberate stripe across the ink.

A shaky breath escaped him above you. His hand found the back of your head, not gripping, just resting there. Letting you.

Encouraging you.

You moaned against his skin and did it again, wetter this time, sloppier. Your nose pressed into the hollow of his hip. Your fingers dug into his thighs. You were making out with his tattoo like it was his actual mouth, tongue swiping over the printed lips over and over, saliva smearing across it.

"That's it," he breathed, and his voice was finally breaking. Finally. "God, just like that."

You lost your mind.

You couldn't think anymore. Couldn't remember why you'd been bratty or what you'd wanted before. All you knew was that tattoo and the way his skin tasted under your tongue and the small sounds he was making above you sharp inhales, groans, his composure crumbling piece by piece.

His hand slid from your hair down your back, then around to your front. You felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, then inside, then against you and you gasped against his hip, your mouth still pressed to the tattoo.

"You're soaked," he said, almost wondering. "This is just from my tattoo?"

You couldn't answer. Your hips rocked into his hand automatically, desperately.

He didn't tease. Didn't draw it out. His fingers found exactly where you needed them and started moving slow at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of your mouth on his hip. Every time your tongue dragged across the kiss tattoo, his fingers pressed deeper. Every time you sucked a mark into the skin just below the ink, his thumb circled tighter.

You were shaking. Sloppy. Drooling against his hip, moaning into his skin, grinding down onto his hand like you couldn't get enough.

"Niki," you gasped, pulling your mouth off his tattoo just long enough to speak. "I'm gonna-"

"I know," he said, and his voice was rough, wrecked, nothing like the calm control from before. "Let go. I've got you."

You pressed your face back into his hip, your lips sealing over the kiss tattoo one last time, and came undone.

It crashed through you in waves your whole body tensing, then shuddering, then going limp against him. His fingers worked you through it, steady and sure, until you were nothing but soft breathless sounds and trembling thighs.

When it was over, you slumped against him, your forehead resting on his hip, your lips still touching the tattoo. You could feel his heartbeat racing under your cheek.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

Then his hand came up and stroked your hair, gentle now, all the sharp edges gone.

"There she is," he murmured softly. "There's my good girl."

You fall onto the bed and let out a shaky laugh, too wiped out to be bratty, too satisfied to care.

"Think you're done?" he murmured, lips brushing you. "Not even close."

You whimpered. You couldn't help it. Your body was still humming from before, oversensitive and aching, but the way he looked at you made your thighs fall open for him without a second thought.

"Please," you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for.

"I know, baby." He kissed the corner of your mouth, soft. Then his hand came down on the curve of your ass sharp, sudden, a slap echoed through the quiet room. "But you're going to take what I give you. Not what you want."

The sting bloomed hot across your skin, and you gasped, arching into him. He soothed the spot with his palm immediately, rubbing slow circles, sweet and apologetic.

"Too much?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head frantically. "No. More. Please, Niki-"

He smiled, that familiar teasing glint, and kissed your forehead. "That's my girl."

He did it again spanked you just hard enough to make you yelp, then kissed the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. Hard and soft. Punishment and praise. You couldn't keep up. Didn't want to.

"You're such a mess," he observed, dragging his fingers through the wetness between your thighs. He held them up so you could see, then sucked them clean himself, watching you the whole time. "All of this just from earlier? From a little tattoo?"

You nodded, face burning.

He laughed low in his throat not mean, just amazed. "You're insane baby."

Then he pushed himself into you, and your brain short circuited.

He was slow about it, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch. Your back bowed off the bed. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders. A broken sound fell from your lips something between a sob and a moan.

"Shh, shh, I've got you." He brushed your hair back from your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone, while his hips pressed deeper. "You can take it. You're doing so good for me."

"I can't—" you gasped.

"You can." His voice was gentle but firm. No room for argument. "And you will. Look at me."

You forced your eyes open. They were blurry with tears you didn't remember crying.

"There she is." He smiled, soft and devastating, and started to move.

You fell apart immediately.

Your mouth hung open, nothing but breathless sounds coming out. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, even though you thought you couldn't take any more. You were drooling on the pillow. Crying. Begging. You didn't even know what you were saying anymore just his name, over and over, like a prayer.

"Please please please-"

"Please what, baby?" He snapped his hips harder, making you cry out. "Use your words."

You couldn't. There were no words left in you. Just him. Just this.

He laughed softly, breathless, and kissed the tears off your cheek. "Such a pathetic slut," he murmured, but his voice was dripping with affection. "Look at you. A complete mess and you're still trying so hard for me."

He spanked you again not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you clench around him, which made him groan and drop his forehead to your shoulder.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Do that again."

You couldn't. You weren't even in control of your own body anymore. You were just feeling every stroke, every touch, every whispered word sinking into your skin like the kiss tattoo on his hip.

His pace picked up. Rougher. Harder. The headboard knocked against the wall. He gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises, and you wanted him to. You wanted proof of this tomorrow.

"You close?" he asked, voice strained.

You nodded frantically. Tears and sweat and saliva you were a mess, a complete mess, and you'd never felt more wanted in your entire life.

"Cum for me," he said, and it wasn't a request. It was a command. Soft and hard all at once. "Now. Let go. I've got you."

You shattered.

It ripped through you like a wave, pulling you under. Your whole body seized, then shook and melted into him. He followed right after, burying himself deep, his groan vibrating against your throat, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid you'd disappear.

For a long moment, there was nothing but breathing. Heavy, shaky, tangled together in the dark.

He pulled out slowly, carefully, and you whimpered at the loss. He shushed you gently, pressing kisses to your jaw, your nose, your closed eyelids.

"I know," he whispered. "I know. I'm not going anywhere."

He reached over and grabbed something a towel, maybe, or his shirt and cleaned you up with impossibly gentle hands. Every touch was soft now. Like you were something precious he'd almost broken.

You couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Could only lie there, limp and trembling, as he tugged the blankets up over both of you and pulled you into his chest.

"Hey," he said softly, tipping your chin up. "You with me?"

You blinked slowly, your eyes barely staying open. "Mmhm."

He smiled, not the teasing one, not the dark one. The sweet one you only got to see when he thought you weren't looking.

"My good girl always," he murmured, kissing your forehead. "Sleep."

You pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in. His hand traced lazy patterns on your back circles and hearts and shapes you were too tired to recognize.

The kiss tattoo was pressed somewhere against your thigh now, you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and sure beneath your ear, and his voice in the dark, so quiet you almost missed it

"Sweet dreams, my love."

You wake up to sunlight and the sound of your heart trying to escape your chest.

For a moment, you don't know where you are. Your room. Your bed. But there's an arm around your waist. A chest pressed against your back. A leg tangled with yours. Warmth. Steady breathing. The smell of him.

Niki.

And then the panic hits.

You sit up so fast you nearly hit him. He groans, blinking awake, his hair sticking up everywhere. He looks confused. Then he looks at you. Then his eyes go wide.

"Jake," you hiss.

His face drains of color. "What time is it?"

You grab your phone off the nightstand. 11:47 AM. Your heart stops. "He's been up for like an hour. He's gonna come check on me any minute."

Niki is already out of bed, grabbing his pants, hopping on one foot. "Did he see? Does he know? Why didn't you set an alarm?"

"Me?!? why didn't you set an alarm?"

"Because I wasn't planning on sleeping in, I thought id wake up" He stops. Looks at you. Something softer passes through his eyes. Then panic rushes back. "We need to- you need to-"

"Go. Hide. Now." You wave at the door. "The bathroom. He'll think you were just using it."

He grabs his shirt, pulls it over his head. His hair is a disaster. He looks ridiculous. You almost forget to be scared.

He pauses at the door. "What's the plan?"

"You go to the bathroom. I'll go out there, act normal. You come out after a few minutes like nothing happened."

"That's your plan?"

"You have a better one?"

He grins despite himself. "No."

"Then go."

He presses a quick kiss on your lips then slips out. You hear the bathroom door click shut. Then you hear footsteps in the hallway. Jake's footsteps.

You scramble out of bed. Sweatpants. Sweater. Something that covers your neck. You check the mirror once, twice. Good. You look normal. You look like you just woke up. You look like you didn't spend the night doing things you've only ever imagined.

You take a breath. You walk out.

Jake is in the kitchen, coffee in hand, leaning against the counter. He looks up when you enter.

"Morning," he says.

You try to sound casual. "Morning."

He takes a sip of his coffee. "Sleep okay?"

Your heart hammers. "Fine. You?"

"Fine." He glances toward the hallway. "Niki still here? I heard the bathroom."

Your brain short circuits. "Uh- yeah. He's- he's in there. I think."

Jake nods. "Cool. Let me make him some coffee."

He moves to the cabinet, pulls out another mug. Casual. Normal. Like nothing is wrong. You stand there, heart pounding, waiting for him to say something, to notice something, to know.

The bathroom door opens. Niki walks out, hair still messy, face calm. Too calm. Like he's practiced this.

"Morning," he says.

Jake hands him a mug. "Morning. You want pancakes?"

Niki blinks. "Pancakes?"

"Yeah. I was gonna make some."

Niki looks at you. You look at Jake. Jake is pouring batter onto a pan, completely unfazed.

"Yeah sure im down" Niki says slowly.

You stand there, frozen, watching your brother make pancakes. Like his best friend didn't just spend the night in your room teaching you questionable lessons.

Maybe he doesn't know. Maybe you're safe.

You move to the table, sit down. Your legs feel like jelly. Niki sits across from you, his face unreadable. Jake flips pancakes, humming something under his breath.

Then he turns around.

His eyes drop to your neck. He tilts his head.

"That's a nice sweater," he says. "Very high collar. Very concealing."

You pull the collar up. "It's cold."

"It's 83 degrees outside."

"Well does it look like I'm outside right now?"

He grins. He looks at Niki. Niki is staring at his coffee like it holds the secrets to the universe.

Jake sets a plate of pancakes in front of you. Then one in front of Niki. Then he sits down across from both of you, coffee in hand, and just watches.

"Anyways" he says, "anything interesting happened last night?"

You choke on your coffee. Niki kicks you under the table.

"No," you say, too fast. "Nothing. Just you know, sleep."

"Just sleeping," Jake repeats.

"Yep."

Jake sets his coffee down and looks at both of you. "So."

That's it. Just "so." One word. And somehow it's the most terrifying thing you've ever heard.

Niki stares at his pancakes. You stare at your coffee. Jake waits. The silence is unbearable.

"Nothing to say?" Jake asks.

You shake your head. Niki shakes his head.

"Okay," Jake says. "Then I'll go first."

He leans back in his chair. "Last night. I got home past midnight. Went to check if Niki needed a blanket." He looks at Niki. "Guest room? Empty. Couch? Empty."

Niki's jaw tightens.

"So I'm standing in the hallway, confused," Jake continues. "And I notice your light is on." He looks at you. "Which is weird, because you always sleep with it off."

You swallow. "I was reading."

Jake ignores you. "So I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still no answer." He pauses. "So I open the door."

Your heart stops.

"And what do I see?" Jake looks between you and Niki. "My best friend. In my sister's bed. Both of you. Cuddling."

You bury your face in your hands. "Oh my god."

"Yeah, oh my god." Jake takes a sip of his coffee. "So I closed the door. Went to bed. And now we're here."

Niki runs a hand through his hair. "Jake, I can explain-"

"Please do."

Niki takes a breath. "I was watching a movie. In her room. And I fell asleep."

Jake raises an eyebrow. "You fell asleep."

"Yeah."

"Naked."

Niki's face goes red. "It was hot in there."

"Dude, I left the AC on."

"God forbid I was running hot."

Jake stares at him. "You run hot?"

"Yes."

"In my sister's bed."

Niki opens his mouth. Closes it.

Jake turns to you. "And you. You also fell asleep. Naked. While watching a movie?"

You nod weakly. "Yes."

"What movie?"

You freeze. "What?"

"What movie were you watching?"

You look at Niki. He looks at you. Neither of you says a word.

Jake waits. Ten seconds. Twenty.

"That's what I thought," he says finally.

He picks up his fork. Takes a bite of his pancake. Chews slowly. Swallows.

"Look," he says. "I'm not stupid. I know what was happening. I don't need details. I don't want details." He points his fork at Niki. "But next time? Lock the door."

Niki nods quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Lock the door."

He looks at you. His face softens. "You're my sister. He's my best friend. You've both been dancing around each other for years." He shrugs. "I want you to be happy. If that's him, then that's him."

Your throat is tight. "Jake-"

"Don't get emotional. It's too early for that." He grabs a pancake, takes a bite.

Both you and Niki laugh. It's shaky, yet relieved. "Aye aye captain."

Jake points his fork at him. "And if you hurt her, I will end you. You know that, right?"

Niki nods. "I know I know."

"Good." Jake takes another bite. Then he looks at both of you, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"So," he says, "how long has this been going on?"

You and Niki look at each other. Niki's mouth twitches.

"Define 'going on,'" he says.

Jake throws a napkin at him. "I knew it. I freaking knew it. The way you two look at each other? Disgusting. I've been saying it for years."

"You've never said anything," you say.

"I've been saying it in my head. That counts."

Niki relaxes, leaning back in his chair. "So you're really not mad?"

Jake shrugs. "I mean, I'm a little mad. Mostly because now I have to see you both be all coupley around me. Ew, that's gonna be annoying."

You laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm serious. No kissing in front of me. No hand holding. No weird couple whispering." He points at Niki. "And you're still gonna come over. You're still my friend. This doesn't change that."

Niki grins. "Deal."

Jake nods, satisfied. He picks up his coffee, takes a long sip. Then he looks at both of you again.

"One more thing," he says.

You tense. "Holy fuck what now?"

He grins. "Next time Niki stays over, he's sleeping on the couch. I don't care how late it is. I'm not going through this again."

Niki groans. "Oh come on."

"No negotiations. Couch. That's the rule."

You laugh. Niki sighs dramatically. But when you look at him, he's smiling. And when he reaches for your hand under the table, you let him. And when Jake pretends not to notice, you let him pretend.

[w6chu]

ㅤㅤㅤ㖦♥︎ ⠀⁾ ̠P̠̠R̠̠E̠̠T̠̠T̠̠Y̠ ̠ B̠̠O̠̠Y̠ ㅤ﴿ㅤ ♱ ✙ᣟ݂𖥟. ✙ᣟ݂𖥟.

ㅤㅤㅤ༚˚⠒⢤♥️⡀ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 𓈒 ◌ 𖤓 𓈒 ◌ ⠀𖠁

ㅤㅤ艌꯭艦‎ㅤ⠀❕ㅤ i look in the mirror, now im just a jigsaw ✶✶

[smidare]

thinking about buff yuma putting me in a headlock ❤︎

[hoonkitti]

shared secret ─ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

best friends who share everything… including their side chick.

𓊆박성훈 & 심재윤& 박종성 x fem reader𓊇 baby, is it me or are you doing something to me? when you smile, it’s shining, but for some reason, you’re lying inside. dangerously, you’re beautiful. you slowly came to me, my dilemma like a habit. ─ baby don't like it, nct127 ⫶ 𐔌masterlist꒱

𓆩♡𓆪 wow hi :< it's been a minute since i wrote + something so long + smut?! + foursome?!?!?! ... i'm super sorry in advance if this is so shit because yk i don't reread my smut and this is genuinely just 10k of filth hahsheahs and i miss u guys so much kisses kisses kisses :x

word count 10k content advisory heavy infidelity/cheating, lowkey polyamory? possessiveness, side chick, jay is a football player, jake is a nerd, toxic relationship, moral ambiguity, hoes before bros or whatever, no one's a good person here, mentioned of underage drinking (1), kinda sunghoon biased i'm so sorry, non proofread! smut advisory foursome (fmmm), very nasty mayne, different sex scenes, squirt, fingering, cum stuffing, oral, fellatio, pussy licking/sucking, lots of making out jesus, dirty talk, profanity, locker room fucking, creampie, cumshot, tit play, jake's in love with your tits and sunghoon can't stop kissing you, flirting, jay's gentler than the others, jake is lowkey a softdom/sub, sunghoon's a hard-dom and mean, use of slut, whore, cumdump etc. doggy style, side-fucking, missionary, creampie after creampie, car sex, hotel sex... might miss out some but pls.

growing up as a trio—jake, sunghoon, and jay always, and always made sure that no secrets are kept from one another. from highschool, and attending the same college, they stuck together like glue—rooming in the same dorm block, sharing the same late–night runs, copying each other’s work despite not taking the same major but shared classes.

they called themselves 02z (and sunghoon always thought that it was corny) and no matter what happened, the rule was simple: no secrets. everything got laid out on the table—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the embarrassing. 

and they’d proven it time and time again.

like the time jake got stupidly drunk at a house party at the age of seventeen, and jay had to haul his half–conscious ass back through the window of his bedroom while sunghoon knocked on the front door and entertained jake’s father from finding out.

or the time jay accidentally broke the school’s window and to prevent him from getting suspended and kicked out of the football team, jake stepped forward and took the blame—”i threw it too hard to impress a girl, sorry.” he flashed that innocent puppy smile and accepted the week’s detention without complaint. jay never forgot it and paid him back by covering his shifts for two whole weeks.

but the real payment was the tighter bond between them.

“ride or die,” sunghoon had said once. and in a world where friendships were shallow and people stabbed each other in the back, the three of them were unbreakable. like a stream of water, it cannot be cut—

but even the strongest stream can be diverted when the faucet is turned.

——

 funny enough—the first time jay saw you was during one of his football friendly matches. 

it was a casual friday afternoon game, nothing serious, just the medic faculty versus the business for bragging rights and free drinks afterward. jay was on the field in his number 99 jersey, sweat already soaking the back of his neck under the orange sun.

his girlfriend, minji, was sitting in the small bleachers with a couple of her friends, waving at him every time he glanced her way. he’d blown her a kiss before the whistle, the perfect boyfriend move that made his teammates tease him later.

and you weren’t even supposed to be there for him. 

you were merely just a friend with one of the strikers in his team—and had come along because he (martin) had begged you to at least pretend to cheer so he doesn’t look like a loser. you sat on the grass near the sidelines, knees pulled up in those pretty shorts and prettier top. 

you weren’t attention seeking or loud, but jay found his eyes travelling to you more often than he’d like to. light, genuine laughter that cut through the noise of the field and scored him square in the chest. he almost lost the ball.

and if it wasn’t after the match that everyone gathered near the benches to talk about what happened and martin pulled you in to join the conversation. you, being youself—ever so friendly and talkative you, even prettier up close and funnier than most girls he know—chatted with the rest of the boys like you’d known them for months.

jay stood there, still catching his breath, tower slung over his shoulder, watching you. the conversation flowed naturally and he found himself grinning wider than he should, eyes lingering on the way your lips curved when you smiled.

“you played so well. even if your team totally got lucky on that last goal,” you commented, casually sitting next to jay on the bench. jay laughed, humming. “yeah? that never happened by the way—so it was probably your luck.”

you raised an eyebrow, amused, turning your body slightly toward him. “you think so?”

the way you said it made something in his chest tighten in the best way possible. most girls would either just giggle or try too hard, but you looked like you were genuinely enjoying the back–and–forth. 

he leaned back on the bench, resting his elbows behind him. his jersey clung to his chest, damp with sweat, but neither of you care. for once, he was grateful his girlfriend wasn’t around.

“maybe,” he replied, that smirk tugging at his lips. “or maybe you’re bad luck for the other team. every time you cheered us, their defense fell apart. i saw it.”

you let out the laugh that got him almost distracted on the field earlier—and shook your head. “you’re so smooth, jay. do you use that line on every girl who watches your game?” 

uh, oh. 

his smirk faltered for half a second. he let out a quick, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck to play it cool. “of course not,” he said, chuckling a little too loudly. “that would be way too cheesy. i swear i’m not that kind of guy.”

you tilted your head, studying him with glint in your eyes. then, casually, almost too casually, you dropped it—

“i thought so! you kept blowing kisses to a girl earlier. i saw it.”

jay went quiet.

the easy smile on his face froze. his fingers tightened slightly around his water bottle as the words landed. he swore—he swore—he didn’t mean to come off as flirty or anything, but it just… came out naturally. 

like it was just you.

for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. he hadn’t even realised you’d noticed that. 

“yeah, well…” he started, voice trailing off. he looked away for a second, heartbeat drumming fast, searching for the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete asshole. 

before he could finish, you broke into a soft giggle and waved your hand lightly in front of him. “i’m just joking, hehe,” you said, mischievous. “relax. you don’t have to look so guilty.”

jay let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the tension in his shoulder easing as he laughed along. you were teasing him, but the way you said it so playfully made his tummy flip. 

he finally met your eyes, watching the way your lips curved when you smiled like that. relax. you don’t have to look so guilty. then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to you. 

“put your number in,” he said, smoother and calmer now. “next time we play, you could be our lucky charm again.” 

you’re not stupid. if anything, martin would’ve invited you to the next matches anyway. but you took the phone anyway—fingers brushed against his. you saved yourself as yn, followed with a little soccer ball emoji and handed it back.

“don’t blow me kisses though,” you teased lightly as you stood up, brushing invisible dust from your shorts.

jay watched your back as you walked away, phone warm in his hand, your contact staring back at him. it’s harmless—it’s just a number and you’re just a girl who was easy and fun to talk to.

but the further you got from him, the more it’s clear to jay that he was going to text you tonight. 

and the first turn of the faucet happened—quietly, and completely without anyone knowing, not even jay himself.

——

“oh my gosh, my player,” you moaned sensually, tipping your head back as jay lifted you up around his waist with ease. 

his strong hands gripped the back of your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pressed you against the cool metal locker. the contrast between the cold surface on your back and the heat of his body made you shiver.

jay’s mouth was on yours instantly—hungry, deep, messy, and horny. he kissed you like he’d been starving from it since the first whistle was blown, tongue sliding against yours while low groans rumbled deep from his chest. 

“fuck baby, you feel so good like this,” he rasped between kisses, grinding his hard cock against your bare pussy. the thin fabric of his shorts was the only thing separating you, and you could feel every inch of him throbbing, already leaking like a little boy for you. 

“my little reward.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as you rocked your hips against him, chasing the friction. “hngh—you did so well… how are you so good at everything?” another sensual moan slipped from your lips when he shifted and rubbed the head of his cock against your swollen clit. 

“am i?” his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting lightly, leaving faint marks he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t stop himself from making. one hand stayed under your thigh, holding you up effortlessly, while the other squeezed your tit, thumb flicking over your perky nipple until you whimpered. 

“look at you,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse with list. “so fucking wet and ready for me after i won. you like being my secret celebration, baby?” 

you nodded eagerly, pussy twitching and clenching around nothing but the idea of jay’s thick cock inside. sensing that—he pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, tip glistening with a bead of precum. 

“i want you—fuck me, please,” you cry out, leaning to kiss him.

without another word, jay lined himself up and pushed inside you in one slow, deep thrust—stretching you open, filling you completely. a broken moan tore from your throat as he bottomed out, walls clenching tight around him. the guy buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly at how perfectly you took him. 

“shit… so tight,” he breathed, staying still to let you adjust—but not for long before he started moving, sensual, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock against every sensitive spot. “oh god, yesyesyes, just like that,”

the locker rattled with every thrust. your legs tightened around his waist, heels dragging into his lower back as he fucked you against the cool metal, mouth never leaving your skin. he kissed, licked, and sucked at your neck and collarbone while his pace gradually picked up, turning deeper and harder.

“mine tonight,” he whispered roughly, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles on your wet, sensitive clit. you moaned louder, bud ticklish and feeling like you were going to squirt—which you did, just seconds after. 

jay’s so good and gentle with how he’s treating you it’s making your chest flutter. “yours, jay, yours,” you gasped as the head of his cock knocked against your cervix—jerking your body upwards with each pound.

“my pretty little trophy… taking my cock so well after the game.”

your moans grew louder, more desperate, echoing softly in the empty, locked, locker room as he drove into you again and again and again—sensual, hot, sinful, and so fucking good.

jay’s breathing turned ragged, forehead pressed to yours as he chased both your highs, the wet slap of your skin and your shared gasps filling the air. the player ended up cumming—shooting ropes and ropes of warm jizz on your pretty little face, landing some on your head.

seeing how well you’re cleaning his cock—jay realised he was far from done with you.

——

for sim jaeyun, everything had its place, neatly stacked in order of importance.

first came his family—always. then his friends (sunghoon and jay at top, then the rest of the people he knows). layla, his border collie, squeezed into that top tier too. studies came strongly after that because he believed it’s 100% his future—

and finally, only then—way down the list—came fun.

and fun included his girlfriend, chloe. she was sweet, understanding, and never complained when he told her he had to study late or hang out with the boys. jake liked that about her—she knew her place in his priorities, and she respected it.

he never meant to rearrange that list. 

“sorry we can’t do this at my apartment,” jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “my girlfriend’s been staying over a lot lately and… yeah. i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

you and jake shared multiple classes since the start of the semester, sitting in the same lecture halls but he’d never really talked to you. not until the professor paired you two together for a major project that counted half of the final grade.

now here you were—tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner of the library on the third floor. jake sat across from you, laptop open, highlighter between his teeth as he scribbled notes. you leaned back in your chair, legs crossed, a small knowing smile playing on your lips.

unlike the easy friendliness you’d shown jay, something about jake brought out a slightly different side of you—a bit more teasing, more… dominant? like you enjoyed watching the good boy squirm a little. 

“that’s okay, jakey,” you replied, tilting your head, eyes locked onto his. “anywhere is fine at least we get it done, right?”

jake blinked, caught off guard by the nickname but didn’t comment on it. his cheeks warmed slightly, but he laughed it off. “yeah… exactly. studies first, you know? gotta keep priorities straight.” 

you hummed, leaning forward on your elbow, chin resting on your hand as you watched him. jake had to do everything just from glancing at your cleavage sticking out from your shirt. the way your gaze lingered made the air between you feel a little heavier, more intimate—and jake figured this was why most girls wouldn’t want their boyfriends around a girl.

a pretty one at that too.

“that’s good. keeping everything in order like that, hehe.”

the words slipped out casually but jake’s ears turned pink anyway. he shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper–aware of how secluded this corner was—no one could really see the two of you back here.

he tried to steer the conversation back to the project, pointing at the screen as you scooted closer beside him. “so… for this second, i was thinking we could—”

“oh—you typed quantitative wrong here—” 

you leaned in and pointed at the typo on his laptop screen. in the process, your chest brushed against his arm, soft and warm through your thin top that jake swore he felt the sponge of your bra. 

jake froze.

his breath hitched, eyes widening for a split second as he felt the brief press of your chest against his bicep. a rush of heat shot straight through him and you felt the way he tensed up.

“oh—shit, sorry,” you said quickly, pulling back a little, though your voice didn’t sound even an ounce of guilt if he was being honest. “didn’t mean to interrupt you like that.”

his mouth went dry. he could still feel the ghost of the touch on his arm, and his brain was suddenly struggling to form normal sentences. “n—no, it’s okay,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks now matching the pink of his ears.

“don’t worry about it.”

you bit your lip to hide a small smile, watching the way composed jake was suddenly flustered. the good boy who kept his priorities straight was starting to crack a little. instead of moving back, you stayed right where you were—shoulders almost touching his, close enough that your perfume filled his nostrils. 

you pointed at the screen again, this time more carefully, your nails tapping on the lcd. your voice dropped softer, with a hint of light dominant slipping through.  

“see? right here. fix it, jakey.”

jake swallowed hard, nodding quickly as his fingers moved to the keyboard. but it was hard to focus on the project anymore—not when every time you shifted even slightly, he became hyper–aware of how close you were, and how dangerous his mind was playing at.

that damn cleavage and top.

maybe it was because jake met you during one of his ‘studying’ sessions, but you were quick to climb up his carefully built hierarchy. just like jay, you were easy to talk to, quick with your thoughts, and somehow jake liked… being told what to do. shamelessly.

“you’re so good at this,” you hummed softly, scooting your chair just a tiny bit closer until your knee brushed his under the table. “what’s something you’re not good at?” 

you meant the project—but you also knew men like jake would divert the meaning elsewhere. something jake’s not good at is probably standing on his morals and keeping his priorities straight. 

not when he’s easily swayed like this.

——

just two months after that, jake’s stacked priorities crumbled.

parked in a quiet, dimly lit corner of the campus parking lot at 11:49 p.m., the backseat of his car fogged up. he had a chemistry exam the next day—yet here he was. 

“jakey…” you whispered against his mouth, voice low and teasing as you cupped his cheeks, fingers tapping against his skin. “you’re thinking too much again.” you continued, straddling his lap and brushing your lips against his.

“it’s late…” he breathed, even as his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you down harder against the obvious bulge in his jeans. “test t’morrow… chloe… fuck, this is so wrong.”

you pouted playfully, rolling your hips and grinding against him in the meantime. “but you’ll ace the test tomorrow anyway, why bother?” you hummed, pressing your lips against him. jake groaned, head falling back against the seat. you purposely ignored the latter problem.

his morals screamed at him, but his body betrayed him completely.

clothes were pushed aside rather than fully removed—your skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side, his jeans shoved down just enough. he had you on all fours, exactly how he liked it best: doggy style.

as all up for him to watch as it jiggles—yeah, fuck yeah. jake’s hands gripped your hips tightly as he pushed into you from behind in one, full, deep thrust—instantly burying himself deep with a broken moan.

“shit—you feel so good, yn,” he gasped, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades for a second. the angle was beyond perfect—the cramped car, and your tight, wet, cunt while being so deep he could feel every clench around him. 

“uh huh? what else?”

he started moving, savouring the way your back arched for him, the way you pushed back to meet every thrust, the way your ass jiggled when his pelvis slapped ‘em. “so tight, your pussy’s so tight, yn,” he rasped, picking up his pace. jake’s hips snapped harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the space of the car. “i love it—love your pussy,”

jake’s cock was probably the longest you’ve had, reaching so deep your fingers, toys, and other boys had never been able to. “oh god, jakey, you’re so good,” you moaned aloud, palms flat against the fogged window.

“you’re ruining me,” jake groaned, one hand sliding up to push you down lower, chest pressed against the seat while your ass stayed up for him. “can’t stop thinkin’ about this—about you.”

his balls slapped against your wet pussy, dragging you velvet walls with each time he pulled out. you moaned sensually, gripping the edge of the seat as he fucked you faster, coming close. “then don’t stop, just do me all the time.”

that pushed him over the edge. 

the boy’s grip tightened. he pulled you back onto his cock, deep with every thrust. the car rocked with his movements. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, sweat dripping down his temple, morals completely shattered as he took you exactly how he loved—deep, rough, playful.

“want your cum, gosh—fuck, cum all over me,” you gasped, saliva leaking out from the edge of your mouth. your pussy squelched with every thrust, juices splattering on the leather seat. what a shame to the girlfriend, really.

he leaned over you, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other braced beside your head, pounding into you harder as he began chasing his end. “shouldn’t… i really shouldn’t…” he groaned, voice strained and broken.

“c’mon, be a good boy—give it to me, cumcumcum,”

the praise pushed him over—with a final moan, jake pulled out of your dripping pussy. he flipped you onto your back in one motion, trapping you between his knees. his hand pumped his slick, wet cock furiously, eyes dark and wild as he hovered above you.

you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes—lips parted, chest heaving, already arching your back and pushing your tits together for him. his abs tensed, jaw clenched tight.

“shit—i’m cumming—!”

thick liquidity, warm ropes of cum shot across your chest in messy spurts, painting your tits and collarbones white. some landed right on your nipple, dripping slowly down the curve which only caused jake to cum some more.

fuck, that’s so fucking hot—he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat as he kept stroking himself through it, milking every last drop until his cock twitched empty and his whole body shuddered. 

you licked around your lips, smearing jake’s cum all over your pretty tits. it looked like you were lactating his cum. 

“fuck… am i good enough, yn?” he murmured, chest heaving. “look at what you do to me.”

——

saturday night and sunghoon’s at a popular off–campus club with a group of his classmates. while he’s not much of a party guy, he came because one of them kept dragging him anyway, and he knew he couldn’t keep rejecting their advances for so long.

he’s sitting in the booth area, nursing drunks, bored, and detached while everyone else is loud and drunk. sunghoon doesn’t dance. doesn’t flirt. just watch.

that’s when he saw you.

you’re on the dance floor with your girlfriends, just being effortlessly sexy and attractive—the way your body swayed, hair sticking on your neck from the heat, the same curve of your smile that jay was starstrucked with. 

and that damn black dress that hugged your curves just right.

sunghoon’s eyes locked on you instantly, he didn't smile when your eyes met his as well across the floor—just watching. instead of looking away shyly, you held his gaze for a few seconds, then your eyes travelled from the top of his head down to his shoes, and  gave him a slow smile before turning back to your friends.

that was all it took for him.

sunghoon stood up, leaving his classmates’ drinks and stuffs on the table, and walked straight onto the crowd. he didn’t say anything at first—just slid in behind you, one hand slightly resting on your waist as he spun you around to meet him. 

“hey,” he murmured, tall frame towering over you. “what’s that about?”

you tilted your head slightly, a playful, faux innocence smile playing on your lips. “what’s what about?”

his eyebrows furrowed just a fraction, but the corner of his mouth twitched—the tiniest hint of amusement and a thought of, wow, the audacity. his hand stayed on your waist, thumb pressing lightly into the fabric of your dress, holding you in place. 

“that look you gave me,” he said, shrugging. “are you daring me?”

you let out a soft laugh that almost sounded like a scoff, eyes sparkling and laced with a kind of bratness that he never knew he was into. you didn’t pull away but instead stepped a little closer, letting your chest brush against his as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“and if i am?” you replied, sweetly. “what are you gonna do about it?”

morality had always been quite a blur to sunghoon.

he never lost sleep over it but rules, right and wrong, loyalty—they were just concepts that applied to other people. as long as it didn’t affect his image or his life or his close circle greatly, he didn’t care enough to draw hard lines.

and tonight, those blurry lines had just walked out of the club with him.

sunghoon didn’t say much as he guided you toward his black sedan by holding your hand in his. you glanced up at him, still wearing that same little smile. “you always drag girls out of clubs without asking their name?”

he unlocked the car with a soft beep and opened the front door for you. his eyes met yours—completely unbothered. “sunghoon,” he said simply. “and i don’t bring girls out anywhere.”

you let out a hum, but still slid into the front seat without hesitation. he followed right after, closing the door behind him. the inside of his car smelled strongly of his cologne, and as he started the engine, he didn’t bother with small talks. didn’t ask where you lived, nor did he offer to take you home. 

sunghoon pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the city centre with his one hand occasionally brushing your thigh. you watched the streetlights flicker across his jawline and the way his expression said nothing eventhough the tension between you two in the car reeked with want.

“so… where are we going?”

“a hotel. closer than my place.”

——

the door had barely clicked shut before sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, mouth crashing into yours in a deep. hungry kiss. there was nothing gentle about it—his lips moved against yours with need, tongue sliding in immediately to taste you as one hand gripped your jaw, and the other pressed on your hip. 

and you—you kissed him back just as greedily, fingers digging into his shoulders, tugging at his shirt like you wanted it off yesterday. “ngh—hngh,” you moaned into his mouth, tongue intertwining and sucking on one another.

sunghoon broke the kiss only long enough to pull your dress up and over your head at once, letting it drop to the floor. his hands were on you instantly—squeezing your tits, sliding down to grip your ass, yanking you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was through his pants.

“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, voice low. he bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue before kissing you again, deeper this time. 

you moaned into his mouth, hands working frantically to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. the moment his bare chest pressed against yours, sunghoon groaned and lifted you up. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried you across the room, lips still on yours.

he dropped you onto the bed, the mattress dipping. before you could even catch your breath, sunghoon was crawling over you, shoving his pants and boxers fully down to free his thick, heavy cock.

and jesus—unlike jay or jake’s, sunghoon was packing. 

“you’re so hot,” sunghoon licked his lips, hooked his fingers into your panties, ripped them down your legs, and spread your thighs wide open with his knees. he looked down at you for one brief second, then lined himself up. 

“are you gonna fuck me? without even knowing my name?”

sunghoon paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cocky smirk. finally, he didn’t look cold. he pushed just the tip inside you, teasing, before answering.

“i know you, yn,”

your eyes almost widened, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across your features. 

“how?”

he leaned down closer, one hand gripping your thigh as he slowly sank another inch deeper, stretching your tight cunt open. “i overhead your friends,” he murmured, hissing through his teeth as your pussy engulfed him. 

you let out a soft moan, back arching as the familiar burn of being stretched came back to you. “fuck… you’re really something, hoonie.”

sunghoon bottomed out with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you. for a second, he stayed still—letting you feel and adjust every inch of him, his grip on your thighs tightened. you arched your back, eyes half–lidded as you looked up at him, that spark still burning bright behind your eyes. 

“fuck me good, hoonie,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip as you began palming and playing with your tits, tweaking the perky buds. “make it worth me leaving my friends for you.”

“shh—shut up and let me do the work.”

that night, sunghoon fucked you for hours—the bed creaked loudly beneath as he fucked you deep and fast, hips snapping against yours with every thrust. his hands held your thighs spread wide, keeping you open as he pounded. the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the hotel room.

“fuck—your cunt feels s’good,” sunghoon moaned, tipping his head against the headrest, jaw clenched tight. you hovered right over his hard, slick cock. sunghoon’s eyes never left yours as you sank down onto him, taking every inch until your ass met his lap.

a broken moan left your lips at the deeper angle. sunghoon groaned too, his fingers digging harder. “look at you,” he murmured, eyes roaming over your face, your bouncing, marked, tits, lips parted in pleasure with your tongue sticking out. 

fuck. this is why sunghoon loved cowgirl. watching every lewd, pretty expression, every flutter of your eyelashes, your mouth opened to moan his name—because of this cock. 

you started moving, rolling your hips in sensual circles, then bouncing on his cock with more force. his hands guided you, but he let you do most of the work, just like he liked it. his gaze stayed locked on your face the entire time. 

“you’re so big, hoonie, oh jesus fuck,” you moaned eagerly, biting your lip. with each time you bounced on it, the head of his cock kissed your cervix sweetly and it felt so fucking good. he pulled you down closer by the nape of your neck, and kissed you deeply while you rode him. 

“that’s it… just like that, baby,” he rasped against your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. “ride my cock like a good girl—let me see how pretty you look when you cum on me again.”

his free hand moved between your bodies to circle and pinch your perky buds. the combination made your rhythm falter, thighs shaking as you bounced faster, chasing the high. 

sunghoon kept watching you—obsessed. he kissed you again and again, swallowing your moans, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your movements and driving himself even deeper.

“cummin’ soon, babe?” he murmured against your lips, now moving his hand to rub that sensitive, wet, clit. “cum on me—then i’ll fill you up.”

you could only moan his name as the pleasure built higher and higher, your hips moving desperately. 

sunghoon, who never thought he’d ever cheat on sooha, let alone creampie another girl he just met raw—watched your face with almost possessive gaze. he had always been careful, even with someone who has little to no morals. 

and you—who had literally never let anyone cum inside you before—were seconds away from letting him be the first.

your thighs shook as the orgasm crashed over you. “fuck—!” you cried out, clenching hard around him, hips stuttering as you came and squirted all over his cock. the feeling of your pussy pulsing and gushing around him pushed sunghoon over the edge. 

thick, hot spurts of semen flooded inside you, filling you up the very first time. he kept thrusting through it, pushing his cum deeper. 

one night stand—this won’t ruin anything for sunghoon.

right?

——

“so,” jay started, leaning back against the railing with that smirk of his, “valentine’s next week. you guys already got plans locked in?” 

jake nodded, smiling. “don’t even say it. i booked the restaurant last month because i know she’ll kill me if i forget. we’ll probs just have dinner together.” he shook his head, sipping his canned beer. “gotta keep the girlfriend happy, right?”

sunghoon took a slow sip of his as well, shrugging and unbothered as ever. “i’ll probably just take sooha out on a breakfast and shopping. i got plans that night.” 

jay raised an eyebrow, turning to him with curiousity. “oh? what are you doing that night?”

he didn’t even flinch, just stared down at the small puddle of water around the can opening where his mouth kissed it. “bringing yeji out,” he said, absentmindedly swirling the alcohol in the can. “she’s been begging me to take her out. figured valentine’s night is as good as any.”

jake let out a laugh, completely buying it. “damn, she’s gonna milk you dry.” he commented, then glanced at jay from where he’s sitting. “what about you? something big again?”

“nah, think minji wants something intimate this time.” he hummed, looking out at the yard—people were chatting, dancing, and drunk to their heads. “maybe i’ll cook and we’ll spend the day at mine. who knows.” 

“what a romance.”

the three of them continued talking easily—hopping from one topic to another—arguing whose girlfriend was more demanding, whose more whipped, and reminiscing about things they’ll never get back. 

none of them even knew that they each shared the same secret—and little did they know, she was walking around the party downstairs right under their noses. 

down in the crowded kitchen, you leaned against the counter, red cup in hand, while heeseung stood in front of you—close enough that his arm rested on the counter beside your waist. 

“oh, i don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, taking a small sip from your cup while holding his gaze. heeseung grinned, leaning in a little closer and lowering his voice so only you could hear him over the loud music. 

“good. because i’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. you’re always so hard to catch alone.” his fingers lightly tapped the counter next to your hip. “what do you say? let me take you somewhere nice this valentines?”

you bit your lip, pretending to think about it—

but before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the noise. 

“yn?” 

sunghoon.

he was frowning. the usual expression on his face didn’t change much except for the tightness of his jaw, and the way his gaze flicked to heeseung’s hand near your hip.

heeseung turned his head, still smiling. “oh, hey man—”

sunghoon didn’t let him finish.

without a word, he reached out, wrapped his fingers around your waist and firmly pulled you away from the counter and away from heeseung. “come with me,” he said quietly, already leaving the kitchen.

you barely had time to shoot heeseung an apologetic smile before sunghoon guided you through the crowd, up the stairs, and into one of the empty guest rooms on the second floor. he closed the door—but didn’t lock it—the party noise instantly muffled.

“the fuck was that?” he asked, frowning and confused. “heeseung? really? you let him get that close to you?”

sunghoon took a step closer, towering over, eyes narrowed. 

“i thought we had an understanding,” he continued, laced with unfair possessiveness. “you didn’t even tell me you’d be here—then i caught you with some dude flirting?” 

before you could form a reply, his hand came up to grip your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you couldn’t wait till i take you out on valentines?”

you looked up at him, a scoff escaped you—and a small smile tugged at your lips. “so you can have fun with sooha… but i can’t do the same with heeseung?”

his jaw tightened; and for a second, he just stared at you, thumb brushing over your lower lips. he let out a low, breathy scoff, almost a laugh—but there was no humour in it. “you’re really testing me,” he murmured, clicking his tongue.

“sooha’s my girlfriend. she gets breakfast and shopping because that’s what keeps everything quiet. you…” he paused, free hand slid down to your waist where he squeezed the flesh. “you get me at night. isn’t that better? i’m about to fuck you all night and you’re gettin’ jealous over some fucking breakfast?”

he tilted your head slightly, fingers digging into your flesh. 

“don’t compare yourself to her. and don’t let another guy put his hands near you again.”

he crashed his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss, gripping your jaw tighter as he devoured your mouth. the kiss was messy and intense—tongues sliding, teeth grazing, low groans between you.

you kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his hair and tugging hard, making him groan into your mouth.

“fuuuccckkk,” he grunted between the kiss—turning and walking you backwards until your legs hut the edge of the bed. without breaking the kiss, sunghoon pushed you down onto the mattress and climbed on top of you, body pressing into the sheets. 

his hands roamed greedily—one sliding under your dress to grip your thigh, the other pinning your wrists above your head. “oh my, hngh,” you moaned softly, arching up into him as he ground his hips down against you. sunghoon bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue.

“always pissin’ me off—”

his phone suddenly started ringing on the nightstand.

sunghoon ignored it initially, lips moving down to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark as the ringing continued. “jesus—shut the fuck up…” he murmured, merely glancing at his phone. he assumed it was just one of his friends, or just anyone but—

“sunghoon, you in here—?”

jake’s voice died in his throat. jay stood right beside him, phone in his hand—both of them froze in the doorway, eyes wide as they took in the scene. 

you lying on the bed, dress hiked up, lips swollen from kissing. sunghoon on top of you, one hand under your dress, his lips glistened from saliva, hair messy from your fingers.

for a long, suffocating second, nobody moved. 

sunghoon’s head snapped up, eyes widening in genuine shock, his expression completely shattered—he was caught. fucking caught. by his own bestfriends. they weren’t supposed to fucking know that he’s not loyal to sooha. the same two guys he swore loyalty to since teenangers.

the colour drained from his face. 

jake and jay stared, wide–eyed, stunned. 

“...yn?” jake breathed out first, voice barely above a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. jay’s mouth opened, then closed—replaced by pure disbelief. instead of addressing the elephant in the room—which was sunghoon fucking cheating—your name came out first. 

the realisation hit them both at the same time—how the fuck did all of them came to know you? if jay knew you because of his affair, and jake knew you too—and sunghoon too—then were they all having an affair with you?

they’d been secretly fucking the same girl for months—?!

you, still pinned under sunghoon, felt your stomach drop.

“oh my fucking gosh…” you whispered, eyes wide, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you before you could stop it. you propped yourself up on your elbows, hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was useless. 

the shock, the absurdity, the fact that you had been playing all three of them without any of them knowing… it was all crashing down at once. 

sunghoon finally pulled his hand out from under your dress and sat up slightly. he looked between his two bestfriends, voice strained. “look—this isn’t what it looks like.”

jake let out a broken, disbelieving laugh. “you’re on top of her, dude.”

jay’s grip tightened—he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. 

“you.. and sunghoon?” his voice cracked. “how long has this been going on?”

the room was thick and silent for half a second.

then it clicked. 

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at jay—then slowly turned his head toward jake. the realisation hit him. “wait…” he muttered. “how the fuck do you know her?”

jake’s face went pale—he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “yeah… how do you know yn?”

jay’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, confusion turning into dawning horror. sunghoon sat up straighter, but not off you. all three boys were now staring directly at you.

“how do you know jay?”

“and how the hell do you know jake?”

“you and sunghoon—?”

now the focus shifted entirely on you.

you were still lying on the bed, dress rumpled, lips swollen, heart hammering in your chest. three pairs of eyes—shocked, jealous, and confused—were locked on you. 

“i—” 

you tried to sit up, tugging your dress down with shaky hands. “i—i didn’t know? ah, i swear… it just… happened? i mean—”

you were clearly flustered, words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i never thought—i didn’t know you guys knew each other—?”

before you could finish, jake reached behind him and closed the door with a soft click, locking the four of you inside. both of them walked closer to the bed, their expressions shifting from confusion to something more of—betrayal and disbelief.

jay ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short laugh. “wow… you’ve been fucking all of us?” his voice was low, eyes wide. “our own friend group?”

why didn’t they blame each other—? you thought, swallowing the lump in your throat. you guys were the asshole cheaters in the first place! so they could cheat on their girlfriends, but god forbids a girl have fun with multiple guys?

“have you been playing us the whole time? jake asked. “letting jay fuck you, me, now sunghoon pinning you down like that?”

just as you were about to open your mouth, sunghoon squished your cheeks together and slammed his lips against yours roughly—teeth clashing and grazing your lips. you whimpered into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing his shirt. 

when sunghoon finally pulled back, you grasped for air. his thumb dragged across your botton lip. “there’s no point hiding anymore, is there?”

the tension snapped. 

jay moved first, climbing onto the bed and grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him. “c’mere, baby.” jake was right behind him, kneeling on your other side. sunghoon stayed where he was, between your knees, watching as his two bestfriends started touching you.

in seconds, your dress was being yanked up and over your head. hands were everywhere—jake’s mouth on your neck, jay’s hands squeezing your tits, sunghoon’s fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your legs. 

you were panting, head spinning from the sudden overload.

“look at her,” jay murmured, voice thick as he pinched your nipple, eliciting a moan. “pretty little side chick… been taking all three of us like a whore.” jake groaned, kissing down your chest. “and we thought we were the only ones… fuck, that’s so hot.”

sunghoon gripped your jaw again, turning your face toward him. “open your mouth.”

the second you did, and he kissed you again—rough and deep—while jay and jake worked together pleasing your tits. jay’s hand wandered along your tummy—down to your bare, wet cunt. 

his fingers slid between your folds, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. “shit, so soaked.”

“fuckin’ dripping for us already,” sunghoon said, moving to give jake a space to settle between your spread legs. “turn over,” sunghoon ordered, commanding as he grabbed your hips. “on your hands and knees now, c’mon.”

your body obeyed before your brain could catch up—which shocked jake a little since with him, you were never this obedient. you were flipped onto all fours in the middle of the bed, ass up, back arched, completely exposed.

jake gripped your asscheeks, spreading them wide enough as he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly from your clit, all the way up to your dripping hole. “fuck, taste s’good,” he moaned, his cock beneath his pants twitched. he dove back in, licking and sucking messily while jay knelt in front of you. he tilted your chin up, hard cock already freed from his pants, thick and leaking. 

“open that pretty mouth, baby.”

you parted your lips and he instantly pushed the head of his cock past them, sliding deep into your warm mouth with a satisfied groan. “oh, fuuuuck… your mouth always feels s’good…”

sunghoon stayed at your side, one hand already palming and stroking his cock while the other reached underneath to rub circles on your clit as jake french–kissed your pussy. “look at you,” sunghoon murmured. “what a slut… taking all taken men at once. this what you wanted, isn’t it?”

jake hummed against your pussy and you felt the curve of his mouth forming into a smile—the vibration making your thighs quiver. jay thrusted into your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. “been screwing each of us behind the other’s backs…” jay groaned, pushing deeper until you gagged. 

“greedy little girl.”

your muffled moan around jay’s cock was the only answer they needed. 

jake was the first to pull back from between your legs, shiny with your juices. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swimming with pure need. “i’m going first,” he said, settling behind you. “been dying to fuck you again since the last time.”

sunghoon and jay didn’t argue. they simply shifted positions.

jake moved behind you, gripping your hips tightly and lining up his hard cock with your dripping entrance. without any warning or heads up, he pushed in with one deep thrust—bottoming out in a single stroke. 

“oh, fuuuck…” he groaned aloud, head falling back as your tight walls clenched around him. “still so ’ tight… missed this pussy so much.” jake started thrusting—deep strokes that rocked your body forward.

at the same time, sunghoon knelt in front of you. he grabbed your hair gently but firmly, guiding your mouth to his cock. “open up,” he ordered quietly. you obeyed, lips parting as he slid his thick length into your mouth. sunghoon let out a groan, eyes half–lidded as he watched you take him inch by inch.

jay moved to your side, kneeling close enough that his cock was right next to your face. your hand instinctively wrapped around his length, stroking his wet cock while you sucked his best friend’s. 

the room filled with wet, porno sounds—jake’s hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you from behind, the slick sounds of your mouth working sunghoon’s dick, and your hand pumping jay’s length. every now and then, jake would slap you ass—gripping, squeezing, and spreading and watched as your asshole twitched. 

“aw, pretty baby,” jay grunted, wrapping his bigger hand around yours as he guided you through it out. “taking all three of us so well, mm? perfect girl.”

next to him, sunghoon scoffed. jake panted and runted like a dog—gripping your hips harder as he pounded into you. “oh—hah—you feel so good, oh fuck, i missed this so much—missed you so much.”

sunghoon glanced at jake before his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your head as he picked up his pace fucking your mouth. “that’s it… suck me just like that—how you’d do with all the other guys, babe.”

jay groaned, hips twitching into your fist. “yeah—? do you have other guys you’re fucking aside us, yn?”

you instantly shook your head as much as you could with sunghoon’s cock buried in your mouth, a desperate, muffled, “mm—mm” vibrating around him. 

“right,” sunghoon clicked his tongue. the memory of you getting hit on by heeseung playing in the back of his head. if you were able to hide jake and jay from him for months—who knew who else?

every thrust from jake pushed you forward onto sunghoon’s cock, forcing you to take him even deeper down your throat. you were gagging around him, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth but you kept sucking.

jake’s rhythm started to falter. his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully as he fucked you harder from behind. “hah—i’m close, oh god,” he groaned. “wanna fill you up—i can fill you up, right? hngh—you’ll let me?”

he slammed into you a few more times, deep and desperate, burying himself to the hilt. now—jay and sunghoon never knew jake was someone who’s into this but who were they to judge? the contrast between how you were with jake, sunghoon, and jay made them want to laugh.

with jay, you’re treated as the princess of the princess—sweet, gentle, kind words—like you’re the girlfriend. with jake, you got to order and command—and he’s always so fucking into being called a good boy. with sunghoon? with sunghoon—you’re the brat that needed some punishment. 

you nodded your head and that was all jake needed. 

“hah—cumming—” he rasped. you felt the first hot spurts of his cum flood deep inside you. the puppy boy kept grinding into you, milking every drop as he creampied you, his cock twitching. a low whine escaped your throat, muffled.

when jake finally pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaked from your cunt.

“next,” jake panted, voice hoarse as he moved aside.

they filled you onto your back. 

the player immediately took his place between your legs, but instead of fucking you missionary, he turned you slightly onto your side. he lifted your top leg, hooking it over his hip, and instantly slid his throbbing cock into your cum–filled cunt in one thrust. 

“ah—! jay!” you moaned aloud, followed by jay’s groan. the warmth from jake’s cum wasn’t helping the situation at all. it felt so fucking good. “she’s so slippery with your cum, jake… so filthy.”

he started fucking you from the side—deep, rolling thrusts that let him hit every sensitive spot. you’re beyond embarrassed at this point. your creamy pussy that gushes cum with each thrust, how exposed and bare and wet you were for the other two boys to see. 

you wondered if this was the consequences of your actions. 

jake moved up beside your head, still breathing hard. he groped your tits greeding—how he loved them—squeezing and kneading, pinching your sweaty nipples as he leaned down to kiss and bite along your neck.

‘hngh—yn, i love these so much,” he muffled, sucking and tugging at your boobs. “so soft, you’re so squishy.” 

sunghoon shifted to your other side, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. his tongue slid against yours while jay continued fucking you from the side, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into your creampied pussy filling the room.

sunghoon kissed you like he couldn’t bear not doing anything while the other two boys had their fun. he was almost annoyed and pissed that they just had to interrupt him having you all to himself earlier. 

“is this what you like?” jake murmured against your neck, his hands never stopping roaming. he groped your breasts, rolled your nipples between his fingers, then slid one hand down to rub your clit in lazy circles while jay thrusted into you. “taking jay’s dick right after i filled you up… you’re so hot, yn.”

“hngh—jay, oh fuck, you’re so big—” you moaned into sunghoon’s mouth in which he instantly shut you up. jay groaned, picking up the pace, hips snapping harder. “fuck. i can feel your cum every time i push in, jake. poor sweetheart, do you like this, baby?”

sunghoon pulled back from the kiss just enough to let you breathe, lips brushing yours. “answer him while he’s fucking you.”

your body trembled between the three guys as you answered: “yes, yes, yesyesyes—! i—i love all three of you, oh my fuck!” you cried out, chasing sunghoon’s lips as you began sucking his bottom lip. you moaned shamelessly into his mouth while jay’s cock dragged against your walls.  

“we love you too.”

behind you, jay smirked—and jake couldn’t help from smiling. 

“show us how much you love it, please?” jake murmured against your nipple, his fingers never slowing down—pressing and rubbing your clit. “squirt for us—make a mess all over jay’s dick.”

he began rubbing harder—and the pressure coiled fast. too fast.

before you knew it, your thighs started shaking uncontrollably. your back arched sharply as jake’s fingers and jay’s cock worked you together. “oh, i’m gonna—!”

you didn’t even get to finish. 

with a loud, broken cry, you squired around jay’s cock. clear fluid gushed out of you, soaking jay’s hips, the sheets, and jake’s hand. your whole body convulsed, pussy clenching and pulsing violently. 

“fuck—!” jay groaned, eyes rolling back as your walls squeezed him like a vice. the feeling of you squiring all over him while still full of jake’s cum pushed him over the edge. without any warning, he buried himself deep and came—thick ropes of cum shooting right inside. 

he kept grinding into you through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper as your squirt continued to leak around his cock. 

sunghoon watched the while thing, still kissing you through your high, swallowing every broken moan and whimper. 

when jay finally stilled, panting against your shoulder, the room was filled with heavy breathing and the obscene sound of cum and squirt dripping onto the sheets. jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your nipple while his fingers slowed on your oversensitive clit.

“good girl…” jay murmured, kissing your temple. “such a perfect girl.”

jay pulled out slowly, another mix of squirt and both their cum leaking out of your used cunt like whipped cream, jay smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. 

“my turn.”

sunghoon didn’t waste a single second.

he moved between your legs, pushing them wide open as he settled on top of you in full missionary, his frame caged you in, eyes locked onto yours that always made your tummy flip. without warning, he slid two fingers deep into your cum–filled pussy, curcling them instantly.

“hah—hoonie—!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as he started fingering you—fast and deep, wet sounds loud and filthy as he stirred jake and jay’s cum inside you. “feel that, babe? he muttered. “so full already—yet so slutty for more.”

he pumped his fingers harder, scissoring them, pushing the mixed loads deeper while his thumb rub your swollen clit. your legs trembled around him, overstimulation making tears prick.

only when you were whimpering and gasping did sunghoon finally pull his fingers out. he brought them up to your mouth.

“clean ‘em.”

you obediently opened your lips, sucking his fingers clean of the messy mix of cum while he watched. then, he lined up his thick, needy cock—and pushed into you in one deep thrust, slow enough to let you feel every inch and veins of him. 

a broken moan tore from your throat.

sunghoon bottomed out, holding your hips. “shit… so warm and wet,” he breathed, and began to move. his thrusts were hard and deliberate, hips snapping forward with every stroke, driving jake and jay’s cum even deeper.

he kept you in missionary the whole time—face to face, eyes locked, his body pressed flush against yours. one hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. the other slid up to wrap gently around your throat, holding you there.

“open your mouth.” 

you obeyed instantly, lips paring, tongue slightly out naturally.

sunghoon leaned in first. he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drop slowly onto your tongue, watching with a smirk as it landed right on your tongue. jake moved in simultaneously, hovering above you as he spat directly into your open mouth, a thick string of saliva mixing with sunghoon’s. jay too—tilted your head upward gently before spitting into your mouth as well. 

all three of their spit mixed together on your tongue—so fucking humiliating in the best way. 

“swallow, baby, c’mon,” jay murmured, kissing your cheek. sunghoon tightened his grip on your throat just a little, you swallowed the thick saliva, throat bobbing under his palm. the taste of all three of them made your pussy clench hard around sunghoon’s cock.

“fuck, she just squeezed me,” sunghoon groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. “such a nasty little cumslut.”

jake chuckled, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth as he palmed your tits. jay’s hand slid down to rub your clit as sunghoon pounded into you deeply—”nasty little girl, look at you,” jay murmured, caressing your hair.

“you love being used like this? who taught you to be so slutty, baby, hm?”

sunghoon’s eyes never left yours—your half–lidded, crossed, rolled to the back glossy eyes. he fucked you relentlessly, wet squelching sounds of his cock stirring the mixed cum inside you filling the room. his hand stayed around your throat as he fucked your cunt like a fleshlight, claming while jake had his fun with your tits, and jay continued teasing your clit from the side.

you were a complete mess—trembling, moaning, drooling… barely got to focus on the moving ceiling above. your tits bounced and jiggled with every thrust—a sight jake could cum alone. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grew sharper, deeper, and more desperate. his grip on you throat tightened just a fraction as he groaned against your lips. “fuck… ‘m cummin’—”

he straightened up, canines digging into his bottom lip as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. the hardest he’s ever ejaculated. thick, hot ropes of cum flooded and washed over deep inside you, mixing with the cum from jake and jay before. 

as usual, he kept grinding into you, pushing every drop as deep as possible while his cock twitched inside your overused, overfilled pussy.

at the same time, the two boys kneeled on either side of your head—jerking themselves off furiously above you, breathing heavily. “shit, shit, shit,” jay rasped, thick spurts of cum landing across your tits and collarbones. 

“oh, gosh, yn, please,” jake whimpered, following just right after as he painted your face and chest with more warm cum. their softened cocks rested on your chest, with jay’s twitching again as it rubbed your nipple.

you lay there, panting, body covered in their cum—tits glistening like you milked out semen, pussy leaking a creamy mix of all three of them, throat marked from sunghoon’s hands and jake’s bites, lips swollen from jay’s kisses. 

the room was silent except for heavy breathing and panting.

sunghoon pulled out—agonisingly slow—watching his thick cum drip and burst out from your stretched hole. fuck—what a sight, he thought. he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time. your pussy twitched and spasmed around nothing, thighs trembling with orgasm as you shivered. 

jay leaned to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. jake’s softened cock caressed your other cheek as the owner pumped the mixed cum back inside your puffy pussy with his fingers. sunghoon pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips. 

“you’re our secret girl now.”

you lay between them—as the three sworn, soulmates bestfriends who used to swear they had no secrets finally agreed on one secret: they would share their perfect little side chick—away from their girlfriends, and away from all the other guys out there.

[guliexe]

he’s the most perfect man ever my legs are spread 🙏🏻

[shyxcherry]

cherry coke | nicholas

summary: when you and your friend group go on vacation, you expect to have the time of your lives, and you do. but what you don't expect is having your long time crush to stick his tongue down your throat. if you only knew your party trick would've caused that, you would've done it way sooner.

pairing: nicholas x femaler!eader

warnings: fluff, slight angst, smut (oral (female recieving), unprotected sex, nicho wakes reader up sexually (not specifically said, but is consented), nicho calls reader just about every nickname imaginable, all &team members along with karina from aespa

word count: 10.4k

notes: i had way too much fun with this request!

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you let out a sigh as you throw yourself backwards on the bed. you feel the bed move before another body landed next to you. you look over to see karina on her phone, pulling out her phone before taking a photo of you two. once she snaps the photo, she throws her phone on the bed next to her before looking at you.

"words can't describe how ready i am to spend the next week here."

you and your friends were taking a well needed vacation. it took you guys a long time to figure out where you wanted to go, until karina brought up the beach. you were all in agreement, so you rented out a beach house large enough to fit the 11 of you.

you take a moment to look around the room. the color pallet was white with spashes of blue to tie in the beach that the house was on. you could hear the breeze from the ocean from the open door- along with the smell of sea salt. you felt peaceful just laying there in the bed you were sharing with karina.

"you and me both." you admit, rolling on your stomach, so you could look out the open door. "what's the plan, rina?"

"have fun. get tan. maybe drunk." you laughed as she listed off she wanted to do. "maybe get you a man to fall into bed with."

you grimace at the last sentence. "definitely not the last one."

"i'm sorry. let me rephrase that... i'm getting you a man." you laugh at her before sticking by your original statemet.

"i don't want a one night stand."

"is that because you don't want anyone who's not nicho?" karina asks, raising her eyebrows teasingly. you slap her arm as your cheeks heat up.

"we're just friends."

she rolls her eyes. "friends my ass. that's like saying this beach doesn't have any sand."

"it's true." you admit before deflecting. "we need to get ready before the guys come barging in."

"we're not done with this conversation." you hear karina yell as you close the bathroom door.

you couldn't help but think of your red headed friend as you got ready. you two have been friends for about 2 years- having been introduced by karina. he's become one of you closest friends, but there was one issue. you had a massive crush on him. how could you not when he was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen?

then came the affection. he was overly affectionate with you. he has been that way since the two of you became friends. he always had his hands on you in some way. if you two were standing next to each other, his arm was thrown around your shoulder. if you were sitting next to each other, his had would be on your thigh.

you can't forget the teasing as well. he always gave you teasing remarks which often times still render you speechless. between his touches, teasing, and the looks he gives you, it didn't take you long to fall for him. you were better now at hiding it, but you still became embarrassed quickly by his affection. at least now you were able to tolerate it and not push him away like you used to. you were even able to return it at times and shock him as well.

you put on the cute white sundress karina let you borrow before walking out of the bathroom. karina was wearing a similar sundress, but hers was long while yours was short. you were applying perfume when you heard a knock on your door. karina walks over and opens the door, revealing the red hair man who was overtaking your thoughts.

"hey, elmo." karina greets, moving away from the door to finish getting ready. "is everyone ready?"

"almost, just waiting on you two and k." nicholas responds as he walks in before sitting on the bed. karina watches him as he watches you with a smile on her face. you were putting on ear rings and completely unaware of him. she walked over, flicking his ear and making him glare at her before getting your attention.

"well, i'm done. what about you, yn?"

you look up at karina's question before nodding. "i just got to grab my shoes. i'll meet you down there."

as soon as karina leaves the room, you move away from the mirror to go and grab your shoes. but when you turn, you're greeted by nicholas who was standing in front of you. he put out his arms to block you from moving before bending down to your height.

"i don't even get a hello, pretty girl?" he ask, mock hurt on his face.

"hi, elmo." you mock karina's nickname of him since he dyed his hair. you laughed as he scoffed. he moved his arms from the wall to around your waist before pulling you into his arms.

"try again."

you tried to pull away from him. "i have to finish getting ready."

"then you better greet me right, baby." you roll your eyes at his demand.

"hi, nicho." you greet properly, but he still doesn't let you go. you look up to see him smiling at you before he shakes his head, signaling that's not what he wanted. "hi, weno."

"good girl." you blushed as he pulled away from you. he grabbed your shoes before motioning you to sit on the bed. you do as he says, and he kneels down to put your shoes on for you. you try to pull away when he runs his hand down your leg, but he grips your ankle to keep you still. "patience, baby."

you chuckle as he finishes. "have you met our friends? i'm shocked yuma hasn't started yelling yet."

"hey lovebirds!" you hear yuma scream from downstairs and proving your point. "stop making out! i'm hungry."

"told you." you smile, standing up before moving. you grab your phone before leaving the room. you could hear nicholas walking behind you as you walked down the stairs. you met yuma's scowling gaze with a smile. "sorry, yuma. i didn't realize i was taking so long to get ready."

"i guess i'll forgive you." he told you as he returned your smile. "you look pretty by the way."

"thank you."

you moved to follow yuma, but was pulled back into nicholas' chest. you look up to see him glaring at yuma before staring down at you. "you're riding with me, babe."

"i figured." you wink, leaving him stunned as you walk out the front door. you walk over to the car before you realized something. you were sitting in the very back and had to climb over the middle seat. with the dress you were wearing, you were going to flash someone.

you jump when you feel hands on the bottom of your dress. you see nicholas standing behind you holding your dress down. "climb in. i've got you."

you nodded, fully trusting him to keep your dress down as you got in the car. he kept his hands on your dress until you were seated fully. you fixed your dress before scooting over, so he could seat next to you. you thanked him after he had got settled in next to you.

"no need to thank me, love. don't need people seeing what's mine anyway." you slap his hand when he pinches your thigh.

the rest of you get into the car before you guys take off to the restaurant harua picked out. it was about a 10 minute drive, and the restaurant was on the beach itself. from the photos you saw, it was an open setting with even some tables on the beach. you all agreed for a balcony table though when they booked it.

after you guys had parked, nicholas got out first before turning to help you again. he held onto your dress and didn't let go until your feet were on the ground. he then blocked you from everyone while you fixed your dress again.

he held your hand, intertwining your fingers as you all walked into the restaurant. the two of you sat together at the long table for all of you. the sun was starting to set, giving the ocean a warm glow. it was something that looked like it belonged on a post card. nicholas let you lean over him so you could take a photo.

"take one of us, pretty." you do as he says, flipping the camera before taking a photo of the two of you. he held out his hand for your phone. he looked at the photo before sending it to himself. "we look good together."

you felt your face flush, but didn't respond because the server came to take your drink orders. some of the guys ordered alcohol, but you were a big alcohol drinker, so you ordered a cherry coke. when they gave it to you, you were shocked to see it came with actual cherries. you had just grabbed one and ate it when karina got your attention.

"yn do the thing!" she exclaimed, making everyone look between you two. you roll your eyes at her, wishing she hadn't seen the cherries.

"do what thing?" taki asked.

karina motioned to the stem that was still in your hand. "yn can tie a knot in the stem with her tongue."

"no way!" taki exclaimed before turning to you. "you have to do it."

you let out a sigh, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you place the cherry stem in your mouth. once you had tied it, you stuck out your tongue to show everyone and shocking everyone. you put the stem on a napkin as you watch taki and k try to do it with the cherries from their drinks.

"i didn't know you could do that." you look over at nicholas' words before shrugging.

"it's just some lame party trick. it's nothing special."

nicholas pulled the other cherry out of your drink, eating the cherry before handing you the stem. "do it again."

you hold your hand out for the stem, but he held it up to your lips instead. you open your mouth and let him place the stem on your tongue before you tied it into a knot for him. you take the stem out of your mouth when it was tied before showing him again. he took the stem from you, examining it before turning to you with a look you couldn't understand.

"i'm interested to see what else this pretty mouth can do."

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you let out a low groan as karina's alarm went off. you smacked her, successfully waking her up, so she could turn her phone off. once she did, you rolled over, pulling the sheets over you head to go back to sleep as she did the same. and since the two of you were half asleep, you didn't hear the door open.

all you heard was a laugh that you were pretty sure was taki's before someone climbed on the bed. the two of you jump when taki starts jumping on the bed.

"get up!" he yells. "we're going to the amusement park today."

"how could we forget? it's not like you haven't shut up about it for the last 2 weeks." you say as you remove the blanket from your head.

he still didn't stop jumping causing you to grab your pillow before throwing it at him. it hit him in the face, making him to lose his balance. he tripped over karina's leg causing him to fall on top of you. you yell in pain as he lands on top of you. he straddles your legs as he pulls himself up.

"i'm so sorry, yn." he apologized. "i didn't hurt you, did i?"

you shake your head. "it's okay, taki."

"i'm not." karina pouted as she sat up before rubbing her leg. "you stepped on me."

"i'm sorry, rina."

"what are you doing on top of her?" taki nearly jumps out of his skin at nicholas' voice. you turn your head to see him glaring at taki. taki held up his hands in surrender before gently climbing off of you.

"it was their fault."

"our fault?" you exclaim. "you came in her at 7 in the morning and started jumping on the bed."

"you two were still asleep. even k is up already." taki told you. at that moment, k walked by clearly still half asleep.

"unwillingly." he grumbled as he walked by.

nicholas moved into the room, wrapping his arm around taki as he led him out. "let's leave the girls alone, so they can get ready."

the two of you watch the door shut, already having a feeling on what was going to happen. you heard taki yell before taking off down the hallway- nicholas chasing after him.

"i'm sorry! i won't touch her again!"

"jealous boy." karina said as she rubbed at her face. "and you still think he doesn't have feelings for you."

you unplug your phone before sitting up. "what if it's just an act? you know he loves teasing everyone, you included."

"it's not. you didn't see the way he looked at you last night after the whole cherry stem thing. he looked like he wanted to shove his tongue down your throat." you choked at her words, face turning red at the thought.

"then what is he waiting for?" you ask. karina thinks about it for a moment before she steps into the bathroom.

"that i don't know." she said before she closed the door.

you brushed her words aside as you got up to get ready. he wouldn't have kept up with the teasing for so long if he liked you back. he probably just likes the reaction from you, along with the attention.

you put on a pair of shorts and a frilly top that hung off your shoulders. you paired it with the shoes from last night along with a necklace nicholas got you for your birthday last year. it was a simple gold chain with a n, and he had the matching one with your initial.

after you fixed your hair and makeup, you go downstairs where some of the guys were attempting to make breakfast. it was really just k cooking while he yelled at the others for being in his way.

"oh my god." k groaned, pushing a laughing ej out of his way. "just get out. i'll cook by myself."

"i'll help." k lights up at your offer.

"i'll love you forever."

"hey!" you roll your eyes as you hear nicholas yell at k.

you push past ej before helping k finish breakfast. the two of you didn't do much- just eggs, bacon, and toast. you two didn't make that much because you know that you were going to eat plenty at the park. you just made enough to hold you over with the 2 hour ride.

you had just finished the eggs when an arm wrapped around your waist. you didn't even question it as you turn the stove off. "good morning, weno."

"morning baby." he greeted, resting his head on your shoudler. "why don't you go sit down? i'll make you a plate."

you turn to look at him. "you sure?"

he nodded, pushing you out of the kitchen. you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before you went to sit down at the table where the guys were already eating. after he brought you a plate, you two sat quietly as nicholas was still sleepy. you just listened to taki go on about all of the rides he wanted to go on today.

after everyone was done, maki offered to wash the dishes while everyone finished getting ready. once everyone was ready, you all hopped into the car. it didn't take but 5 minutes for nicholas to rest his head on your shoulder, so he could take a nap on the way there.

you woke him up when you guys pulled into the parking lot. he stretched as you fixed his messed up hair. "rest well, sleeping beauty?"

"i did." he answered with a chuckle. "you're a good pillow. i need to sleep with you more often."

you nearly drop your phone in shock at his words. "you can't say things like that, weno."

"i can't help myself. not when you look so pretty when you blush." you slap his hand away when he pinches your cheek.

"get out of the car before i push you out."

"bossy." he mused as he got out. "i like that."

you let out a deep breath before following him out of the car. you stepped away from him and walking towards karina, needing a break before he breaks you. her locks her arm around yours as you start following the guys.

"is he already acting up?" karina questioned.

"of course he is." you grumble. "this man is going to be the death of me."

"i'll make sure there's no roses at your funeral." you laugh at karina's words.

you all got in line, pulling out the tickets on your phones as you passed the entrance. as soon as you stepped through, you already noticed that taki and yuma were gone. everyone started to split into their own groups- either going on rides or going to eat.

"are you hungry, pretty?" nicholas asked as he walked up to you. you shake your head.

"not yet. are you?"

he shook his head before he held out his hand for you to take. "lets go, baby."

you grabbed his hand as the two of you started exploring the park. the two of you mostly walked around, riding a few rides that caught your attention. you were looking around when you saw someone walking around with cotton candy causing you to stop.

nicholas turned when you pointed. "i want some cotton candy."

you couldn't see where the place was. nicholas made you stay where you were while he went to go ask them where they got it. he took your hand when he came back to you before you follow him. the line wasn't very long, and the two of you were quickly next in like when an older couple walked by you.

"you two are such a cute couple." the two of you turn towards the couple. you smile, moving to open your mouth when nicholas wrapped his arm around you.

"thank you. isn't she beautiful?"

you felt your face blush in embarrassment. "why did you say that? we're not dating."

"well duh, but they don't know that." he shrugged. "no harm. no foul right."

you felt your heart drop at his comment. you felt like he just completely brushed you off. you shuffle on your feat as you pull away from him some. you felt like you were right. he didn't like you. he just enjoyed the attention you gave him.

you were next in line, and even though you didn't want the cotton candy anymore, you still ordered the flavor you wanted. you already had the money out and paid for it before nicholas could. you then watched quietly as made it, quiet aware that nicholas was staring at you.

"you okay?" you hum at his question.

"i want to go off on my own for a bit." you tell him. you watch him as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"you can't go off by yourself."

"why not?" you question. you look away, smiling at the man when he hands you the container of cotton candy before stepping away from the stand. "you really can't tell me what to do because like you said. you're not my boyfriend or anything."

nicholas lets out a sigh as he understands what your talking about. you fully realize that you're feelings were now out in the open, but you didn't care. not anymore. "i didn't mean it like that, pretty. i-"

"don't bother." you stop him. you glance behind him to see ej and jo standing in a food line. " there's ej and jo. why don't you go hang out with them? i'll find something else to do."

"wait, yn!"

you moved away from him, walking away but stopping when you heard your name. you turn around to look at him one last time. "don't worry, nicholas. i'll be fine. no harm. no fowl right?"

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you walked around for a bit before you ran into karina and k. the two of them wanted to leave early because k still needed to go to the store to pick up stuff for your guys cook out tonight. so the three of you along with harua, maki, and fuma, left early. you didn't even tell nicholas you were leaving, nor did you answer his text. he found out from karina through the group chat when he asked if anyone had seen you.

"trouble in paradise?" karina asked as the two of you walked through the aisle of the store. you grab a bag of ramen before throwing it in the cart.

"i don't know, rina. i maybe am just being dramatic." you answer before going into details on what happened.

"no harm. no fowl." karina scoffed at the end of your story. "he really doesn't think before he opens his mouth. never has."

"so, i'm not being dramatic?" karina shook her head at your question.

"oh, i would've reacted so much worse than you. i would've thrown that cotton candy at his head." you laugh at karina's words. before you could respond, k and harua walked up with handfuls of meat and other ingredients.

"you did not get cherries!" you exclaim as k sets the cherries in the basket. he bumps your shoulder, pushing you out of the way so he could push the cart.

"of course i did. you're teaching me how to do that trick."

"i don't even know how i do it." you tell him. "i just do."

"well, you're going to be annoyed by me because i'm not giving up until i figure it out." you let out a groan as he starts to check everything out.

"this is going to be a long vacation."

the four of you check out before leaving the store. the guys got the bags in the car before you drove back to the beach house. as soon as you guys got home and brought to groceries to the outside cooking area, fuma and k passed out on the couch. harua went up to his room to nap while you and karina laid down on one of the large bean bags that easily fit the two of you.

you laid your head on karina's shoulder while the two of you watched tic toks on her phone until you fell asleep. karina fell asleep not long after you, and the four of you stayed asleep until the rest of the guys came home. you woke up as soon as you heard taki's loud voice, but kept your eyes closed, pulling the blanket to cover your face.

"oh shit." you heard taki quiet down. "they're asleep. we need to be quiet."

"you wouldn't know how to be quiet if it smacked you in the face." maki commented on his way to his room.

"i do too." taki complained as he followed maki.

you heard k yawn before sitting up. "what time is it?"

"a little after five." nicholas answered. you peaked your head out to see his back turned towards you. "you guys been here long?"

"about two hours." he responded.

you shift, laying on your back and seeing jo standing in front on you. you straighten out your leg and gently kick the back of his knee. you laugh as he almost loses his balance, slapping your leg after he regains it. he sticks his tongue out at you which you return before holding out your hands.

"help me up, jojo." jo grabs your hands before pulling you up. you grab your phone before turning to k. "let me get changed, and we can start cooking."

"why do you need to get changed?" jo asked as you walked away.

"because i want to go swimming after we eat."

"me too!" you heard karina exclaim before getting out of the bean bag before running after you. once the two of you are in your room, karina closes the door. "you better wear that black bathing suit that makes you look like a goddess. we have a mission to accomplish."

"and what's that?" you ask as you pull out the swimsuit.

"operation make elmo lose his mind." you laugh at her answer.

"what are you going to call him when he dyes his hair?" you move into the bathroom to change. you put on the swimsuit before putting on a cover up.

"i'll think of something."

once the two of you are changed, you go back downstairs and help k start cooking. apparently everyone got the idea to go swimming because yuma and taki were already in the ocean by the time you two got out there. some of the other guys were playing volleyball, but you couldn't find nicholas or ej.

you jump when you feel an arm drape over your shoulder. you look up to see maki smiling down at you. he bends down to speak to you in a hushed tone. "so apparently, nicho's an idiot, and ej's trying to help him fix it."

"is that so?" you question, pretending you didn't know what he was talking about. "what did he do this time?"

"open his big mouth." harua answered as he walked by making the two of you laugh.

you pull away from maki as you start making the food. k was in charge of grilling the meat, karina was in charge of ramen, and you were in charge of grilling vegetables. you did notice ej and nicholas finally come out of the house, both in swimsuits as well.

you could feel nicholas' eyes on you, but you refused to engage with him. instead, you engage with k- telling him some stupid story from when you were a kid. he laughed, nearly falling into you as he did so and wrapping an arm around you to keep him steady.

once the food was done, the three of you set everything up on the table before k called everyone to come eat. karina grabbed your arm, pulling you to sit in between her and maki.

"sorry elmo." karina apologized, but her smile said otherwise. "yn's mine tonight."

you kept your head down, avoiding looking down the table where nicholas was as everyone sat down. everyone dug in, eating as they talked. you were continuously pulled into conversation with maki and fuma as the three of you talked about some weird conspiracy theory maki found on the internet.

"who made this?" taki asked, pointing to one of the dishes you made.

"i did." you answered. "do you like it?"

he took another bite before gasping dramatically. "i love it. i need to come live with you, so you can cook for me everyday."

"i would lose my mind if you came to live with us." karina spoke up. "besides, you act like she doesn't go to your guys and help k cook almost every other day."

"it's not enough." taki grumbled, pouting from karina's insult.

everyone had just finished eating when you remembered something. "oh, i bought popsicles if anyone wants any."

"yn, you're the best." yuma groaned, quickly getting up and grabbing one, but not before placing a kiss on the top of your head as he walked by. you looked up before meeting karina's eyes as she tried to stop laughing.

"did you tell them to do something?" you whisper to her. "they're all being really sweet and touchy."

she shook her head. "i swear i didn't. it's like they read my mind though. you should see the look on his face. he is livid."

"you're ridiculous." you roll your eyes. "do you want to go swimming now?"

"yes!" you hear taki yell as he answered the question meant for karina. "let's all go swimming."

"you heard the kid." k commented, deciding to clean everything up later.

you slip off your cover up, laying it on the back of the chair before you step off the deck. you make your way down the beach before dipping your foot in the water. "it's cold."

"that's why you got to run in." taki commented, walking up next to you. you turn when you hear karina scream. she was thrown over maki's shoulder before he ran into the water. you laughed as he launched himself and her under the water. "your turn."

"taki no!" you yell but it was to late. you were thrown over taki's shoulder as he ran into the water as well. as soon as he was deep enough, he threw you off of his shoulder into the cold water. you hold your breath as you land in the water, gasping when you reached the surface. "you jerk!"

you slash water at him which turns into a splash contest when he splashes you back. yuma ends up joining you while harua joins taki. it ended when you two swam over and jumped taki and harua. taki admitted defeat when you dunked him into the water.

"yn!" you look over when you hear karina yell your name. she was on top of fuma's shoulders. "come play chicken."

you agree before swimming over. "who's shoulder's am i getting on?"

"mine." k speaks up from behind you. he grabs your waist, lifting you up before putting you on his shoulders. "you better not lose."

"then hold onto me."

k held your thighs as jo counted down from three. when he hit one, karina made the first move. you laugh as you grab her arms before pushing her. she almost fell but caught herself at the last second. but before she could pull herself up, you pushed her again, causing fuma to lose his balance. you and k cheered when they fell.

"who's up next?" k yelled, hyped up on the win. "we're unstoppable."

to your surprise, you were unstoppable for two more rounds. you won against taki and harua before maki took you down. after that you and karina swam for a bit before going back up to the beach house. you put your cover back on before sitting on the steps as you watched the guys continue to play in the water.

k and fuma were still playing chicken with taki, yuma, and harua. the rest of the guys were playing with the football in sand. you let your eyes roam over nicholas because he wouldn't notice you since he was so immersed in the game. he had a bright smile on his face as he tackled ej who had the football.

"you okay?" karina asks as she sits next to you. you nod your head at her answer.

"i'm really glad you thought of this, rina." you smiled at her. she smiled back, moving over to rest her head on your shoulder.

"me too."

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you and karina sat on the steps for a little while longer before you headed up to bed early. as soon as you stepped out of the shower, karina came in, yawning about how the guys wanted to watch a movie, but she didn't.

you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. you slept late the next morning since none of you had any official plans until tonight. you were woken up when you heard a knock on the door.

"if it's taki go away." karina groaned.

"it's not." harua said. "can i come in?"

"sure." you answer.

harua proceed to come in and sit on your bed. he said he wanted to go to one of the local malls, but only him and maki wanted to go. neither one of them could drive, so they wanted to see if you guys would come with them since you both could drive.

you both agreed, wanting to get out of the house. it also helped that harua said he would buy you two breakfast on the way there. the two of you quickly got ready before meeting them at the car.

you guys stayed at the mall for a majority of the afternoon. you and karina spent most of the time looking for a dress to wear for tonight. it was some sort of beach party that yuma found. you had already had something you were going to wear, but the karina said you needed something sexier because she was still on her 'mission.'

by the time you guys got back, the rest of them went ahead to the beach party. the four of you quickly got ready before you headed that way. karina convinced you to curl your hair and go a little more dramatic with your makeup. that along with your short dress, you almost didn't recognize yourself.

karina walked down the stairs first causing harua to whistle. "rina, you look great!"

"thank you!" she smiled before you came down the stairs. "but wait until you see my gorgeous best friend."

both of their jaws dropped when they seen you. you shuffle, thinking maybe it was too much, but then harua spoke up. "you look stunning."

"thanks." you blush.

"nicho is going to lose his mind." maki commented. "i'm going to film his reaction."

you laugh as you guys pile into the car. one you guys got there, you and karina made the decision to leave your shoes in the car. the party was on the beach, and neither one of you felt like dealing with sand in your shoes.

you gave maki the keys to put in his pocket before you head over to where the loud music was. the place looked even better than it did with the photos. there were string lights guiding the way to the beach. once on the beach, there were tiki torches giving off light. there was a dj playing music for what seemed like at least 100 people as they danced in the sand.

"look who finally decided to show up." yuma makes his presence known. he threw his arm around karina's and harua's shoulders. "come on. i'll show you guys where we're at."

you follow after yuma as he leads you to one of the open huts. most of the guys were there, and the rest were dancing. you noticed that all of the guys had a drink in their hand, except for nicholas. you let your eyes roam his body. he wasn't wearing anything fancy. just a black tank top with a pair of shorts, but he still looked so good just sitting there.

"look who i found." yuma called out, getting the guys attention. you met nicholas' dark gaze for a second before getting distracted and looking away to look at yuma. he threw his arm around you and karina. "trash."

you and karina both simultaneously pinched his sides making him jump in surprise. yuma smacks your hands before moving away from you two. "i'm just kidding."

"you better. i look way too good to be called trash." karina says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "anyway, where's the bar."

"over there." k pointed.

"perfect. let's go, babe." karina grabbed your arm before pulling you towards the bar. "i'm such a genius. did you see the way he was looking at you? i need someone to look at me like that."

"fuma does, but you're not ready for that conversation apparently." you tell her as you walk up to the bar.

"he does not." she says with blush on her face. she then turns to the bar. "can i get 2 shots and 2 margaritas?"

they set down 2 shot glasses and filling them before getting your other drinks. you didn't even hesitate to grab a glass before taking it, chasing it with the margarita.

"atta girl." karina cheers before taking her shot. you two didn't even ask, but the bartender walked over and refilled your shot glasses. "this place is great. we need to live here."

the two of you took one more shot before karina dragged you out to dance. you let loose, dancing with her along with some other people as well. taki joined the two of you for a dance, even though he just jumped around the whole time. karina left after that to grab another drink, but you chose to keep dancing.

you jump when you feel arms wrap around your waist before pulling you to them. you try to move so you could pull away, but stop when they whispered in your ear. "it's just me, baby."

"nicho?" you say. you can feel the vibration of him humming as his lays his head on your shoulder. you feel his hand move from your waist, brushing down your hip before grazing the bottom of your dress.

"you're killing me in this dress, baby." he whispers in your ear before placing a kiss right below it. "i haven't been able to take my eyes off of you all night."

"is that so?" you ask, sighing when he kisses your neck again. you arch your back, running your ass over his growing erection. his grip tightens on your waist as you do so.

"fuck baby."

you turn in his arms and see his eyes closed before he opens them, dark gaze staring back at you. you brush his hair out of his face before speaking. "maki's got the keys. you still owe me an apology." you then stand on your toes, nose brushing against his making his eyes widen. "and if your apology is good enough, i may let you see what's underneath this dress."

you pull away from him before walking away from him. on your way to the car, you pull out your phone and text karina that you were heading back. she started complaining until you told her who was joining you. you had just reached the car when the doors unlocked. you smirk, opening the door before sliding in when nicholas gets in.

the two of you stayed quiet the whole way back. you kept your window down, tracing patterns in the wind as music played from the radio. as soon as you got back, you rolled up the window before getting out of the car. nicholas watched watched as you climbed the stairs, but instead of going inside, you went around to the balcony.

by the time he found you, you were sitting on the couch looking out at the ocean. he went over to the outside fridge to get you two a drink before coming to sit next to you. his leg brushes against yours as he sits down. he hands you the cup, and you take a sip before sitting it down.

nicholas sits his drink down on the arm of the couch before speaking. "yn, i'm sorry. i didn't meant to hurt you. i thought it come out teasingly, like always. i didn't mean for it to come off like it did. the last thing i every want to do was hurt you."

"what am i to you, nicho?" nicholas turns to look at you at the question. "am i your friend? am i more? we're in this weird in between state, and i'm tired of it. i'm tired of..."

you trail off, hesitating on finishing your sentence. "tired of what, baby? talk to me."

"i'm tired of it feeling like you only tease me for my reactions. like you don't do it because you actually want to fall through with them. you just like to because of the attention i give you." you hated saying it, but you needed him to know how you were feeling. you couldn't keep doing whatever the two of you were doing because it was hurting you.

"look at me." you hesitate, so nicholas grips your chin before making you look at him. "don't get me wrong. i do love teasing you, and i love your attention. if it were up to me, i would be the only person you'd give attention to. but that's not why i do it, and i'm so sorry i made you feel that way."

"then why do you do it?"

"because i love seeing that you want me just as much as i want you." your eyes widened at his words. his hand brushed your cheek right under your eye. "whenever you look at me like this with these beautiful eyes, i'm putty in your hands. anything you want me do, just look at me like this, and i'll do it."

his hand moved, brushing against your bottom lip. "and god, don't even get me started on this mouth. it hasn't left my mind since the other night."

you tilt your head a little confused, not remembering what could've brought that on. it wasn't until he turned, grabbing his drink and pulling out a cherry that it made sense. "i should've showed you that trick months ago then."

"you should've." he agreed before putting the cherry up to your mouth.

you could feel the air shift around you as you eat the cherry. his eyes watched your mouth, unblinking as you chewed the cherry. the hand that had the cherry stem stayed by your mouth, brushing the stem along your lips as he waited for you to swallow. his eyes trailed down to your neck when you swallowed.

you opened your mouth again, holding out your tongue. his eyes met yours when you took the cherry stem from him. you kept eye contact as you tied a knot in the stem, sticking your tongue out when you finished. he looked down, grabbing the stem before you put your tongue back in your mouth.

he practically threw his drink as he cupped your face, pulling your lips to his. you moan against his lips when he kisses you. your lips dance against his as you grab his shoulders. you push him back on the couch before straddling his waist. his tongue slips past your lips as his hands explore your body.

you pull his hair, causing him to groan in your mouth when he squeezes your ass. you shift your hips, grinding down on him. he pulls away from you, throwing his head back as you keeping moving your hips. you could feel his erection pressing against your leg. he trailed his hands lower, disappearing under your dress when his eyes flew open.

"baby." when you smirk at his questioning tone, he lets out a groan. "you're not wearing underwear, are you?"

you shook your head. "the dress is too tight. you'd see them."

"fuck."

he suddenly stands up causing you to gasp at the thought of falling, but he had a grip on you, preventing you from doing so. you tighten your legs around him as he carries you to your room. he kicks open the door, shutting it before locking it.

he walks the two of you over the bed before laying you down, him hovering over you. you grab the back of his neck, so you could pull him down and kiss him. his lips were soft as they glided over yours like you've been dreaming of.

his hands grip the edge of your dress, pulling it up and exposing your bottom half. you pull away from his lips before tugging at his shirt. he sits up pulling his shirt off while you do the same to your dress. he sits back on his knees as you lay back down, fully exposed to him. his eyes slowly trace over your body like he was trying to memorize it.

"you are the most beautiful woman i've ever seen." you blush at the compliment. he leans back down in between your legs, kissing your red cheek before your lips. "i want to take my time with you, but i don't think i'm patient enough."

you nod your head in agreement. "i need you, nicho."

"i know baby." he kissed your lips one last time before he started kissing down your neck. "i'm going to take care of you."

his lips trailed down your neck and chest before stopping at your breast. he wasted no time latching on to your breast, sucking harshly. you arch into his touch, gripping his shoulders at his touch. he switches between your breasts, sucking and biting until you were squirming underneath him.

he finally leaves your breast with a deep chuckle after you beg him for relief. his lips start to trail down your stomach as he makes his way down to your heat. he kisses right above your clit before pausing. you look down to meet his lust filled gaze.

"tell me pretty. how many times have you thought of this?" you laugh at his question.

"of course you would pause to ask that." you mutter causing him to laugh.

"i'm not going to continue unless you answer me."

you let out a sigh. "everyday honestly. especially when you wouldn't shut up with the teasing."

"oh, so you just imagined me doing something more productive with my lips?" you roll your eyes at his question. "well, now i'll never shut up in hopes you'll tell me to do this."

"there's one issue with that." you mumble, tensing when his tongue darts out and tastes you. he doesn't go any further, waiting for you to continue your sentence. "please do something, nicho."

"does my girl need some relief?" you nod at his question. "since you asked so nicely."

you moan when he finally touches you. his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in circles as his tongue teases your entrance. he hums against you at your taste making you jump at the feeling. he presses his tongue into you while his thumb increases speed.

"oh my god, nicho."

"does that feel good baby?" he asks pulling away slightly. you nod your head at the question.

"so good."

his thumb stops moving against your clit suddenly, but before you could say anything, he replaced it with his tongue. you moan as his tongue flicks your clit. his fingers move up your thigh before coating his fingers in your slick. he latches onto your clit, sucking as two fingers slowly ease into you.

"fuck!"

he hums again, sucking harsher before he let his fingers sped up the pace. you rolled your hips against him as the pleasure continued to roll through you. he loved that, groaning against your heat. "that's it, baby. use me."

you continued to roll your hips against him per his request. his lips stayed attached to your clit, flicking occasionally. you bite your lip to avoid screaming out when his fingers scissored before curling inside of you. you nearly came right then, squeezing around his fingers to stop.

"stop biting your lip." nicholas scolds. "there's no one here, so i want to hear you."

he does the move again, and this time you do as he says, moaning out his name. you felt your stomach twist at the motion. "fuck. nicho, please."

"come on, my good girl." nicholas praises. with one more curl of his fingers, you came undone, moaning his name loudly. he continues to praise you, helping you come down from your high before pulling away. "you're so beautiful, do you know that?"

you try to push him away, but he collapses on top of you with a laugh. "stop that."

"never." he told you before kissing you. "you're mine now, baby."

you lean into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. as you did so, you could feel his erection through his pants. you run your hands down his stomach before tugging on the hem of his pants. he groans at the action before pulling away.

"take them off."

"fuck, baby." nicholas curses at your demand. with your help, he pulled his shorts down his legs. his dick sprang out, hitting his stomach. his tip red, already leaking precum. he chuckled at your wide eyes. "like what you see?"

you roll your eyes, grabbing his dick and squeezing slightly causing him to stutter. "i lo-like everything about you, weno."

"already stuttering baby?" he questions with a smile, not catching your almost slip up. you let out a sigh of relief that was short lived by his teasing.

"shut up."

he smiled, shaking his head. "no can do, baby. you just said you like everything about me. that includes the teasing."

"i take it back." you say, laughing with he gasps at your words. "i'm kidding. i like everything about you. even the teasing."

"good." he mumbled, lips brushing against yours. "because i like everything about you too."

you smile up at him before leaning up and kissing him. as his lips pressed against yours, he moved your hand before replacing it with his. you moan against his lips as he runs his dick along your heat.

"you are okay with this, right baby?" he asked as he pulled away. you nod.

"more than okay. please don't stop."

he groans quietly at your begging, pressing his lips back to yours as he slides into you. you moan against his lips at the feeling of him stretching you. he moves slowly until his hips meet yours.

"you feel so good, baby." nicholas mumbles against your lips. "so perfect for me, aren't you sweet girl?"

you nod your head at his words, kissing him before pulling away. "i need more. please move, nicho."

nicholas does as you say, moving before slamming back into you. "how's that, pretty?"

"so good." you moan as his hips continue to slam against yours. everything hit you all at once. the pleasure. the feelings you felt for the man above you. you felt like you were going to lose your mind. "nicho."

as if he could sense what you were feeling, his hand gripped yours, intertwining your fingers and grounding you. "i'm right here. i'm not going anywhere. i promise."

your free hand grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. his tongue danced with yours as he continued to bring the two of you to your highs. after a particular harsh thrust, you could feel your climax approaching.

"nicho. please. i- i'm-" he shushed you with another kiss.

"i know baby. just relax and let me take care of you."

he reluctantly let go of your hand before moving it down your body. you choke out a moan as he starts rubbing your clit. that, along with his thrusts, brought you over the edge before you could even warn him. you cry out his name, burying your head in his shoulder. after a few more thrusts, he let out a groan of his own before coming to his own climax.

he coaxed you down with sweet praises, kissing down your cheek when you pulled away from his shoulder. he smiled when your eyes met his. "are you okay, sweet girl?"

you nod your head as you try to catch your breath. "i'm more than okay."

once he recovered, he pulled out of you before getting the two of you cleaned up. he helped you slip into a pair of underwear before giving you his tank top to wear. he even helped you take off your makeup before he took care of himself.

you were almost asleep by the time he climbed into bed behind you. you open your eyes slightly when you feel his arm wrap around you, pulling your back to his chest. you were too tired to speak, so you reached down to hold the hand that was draped over your stomach.

he squeezed your hand before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "sleep, pretty girl. i'll be here when you wake up."

──────────────────⋆°｡⋆୨🍒୧⋆°｡⋆─────────────────

you let out a groan, half asleep and shifting in bed as you feel something brush against your leg. whatever it was moves up your hip and across your stomach before running along your underwear. it freezes, almost waiting until you were fully back asleep before moving.

you jump, letting out a gasp as you grab nicholas' wrist that was currently inside your underwear and toying with your clit. you feel his tongue slide up your neck before sucking on the skin. his fingers press harder causing a moan to slip from your lips.

"shh. baby." nicholas' breath was warm on your neck. "i don't need anyone hearing what's mine."

"nicho." you whine, trying to be quiet as you rock against his hand. as you do so, you could feel him shift his hips, rolling his erection against you.

"you don't want me to stop, do you?" you shake your head, trying to stop from whining when his hand stops moving.

"no. please don't."

"then keep quiet, baby."

you move your hand away from his wrist, covering your mouth to silence a moan when two fingers slide into you. you tighten around his fingers as he stretches you. his lips continue to kiss along every inch of expose skin.

"you're doing so good for me, doll." you groan into your hand as he curls his fingers. "i can't wait to get you all to myself. i'm going to make you scream just like you did last night. you remember how good i made you feel last night, right baby?"

"i do." you shift your ass against his erection making him groan into your ear. "you make me feel- fuck nicho. s-so good."

you bite your lip, almost drawing blood as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. that along with his thumb rubbing your clit almost had you seeing stars. you shift again when you feel your stomach start to tighten.

"i can feel you squeezing my fingers. is my sweet girl about to cum?" you nod your head at the question, throwing your head back when he curls his fingers again. "what are you waiting for? be the good girl i know you are and cum all over my hand."

you grab his wrist tightly, his name coming out of your mouth in a low moan as you reach your high. he leans up, kissing your cheek as he pulls his hand out of your underwear. once you recover, you open your eyes before looking at nicholas. as soon as you turn your head though, his lips are pressed against yours.

you shift to lay on your back before pulling him closer. his hand trails up your spine before wrapping around the back of your neck. his other arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly as he pulls you on top of him. your legs straddle his waist as you put your hands on his shoulders before pushing up some. as you do so, you feel his erection brush against your clit making you jump.

"fuck baby." nicholas groans when you roll your hips. his fingers dig into your hips as you continue to rock your hips against his. you stop moving causing him to look up at you. you lift your hips before sliding your underwear down your legs. you go to do the same with your shirt when nicholas stopped you. "keep the shirt on."

you smirk at his request, sliding your hand along his boxers. "you want me to ride you while wearing your shirt?"

"god yes." he groans, lifting his hips up enough for you to expose him to you. you wrap your hand around him before slowly aligning him with you. you almost cry out when you sink onto him. nicholas tries as well, but a groan slips out of his mouth when you fully take him. "so tight. so perfect."

your hands rest on his shoulders as you rock your hips once again. his hands grip your waist, helping guide you over him. you increase your speed when you fully adjust to him causing him to buck his hips up into you. you chuckle, holding on to his shoulders to keep balance.

"eager boy, aren't we?"

"if you were in my position, you would be to." nicholas responds, closing his eyes in pleasure. "you just take me so good, baby."

you go to retort that you were in the same position, thirsting over the man beneath you, but stop when you feel his hands move. they shift up, pulling his shirt over your hips, so he could watch your movements. you look back up at him, locking eyes with him. his eyes were barely open and watching your every movement. you were locked in his unwavering stare. he was going to drive you to the brink of insanity because of how much you loved him.

you gasp in shock when he shoots up. his arms wrap around your waist, securing you when his chest bumped against yours. you halt your movements in shock as he kisses you, groaning against your lips as he does so.

"say it again." his dark gaze meets yours as he pulls away. you look at him in confusion, not remembering saying anything other than his name. "say you love me again."

your eyes widen, not realizing you said it out loud. you all but freeze as you thought you messed things up. you almost jump when you feel his hand cup your cheek. "say it, so i can say it back."

"you- you love me?" you ask.

"i do." he nods, and you release a shaky breath. "so say it again."

"i love you, my weno." the next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the mattress. his lips were against yours, catching your moan when he slammed into you full force.

"god, i love you too, baby. so fuckin much." you buried your face in his neck, stifling your moans as he continued his ruthless pace. "you don't even realize what you do to me. ever since you walked into my life in that stupid skirt, you've completely flipped my world upside down. but you've been mine this whole time, haven't you."

"i-i have." you tell him, moaning when his hand starts rubbing circles on your clit. he quickly kisses you, silencing you as he brings you to your high. you feel your stomach twist, and you claw his back causing him to groan against your lips.

"you close, my baby?" you nod against his lips. you throw your head back, biting your lip when he pressed down harder on your clit.

"fuck, nicho." you whine. nicholas shushes you with his lips.

"i know, my girl." he whispers against your lips. "let go."

when he kisses you again, you moan against his lips as you reach your climax. you tighten your grip on him, squeezing him and causing him to reach his climax. you hear him groan as he releases into you. you gasp for air along with him as you come down from your high. he pulls out of you before laying next to you, leaning on his arm as he looks down at you with a smirk.

"so you love me, huh?" you blush, pushing him away from you. he laughs before pulling you closer. he cups your cheek before leaning down and kissing you. you melt into his embrace, snuggling into his chest when he pulls away. he kisses your head. "it's okay. i kind of love you too."

"kind of?" you exclaim, pulling away from him. he laughs at your response. "you remembered what i was wearing when we first met you psycho!"

you squeal when his hands tickle your sides, you try to push him away but were unsuccessful in your attempts. "stop! please!"

"tell me you love me."

"you know i do." you tell him, gasping for air when his hands freeze.

"say it properly."

"i love you." you tell him before kissing him. you feel him sigh into the kiss before pulling away.

"i love you too, baby."

he leans in to kiss you again, but someone knocking on the door interrupted you. "are you guys decent?"

"no." nicholas answered karina. "and we won't be for a while. come back later."

you laugh when you hear karina groan. "i need clothes."

"go borrow some of fuma's." nicholas tells her.

"wang yixiang!" you both laugh when you hear karina yell. "open this door, or so help me i will shave your hair in your sleep!"

"hold on." you call out. you go to move out of bed, but nicholas stops you.

"i got it, pretty."

"but i'm wearing your shirt." you complain as he gets out of bed. he fixes his boxers before moving towards the door. "you can open the door in just your boxers."

"she's wants in so bad, so this is what she gets." he says before turning to smirk at you, slowly raking his hands down his chest. "don't worry though. this body belongs to you."

"oh my god." you groan as nicholas opens the door.

"really? you couldn't put on a shirt." karina complains as she walks in the room. her eyes land on you before smiling brightly when she sees your shirt. "never mind."

"lock the door on your way out." nicholas says as he climbs back into bed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"this is technically her room, weno." you tell him.

"not anymore." karina said with a handful of clothes. "i'm not sleeping anywhere his naked ass has been. i'm bunking with maki and harua the rest of the trip."

"sorry." you apologize.

she shrugged in response. "don't worry about it. i've been waiting for this since i first introduced the two of you, but elmo loves to take his time apparently."

"you're telling me."

"hey!" nicholas exclaims. you look his way, shrugging unapologetically causing him to pout. you lean over kissing his lips, pulling away when you hear someone gasp.

you turn to see taki in the doorway, a large smile on his face. you roll your eyes as you lay back down. "here we go."

"yn and nicho sitting in a tree." taki starts to sing. you see nicholas roll his eyes before getting out of bed. "k-i-s-s- oh my god! i'm sorry! don't hurt me!"

you and karina laugh as nicholas chases after taki before karina turns to you. "are you sure you love that man?"

"i'm sure." you nod your head, smiling softly. "i love him a lot."

[arelyvn]

THE BET - SJY ── .✦

Jake sim, one of the most popular boys in school makes it his goal to have you fall for him, a simple bet with his friends. Little does he know, he’ll be the one falling to his knees for you

sim jaeyun x fem!reader

content warnings: smut, angst, inexperienced reader x experienced jake, pussy drunk jake, pussy eating, fingering, dry humping, multiple makeout scenes, mutual masterbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of bullying & alcohol, jake is a massive giver, and a simp (begging), hyung line mentioned, porn with a plot..let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 16.8k

bonus scene here!

Going to a school where everyone around you got what they wanted was torture. Especially for someone like you. You don't come from a wealthy family like the other students do. Some people would call your home life unfortunate if they knew. Which is exactly why almost no one knows. 

You only got accepted into this school because of a scholarship program, after endless studying, and trying to stay focused at your old school, that was your out.

It was hard though, with the bullying, the mean comments, trying to remain sane while everyone in your life pushed and pointed like you were some object for observation and critiquing. 

But at your new school, people actually leave you alone. You've been attending here for a few months now. As a natural observer it only took 1 to understand the dynamic of the people here.

From the designer hand bags, to the freshly blown out hair, the girls here were not only gorgeous but also had the money to maintain things like that, it was obvious why they didn't bother you. Because you weren't a threat. 

Just like any other school there's always those cliques, the groups of people who hang around the same circle. Yours happens to be you and two other girls, your first friends you made here, Lyla and Gigi.

You have a hard time telling if they pity you, they know your situation. How your mother constantly tries to live off the wealth of other men, they know you don’t live in a good area—

“Oh my gosh he totally looked at me, didn't he look at me?” Lyla says, eyes darting between you and Gigi.

“He quite literally looks at anything with boobs Ly..” Gigi says, taking a bite of the school cafeterias fries.

“Come on, at least feed into my delusions a little bit” She says, stealing one of your fries.

You turn your head slightly, three tables back sits the most known group of boys in the whole school. Football players. Typical.

“You’re talking about Heeseung right?” you say turning back to your friends. “Obviously! I mean with Gigi being Jay’s sister obviously he knows who I am right?” She says, eyes wide

“Yeah- im sure he does, don't they hang out a ton after school and stuff too?” You ask, playing with the salad on your plate with a fork.

“Yup! At Gigi’s too, most of the time, and especially after practice, when they're hot and sweaty-”

“Okay gross. my brother is on that team” Gigi says, gagging

You've been to her house a few times, whether it was for one of your group projects, or to help her out with some school work, Slept over often too, I mean her house was huge.

Her parents even offered to have you sleep in one of the 6 guest bedrooms. But Lyla said it doesn't count as a sleepover if we’re not all together.

“Incoming, 12 o’clock.” Lyla says looking past your shoulder at the group of boys.

“How much you wanna bet she’s gonna yell at him” Gigi says, making you turn around, you watch as a familiar blonde haired girl you've seen around campus storms into the cafeteria, heels clicking on the ground as she approaches them.

“Jake where the fuck were you!” She yells, glaring at the dark haired boy, number 15 on the football team. You only know that because Lyla made you go through the list of them to figure out which one Heeseung was. 

You watch him, the way his eyes never leave his phone when he speaks. “God- What do you not fucking understand about where done?” He says finally looking up at her, the other guys around him look like they're watching a movie while they observe the interaction.

“But you didn't even-” she starts “Clara I don't want to hear your bullshit okay? Just leave me alone.” He says, tone irritated.

“Fine- you know you're just like all the other guys. Only talking to girls just to get your dick wet.”You watch the way her grip tightens on her designer bag.

“You didn't seem to mind.” He says, making the guys around him let out the laughs they've been holding.

“Fuck you- you’re so going to regret this!” She says, and you watch as he rolls his eyes and focuses back on his phone

“She looks like she's about to throw a tantrum” Gigi says, making your attention go back to your friends

“I mean Jake knew what he was getting into when they started..messing around" Lyla says. 

You just nod, half listening before turning your head again to look at the group, they’re back to laughing, probably at the interaction that just happened.

“-and then we can order pizza or something, it’s the perfect night for it too! You in y/n?” Lyla says, and you look at them confused “Huh?”

“Girl, The Victoria's Secret fashion show duh, it's live tonight.” She says "Gigi's house obviously since you know, movie theater room” 

“I love the way you volunteered my own place, But yeah, my house tonight” She says shrugging 

“Um- I dont know guys..I kind of have to study-”

“Y/n it's friday night. Come on, you have all weekend to study, please!” She says looking at you with those infamous puppy dog eyes

“Fine, fine ill be there, what time?” You ask, picking up your phone. 

“Like 7 ish?” Lyla says, looking at Gigi who just nods, “Yeah, Jay won't be home either, pretty sure him and his friends are going to some party.”

“Your parents are letting him?” Lyla asks, brow raising.

 “They're not even home, they literally left for their anniversary trip not even 3 hours ago.” Gigi says checking her phone. “So it will just be us then? she nods.

The rest of the day is a blur, between trying to set up tutoring appointments with your counselor, because apparently it looks good to help other students, and trying to finish your own work so you can actually go to Gigi’s.

You mentally prepare yourself to ask your mom if you can go tonight, hoping she's in a good mood. Knocking lightly on her bedroom door “Mom?” you ask quietly and the door swings open, you take in her attire, the club dress, the really tall heels, her hair and make up done. 

“You’re going on another date?” You ask brow raising 

“Yeah, remember that guy from the bar I told you about, Chris?" She says smiling, you nod even though you don't remember her saying a thing about him. 

“Right- um well I was just wondering if I can go to Gigi’s tonight? I finished my homework and stuff and its also friday so-” 

“Sure” She says, and you pause. It must be because she's going on a date, because you would have gotten a whole lot more shit. 

“Can you sleep over too.” It's not a question. 

“Uh- I can ask” You say shrugging

“Well just try too okay? Im about to leave” She says, putting in her earrings and giving you a very rare kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you confused as ever.

Its like the universe was on your side when you opened your phone to see the group chat messages 

Lyla: Gigi we should just have a sleepover

Lyla: It's already gonna be late when the live is done too

Lyla: Plus we haven't had one in so long

Gigi: yeah I was literally going to ask if you guys wanted to stay the night anyway lol

Lyla: YAY! Good because my bags already packed

Gigi: Y/n can u come too?

You: Yup! I'll be there

You set your phone down so you can focus on packing an overnight bag, you don't need to overdress either, so you settle on wearing some shorts, a hoodie, and fluffy socks with slippers, this is a sleepover after all

When you get to Gigi's house- no, mansion, because this can't even compare to your house. Lyla comes running out

"You're late!” She says, grabbing your bags from you “It's like 10 minutes-” 

“And the show starts in 20!” she says frantically, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the house

You dont think you’ll ever get over how nice it is, from the high ceilings to the expensive paintings on the wall, and the pool in the backyard, probably way too big for a family of four.

You catch the faint smell of popcorn from the kitchen, as Lyla places your bags by the stairs, “Where's Gigi?” you ask 

“Shes setting up in the movie room, im trying to finish the popcorn” Lyla says going to the kitchen

You walk down the hall you've grown familiar with, observing the pictures on the wall of Gigi's family 

“Y/n- how do you disconnect a Playstation from the TV? Jay didn't even bother to.” She says, clicking random buttons on the remote. You laugh walking over to help her

୨♡୧

“Okay all I have to say is when I get married and stuff, im making my husband buy me that specific set.” Lyla says over the runway music, making you and Gigi laugh because she practically yells over how loud it is. 

You open your mouth to speak but stop when all three of your eyes go to the door as it opens, Heeseung walks in pausing as his eyes go to the large TV screen “Holy shit- are you guys watching porn?” He says, looking at the model on the stage, the space instantly feels smaller as Sunghoon pushes  past him to get in the room “We’re not watching porn!” Gigi says, pausing the TV

Lyla is just staring at Heeseung, Jay walks in next “Gigi what the hell are you watching-”

“Did we interrupt your group gooning session?” Heeseung says. You watch Gigi's face flush red, now clearly visible since Jay turned on the lights. 

“Jay- You said you were going to that stupid ass party tonight!” She says walking over to him “Yeah well it got cancelled.” He says, rolling his eyes. “Bruh I've been wanting to play the ps5 all day” Sunghoon says before looking at the TV again 

“Do we not literally have a room for you to do just that?” Gigi says, eyeing down Sunghoon, before looking back at her brother.

“Dude someone left a whole bag of popcorn in the microwave-” Jake walks in pausing when he sees everyone in here, his eyes land on you for a split second before looking at the TV “What are they watch-” 

“Its not fucking porn! You all are so stupid!” Gigi says before her eyes snap back to Jay “I literally said I was having Y/n and Lyla over in our messages!”  

“Yeah well I forgot” He rolls his eyes again, you cant help but observe the other four boys, you watch Heeseungs eyes, following them to Lyla.. that has to be considered eye fucking. 

You can't help but look at Jake though, he's wearing glasses. Are they prescription? He’s looking at something on his phone. He just showed Sunghoon something on his phone that made him smile. Sunghoon looks at you for a second before nudging Jake's shoulder, Jake is looking at you- is he looking behind you? You turn your head slightly, before looking back at him, why is he smirking- 

“Fine! You keep the movie room well just go in the living room. Just don't snitch” Jay pleads, not even embarrassed that he's begging in front of his friends, Gigi just beams proudly, knowing she's won when they walk out.

୨♡୧

“She’s a virgin?!” Jake practically yells, making Heeseung, and Sunghoon's eyes snap to him. 

“You’re so fucking lucky the movie room is noise cancellation.” Jay says pinching his eyebrows 

“And- I don't even know if it's true, I just over heard Gi talking on the phone with her and Lyla a few weeks back” Heeseung and Sunghoons attention on the movie long forgotten 

“Are you talking about y/n?” Heeseung asks curiously 

“There's no way, I mean yeah she's like quiet and shit but she has some experience right?” Sunghoon adds

“I don't know man, but her and Gi became friends at the beginning of the school year, she's been over a few times. She's pretty chill.” Jay says 

“So she doesn't have a boyfriend?” Jake asks, brow raising 

“I thought you liked them experienced Jake? You fuck with little virgins now or what?” Heeseung says smirking 

“I mean she’s cute, nothing wrong with teaching her a thing or two” Jake says with a knowing look on his face

“She doesn't really talk to guys though–like at all. Gi always complains that she’s too busy studying. But she's hella smart, tutoring and shit-”

“Wait, she tutors?” Jake's ears perk up at that

“Yeah she came over to help Gigi with chem the other day.” Jay says casually, like he didn't just give him the golden ticket to your personal space

“Are you serious?” Sunghoon says looking at him

Heeseung glances between the two, picking up what they're hinting at. “It's kinda risky, I mean girls like that- they aren't like, easy you know? Plus you're literally one of the smartest on the team.” 

“You think she's actually gonna be interested though?” Jay asks

“I bet she'll see through that shit the first tutoring lesson honestly” Sunghoon says, making Heeseung laugh

“You think I only pull the easy ones?” Jake watching the both of them

“Thats all you’ve done this whole time-” Heeseung starts

“Alright bet.” Jake says, making the three of them pause

“Bet?” 

“Yeah, I'll get her to fall for me.” Jake says confidently 

“Yeah right” Heeseung adds

“Shit- I mean what about Clara though?” Sunghoon asks

“What about her? Im not fucking her anymore”

“You realise the shit she's gonna give y/n if you actually go through with that?” Jay says

“You’re basically setting her up for failure, Claras fucking crazy.” Heeseung says

“I still dont know why you decided to fuck her in the first place” he adds

“Probably because of her personality.” Jay says through a laugh

“Nah fuck her, she wont mess with y/n like that, shes not that desperate.” Jake says, but deep down he doesn't know if it's 100% true. Is he really setting you up for failure with this?

He's pulled from his thoughts when you come walking out of the movie room, coincidentally.

He only saw you sitting down, but now he's taking you in fully. Hoodie, shorts, fluffy…cat socks.

You pause when you see them all staring at you before awkwardly smiling and going to the kitchen to grab more popcorn.

Lyla and Gigi sent you out because they got it last time, but that's when there wasn't a group of guys you hardly knew in the living room. 

Jay nudges Jake's shoulder before glancing to the kitchen, hesitating a beat before standing up and walking over. 

You're looking through the five different popcorn options, who even needs that much popcorn anyway.

He watches as you choose the ‘extra butter’ one before speaking “Good choice” He says, walking further into the kitchen

“Oh- um thanks, it's the best one” You say, opening the microwave to put the popcorn in, he looks down at your legs, then back at your face when you turn around

“Y/n right?” He says, watching your face

“Yeah, I know who you are already though.” fingers toying with the end of your hoodie

“Oh? You've been to a game?” He says, taking a step closer 

“No- I mean, I don't really watch football like that or anything- or sports” You say, looking back at how much time is on the popcorn, 50 seconds. 

50 more seconds of this extremely weird interaction between you and one of the most popular guys in school. 

He notices, he doesn't like that. “Y’know we have the same 3rd block.”

“Oh- AP Anatomy & Physiology?" You ask, but you know exactly what he's talking about, how could you not. He’s the 9th one to arrive in class everyday, everyone swarms his desk like a bunch of baby ducks just to talk to him. 

“Yeah, I sit in the third row-” He's pauses when the beep of the microwave interrupts him, you silently thank the universe before pulling the popcorn out and mumbling something like “enjoy your movie” before practically running back to the movie room, leaving Jake confused, but also intrigued, most girls fall to their knees the second he gets within a 5 feet radius, so why did you just run away..

He walks back to the living room, sitting down, “Told you, easy ones only” Heeseung says through a laugh

୨♡୧

You're the first person to walk into AP Anatomy & Physiolgy on Monday, as always. You take your usual assigned, unassigned seat in the back row by the window, unpacking your bag, getting settled.

Your teacher walks in shortly after, she’s gotten used to you being here first. “Y/n” she says over the silence “Yes?”

“Are you okay with talking about how you're offering tutoring?” setting her own stuff down

"I'll have you do it at the end of class.” she adds. “Oh- yeah, I printed flyers for it too.” You say, and she smiles.

The students slowly file in, your eyes flick up to the door when the 9th person comes in. Jake.

The second he walks in his eyes are on you, you don't know why you feel hot all the sudden, like someone turned up the heater when he looks at you

Barely having any time to take in his outfit, you tap your pen on your paper, hoodie and jeans maybe?

You stop when you see the familiar frame take a seat next to you- Why is Jake sitting next to you, does he not always sit in the third row- You don't look at him, instead looking down at his shoe in your peripheral vision, because it would be weird to look at him. Even if you do feel his eyes on you. 

The class flies by, you write down whatever your teacher puts on the board, trying not to be distracted by the noticeable presence beside you, if he had an aura around him, it would be clashing into yours because this whole time you've been weirdly affected by his close proximity. 

“..And y/n has something to say as well.” Your teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts,you watch as everyone's heads turns to you before you stand up and walk to the front, clearing your throat

“Hi- im offering tutoring for anyone who needs extra help, any subject, um- here are the flyers if you're interested.” you say quickly before placing them on the teachers desk and walking back to your seat.

There's nothing you hate more than public speaking like that, you try to subtly calm your breathing. Jakes eyes are focused on you the whole time.

As soon as the bell rings you’re practically already out the door, Jake watches you stand up abruptly and rush out before he goes to the teachers desk to grab one of the flyers.

୨♡୧

“I don't know- she didn't even spare me a glance, like at all.” Jake says, setting his bag down on the bench in the locker room

“I told you, she doesn't talk to guys like that” Jay mutters, tying his shoe

“Pretty boy lost his charm huh?” Heeseung chuckles, shutting the door behind him

“Not completely” Jake says, pulling out your tutoring flyer from his bag

“You sneaky motherfucker-” Sunghoon eyes him, grabbing the paper from his hands

“Holy shit- you're actually going through with that?” Heeseung looks over Sunghoon's shoulder

“Just to prove a point?” Sunghoon asks

Jake doesn’t have time to reply before the Coach comes in, yelling at them to ‘get the fuck out the locker room’

୨♡୧

As soon as you get home, you pause when you see a suitcase by the door. “Oh y/n- took you long enough, you remember Chris right?” She say’s coming out of her room with a duffel bag

“The guy you went on a date with?” You ask, seting your backpack down

“Yeah, the rich one” She says with a smirk

“Anyways, he’s taking me to Boston for a trip!” She says excitingly

“Boston- what? Didnt you just meet him though?” You ask, brow raising in confusion 

“I think he might be the one” She says smiling, the same smile she’s put on every time she says that.

“Um- well how long?” you ask, trying to register this whole thing

“Hmm- like 2 and half weeks-”

“2 and a half?! Mom- what the hell?”

“Calm down, I hate when you get like this y/n.” She says, putting her duffel bag on her shoulder

“Theres money for food, and whatever you need on the counter. It's not like I'm leaving you here to starve.” 

“But-”

“Shit- I gotta go, ill call you when we land okay?” She says, giving you an awkward side hug before rushing out, leaving you confused as ever. This is what always happens though so you don't know why you're confused. She’s probably just doing it for the money anyway. Marry a rich man, use him to provide for us. It's pathetic.

The time was 9:46 when you receive the message. A number you don't know, you click on it

Unknown: Hey, Is this y/n?

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I got this number from your tutoring flyers

sitting up, this is the first person to actually text you about that

You: Oh yeah, what subject do you need help with?

Unknown: AP Anatomy & Physiology

You: Okay perfect, I have an A in that class so I can definitely help

You get your notebook out and a pencil

You: How soon do you want to start? And what's your first and last name

Unknown: Can we start tomorrow? I have practice everyday except Tuesdays

Practice? No way. You feel your heart beat pick up, This cant be–

Unknown: First names Jake, last names Sim.

The Jake Sim is texting you, about.. Tutoring. Is he not one of the top students though? You take a deep breath before typing back a reply

You: Okay, Tomorrow works. Does after school in the library work for you?

Jake Sim: Yeah im good with that

Jake Sim: I’ll see you tomorrow y/n

You shut your phone off, trying to ignore the way your palms are sweating a little too much right now, who even uses peoples names like that in messages?

Jake smiles down at his phone before swiping out of the chat.

୨♡୧

You're early. You're also early everywhere you go. You already set up your computer, and notebook with his name at the top, even after you erased it 3 times.

He walks in, you notice immediately, looking up from your paper, his hair is framing his face, no glasses today. White shirt with jeans. He smiles before sitting down across from you, you smile back, trying to seem less awkward.

You try to remind yourself, this is a mere tutoring lesson, so you'll act like it.

“So I just need to know what you're struggling on before we actually get into the teaching stuff.” you say looking at him, his eye contact is intense, it's hard to hold it.

He pulls out his own notebook

“Mainly muscle contractions,heart anatomy, and” He pauses before looking up at you “-Hormones.” You hesitate a beat before writing that down under his name. He notices.

“Okay, I can work with this- is there anything specific you don't understand? Is it a focusing thing?” You ask, genuinely concerned “I actually pulled up your average and you seem to be doing fine-”

“It's my memory” He says quickly “I have a hard time understanding, when the teacher talks it doesn't really comprehend well.” 

“Oh- that's completely normal, are you more hands on?” You ask

He smirks “And visual.”

You look like you're actually deep in thought “Okay so, we would need to do more interactive studying, makes sense.” You say writing more stuff down

He watches you, the way your brows furrow in thought.

“Are you going to the game next Friday?” He says, your eyes flick up to him, confused at the sudden question

“I don't really go to football games or anything- Thats more Lyla and Gigi” You say, eyes traveling down for a split second when his tongue wets his bottom lip

“You should come” He says casually, like time has no affect on him

“We really should stay on task“

“If I pass the test next week will you come?”

Your caught off guard by the question, his heavy gaze on you making it worse

“Um- I’ll think about it” You say before writing more stuff down, he smiles slightly

୨♡୧

The next week goes by quickly, thankfully. Your mom has only called once, claiming she forgot to say she landed, even if it was a day later.

Home is lonely, its quiet but its good for studying. Your thoughts drift to Gigis family sometimes, even though her and her brother argue half the time, at least she has someone.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name being called, not by the familiar voice of your friends but by..Jake?

Lyla and Gigi both look behind you, eye brows raised as he comes closer, standing infront of your table in the cafeteria

You watch the way people look at him, the heads turning to you, the attention—it’s too much

“Y/n” He says looking down at you

“I might be a little late for tutoring today, coach wants to talk to us about the game.” He says, making Lyla and Gigi’s eyes flick between you two

“Um- Okay, But you couldn’t have messaged me that?” you say, trying to ignore the gazes on you from people you’ve never spoken to in your life.

“I mean you were already here so-“

“Yeah just text me next time okay?” You say, avoiding eye contact

He looks over at his friends, watching their snickers. Oh hell no.

You think he’s going to walk away by now but he sits down, right next to you. That makes Lyla's jaw practically drop

“Why? You don’t like talking to me?” He says, watching you intently

“I never said that- you just cause a lot of..attention.” You say, looking around before looking at him

“You don’t like attention?”

“Not from this many people.” You say standing up, grabbing your bag

“Where are you going-“

“I have to go.” You mumble before putting your bag over your shoulder and walking out the cafeteria, not looking back because you know if you do, everyones eyes will be on you.

As soon as the doors shut behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Really?” Gigi asks, watching Jakes confused face

“You realize you’re like a magnet for attention right?” Lyla says

“And there’s nothing she hates more then that.”

“I was just asking her about tutoring.” Jake says, standing up to walk back to his friends

“Nice job man, you really do still got it huh?” Heeseung says through a smirk, making the others stifle their laughs

“Should’ve put money on it” Sunghoon adds, earning a glare from Jake

୨♡୧

Jake came in late like he said, 15 minutes to be exact. He looked out of breath, like he ran here.

The tutoring session was fine, you kept that professional exterior even if you were trying not to feel embarrassed about earlier, thankfully he didn't bring it up.

“Aren't hormones just when you're horny?” He asks, pencil raised above his paper, looking at you

You pause “Did you really just ask me that-” You didn't mean to say it out loud but you did, it makes him let out a chuckle, he bites his lip, something he does often, a little too often. To the point where you can't help your eyes follow when he does it.

“Okay um, let me think of how to word this” you say, looking down at your paper before back up at him “It’s not just what makes you- ‘horny’ but I guess that could be a way to describe it, a more..scientifical word is Steroid Hormones..”

He watches you talk, even if what your saying is hardly registering to him, because not only are you talking to him about sex hormones or whatever it is, but you're not wearing the same knit sweater you had on earlier, you must have taken it off, because he cant pull his eyes away from the way your tits look in that tank top-

“Jake?” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, his eyes find yours again.

“How are you supposed to pass this test when you can’t even focus?” You ask, completely unaware of how he was just looking at you

“Shit- sorry, what were you saying” He says a little bit more nervously than he intended, why is he so damn nervous, why do you even make him nervous? 

“Hm, you need something to do with your hands.” You say casually, taking him by surprise

His mind races with what you mean, please, please ask him to finger you.

He pauses when you pull out a rubix cube, a fucking rubix cube and hand it to him- what the fuck is he supposed to do with this shit?

“You said you were more hands on, one of the other students I tutor is also like that. Whenever she uses that, it's like she’s more focused, you should try it.” You say smiling, encouraging.

He doesn't know why he feels relieved when he hears the word ‘she’, but he does.

He takes the object from your hand, fidgeting with it for a few seconds before you continue

The rest of the lesson is smooth, who knew a rubix cube would actually work. You try to stay focused yourself though.

The constant bounce of your leg to settle whatever your feeling when you watch the way his fingers work the object in his hand, it should be illegal to have that many veins in the first place.

Later that night, in one of your moments where you give yourself a break from studying.

Heating up the leftover pasta you made the other night, you get a text. Your body reacts before your mind does, heartbeat picking up

Jake Sim: I tried the practice test thing you showed me earlier

Jake Sim: Got a 100% 

You smile, when he sends a picture of his laptop, the score on it saying just that

You: Good job

He frowns at his phone, that's all? No titty pic as a reward?

Jake Sim: Guess I'll be seeing you at Friday's game then :)

You: Well see if your studying shows then

Jake Sim: I'll make sure it does

୨♡୧

“Y/N!” you hear Jake yell after you, you stop to turn around, seeing him walking up to you, leaving Heeseung and Jay’s side as he comes into step beside you.

You’re still not used to the pointed looks you get from the people around you, but you're training yourself to pretend they aren't there.

Heeseung and Jay watch as Jake rushes to you like a damn puppy, looking at each other.

He hands you a paper, you take it looking down at the big 100% on the top “You actually did it!” You say smiling, before looking up at him beside you

He puts a hand on his chest, with a fake gasp “And to think you doubted me” He stops at the cafeteria door, pulling you aside before you walk in, facing you away from the people who keep looking at you. The nosy motherfuckers who can’t help but take attention to you ever since he’s became—friends? With you.

“So you'll come to the game then right?” He asks, doing that thing where he bites his lip

“Thats what we agreed on, plus Lyla and Gigi are going too” You say, watching the way his eyes light up

The last few people file in the cafeteria, leaving you and him alone. 

“Y’know what the theme is right?” He asks, and this time you're genuinely caught off guard- theme? He notices your confusion right away 

“Every game has a theme, pretty sure this one’s western, like cowboys and shit” He says watching your face, the way your eyebrows knit in uncertainty

“Lyla and Gigi didn't tell you?”, you shake your head softly

“Im surprised- they always go like all out for the themes” He says through a quiet laugh

Great. That only means they are going to make you go all out too.

You both pause when the final bell rings, walking in to the cafeteria like its the most normal thing, your steps falter when you feel the eyes on you, you look at your friends before glancing at Jakes group- why are they all staring at you-

“I’ll see you later y/n” He smiles before walking to his table, you sit down in front of Lyla and Gigi who are both looking at you knowingly

“What?” you say through an awkward laugh

“You know damn well what” Lyla says through a smirk

“Tutoring my ass” Gigi adds back

“Girl I do not look at my tutor like that” Lyla says, holding back a laugh

“Like what-?”

“Like I want to eat him the fuck up- because thats how The Jake sim was just looking at your ass-” You almost choke on your water, making her and Gigi laugh

You look down at the table to hide your blush “Well, you guys also didnt tell me there was a theme at the game.” You say, crossing your arms

“Okay when was the last time you checked the group chat y/n” Gigi asks, you pull out your phone

“This morning..” You say scrolling through the message thread

Lyla: Okay so what are we wearing tn

Gigi: Themes cowboy right?

Gigi: You know how much my mom and dad LOVE that costume shit

Gigi: I have so much stuff for it at my house

Lyla: Wow gigi inviting us over

Gigi: I can take u guys home after school

Lyla: YES

Lyla: We have to look GOOD, especially you y/n

Lyla: For you know

Gigi: Jake

Lyla: Okay shes probs not even on her phone

You swipe out, just to see if your mom said anything, you click on the messages to see a sunset picture and city buildings, typical.

“So, can you come?” Lyla asks

“Yeah sure- but we don’t have to go all out right?”

They look at each other before looking at you, the smile on their faces tells you everything you need to know

୨♡୧

“This feels like a lot..” You say looking at your outfit in her bedroom mirror

“No y/n- you look like, hot.” Lyla says, choosing one of the 7 cowboy hats Gigi brought out

“This is the final touch” She says before putting it on your head

This is quite literally the opposite of you, completely. It’s something you would never wear if it weren't for them, you wonder what your old self before you transferred schools would think. From the white fitted shirt, to the jean skirt, down to the—cowboy boots..

You adjust the red bandana on your neck so its not choking you uncomfortably

Gigi watches your worried face “I promise the others will be doing 10x more than us.” She reassures you, you look at them in the mirror, Lyla's shorts that hug her curves, Gigi’s shirt that compliments her body perfectly.

This feels very..them. You can't help but feel like an outsider trying to fit in.

“Jake will love it” Lyla says, hiding her smirk

“What- Jake?” The thought of Jake seeing you in this makes you nervous..but also exited? What would he think, would he expect you to wear this?

You're pulled from your thoughts when the man himself sends you a message

Jake Sim: Hey y/n were gonna grab food after the game

Jake Sim: Wanna come?

Jake Sim: Lyla and Gigi can come to

Jake Sim: I already told Jay not to bitch abt it lol

Your fingers hover over the screen

"Quadruple text is crazy” Lyla says through a smile

Gigi peaks over your shoulder “I do not want to hang out with my brother for fun.” She says, rolling her eyes

“Come on Gi! The others will be there too and! Heeseung’s fine ass” Lyla says, looking in the mirror to adjust her push up bra

Gigi just puts on her boots with a shrug

“Y/n say yes please!” Lyla says, practically jumping up and down

“Fine- fine” 

You: Yeah sure.

“Um- Thats all?” Lyla asks 

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know, maybe say something like ‘I'm so excited!’ or ‘good luck!- you know what just give me the phone.” Lyla says snatching it from your hand and sending a message

You: Good luck Jakey! I'll be cheering you on! ;)

“What the hell- is there a way to delete this, how do I-” 

“Really Ly? He’s gonna know thats not y/n, she like never uses emojis” Gigi says cringing 

“Maybe if he wins he'll give you good dick?” Lyla says shrugging 

Your face goes red, this topic, talking about him-

Jake Sim: Haha thanks y/n :) 

“See, completely normal!” Lylas practically beaming

“Yeah so that definitely wasn't her” Jake says putting on his cleats

“Jakey? Really?” Sunghoon mimicks 

“I wouldn’t doubt if Lyla took her phone honestly.” Jay mutters

“Lyla's coming right?” Heeseung asks, putting on his jersey

His friends look at him “Why?”

“I mean shes hot as fuck dude, plus she totally looks at me all the time” He adds, fixing his hair in the locker mirror

“Yeah she's coming” Jake says, looking back down at the messages

୨♡୧

When you, Gigi, and Lyla get to the game a little earlier, they were not joking about people going all out. Compared to everyone else, your outfit was tame to say the least.

You three find a spot in the bleachers, your eyes scanning the field for one specific person.

You watch him, he’s drinking water on the side right now- his helmet is in his other hand, how can someone look so good drinking water.

You watch as Heeseung nudges Jake's shoulder beside him, and then Jake's eyes are on you

“Holy fuck” He says to Heeseung

You cant see what they’re saying 

“I mean she looks like a cowboys wet dream” Heeseung says, smirking

Jake gives him a pointed look, before turning back to you, the distance is good enough for him to see the way your skirt clings to your legs, and how good that shirt looks on you, Fuck. 

He waves at you, you look behind to see if it was someone else but there's no one behind you yet, you turn back to see him smiling at you before offering a small wave back

Lyla and Gigi are both watching from beside you, eyes flicking between you and Jake

You watch as Heeseung yells at him, and as he puts his helmet on before running over to him, a smile that wont go away ever since he saw you plastered on his face

“You sure you're not just doing this for the love of the game” Heeseung says, putting in his mouth guard 

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A statement that might be right. Because this doesn't feel like some childish bet anymore.

The first half of them game goes well, you dont really understand much. But from the way Lyla, Gigi, and the rest of the students are cheering, thats definitely a good sign. “Im going to get water, do you guys want any?” you say, stepping off the bleachers 

“Yeah- soda?” Lyla says, before looking back at the field where a very sweaty heeseung is spraying water in his mouth

You nod before walking to the concessions, the line isn't too bad, so you just pull out your phone to scroll, when two girls come behind you, you wouldn't care normally but its what they're talking about that makes your hand pause over your screen

“I mean he hasn't even looked at me this whole time, which is crazy because not even a month ago he had me sucking his dick!” One of the girls says, you look down to see pink cowboy boots

“His very big dick” Her friend says

“Ridiculously big. Fuck I miss it im not gonna lie.” 

“Isn’t he fucking with a new girl now though?” You hear her friend say, you watch as the person in front of you takes way too long to order

“Yeah some nerd ass bitch, teachers pet apparently” 

“I don't know Clara, she's like hella smart” 

You shut your eyes for a second, Clara, you recognize that name. That's the same girl who yelled at Jake in the cafeteria that one time

“I don't care how smart she is, that's literally my man” 

“Girl- he literally dropped your ass in front of the whole cafeteria..”

Your attention is brought back when it's your turn to order, you pay for the drinks before going back, doing your best to avoid turning around.

“Y/n?” Lyla says, when you hand her the sprite

“You look like you've seen a ghost, are you good?” Gigi asks, concern laced in her tone

“Yeah im good” You say offering a tight smile, the bandana on your neck suddenly feeling too tight.

It feels like someone has their hand around your heart, squeezing it, because why did hearing those things make you feel this way– Why is Jake even talking to you? Why did he even invite you in the first place?

You watch as the starting players go back on the field, but your mind can't focus when all these questions are flooding in. What does someone like him even want with you.

୨♡୧

You look down at your phone 

Jake Sim: Hey me and the guys will be out in 5 mins

You read the message, before putting your phone in the pocket of your skirt, people are still hanging around, the players usually shower after a game apparently.

Exactly 5 minutes later Jake comes out, jeans, and a black zip up hoodie with a white shirt underneath, his bag is on his shoulder, his hair is still wet from the shower, and you cant help the heat that goes to your face when he waves to you.

You look past him to see the rest of his friends coming out behind him, you see Heeseung whisper something in Jake's ear that makes him roll his eyes.

“Good job- you were great out there” You say, fixing the cowboy hat on your head

“I had good motivation” He says, eyes on your face before they drift to your clothes, finally seeing you up close like this.

“Alright can we go now? Im hungry as fuck.” Jay says, interrupting the moment

You turn to Lyla, who's talking to Heeseung, then to Gigi who shrugs

“Y/n, I can drive us” Jake says, bringing your attention back to him

“Oh its fine I dont-”

“That's a great Idea!” Lyla says a little too loud, making everyone's eyes go to her 

“Theres not enough room in Gigi's car for all of us anyway, so it works out” She adds, calculating smile plastered on her face, she ignores the pointed look you give her

“Alright yeah whatever can we just go now before I die of starvation” Jay says, making Gigi roll her eyes “fat ass.” She mutters before walking to her car

“You did not just call me a fat ass Gi- Weren’t you the one who ate all the fucking leftovers-” You and Jake watch them walk to the car, before you and him walk to his.

You curse Lyla for leaving you with him like this- when he smells so good and his hair is wet, and his hands-

“You look really pretty,” He says, putting his bag in the trunk before opening the passenger door for you. “Thank you-” You reply back quietly, trying to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest.

But how many other girls has he said that too- that girl Clara? 

He gets in the Drivers seat, and starts the car, watching the way you look out the window. Immediately noticing the way you shift

“So, for the first football game you went to, how was it?” he says pulling out of the parking lot

You turn slightly to look at him, the way his face concentrates on the rode, but also managing to talk to you “It was fun” You smile before looking back out the window

“Did you get anything from the concessions? I heard they added slushies and stuff.” He says, tapping his finger on the steering wheel, trying to seem unbothered by the way your energy shifted the second you stepped foot in his car

The mention of drinks has your mind going back to the conversation you heard earlier, what if those girls had knew you where the one they were talking about–

“Yeah just some, um..water and stuff” You say, trying to avoid the way his eyes are pinned on your head

4 minutes of silence pass, except for the low music playing from the speakers, and the car's engine.

“Is everything good?” He asks, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead

“What– yeah of course, why wouldn't it be.” You say quickly, fingers toying with the hem of your jean skirt.

He doesn't buy it.

Your brows furrow in confusion when he pulls over, looking at him as he puts the car and park “What are you doing-”

“Tell me what's wrong” he says, hand still on the steering wheel, but eyes on you

“Nothing's wrong?” You feel that familiar heaviness on your chest

“Y/n. you can't even look at me, did I do something?” He asks, knuckles white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel

“You can tell me whatever it is-”

“Why do you talk to me?” You ask, finally looking at him

“I..I just don't understand– all the sudden it goes from you not even looking at me, and then you're asking to be tutored by me, and then you invite me to your game, and then im in your car-” you continue, your heart beat rising with how much words you're saying in one breath. He doesn't interrupt you.

“And I really didn't think you needed to be tutored, honestly, you're one of the top students in our class- no, in our grade. But I did anyway, it honestly just feels like you pity me. Because why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me– It just doesn't make any sense.” You stop, breathing in heavy breathes, too aware of how close he is right now, how he's looking at you.

“I don't pity you y/n. I like spending time with you.” He says, watching your face

“Fuck- I mean, I took the flyer and the tutoring because I wanted to spend that time with you- whenever I tried to talk to you any other way you just– blew me off?” He says, contemplating his words

He looks down at his hands before back up at you, noticing the way your features slightly soften

He lifts his hand to take the hat off your head, so he can fully see your face

“Why would someone like me want to be friends with you?” He repeats your question, you didn't realise how close you two got, faces nearly an inch away from each other

“I don't want to be friends y/n. I want more than that–I fucking crave more than that” His gaze drops to your lips, a silent question

“Jake-” You whisper out before he presses his lips to yours,you instantly melt at the contact, your hand finds the collar of his shirt, attempting to tug him closer over the center console, his hand holds the back of your head, threading his finger in your hair, he moves his lips against yours, slowly, testing, you follow his lead, letting go instead of taking control. He feels the way you let him, unable to hold the small groan that travels its way to your mouth through the kiss.

You pull back, breathing hard, opening your eyes to look at him, his lips have a slight shine from your saliva, he licks them before looking into your eyes.

You don't know what you're doing, you've never even done anything like this before, but the way he’s looking at you, like you absolutely wrecked him gives you a new found confidence.

You sit up, before moving to get over the center console, he just watches you as you settle on his lap, his hands immediately resting on your waist “y/n-”

“just kiss me” You say, and he doesnt hesitate before pressing his lips against yours, this time its lessed controlled, he doesnt hold himself back.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his hands are touching everywhere, sliding up and down your back, before cupping your ass in his hands making you gasp into his mouth, he swallows that down, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You feel the heat pooling between your legs, shifting slightly, which makes him let out a broken sound before looking down, the way your skirt is riding up, how you’re sitting right on his hardening cock, he looks back at your face, kissing the corner of your mouth before he pulls you on him more, the friction making you let out a quiet sound– he needs to fucking hear it again, and you need to feel it again. 

It starts off slow, testing, in the way you roll your hips on him, you watch him throw his head back “Fuck, baby-” You grind down a little harder, in response to the name, he rolls his hips with you, the seam of his jeans catching your clit just right through your underwear, enough to make you let out small sounds that has his eyes rolling

He leans in to kiss you again, hands splayed on your ass to pull you impossibly closer, the kiss is desperate, frantic, tongues moving together in a rhythm like you were made for each other, there's no leader, no follower, this is just- the two of you.

“J-jake–” you let out, biting your lip when he grinds up, hitting the perfect spot, hes pulling you against him, controlling the way your hips move, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your skirt, He slides his hand underneath the denim fabric, to really feel you, groaning into your mouth at how warm and soft you are in his hands.

“You’re going to kill me-” You both freeze when a loud ringtone comes from his phone.

“Shit- I forgot about the plans” he says, looking at his phone 

Jay: Dude where the hell are you

Jay: Im srsly abt to order with out you

Sunghoon: we got u and y/n waters

Jay: -Missed call-

“We should probably-”

“Yeah”

The warmth of your body is removed like a flash when you sit back down in the passenger seat, fixing your skirt, he tries to ignore the way his dick is throbbing in his jeans right now. Instead he watches you, the flush on your cheeks, the small smile that's barely noticeable

“What?” You say through a chuckle, noticing his stare

“Im just really lucky” He says, before putting the car into drive and getting back on the road, even when you two get out of the car, walking into the restaurant, you’re still thinking about what he said.

Because no one has ever told you they were lucky to have you.

୨♡୧

The next week of school is fun, and easy. You still decide to tutor Jake, because he said it really helped him.

Even if it did lead to small kisses, you definitely weren't complaining. People still look at you two when you walk together in the hallway, he even invited you to sit with him in the caferitria with his friendgroup, they are actually really nice to you.

The best part is seeing Gigi and Jay argue, it's like having your own show to watch while you eat

You don't miss the way Heeseung and Lyla look at each other, or when coincidentally the both of them are late for lunch.

Under the table, Jake's hand is splayed across your thigh, everytime he laughs he squeezes it slightly, which makes you try and close them, but he notices. He notices everything when it comes to you.

“..And not to mention Gigi’s parents bought the good ice cream” Lyla says, practically about to burst from excitement

“Okay so it's like a pool party then?” Sunghoon says, raising his eyebrow

“Well, just like with us though.” Gigi says

“Im not trying to have half the school trash the house, especially when mom and dad get back tomorrow.” She adds, you watch Jay nod

“Im in” Heeseung says, turning to watch Lyla “Perfect! What about you and Jake?” She says turning to you both

“Yeah im down” he smiles before looking at you

“Um- Ill have to check, but ill text you when I get home” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear

“Okay, perfect!” She squeals

“Just come over any time after school then” Jay says

You nod before glancing down at your phone, re reading the message from your mom

Mom: Me and Chris decided to stay a little longer, you have enough money for food still right?

Jake watches you “Are you okay?” he says, quietly so no one else can hear

“Oh yeah- im fine” You say, putting your phone down and smiling

୨♡୧

“I can't do this.” You say as soon as you close Gigi’s bedroom door behind you

They both look at you as you pull out the bathing suit from your tote bag, you watch Gigi cover her mouth to stifle a laugh

“You can’t be serious” Lyla says, standing up to take the middle school one piece swimsuit from your hands

“This thing is hideous” She holds it up in the air

“Im not one to judge but you absolutely cannot wear that y/n” Gigi says, standing up to look at it closer

You bury your face in your hands, sitting down on her bed

“I brought like 5 different bathing suits, plus Gigi has a shit ton, and you are most definitely borrowing one.” Lyla says, emptying her bag on the bed, you glance at the small strings, and shapes before looking up at her 

“What? I wanted to bring my slutty ones, I thought Heeseung would like them” She says smiling proudly

“And im sure jake will” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows

“You’re so ridiculous Ly” Gigi mutters before tying her hair in a bun

You pick up a red triangle bikini top, and Lyla nods

“Good choice, these are the bottoms” She says, holding them up

“These are bottoms? Like swimming bottoms?” you say, taking them from her hand 

“Yup! Just try it on at least” She smiles sweetly, waiting for your approval, you nod

“Come downstairs when you’re done okay?” Gigi says, opening her bedroom door.

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, The bathing suit fits well, it's just..small. Like if you make one wrong move you'll definitely flash someone. You turn around to see how it looks from the back, not completely terrible- just a bit cheeky?

You think Jake might like it, not to mention the fact that you chose the red one because he mentioned he liked that color.

You pause when you hear the sound of male voices, they must be here. You take one last look at yourself before opening the door and almost getting knocked to your ass when you collide with something hard

“Shit- y/n?” You look up, Jake–Your eyes take in his form, the swim trunks, the white tank top perfectly stretched across his chest. His hair, messy, yet perfectly styled, before looking at his face. He’s smiling down at you

You're suddenly aware that you're practically half naked in front of him, You weren't even planning on going in the water, except for your feet–you need to grab your shorts and put them on “I was just uh, I just need my shorts–” 

His hand trails down your shoulder, grabbing your hand before placing it on his chest, over his heart, you feel the fast beats of it, almost in sync with how quick yours is "You're making me nervous” he whispers, he takes a step forward so he's in the bathroom with you, shutting the door behind him softly

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, testing to see your reaction before he pulls back to look down at you, you put your hands on his shoulders before leaning to kiss him again, he reacts immediately, hands on you the second you touch him, his hand starts at your waist before moving down to cup your ass in his hand, you gasp at the feeling, he kneads the flesh in his hands, squeezing it while kissing you deeper “You look so fucking good baby” He says through heavy breaths, looking at your face

He moves until your pressed against the counter, before lifting you up on it, your legs spread slightly to make room for him, while keeping your lips on his.

The kiss is messy, desperate, his hands are on your hips, and you let out a muffled sound when he presses his hips against you, you feel it, the hardness of him against your thigh, you pull back to see the desperate look on his face, the way his cheeks are slightly red, his lips looking even more plump from your kisses

He takes his right hand from your waist, splaying it on your thigh, before he looks into your eyes, you nod.

You watch his hand inch higher, grazing your inner thigh, his finger tip brushes your core, making you shiver at the contact, he watches you intently before pressing his fingers against you, making you let out a shaken breath

Leaning in to brush his lips across your jaw, before slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of the bathing suit bottoms, finally feeling your warmth “Fuck, you’re so wet–” He says, looking down before kissing your neck, softly, reassuringly 

He starts with small circles around your clit, testing to see what makes you feel good, your legs spread wider when he does small figure eights on your clit, hands braced on his shoulders as he presses open mouthed kisses to your neck, trailing up to your ear

His middle finger brushes your entrance, lightly, while his other hand comes up to move the hair out of your face

“Have you ever been fingered y/n?” He asks, voice low, watching the way your chest falls and rises, you shake your head “Do you want to be?” He says, biting his lip “Y-yes, I want you to, Jake” He presses his hard cock against your thigh, groaning at the permission

He connects his lips to yours, you let him in instantly, tongues dancing together before he slowly guides his finger in your entrance, “breathe baby, you're so tight” he whispers against your lips, you close your eyes when his finger goes deeper, making you let out a quiet moan, his single digit stays there, embraced by your warmth before he curls it slightly making you whimper in his mouth “Jake– “ you let out through a wispy breathe

He moves his thumb to circle around your clit, in lazy motions “can you take another, baby? It’ll feel even better” kissing your cheek softly, you nod and he pulls out his finger, before inserting two digits, making you let out a desperate sound at the stretch.

He kisses you, in attempt to quiet you down, before moving his fingers in and out of you, curling inside, rubbing your clit with practiced ease

Seeing you like this, overhwemled by the pleasure he’s bringing you could make him come right now.

“You’re so perfect baby- this pretty pussy’s taking my fingers so well” He whispers, the filthy things making you clench around his fingers, he adds more pressure to your sensitive bud, “j-jake im gonna-“

“You gonna come for me baby?” slightly picking up the pace his fingers are moving, fucking them in and out of you.

Your moans are only getting louder, he move his other hand to cover your mouth, muffling them so the others don't hear down stairs, he feels your hole fluttering around your fingers, so he moves them even faster, making it his life fucking goal to have you come from this

His eyes dont know what to focus on, switching from the way your tits slightly bounce, to the way his fingers disappear inside you, or to the way you’re looking at him, the dazed half lidded look, he presses against your clit just right, making you clench hard on his fingers as you ride your orgasm out, moaning into his hand, your juices coating his fingers and dripping out, he brings his hand back down from your mouth, watching the way your breathing slows, before pulling out his fingers, the loss of contact making you whimper with how sensitive you are

He brings his fingers up to his lips, locking eyes with you before putting them in his mouth, sucking your arousal off, the sight makes you let out a breathy sound, you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight from exitement

You’re blushing from the filthy act, he brings his lips to yours capturing you in a kiss, you can slightly taste your arousal on his tounge “You’re so beautiful–” you both freeze when a knock on the bathroom door slices the moment in half

“Jake are you in there man? We’re trying to choose pizza toppings– the girls said they dont care whats on the pizza, they just went outside claming they didnt want to ‘waste tanning time’ I dont know-” jay rambles on

“Yeah im in here, ill be down in a sec” Jake says, forehead resting on yours before he pulls back

“Alright- and if you find y/n tell her to come down too” Jay adds

You and Jake listen to the sound of retreating footsteps

“We should probably go down there” he says, pulling back and helping you get off the counter

“Yeah i just need to get some shorts-” You watch as he pulls your bottoms back up, adjusting them before leaning down to press one more kiss to your lips

“I’ll see you in a few minutes” He says with that familiar smirk on his lips, before walking out and shutting the door behind him, he leans against it for a second, still trying to process what just happened, before adjusting his extremely hard cock in his bottoms, and making his way downstairs.

You look in the mirror, pressing your fingers against your lips, the feeling of him kissing you lingering. Your body is still burning from the aftermath of your orgasm. You fix your hair in the mirror, going back to Gigi’s room to put on your shorts

And finally making your way down the stairs, you pause halfway when you hear Heeseung's voice

“Who y/n?” You hear him say

“Who else dumbass?” Sunghoon replies

They're talking about you. instead of going downstairs you stay there, just to see what they're saying

“Have you told her?” Jay asks

“No–I can’t fucking tell her that”

“Yeah you’re cooked” heeseung says flatly

Cooked?

“I really like her, And not in some casual hook up way okay? I don’t know whats going on, and im confused because ive never felt this way before about someone–” Jake says, breathing hard

“Shit-” You hear his friends say

“I dont give a fuck about some dumb bet, it was stupid of me–”

Your heart drops. Bet? What does he mean by that? 

“God- Why couldn't you just go after her like a normal person” jay says frustratingly

“You realise she’s gonna fucking hate you if you dont tell her” he adds

You walk further down the stairs, watching the way all four of them look at you

“W-what bet” You let out, hating yourself for stuttering

Jake's face drops in realization that you heard that, you don't even look at his friends, the ones who made you think they actually liked you. You just watch him. It was all just some play– 

“What bet Jake?” you say again, trying to calm your heartbeat, as he walks over to you, reaching for your hand

You swat his hand away “dont fucking touch me” and he flinches at that, hardly visibly. But he does. 

“Y/n-” He starts, you watch as the back porch door slides open, Gigi and Lyla walking in, with confused looks at the way everyone’s frozen in place, before their gazes fall on you

“Im going home. I- I can't do this” You say, suddenly too aware of how everyone is looking at you, unable to even look in Jake's eyes, you turn around for the front door, Jake calls your name again but you don't hear it.

Not over the sound of your heart, not over the ringing in your ears.

You can't speak when it feels like someone has a wire around your throat and you can't breathe.

You shut the front door behind you, sitting on the stairs immediately, trying to calm yourself, trying not to cry. You can't cry. Not here.

You don't look behind you when you hear the door open and shut, please don't be Jake.

“Y/n do you want me to drive you home?” you let out a relieved sigh when you hear Gigi’s voice, before standing up and nodding.

Gigi knows you, she knows you don't want to talk right now, so instead of pushing you, she turns up the music, looking at you every now and then as you stare out the window.

“You all can eat shit” Lyla says looking at the four boys in the kitchen 

“Espeicially you Heeseung, for not fucking saying anything.” She says before looking at Jake

“Ly-” Heeseung starts watching Lyla walk over to Jake

“How could you do that to her? You’re fucking terrible.” She says before storming upstairs, leaving the four of them

“I need to do something- I need to call her” Jake says pulling out his phone, Jay stop his hand

“She needs space Jake.” He says, watching him as he lowers his phone

“Fuck.” Is all he says, because Fuck himself for being so stupid, fuck him for hurting you, fuck him for not telling you sooner, if anything he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

But the least he can do is try.

୨♡୧

You cried as soon as you got home. You held it until Gigi drove off, she offered to stay but you never have people actually come inside.

Part of you regretted it, because you wish you had someone to hold you, even as you crumbled to the floor as soon as you shut the front door.

But you have no one. Not even you’re own mother, whose out with her new boyfriend, living her best life and leaving you in the past, like always.

Later that night you try and rememebr anything—how could you not see through it, of course it was some bet. He didnt mean anything he said to you, and you were stupid to think the most popular guy in the school wanted to ‘spend time with you’

Even as you shower, the memory of his hands on you not even 24 hours ago is still jarred in your mind, the reassuring touches, the praise.. But it was all just fake.

You couldnt sleep. For good reason. Every time you tried to close your eyes, your mind kept going back, trying to over analyze the situation, trying to think of an excuse.

It was 12:49 when you got the message

Jake sim: Y/n, im so sorry

Jake sim: Don’t shut me out

Jake sim: Please

Jake sim: Baby

Your press your hand to your chest, like it would stop the painful feeling in your heart.

You never answered him. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you finally fell asleep, you didn’t bother checking the time you did, because you knew you would just pity yourself.

୨♡୧

On Monday, you’re not the first one in class. Jake was. He sat in his seat next to yours, eyes flicking from your desk to the door, waiting for you to come in.

As soon as you walk in, he sits up straight, watching you walk, not towards the seat next to him but to some random one in the second row, where the guy who never shows up would sit.

He watches you take your stuff out of your bag, he looks down at the way your leg bounces, he hates himself because he knows he’s the reason you’re so fucking anxious right now.

The teacher talks like its any other day. Of course she would, she’s not going to stop the school day because he fucked up. When the bell rings you’re the first one out, he goes to call your name but stops when you rush out of the door.

“I almost beat Jay’s ass, like actually.” Gigi says before taking a bite of the cafeteria sandwhich

“Mom and dad nearly crashed out when they came home and saw I already was pulling his hair” She adds

“Can he stop fucking staring already” Lyla says, looking at you then at the table 3 rows behind where Jake was looking right at you

“Im going over there” Jake says to his friends

“Uh no dude- you’re fucking not” Sunghoon says, tugging him back down by his shoulder

Jake shrugs him off before getting up to walk over to you, ignoring the exaggerated sighs from his table

“Oh shit” Gigi mutters

“He’s like actively walking over here y/n” Lyla adds

You turn your head slightly to see him walking towards you, before standing up

“Im going to the bathroom.” You say, grabbing your bag and moving towards the door

Jakes steps falter when he watches you get up, he wants to yell at you, tell you to stop walking away from him so bad. But he knows that would make it worse. He doesn’t look at Lyla and Gigi before turning around and going back to his table.

His friends are silent when he sits down, the usual snickers, or comments don’t come.

You set your bag down by the sink, bracing your hands on it, looking in the mirror, “don’t cry, don’t cry” you whisper to yourself

“I mean I don’t get whats so fucking special about her, shes just like normal-“ You pause when you see two girls walk in, blonde, Clara.

“Well look who it is” She says walking further in, her friend beside her

“Jakes little slut” She coos, looking you up and down judgementally

“Im not-“ You start but she cuts you off

“I want you to stop talking to him.” she says, crossing her arms over her chest

“Clara-“ her friend starts

“No, this bitch needs to fuck off my man”

“You can have him.” You say, voice low

They look at each other confused

“I said you can have him.” you say, louder

“Just leave me alone.” you mutter, putting your bag over your shoulder

“The fuck-“ she starts when you walk past her before pulling you by your bag strap

She pulls your bag off your shoulder, making it fall to the ground with a thud, you don’t turn around.

You wait for the hit. Because you’re used to this, You close your eyes, tight. Trying to block off everything, when you hear Lyla

“What the fuck are you doing Clara?!” She yells, Gigi following in beside you

“Just teaching this bitch a lesson to not mess with my man-“

“Your man?” Gigi says with a scoff

“You need a fucking reality check because he does not want your ass” She adds, picking your bag up from the floor

Lyla comes infront of you “Y/n are you okay?” you nod, not because you’re okay, but because you have to be.

You block out the sound of them arguing, taking your bag from Gigi before walking out. Of course this would happen to you, and of course you’re running away.

୨♡୧

You dont talk about what happened the next day, they dont bring it up either.

They were laughing at something on Lylas phone when you got a text

Jake Sim: Are we still on for tutoring?

Jake Sim: In the library right?

You look back for a split second, over your shoulder to see him looking at you, his phone in his hand, you turn back around almost immediately, typing out a response, deleting it and typing it again

You: -Sent contact-

You: If you need tutoring so bad, he does Tuesdays too. Stop texting me.

You shut off your phone, putting it in your pocket, he watches.

Its like everything around him is silent. He cant fucking focus, coach even gave him shit for not doing good at practice yesterday. He tries to act normal, but the affect you have on him isn’t something that can go away.

“Earth to Jake” Heeseung snaps in his face to get his attention

“Motherfucker thinks he’s Jeff buckley” Sunghoon says through a snort

“Brought it on himself” Jay shrugs

“I need to get drunk” Jake says, running his hands through his hair, something hes been doing often lately

“And laid” Heeseung adds

“I can’t think about fucking another girl right now” He says, checking his phone again in hopes you sent a message

“I mean I heard Jungwon’s throwing a party after the game on Friday” Jay says, looking at the group

“Who’s going?” Jake asks

“Shit—if its Jungwon then probably half the school” Heeseung says, rubbing his jaw

“You know what, why not. The alcohol better not be shit” Jake says, making them laugh

୨♡୧

“Please y/n! We can come pick you up and everything, I know you’re not going to be doing anything either” Lyla says through the speakers of your phone

“Yeah, Fuck him, you deserve to go out, for once?” Gigi adds

“We know you’re not all that party type but just this once! Plus Jungwons house is nice as hell”

“I don’t know guys—What if he’s there?” you say worried, unlocking the front door to your house and shutting it behind you

“If he was going, Jay would have said something. I know they have a game tonight so I doubt they’re gonna wanna go to a party.” Gigi says, opening a bag of chips

“Okay but what am I supposed to wear?”

“Do you wanna get laid?” Lyla asks

“What—no”

“Im just kidding, wear that one black skirt I let you borrow and those low rise jeans”

“I never even wore it though-“

“Exactly why its perfect! Well come get you at 10, love you bye!” Layla says quickly before hanging up

You listen for Gigi, but all you hear is the faint sound of her arguing, presumably with Jay, before you hang up and set your phone on the counter.

You dont go to parties, ever. But here you are stepping out of your comfort zone, maybe its good that you’re. Maybe you need a change.

୨♡୧

“Oh hell no.” Gigi says once you all walk into the house, it's almost as big as hers, but you're not paying close attention to it because right now. instead you're watching Jake take down a shot in the kitchen. 

It smells like cheap alcohol and sweat. The place is packed, you take your eyes off him and look around, you recognize faces you've seen around campus, and some you haven't

You watch as Gigi storms over to the kitchen to Jay “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks Jay who looks at her like she has 2 heads “What am I doing here? Jungwon is my friend” He says back, you and Lyla walk over to the kitchen, following her. 

You don't look at him. You can't look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“I’ll tell mom and dad you ass-” Gigi starts

“Oh but that means they'll know you were here too” He says, faking a pout

“Shit” She replies, looking at you and Lyla

“Fine, truce.” She says, grabbing 3 red cups

You watch Jay hold out his hand, but she swats it away rolling her eyes before pouring whatever is in the bottles on the counter into the cups

“Drinks?” She says, handing you and Lyla the cups

“Please and Thank you, I need to find a hot guy to make out with” Lyla says taking the cup

“Im right here babe” Heeseung smirks, stepping closer to her

“Literally anyone but you” She says, walking away from the kitchen, you watch as he follows her

You hesitate a beat before taking the cup from her hand, Jake doesnt miss the way your eyes flick over to him for a split second

“Y/n can we-” He starts before a familiar obnoxious voice flows in the kitchen, Clara.

You watch as she walks in the kitchen, wearing practically nothing before she comes to his side, wrapping her arm around his. 

“I think you have your hands full Jake.” You say before walking over to the living room with Gigi

“Get the fuck off me Clara” He says, moving his arm

Sunghoon and Jay both look at him with annoyed expressions on their faces

“Why Jakey? She said I can have you” Clara says, words slurred from the amount of alcohol she's consumed

“What?” He pushes her back, not to hurt, but enough for her to get off of him

He walks over to Gigi, glancing at Lyla and Heeseung who are practically eating each others faces on the other couch “Wheres y/n” He says, tone serious in a way that has Gigi sitting up

“Why-”

“Tell me where she is Gi, im not fucking around.” he says, watching Gigi point to the back porch

You turn around when you hear the door behind you open, leaning against the railing 

“What are you-”

“Y/n- Fuck, please let me talk okay?” He says closing the door, the music and talking inside becoming a sound in the distance

“Jake, I can't right now” You say, looking down at your shoes as he walks over

“Please” His voice comes out slightly whiner than intended

“Baby, please look at me” He pleads, his composure gone. He’s done acting like he's okay with you avoiding him

You shake your head

He lets out a defeated sigh, you think he's going to walk away, give up.

You watch him lower himself to the ground getting on his knees just so you will look at him instead of the ground

“Y/n please listen to me” He looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed together, his pupils are blown. He can’t believe hes actually fucking doing this.

When you don't say anything, the words spill out faster than he can catch up

“Im so sorry baby– Im an asshole and I hate myself for what I did, I should have just told you from the beginning about the bet-” he cringes at the word “-It was selfish of me and I understand why you don't even want to look at me, let alone talk to me.-“

“-But I like you, so fucking much, Ive never felt like this before, but you changed that for me. You’re smart, you’re fucking gorgeous, you’re too kind for your own good, and I want you so bad, I want you so fucking bad my chest hurts at the thought of not having you. Everything I said in the car that night was true. I like spending time with you and I don't want to be friends, because what I feel for you isn't friendship–” He stops, trying to catch his breath, looking up at you, searching your face for any reaction, any response

Your hand is shaking when it comes up to his face, slightly brushing his hair out of the way “I..” You close your eyes before opening them again, “I really like you too Jake. But you hurt me, I let you in and it feels like it was all just some trick.” You say, trying to hold the tears threatening to fall from your eyes

“No baby–It wasn't a trick, please, everything I said to you I meant it–” He leans forward resting his head on your stomach before looking back up at you

“Every touch, I meant it.” His hand comes up to hold your waist, before he stands up, looking down at you, placing his finger under your chin, before running his thumb along your bottom lip “Every word” His other hand pulls you closer to him “Every kiss.” He whispers, leaning down, lips grazing over yours “I meant it all.”

You're breathing against his mouth, hearts beating the same rapid pace “And I want it all–so bad, I want all of you y/n, I don't want you to hide from me, I don't want you to run” He says, cupping your face in his hands, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours

“Please-”

“I want it too Jake” You whisper

His eyes fly open, searching yours, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, taking you slightly by shock with how desperate it is, his left hand slides from your face down to your waist, holding you close, like you would slip away if he let go.

He pulls back, just to see the look on your face, a single string of saliva keeping you two connected before he kisses your neck, whispering small “im sorrys” as he trails his lips along your jaw, making you let out breathy sounds that have him weak.

He captures your lips in a kiss again, tongue exploring your mouth in the way he’s been dreaming about ever since you started avoiding him.

He feels his cock hardening, he remembers the way he fucked his fist at the thought of having you like this again.

“Fuck–” He breathes out, before biting your lip lightly, making you let out a small whimper. “I.. I need you baby, please” He says, bringing his hand down to softly caress your ass in your jeans, you bring your hand up to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt to kiss him again before he pulls back “Not here.” He whispers, voice low, looking into your eyes with such intensity it has your knees weak. 

With the way you're looking at him right now, he wants to do it now.

But he’s not having sex with you at some dumbass house party. He can't help the smirk on his face when you whine as he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside, you don't look at anyone except him, as he guides you through the crowd, his hand clasping tight in yours, until you reach his car.

“What street do you live on?” He asks, looking at you, before pulling out onto the road, you hesitate, he notices “Y/n, no hiding” He says, putting his hand on your thigh. “167 EN drive” you reply back quietly, part of you hoping he wouldn't hear. But you remind yourself of the words he said earlier, he wants all of you, he said he craves it. So that’s what he'll get.

You watch his face as he pulls in your drive way, looking at your house. You don't see the look of hesitance, or disappointment you were expecting.

Your anxiety boils down when he steps out of the car, and comes to your side to open your door for you. “You’re not disappointed or anything?” You ask, voice slightly shaky 

“Dissapointed?” He asks, genuinely confused

“I mean, my mom just doesn't make a lot– I know its not a good area to live in either-”

“Y/n, do you think I'd judge you for something as small as where you live?” He asks, shutting the passenger side door

“I just thought-” 

“No. I’d be a fool to think like that. Nothing you do could make me judge you, the idea of doing that in the first place disgusts me.” He says, hand rising to brush his thumb on the side of your face, waiting for you to invite him in. He wants you to, he wants the reassurance that you trust him. 

You walk to the front door, grabbing the key hidden under the mat before unlocking it, and stepping inside. You cringe at the slightly peeled paint on the walls, but also thankful that having the house to yourself means it's actually clean for once. He shuts the door behind him, watching the way you look around, the insecurity showing in your body language. He turns you around to face him, pulling you close before tilting your face up. 

You look between his eyes and his lips before leaning up slightly, your lips grazing over his, before he speaks “tell me how bad you want this, tell me you want it as much as I do” He whispers, even though no one can hear him but you.

“I want it Jake– I want it so bad, I just want you..” you breathe out, and he closes the small space instantly, the feeling of your heart beating, the thrill of his lips on yours will never get old.

He lets you guide him to your room, before shutting the door behind him, he pulls back looking down at you. The needy look on your face as you try to catch your breath.

The room is dimly lit, the moon is bright from the clear sky, illuminating you, allowing him to see every emotion that flashes across your face.

He steps closer to you, hand coming to your waist, his thumb making small circles near the hem. You nod, and he slowly lifts your shirt above your head, eyes dropping to your chest, he can't help himself when his hand comes up to cup your tit in his hand, kneading the soft flesh through your bra. “Youre so beautiful” He says, guiding you until you land on your bed, He follows, on top of you in a second, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, it’s careful, timeless.

You kiss him back, lips desperately grasping onto each other as his hand trails down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, your breath hitches, he pauses looking down at you “can I take these off?” He asks, “y-yes” you manage to let out, not sure how you can even get out words when he has you like this.

He unbottons your jeans, sitting up to slide them down your legs, throwing them on the floor before looking at you, taking you in, trying to savor this in his memory.

He watches the way your legs close, stopping them with his hand "Don't hide from me.” He says, pushing them open, looking down at the way your underwear sticks to your pussy, biting his lip at the sight, you let out a soft whine at being exposed like this, because no one has ever seen you this way, this vulnerable.

He presses a kiss to your neck, “Have you thought about this before?” He asks, tongue flicking on a new found sensitive spot under your ear, you nod. He lets his hand trail down your body before cupping your clothed cunt in his hand, you let out a quiet moan at the contact.

“Did you touch yourself thinking about it?” He kisses the spot under your ear, pulling the honesty out of you.

Your mind goes back to that night he kissed you in the car, how you made yourself come on your fingers at the memory of his hands on you later that night– “yes.” You say, the honesty makes him smile against your neck

“Can you show me?” He whispers, sitting up again, watching the way you willingly trail your hand down your body, slipping your fingers inside the waistband of your panties to brush your soaking clit, closing your eyes.

You open them again when the bed shifts, watching Jake as he takes off his shirt tossing it on the floor beside your pants, before removing his own, you press harder on your clit when your eyes meet the bulge in his boxers, there's no way that's fitting in you. He watches your reaction, "I'll make sure you're ready for it baby” He says, palming himself. You slide your underwear off your legs, the fabric was making it hard to really touch yourself anyway.

Your hand slides back between your legs, circling your clit, the same way he did that time in the bathroom. “Fuck–” He hisses, squeezing his dick at the way your hand comes up to toy with your nipple through your bra.

You watch as he climbs back in between your legs, leaning down to kiss your lips, trailing down past your neck, leaving a trail of wet marks until his face is hardly an inch away from your pussy.

You move your hand to grip the sheets beneath you “Jake..” You watch as he looks up at you from in between your legs. He blows on your clit, watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing. He presses small kisses to your thigh, grazing over your sensitive bud with his plump lips. “You have no idea how bad I've wanted to do this” He says before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your soaking cunt, you let out a moan at the contact, hands flying up to touch his hair as he repeats the motion.

You didn't even know you could be this vocal, but with him, eating you out like a starved man, how could you not.

He flicks his tongue over your clit, practically drooling onto your pussy, before pressing soft kisses “Tastes so fucking good” He mumbles into you, the vibration making your hips buck, his hand come up to hold your stomach down, so you dont squirm as much.

You watch him, his eyes are closed, face expressing true pleasure, your juices coating the bottom half of his face.

He looks up at you, burying his nose in your pussy, letting the bridge of it pressure your throbbing clit before he sucks on it, mouth clasped around your pussy, flicking his tounge, swirling it, you tug his hair harder, but he doesnt care because this is just too fucking good.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out when his finger comes up to collect your juices seeping from your hole before inserting the single digit inside of you, the sound of your pussy squelching, and him groaning into you has your back arches off the bed when he curls his finger, his tongue flicking over your clit, before he adds another, you've never felt this good in your life, you watch him, the way his brows furrow in concentration as he brings the most pleasurable experience upon you. 

He fucks his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right, while his lips suck on your clit greedily, he looks up for a split second at the way your head is thrown back, before shoving his fingers deep, dick throbbing at the way you clench around them, taking your clit in is mouth, and sucking it, hard. You grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you reach your orgasm, your whole body shaking “Jake!” You scream out through a moan as your juices coat his face, soaking the bed beneath you. He greedily licks, and slurps everything you let out, not letting anything go to waste, before looking up at you. He pulls his fingers out slowly, watching the way your body trembles.

You bite your lip as you watch him sit up again, your arousal coating his lips, he runs his tongue along them, savoring every drop. 

He slides his boxers off, his dick hitting his abdomen, thick, heavy, and a bead of pearly white pre-cum at the tip, you watch as he spreads it on his tip, stroking himself in his hand. “You wanna know something?” He asks, watching the way your eyes flick between his face and his cock.

You nod quickly, making him smirk. “Ive dreamt about this moment almost every night. I remember waking up–” He looks down at your bare cunt, continuing “To see that I fucking came in my sleep.” You can't help the small gasp that leaves your mouth at the confession, "That's not all.” He says, pulling you closer, unclasping your bra and tossing it on the ground.

You bite your lip as the crisp air that hits your nipples, his finger comes up to toy with the sensitive bud, looking at your reaction, the little gasps that leave your lips “I fucked my fist so many times–everytime I imagined it was your pussy” He whispers, leaning down, letting his lips graze over your nipple, making you let out a desperate sound

“I thought about how you’d react when I did this–” He says before sucking on your nipple, his hand toying with the other one between his fingers making you moan, uncontrolled, you feel the way his cock rubs against your inner thigh.

He sits up, guiding his cock to your entrance, coating his tip with your juices from your previous orgasm. He slides the tip in slowly, letting your pussy adjust to the size, groaning, “Baby, I need you to relax okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, finger rubbing circles on your inner thigh “mhm” you breathe out, before closing your eyes, trying to make yourself less tense as he slides more of his length in you

“Fuck- youre so warm” He says, hand moving to your hips to steady himself before bottoming out, a wrecked sound leaving his lips at the way your pussy clenches around him.

He leans down, head resing beside yours before lifting to look at you “Im going to move now, can you take it?” he asks, voice strained, but gentle “Please–” You let out through a whimper, he brings his lips to yours before pulling out halfway and thrusting back into you, making you moan into his mouth at the stretch. His cock reaching places you couldn't even imagine with your fingers, the feeling of being so full is almost euphoric.

“It's like this pussy was made for me baby–you feel so good” He whispers, sliding out of you again, and then back in, hips moving in an agonizing slow rhythm that has you holding onto his biceps and panting desperately in his mouth.

“F-faster?” you manage to let out, making him chuckle lightly “You sure?” he asks, looking down at you and the way you nod frantically. His lips suck at your neck as he picks up his speed thrusting in and out of you, hips rolling, enjoying every sound you let out.

Your nails dig into his arms, your pussy squeezing around him “You close baby?” he asks, the moan you let out is enough for him to understand, “I wanna come in you while you come on my cock, please?” the begging tone in his voice making you let out desperate pleas, his mouth is back on yours, both of you completely lost in the pleasure of each other, moaning against each other's mouths before he thrusts into you, hard, your pussy clenches around him, grinding up and down as you ride your orgasm out, at the same time milking his cock, making him whimper against you, saying your name though it all.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, before slowly inching his cock out, his cum spilling out of your pussy, you both wince at the sensitiveness, he pulls back looking down at you

“Where's your towels baby?” He asks, voice soft, you point towards the second drawer of your dresser, he grabs one coming back over to you, kneeling down to clean you up, you admire him, the focused look on his face, he looks up at you smiling “What?” He says through a chuckle

“You’re just really cute when you're focused” He climbs up till he's laid next to you, pulling himself closer to your warm embrace, resting his face on your chest, making you let out a giggle before he looks at you

“I want to be your boyfriend y/n” He says, emotion raw in his tone 

“W-what?” You're caught off guard by the question

“Can I be your boyfriend?” He asks, voice low, almost shy

“Please?” he adds

You smile, biting your lip “yes, you can” You whisper, he tilts his head to kiss you again, embracing your warmth, you pull back 

“You’re not going to get me flowers or anything?” You ask brow raising

“Oh, you just wait for tomorrow” He smiles against your lips

୨♡୧

Jake left your house that morning, kissing you goodbye, and saying to be ready by six at the latest, you were already dressed at 5. 

The second you hear a knock at the door you rush to get it, swinging it open, heart beating fast when you see him, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, with a smile on his face

“Jake–They’re so pretty” You smile, taking them from his hand

“You’re prettier” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips before taking your hand and dragging you to his car.

He covers your eyes with his hands when he makes you get out of the car “Y/n you better not peak” he says, tickling your ear with his mouth, guiding you somewhere

“Shit- dont trip” He says, kicking a rock out of the way

You let out a laugh at how stressed he is right now

“Okay, three, two..” He removes his hand from your eyes, adjusting to the light you look around, at the open field, the sunset turning a pink/ orange hue in the distant, before your eyes fall to the setting before you, you cover your mouth with your hand, smiling against it as you look at the picnic before you

The Jake Sim set up a picnic for you at sunset. you can't help but giggle into your palm, turning to look at him

“Its perfect Jake” You say throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his lips

He smiles proudly, taking pride in the fact that he’s able to please you like this

He helps you sit down, before coming next to you, watching the way you glow from the golden light on you.

“You’re telling me Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon made these?” You say taking a bite of the small strawberry shortcake, the flavors melting in your mouth 

“Yeah, they spent all day trying to figure out how, finding recipes and stuff” He says through a laugh

“Said it was their own way of apologizing” He lifts his finger to wipe frosting from your chin, bringing it up to lick it, smiling at you

“Tell them they're going to have to make me 10 more batches of this, because it might just be the best strawberry shortcake to date.” You say, completely serious 

“They were considering opening a bakery” Jake says through a laugh, that has you join him

As the sun sets, you lean on his shoulder, you’re not thinking about the stressful things in your life like you normally do in quiet moments, right now it's you and him.

And you're at peace with that, because you feel like you've finally found your person.

“Thank you y/n” Jake says, turning his head to look at you

“For what?” you ask, voice barely a whisper

“Forgiving me, letting me in, it means a lot to me. And I'm really glad you did.” He says, moving a strand of hair behind your ear 

“Thank you” You say so quietly, he almost wouldn't be able to hear it, he tilts his head in question

“For being there for me, and accepting me.” You say softly, he smiles before he cups the side of your face in his hand pulling you closer, and kissing you, gently..lovingly.

୨♡୧

And if I wrote reader giving him head for the first time and he actually goes insane

Okay sorry guys i'm just down bad as fuck

Thanks for reading! <3

@heebambilee @apriglw @nikimuraaa @fics-lovebot @hi00000234567 @h7llow @sooberriesx @jvngw0nlvr @middstape @vveebee @si3rren @ilovewomensbasketball @periwinkleandtwilight @rianzysworld @ligmqballs @liaviva @renatojr @ily6968 @jungwon67 @enhypen437 @guliexe @sunnysidesins @xoxoamadeo @p--j--s--j @rki7jaykewife @dulzuraaii @fancypeacepersona @supahintohoon @vmpwon @jimmiwuwaiting @woninlove @poopieboat @woonielvr

[shyxcherry]

after the jokes | heeseung

summary: you two have fought ever since you were first introduced. constantly bickering and arguing until heeseung takes it a bit too far- especially when he overhears something he isn't supposed to.

pairing: heeseung x female!reader

warnings: frenemies to lovers, they bicker a lot, heeseung is a little bit of an idiot, he's also very down bad for reader, mentions of jake and jungwon from enhypen, also chaewon and yunjin from le sserafim, fluff, angst, miscomunication at its finest, smut, softdom!heeseung, sub!reader, nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 5.2k

notes: what do you mean cherry's writing for someone other than &team?? this idea hit me and i thought it would go good with enhypen. likes and reblogs appreciated!

lee heeseung.

you and him never seemed to get along. you were always bickering about something. anything from where to eat to who sits where. it seemed like every time you opened your mouth to say something, his snarky remark came right after.

you always fought back which you knew that was what he wanted. you could see how his face lights up when you respond to him like he's just waiting for it. you knew he treated it like some game of how long he could keep it going before you give up.

at this point, everyone in your shared friend group was used to it. they would all roll their eyes- someone muttering here they go again. they've had a couple of times that they had to step in when it got too intense, but neither of you never hurt the other's feeling.

until now that is.

your friends had decided on going on a weekend trip since it's been way too long that any of you had a vacation. the only issue is you didn't know if you were going to be able to make it because of work. your friends weren't happy when you told them.

"you have to go. i can't just be surrounded by these 3 idiots for 3 days." yunjin complained.

both jake and jungwon glared at her, but it was jungwon who spoke up. "rude."

"i'm going to try." you reassure her. "i'm going to ask if i can switch shifts with someone but don't get your hopes up."

"it's not the end of the world if she doesn't show up." heeseung said, face glued to his phone. you roll your eyes but choose not to respond.

chaewon let out a scoff as she threw an arm around you. "it would be the end of my world. yn knows how much i love her."

"oh please. i doubt any of us will notice that she isn't there."

you nearly flinch at his words. at the way he just said that like it was nothing. that you were easily forgotten- replaceable. you knew you shouldn't be affected like you were because this is what you two do. you're sure that he's said worse to you before, but he's never made a jab at one of your insecurities like this.

it hurt more because he was the one who said it. you knew it was your fault, falling for him when you knew he didn't feel the same. he just saw you as a game- someone to argue with. he wouldn't feel anything but annoyance towards you.

"don't say things like that." jake scolded, casting a glance at you. you and him have been friends longer than the others. he knew you the best out of them- specifically your feelings towards heeseung.

"it's okay, jake." you tell him. "he's probably right."

that was the end of the conversation. that was also the end of you bickering towards heeseung. over the next 2 weeks you went quiet with him. you stopped arguing in the group chat, and you barely interacted with him when you guys met up.

he instantly noticed and has questioned you a few times about why you weren't responding to him, and each time you would just shrug him off, giving him a different excuse each time. the others also noticed, but they just thought you had finally grown tired of the bickering, not that you were hurt by his words.

you kept it up until the trip. someone at worked swapped shifts, so you were able to go. even though you were still upset with heeseung, you were excited to relax for a few days, but of course things never went your way because you ended up having to sit in the back of the rental along with heeseung for the next 3 hours. you try to ignore him like you've been doing. first you tried to read which heeseung kept trying to talk to you.

"what are you reading?"

"a book."

"i never would've guessed." he answered making you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "what's the name?"

"love and other words."

"what is it about?" you stop reading and look over at him.

"miscommunication." you answer. "and how stupid people can be when feelings are involved."

he stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out what you just said. "i can't tell if you're being honest or not."

you shrug. "maybe i am. maybe i'm not. you'll never know unless you read it."

"no thanks." he says.

"then leave me alone so i can."

you stop for a moment, plugging in your headphones before putting them in your ears. you thought that if you listen to music than heeseung would leave you alone, but he kept bothering you. you jerk when he rips your headphone out of your ear, glaring when he put in his ear instead. you notice him grimace when he started listening to the song that was playing.

"we need to talk about your taste in music." he said as he rested his head back on the seat.

you roll your eyes. "if you don't like it, give me my headphone back."

"but i forgot mine."

"then shut up and listen."

"fine." he grumbled like a child, moving closer to you before resting his head on your shoulder. you freeze before glancing at him.

"what the hell are you doing?"

"shutting up and listening to your horrible music." he answered. "now be still, so i can nap."

you were unsure if you should push him away or just let him do what he wants. a part of you wanted this- him. but then you remembered his words from a few weeks ago about how easily forgotten and replaceable you were, so you ignored him, letting him nap as you continue to read.

he stayed there for the rest of the trip which you were unsure if you like it or not considering where you two stood. you get out of the car along with everyone else, staring at the place you would be staying at for the next few days.

"this place is nice." jake said as you all walked in.

you walk into the kitchen to notice that there was a pool in the back along with a pool house. "can we stay in the pool house?"

"yes, but heeseung called dibs on it already." jungwon said making you pout, but you didn't argue with it.

"you're not going to try to convince me to give it to you?" you look over when heeseung walked into the kitchen.

you shake your head. "no. that's the whole point of dibs. just like how chae called dibs for the solo room."

"are you finally going to tell me what's been going on with you?" heeseung asked, leaning onto the counter next to you.

"there's nothing wrong with me." you answer making him scoff.

"you have been ignoring me the last two weeks."

you roll your eyes. "if i'm ignoring you, why am i talking to you right now?"

"that's not what i meant, and you know it." he said. "you're quiet. you've never been quiet with me."

"i just haven't been in the mood to argue." you tell him.

"what did i do?"

your response was instant. "nothing."

he opened his mouth, but before he could question you more, jake walked into the room. "yn, did you need help with your bags."

"you're the best." you smile as you follow him out of the room, leaving heeseung behind. once your alone with jake, you let out a sigh. "i don't know how much longer i can keep dodging him."

"you wouldn't have to if you would actually talk to him." jake said as he picked up your bags before you two walk to the room you would be sharing with yunjin.

"and say what?" you ask. "hey the reason i've been acting so distant is because you said i was easily forgotten. oh and i also have a huge crush on you."

"that sounded good to me." jake shrugged as he sat your things down making you groan as you throw yourself onto the bed. "look, i just know that if you don't do something, i'm going to."

you glare at him. "you wouldn't dare."

"it's either me or yunjin when she finally figures it out." he says. "besides what's the worst that could happen?"

"he doesn't feel the same and starts ignoring me."

jake shook his head. "he wouldn't do that."

it didn't take long for you to think that jake was wrong about heeseung not ignoring you. it started out when you guys went to dinner. heeseung didn't sit next to you during the drive there like before. he also didn't sit next to you at the table which he normally did, so he could annoy you.

you tried to talk to him a couple of times during dinner, and he brushed you off each time. it hurt to say the least because he wasn't even giving excuses like you did. he would just stare at you with a look you didn't recognize before looking away.

the ride home was the same with him sitting somewhere else, and after you all got home and changed, you gathered in the living room to hang out. the only spot was next to you, so he was forced to sit next to you. it felt different. he was stiff, refusing to look over at you. even like during the ride here, you offered him one of your headphones, but he refused before abruptly leaving.

"what's his deal?" jungwon asked as you all watched him leave.

"you should know. you're his best friend." yunjin answered.

"he's been acting weird since dinner." jake said. "he completely ignored me the whole time."

"maybe he's just tired." jungwon shrugged before everyone turned their attention back to the movie, but you couldn't focus anymore.

you knew that something was wrong with him. he never acted like this, even when he was tired. you had a feeling that you messed up, but you didn't know what you did. you acted like you normally do, even trying to mess with him a dinner which didn't work. maybe jungwon was right, and he was just tired, or maybe he was finally pulling back like you were.

he never returned that night or the next morning. you had just finished getting ready when jungwon said that heeseung wasn't coming along with you guys to the mall.

"why not?" you ask.

"he just said he didn't feel like it." he answered. "do you think you could get something out of him?"

you shrug. "i'll try."

you grab your phone before slipping out the back door. you knock on the door to the pool house, slipping in when you heard him answer. he was laying in bed still in the clothes he slept in as he scrolled on his phone. "hey, are you okay?"

"i'm fine." he answered, not even looking at you.

"jungwon said you weren't coming with us today. i just wanted to see why?"

he set his phone down, moving to rest against the headboard as he met your gaze with a glare. "why do you care?"

"because we're friends." you answer. "i mean, i know we argue a lot, but we're still friends."

you expected him to smile, joke like he normally did. instead, he scoffed. "friends? why would we be friends when you clearly don't care enough to act like one?"

you blink at him, chest twisting at his words. you felt like you cared too much, and he feels like you didn't care at all. you open your mouth to respond but stopped when you felt your throat tighten. instead, you turn around, leaving without saying anything.

you walk back into the house to see jake waiting on you. "how did it go?"

"great." you answer, but he could tell you were lying as you tried to blink away tears.

"what did he say?"

"it doesn't matter." you say. "i don't feel like going anymore. tell the guys i don't feel good."

"yn-" he tries to stop you but you don't listen, running past him before slamming your door shut behind you.

you spent the rest of the day locked in your room, trapped in your own thoughts. you didn't know what to do. did you just leave heeseung alone, or did you try to convince him that you did care? the way he said it sounded like he already had his mind set up, so you didn't know if you could change his mind. you felt like you could only blame yourself. you tried so hard to keep your feelings from getting worse to really pushing him away.

now the only thing you could do was lay in bed while you listened to the rest of your friends laughing downstairs. you even heard heeseung laughing with them making your chest twist.

you heard a soft knock on your door. you lifted your head enough to see yunjin slide into your room, instantly making her way to you. she laid down next to you. "talk to me."

"i messed up." you admit quietly. "and i don't know how to fix it."

"it's heeseung, isn't it?" you nodded your head. "he's been acting weird down stairs. he's completely fine until jake says something, or if you're brought up. he just shuts down."

"i like him." you tell her, watching as she smiles.

"oh babe. i knew you liked heeseung."

"you did?" you ask.

she nods. "oh it's completely obvious from both sides which is why i know that he is jealous of jake."

"heeseung is jealous of jake?" you ask unconvinced.

"he followed you two upstairs last night." you jerk your head up at that. "that's when he stormed off and started acting different."

you think back to yours' and jake's conversation, and the only conclusion you could think of was him hearing you rant about your crush to jake. "jake and i was talking about my crush on him."

"okay. what did you say exactly?" she asked.

"jake said that i should just talk to him, and i said and say what? that i have a huge crush on you?" you answered- it hitting you the same time it hit yunjin. "he only heard that part, didn't he?"

"i'm willing to bet on it which means you need to put on your big girl pants and talk to him." she said making you groan. "look, i know he said something to you, and that's why you've been locked up here all day. but he needs to know the truth, so he can at least try to apologize for being an asshole."

"can't i just stay in here for the rest of the trip?"

she shook her head. "it's either you go talk to him now because he just went back to his room, or i drag you."

"fine." you grumble. "but if i come back crying, i'm going to kill you."

"it's a deal, but you have to let me go after heeseung first." she said making you laugh.

you drag yourself out of bed before leaving the room, dreading the conversation you knew you were about to have. you didn't even know what you were going to say, but you didn't have a good feeling about it.

you let out a breath as you made it to his door, knocking but not moving to open the door until he did. you gulped, eyes widened when he did. it was clear he had just came out of the shower. he wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of basketball shorts, hair damp and falling into his face. his eyes narrowed when they landed on you.

"what do you want, friend?"

you nearly flinch at his tone before recovering, deciding to just get the rejection you knew was coming over with. "i know you heard me and jake talking last night."

"why does that matter?" he shrugged, leaning onto the door. "didn't want me to know about your pathetic little crush on jake?"

you let out a laugh, trying to hide your pain with anger. "you know what? maybe i am pathetic. do you want to know why?" you didn't give him a chance to answer before you kept talking. "because why do i have a crush on someone who obviously hates me? why do i care about someone who can so easily act like i'm invisible- like i'm something they have to put up with?"

he stares at you as you finish your rant, silent as he realizes who your crush was actually on. "and in case you haven't figured it out, i don't have a crush on jake, but on the asshole standing in front of me."

you turn to leave, having said every thing you wanted to only to have heeseung grab your wrist. you try to snap your wrist from his hand, but he was too strong, easily pulling you into his room. he shuts the door before blocking it from you.

"what is wrong with you?" you exclaim.

"i'm not letting you walk away like this." he tells you. "not until we've said everything."

"i've already said everything i wanted to." you argue, glancing at the door he was blocking. you knew that if you really wanted to leave, you could, and you knew he would let you. that was when you realized that you didn't want to leave.

"then just listen to me." he says, almost begging. "i didn't know. i thought you meant him- that you liked jake. and i didn't say anything because i didn't want to hear that you like someone else. i thought that i lost you before i even had a chance to have you."

your breath hitches at his words. you didn't think yunjin was right about him liking you. you were fully convinced that you were about to walk out of here hurt because he didn't feel the same. "heeseung-"

"i wasn't ignoring you because i hate you." he continued. "i was scared. scared that you cared about him and not me. every stupid thing i said, every argument, and every time i acted like i didn't care about you was me just trying to protect myself from losing you."

you watched as he moved away from the door before moving closer to you. he stops just a step away from you, reaching out to grab your hand. "you're not just someone i have to put up with, and i can't forget about you because you're always on my mind. you're not replaceable. not to me."

"why didn't you say something?"

"because i'm an idiot." he answered making you smile. "i didn't want to mess anything up, but we both see how that turned out. i said things i didn't mean. i hurt you when i should've just told you the truth."

"how long?"

"since before we met." his answer shocked you. "jake showed me a picture of you. that's when i urged him to introduce us. and then i saw how close you two were, and i got jealous which started the whole arguing thing."

you let out a laugh. "oh my god, heeseung. you've been jealous this whole time?"

"i have, and i have no one to blame but myself." your eyes widened when he stepped closer to you, removing any space left between you before cupping your cheek. "i need you to know how sorry i am. for everything. the fights and the silence. i didn't know how to do it right, but i would like to try if you let me."

"you mean that?" you whisper.

"i do." he assures you. " i don't want you to be with anyone except me."

you lean into his touch as his thumb brushes across your cheek. "i don't want to be with anyone if it isn't you. even if you are an asshole."

"i know, baby. i'll make up for it." he promises, forehead resting against yours. you noticed that he couldn't contain his smile, causing you to smile as well.

"you better."

he glanced down at your lips, barely giving you time to think before he kissed you. you froze for a second before melting into him, hands reaching up to grip his shoulders. his hand left your cheek before slowly trailing down your body, feeling every curve before resting on your hips.

but what started out soft started heating up when his tongue brushed yours. you made a quiet sound that had heeseung biting back a groan as he pushed further into you.

"my god." he muttered as his lips left yours, feeling his lungs aching but unable to stop as his lips trailed your jaw. "i think you're going to be the death of me."

"you deserve it for all of the shit you put me through." you commented as you tilted your head back, letting him trail further down your neck. he couldn't help it as his teeth nipped your skin, causing you to sigh. "heeseung."

this time he couldn't hold back his groan. "fuck baby. say my name like that again, and i'm going to lose it."

"heeseung." you smiled when he bit down on your skin again, hands tightening on your waist. "hee-"

you let out a gasp as his lips find yours, cutting you off, while he lifts you into his arms. you hold onto him as he moves over to the bed, sitting down with you in his lap. you groan against his lips when his hands start exploring your body. you feel him shift beneath you, and that's when you feel him hard beneath you.

"i- fuck." he curses when you grind down onto his lap, throwing his head back causing you to start kissing down his neck. "if you don't want to go any further, we need to stop."

you hum against his skin, feeling him jerk which makes you smile, but you show no sign of stopping. "and if i don't want to stop?"

"are you sure?" he asks making you pull back to look at him. you didn't answer him, instead just pulling your shirt over your head. his eyes widen as they land on your bare chest. he's almost scared to move as he looks back at you making you laugh.

you grab his hands, placing them on your breasts. "you can touch me."

that was all he needed for his hands to squeeze, watching as you let out a soft moan. he leaned forward, tongue darting out to trace your nipple before wrapping his lips around it. your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at the strands as his lips stay attached to your chest.

"fuck. you're so soft." he groans against you. "god, i can't believe i almost lost my chance with you because i decided to act like a child."

"you're going to make up for it, aren't you?" he looks up at your question before nodding. he leans back up before kissing you.

"all night, and every day after if you'll let me." you nod your head making him smile. his lips find yours one last time before he shifts, towering over you as he lays you back on the bed. "you're so fucking beautiful."

your chest tightens at his words. "who knew you were such a sap?"

"only for you." you scoff at his words. "just wait baby. you're going to be sick of me in no time, but first, you gotta let me take care of you."

you gasp when his hand presses against your core, thumb instantly rubbing through the thing material of your shorts. "hee..."

"you're going to let me aren't you?" he asked with a teasing smile. "you're going to let me show you how sorry i am?"

"yes, hee." you pout when he pulls his hand away, so he could pull your shorts down your legs. you lift your hips for him, hiding behind your hands when you watch him stare at you.

"no, baby. we're not doing that." he pulls your hands away, smiling when he sees the slight blush on your cheeks. "you're not going to hide this pretty face from me. i need to see how good i'm about to make you feel."

you whine at his words before being silenced with his lips. he pecks your lips before shifting, hands trailing along your body as he settles between your legs. his lips find your inner thighs, hands opening you further for him while his lips travel closer to your core.

he arms tighten around your legs, keeping you open to him as his tongue licks along your folds. he smirks when you moan, legs trying to close on instinct. he let out a groan, mumbling something you couldn't understand.

his hands twitched, digging into your skin as you call out his name. you could tell he was holding back, wanting this to last as long as possible. his tongue moved in slow movements, teasing you causing you to shift- hips raising up in impatience.

"be still, baby." he chuckled when he heard you whine. "i can't taste you properly if you keep moving."

he dove back in, tongue pressing against your clit as he continued his messy pace. you moan when you felt him spit onto your clit before taking his hand, mixing it with you slick, using that to slide his fingers easily inside of you. you moaned, walls clenching around his finger.

"relax, my baby." he whispered as you adjusted to his fingers. "you can do that can't you?"

you nod you head, gasping when he started to move them, matching the pace with his tongue as he lapped at your clit. "fuck!"

"so fucking perfect for me." he mumbled, refusing to pull away from you again. his grip was tight on your waist, preventing you from moving as his fingers curled inside of you. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the strands hard enough to have him groaning into you.

"god, hee-"

"louder, baby. i wanna hear you scream when you come for me." his lips latched around your clit, fingers curling one last time before you reached your high. you cried out his name as he held you tightly, legs trembling like you were fighting to keep them open. "that's my girl."

he pulled away, climbing back up your body before slamming his lips onto yours. you kiss him back, pulling him flush against you, moaning when you feel his erection pushing against you. "hee..."

"what is it baby?" he asked, fully knowing what you wanted. he smiled when he felt you tug at his shorts. "i need words."

"i want you to fuck me." you said making heeseung groan. "please hee. i need you."

his lips found yours before he pulled away from you just long enough to slip his shorts off, watching as your hand wraps around his throbbing length. he groans as you started to stroke him, squeezing slightly before he pulls you away from him.

he nudges your clit with his tip, gathering your arousal before he lines up with you. "you ready?"

"yes."

he was slow, just barely pushing halfway into you before pausing and letting you adjust. he could feel how you clenched around him, a broken gasp falling from your lips at the stretch. "so tight for me, baby."

he stayed still until he felt you shift beneath him before pushing the rest of the way in. his lips were on yours as his hips pressed against yours, hands gripping your thighs tightly and wrapping them around his hips. he pulls away from your lip before nudging your nose with his. "you with me?"

"i am." you answer breathless. "i'm with you."

"good girl. taking my cock so well." he finally moves, pulling out before easing back in slowly. and just like before, he took his time, making sure that each roll of his hips was deep, hitting places you didn't think existed. your eyes squeeze shut at the pleasure, chest arching into his.

"fuck, hee."

"does it feel good, baby?"

you nod at his question. "so good."

you clenched around him, legs tightening around his waist. your nails dug into his arms as he sped up, moaning out his name. "god you're so responsive. i love it."

he could feel you trembling around him like it was too much, but you kept moaning like you wanted more. with the way you were tightly clenching around him with every thrust, he wasn't going to last much longer. he could tell you weren't either.

"hee... i need more. please." you beg, feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

"i've got you, baby." he quieted your cries, lips finding yours as his hand starts rubbing your clit. "is this what my girl needs?"

you jerk in his hold, trying your best to hold out. "yes. fuck, i'm close hee."

"are you going to come all over my cock before i fill this perfect pussy?" you moan at his question.

"yes, fill me up, hee. i need it."

with one last thrust of his hips, he felt you cling to him, orgasm washing over you. he coaxed you through it, lips kissing your skin, whispering praises between each one. "you did so good for me. proud of you, baby."

you whimper as you feel his thrust become messy, walls involuntarily clenching around him making him groan. his hips met yours one last time before he came, making you gasp as you felt him release inside of you. he collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavy while you recover from your highs.

"only a hundred more of nights like this, and maybe i'll think about forgiving you for being a dick."

heeseung laughed before lifting his head, a teasing smile present on his face. "a hundred seems like a lot doesn't it?"

"you may be right." you mumbled, pretending to think about it. "shall we settle for 3 hundred?"

"that's much better." his answer made you chuckle.

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss before he lifted himself off of you. he helped you get cleaned up and back in your clothes before he drug you back to bed, locking you in his arms to where you could barely move.

you laid your head on his chest. "i could get used to this."

"you are." he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "because you're never sleeping in a bed that doesn't have me in it."

you chuckle as you lift your head up, resting your chin on his chest. "what makes you think i'll let you stay with me?"

"oh, i'm not giving you the option to say no." you laugh at his answer.

"you're lucky i like you."

"i know, baby. and the feeling is very mutual." he responds, giving you a kiss before you settled back into his chest. "but your music taste still sucks."

"heeseung!"

[hadesss8]

Fashion is my passion.

[yunyunbear3]

im just gonna leave this here

[luv1sour]

this is the most insane video of enhypen ever

[kassy-djomunson]

i want him

[jenoddity]

Anton ⊰᯽─❊ ℳoodboard 青閑 ⭒˚⸝🫐 യ