Ronnie

20, i write bonk

[junsfriend]

past life — psh

SUMMARY: Sunghoon was an up-and-coming figure skater with a bright future, but he threw it all away to marry you. Thirteen years later, your marriage has failed, the kids don’t respect him one bit, and all his friends are wildly successful in life except him. He gets a chance to correct the mistakes of his past and change his life when he is miraculously transported back in time, before he even met you. But changing the past might cost him everything.

PAIRING: figureskater!sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 20k

GENRE: time travel au, angst, smut

WARNINGS: nsfw, mdni, plot with porn, unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drunk sex, creampie, cursing, choking, jealousy, dirty talk, spitting, oral, cockwarming (?), angsty sex, if i’m missing stuff feel free to lmk

A/N: This took me so long to finish y'all I started considering actually taking ice skating lessons. PLEASE read for my sake.  (Some scenes inspired by the movie 17 Again!)

thirteen years ago.

Sunghoon took a deep breath as the chill air of the rink, even from where he sat in the locker room, sent shivers down his spine. His thin black blouse with rhinestoned sleeves did nothing to shield him from the cold. 

He should have been used to it by now. But today would be the most important skate of his life. 

The World Championships. The event that would decide his place at the next Olympics. 

Just a few years ago, he had missed out on competing completely due to a knee injury. Sunghoon was determined this time to make his dreams come true. His seniors always said that Olympic ice felt different, more real. This would be it. His last chance before the younger, more talented skaters took his spot later down the line.

He was picking at his nails with his teeth, a habit he so desperately needed to let go of. Even with ten competitors ahead of him, Sunghoon was already on edge. You, his good luck charm, had not arrived yet. It wasn't typical of you. In your three years of dating, you never missed the opening skate of any competition he'd been in. 

It’s where you first met. You had been in the stands, taping your phone number onto a penguin plushie he’d caught after his award-winning skate. Since then, it's been tradition for you to sit in the same exact seat during local competitions.

His left leg bounced impatiently as he sat on the locker room bench. Sunghoon has sent about 16 texts to your phone already. He shook his head, unlocking his phone for the umpteenth time. Crickets. His phone screen photo of you blowing a kiss into the camera was taunting him now.

Where the hell were you?

Coach Jung patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t think too much. You're gonna psych yourself out.”

“I'm not nervous,” Sunghoon replied, unconvincingly. “It's just cold.”

Coach Jung rolled his eyes.

“You're not new to this, kid,” he doubted the young man. “You're gonna do great out there. This is what you've been dreaming of. Just don't mess it up.”

Sunghoon didn't know if that was meant to be motivating or not, but when Coach Jung left, he felt a pit in his stomach start to form. It's been years in the making. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this. The time he could've spent going on longer dates with you all went to extra hours practicing quads in the rink. He couldn't let his sacrifices go to waste. It would be a disservice to both of you.

He put his hands to his face and repeated a mantra of self-affirmations.

‘You got this, you got this, you-’’

“Hoon?” He heard your sweet voice call out. Your head poked through the locker room door before entering cautiously. Audience members weren’t typically allowed in here, but you always managed to sneak your way in.

He dropped his hands immediately, a wave of relief washing over him.

“There you are,” Sunghoon whispered to himself, rushing to you as fast as he could with skates on the carpet. You let out a small sound as he picked you up by the waist, spinning you around like a princess.

“Where have you been?” Sunghoon sighed happily, setting you down with a kiss to your temple. “I was blowing up your phone! I thought you died.”

You smiled, but he noticed how tight it looked. The light didn't quite reach your eyes, and your lips twitched as if it was almost painful to maintain. He brushed a stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Everything okay?”

You nodded, resting your hand on his as his thumb drew small circles on your cheek.

“I…” you trailed off. You were looking at the ground, at the ceiling, and even at the trash cans. Anywhere but him. “I want to talk to you about something.”

He raised a brow. Your fingers were quivering, and he noticed redness in the whites of your eyes. Were you crying?

“Of course, baby. You can tell me anything.” 

Sunghoon is worried now as he took both of your hands into his. He felt how cold they were, even more so than his.

“Can the remaining five acts please be on stand-by?” the overhead speaker blared into the locker room. That was him. He was one of the last five. 

He pursed his lips as he looked towards the door and back at you. Your mouth opened, just as flustered by the announcement.

“Let's wait,” you said in a rush, noticing the sweatiness of his palms. “It can wait.”

Sunghoon shook his head. Your voice faltered. He knew better now not to let these things linger.

“No, [Y/N]. Tell me what's wrong.” He stood his ground. Your eyes were watering, his gaze unmoving from yours. As you spoke, it was like the world around him went still. His chest felt heavy, throat so constricted he thought he would choke.

“I'm pregnant.”

No, he thought. It can’t be.

“H-how? We never– That’s impossible– We always use-”

His voice trailed off, afraid that if he said anything out loud, it would become more real. You pursed your lips, biting your top lip so hard that it drew blood. 

“Don’t you remember?”

two months ago.

You were laughing, he was laughing. You both looked insane, obnoxiously cackling at nothing, in the dimly lit streets that led to his apartment. You were drinking with the guys at a new bar, underestimating the power of tequila compared to the usual shots of soju.

Sunghoon's arm was wrapped around your waist, putting his weight on you to prevent himself from faceplanting on the ground. He had lost too many hands in poker with Jay and Jake, and instead of betting money, he took an extra four shots as punishment. It was a big mistake.

“They got lucky,” he blabbered, “If we played Go Fish, I would have wiped the floor with them.”

He was hiccuping, and that sent you into a further spiral of giggles. Sunghoon was always so darn cute when drunk, so different from his icy exterior. His cheeks were tinged with red, and his pupils dilated. You weren't doing all that well either, with your body so warm from the alcohol that you had shed your jacket on the ground just a few minutes earlier. Where that jacket was now is lost on you.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, pointing at his apartment gate. “We did it!”

Sunghoon stumbled to get his keys from his pocket. Opening the gate and then going up the steps felt like an hour-long operation with how you two struggled. When he slid down the wall by the entrance of his apartment, you collapsed with him. 

The two of you, by his coat rank, staring into each other with heavy-lidded gazes and too far gone to even turn the lights on. By then, your movements were already out of your control. 

You traced the moles on his face like divine art, cradling his jaw with such care. Even in the drunkest of states, he looked so heavenly. He was so pretty in the moonlight. 

You pressed your lips against his, slowly at first, tugging at the rolled-up sleeves of his button-up shirt. Sunghoon made a noise of shock before deepening the kiss, hands roaming everywhere until they met your waist. His lips were so plush against yours, hungry to taste every inch of you. Your tongues danced with an urgency you've never felt before. Nipping at your bottom lip, he coaxed small sounds out of you. 

Sunghoon lifted you, firm hands on your bum to sit you atop him. 

He broke the kiss to bury himself in the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sunghoon's lips found your pulse point, suctioning around it like he was drawing your heartbeat out of your body. You gripped his soft hair and tilted your head back to give him better access. He lapped at your neck, your collar bone, anywhere his tongue could access. He was addicted to the taste of your skin, to the taste of you. You always smelled so good, had him so riled up even in the most unassuming of moments. He remembered how you looked in the bar with this sparkly red dress. Remembered how it rode up every time you sat down next to him. Fuck. 

You felt him then. The tent of his pants and the friction of his hips as they hopelessly jut up to meet yours.

You whined at the contact. He was palming your ass now with both hands, massaging as he moved you up and down on the tightness of his jeans.

“Hoon,” you gasp. “Not here-”

He lifted his head to look at you, eyes so dark and full of lust. He wasn’t having it; you could see it in his face. His deliciously tense jawline. The bead of sweat running down his temple. You felt yourself clench around nothing just at the sight. How could a man be so gorgeous?

“Can't wait,” he hummed. “Need you now.”

He pushed your dress up your body, the material bunched at your waist.

You purse your lips in anticipation. He’s rock hard by now, and you can’t help but take it as an invitation to feel him. Your hands find his bulge, ghosting over his form. It jumped in response when you finally took hold, squeezing cautiously. Your cheeks warmed at the sight of the front of his jeans already damp with your fluids. Sunghoon enjoyed the view just as much as you did, his head tilted back to relish in your ministrations. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

Sunghoon’s hand, large and veiny, moved your panties to the side impatiently. 

"Hoon-" you gasped at the skin-to-skin contact.

His fingers traced the slit of your folds up and down, covering his digits with your slick. You found his swollen lips again to suppress your whimpers, saliva running down your joined mouths as you unzipped his painful-looking jeans. He was already prepping you for him, index finger cautiously pushing its way inside your plush walls. He groaned at the feeling of your fluttering warmth. Already, you were sucking him in.

“Always so fucking wet,” he muttered on your lips. You couldn’t help but grind down on him, a roundabout way of telling him to apply more pressure. To go harder. Rougher. To ruin you. He chuckled at your frustration. Needed to see more of it, more of you begging.

Sunghoon tested the waters and pushed in a second. Your moans were drowned out again by his merciless mouth. Tongues shoved so far down each other's throats, you swore you could feel him at the back of your neck.

He was fucking you onto his hand now, his palm making contact with your clit after every thrust. His forearm was tense, pace so relentless. Animalistic. You were practically bouncing on him, hands digging into his shoulder blades to chase your release. He loved the sight, wanting to hear you come undone just from his measly fingers in your dripping pussy.

“So desperate,” he hummed into your mouth. “Who's making you like this?”

Sunghoon was never this mouthy during sex, usually because he didn’t want the apartment next door to hear through the thin walls. But he had let go of all his inhibitions, the tequila still sitting fresh in his stomach.

“You, Hoon,” you cried out, legs shaking from the harsh pace of his fingers and your incessant grinding. “Please-”

You didn't know exactly what you were begging for, but you knew he could give it to you. Knew he was the only one who could. Your mind was filled with Sunghoon and Sunghoon only. The effects of the alcohol had made you a bumbling mess, pleading and begging for more. Your back arches to meet his fingers better, but it wasn’t not enough.

He added a third to relieve you, watching as your mouth opened into a silent scream.

“Hoon– Need it– Please– I need–”

You couldn't find the right words, couldn’t even keep yourself upright without his support. Sunghoon’s hands roamed up your body as one made its way to the back of your neck. With his thumb, he pressed down gently on the pulse point he was nipping at just earlier. His eyes were heavy on you, watching you so intently. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as your airways slowly constricted, as his thumb pushed against you. God, you loved the feeling.

“Enjoying yourself, baby?” 

Lightheaded, you were practically gripping his bulge at this point. The sounds between your legs were borderline pornographic, his fingers drawing out every wet squelch as they sank and twisted in and out of you. You felt so full of him, three fingers so deep inside you. But you could take more; you wanted to take more.

“Speak up,” he drawled, his voice slurring from the tequila. “Tell me what you want, or I'll stop.”

You sobbed, clawing at his clothed chest as he let go of your neck to let you talk. You gasped for air as you let yourself fall onto him.

“Need you inside me,” you cried as he pistoned his fingers into you harder. You wished he could just rip your underwear so you could feel his rough palm grind onto your bare clit. “Please, please, pl-”

"I am inside you," he teased. And all you could do was wail, shaking your head out of distress.

"Hoon-"

Your movements were forced to stop as Sunghoon's free hand gripped your thigh. His fingers were curved into you, stroking that spongy spot that he always managed to find. He massaged your G-spot at a steady pace, anticipating your climax. You wanted to move, but he held you down roughly. Your eyes were forced to look into his, and you felt the floodgates of your release start to open. 

“No-,” you whined. 

You were close, so close. But your mind was made up. Well, at least what was left of it.

“Wanna cum with you. Can I, Hoonie? Please?” you beg.

“Fuck-”

His grip on you loosened. His hand slowly left your tight folds, and he admired the slick that coated his long fingers. He brought them to your mouth, motioning you to taste the juices he coaxed out of you. With your doe eyes looking straight at him, you swallowed around him. Tongue flattened and bringing him in deeper.

His other hand reached into the back of his pocket, fiddling around to find his emergency condom. The one that became a necessity to bring around you. 

Sunghoon's mind was all over the place. Your tongue lapped at his fingers, sucking them so harshly. He'd have given anything right now to see your lips wrapped around his cock instead.

He'd almost grabbed the condom until you pulled his boxers down. Your mouth released his fingers with a small ‘pop’ as his painfully hard member slapped his stomach. You positioned yourself closer, adjusting so that his thickness slid against your soiled, clothed pussy. You cursed your stupid underwear for getting in the way again.

“B-baby-” Sunghoon stuttered out as you moved your panties to the side once more, his raw cock lined up to your aching hole. “Just give me a second-”

His hand tried to reach for his wallet again, but you interlocked them with yours instead. You shook your head, grinding against him cautiously. You don't know what's gotten into you. It's like the tequila was letting you act out your deepest, darkest dreams — ones of him fucking his cum so deeply into you that you were dripping wet with his fluids.

“Please?” you asked hopelessly. Your breath hitched. His cock met your clit, his precum spread all over your folds. Fuck it. You were too far gone. “I-I wanna feel you.”

Sunghoon would like to think he had self-control. Would like to believe that he was calmer than most. But the way your pleading eyes looked at him, and how your legs trembled in excitement. His intoxicated brain couldn't tell right from wrong. He wanted to give you everything you asked for. 

“Fuck, are you sure?” he groaned as you aligned his cock to your entrance, pushing down slightly to envelop his tip. He lets out a hiss, teeth gritting from the feeling. You were so tight, so fucking perfect for him.

“Mhm,” you mustered, wrapping your arms around his neck as his large hands met your ass again. “It's okay…”

You were sinking onto him now, his head buried into your neck from the sensation. You two had never done it without a condom before, always so careful. But he wondered, as his large cock was slowly sucked into your soaked pussy, why he'd never fucked you raw before. Sunghoon swore under his breath as he felt you clench around him. Fucking you with a condom was ruined for him forever. He could never put one on again. 

“Fuck, baby,” he willed himself not to move too fast. The stinging stretch of him had you withering above him, but you didn’t care. Not one bit. You clutched his hair as you impaled yourself on him, so lost in the feeling of him penetrating you so slowly. 

He was fully sheathed inside you now. Sunghoon needed a second to recuperate, but you were making it so difficult for him.

"Fuck-" he inhaled sharply as you grinded down on his pulsating cock. You were so impatient, already so worked up from his fingers.  

You were suctioning him, trapping him in your walls like you would never let him go. His grip on your hips tightened as he growled into your collarbone.

“Baby,” he said sternly this time, finding some semblance of sanity. “Don't.”

You whined, your hips stuttering through his tight grip on your ass cheeks. You wanted him to plow into you like you were his personal toy. Was there anything wrong with that?

“Why?” you drawled out, desperate for movement, for anything. Your eyes met his, and even through your drunken haze, you understood. He was close, already so on edge from feeling your raw pussy. And that made you want him even more.

You swore your hips moved on their own. You lifted yourself, shallowly thrusting yourself against him as he tried to hinder your attempts.

“N-no,” he grunted. “Too soon-”

You giggled as his hands were on your back now. Despite your protests, he did not stop you in any meaningful way. 

His grip on your ass was replaced with him pulling the straps down of your dress and bra to free your bouncing tits. He cupped them as you raised yourself higher, until just the very tip of him was left inside you. You took a deep breath, pushing yourself down on him without assistance. You moaned, feeling his heaviness in your lower stomach.

“Fuck-” he cried through clenched teeth. Sunghoon’s head was against the wall now, hands massaging your breasts so eagerly. 

He tugged at your nipples, pinching them between his index finger and thumb. Such a sight for sore eyes, seeing him so fucked out underneath you as you bounced on his cock. You wished you could engrave this in your memory. His parted lips and glistening forehead. 

You grinded your hips so helplessly against him, hands on his knees as you squeezed him through every downward thrust. 

“Baby, s-slow down.”

You're determined now, even as you start to feel that fluttering ache in your core. You wanted to do good for him, wanted to make him lose control like you would whenever he had you pinned to the bed and crying.

“Hoon, speak up,” you teased, mimicking his earlier words. “Tell me what you want or I-”

You couldn't finish your sentence as his hand meets the back of your neck, crashing his lips onto yours. His hands traveled down to your thighs, squeezing them roughly.

He thrusted up into you harshly, his grip on you guiding his movements. His pace was even more merciless than yours, not giving you time to catch your breath as you felt your inner walls contract around him. 

No! 

He needed to cum first. It was always you who came undone before him. You just needed to hold out, just for a few more seconds-

And in perfect timing, he found it. That part of you that had you practically screaming into his mouth. He smirked against your lips and hoisted you closer, fucking up into you as his fingers pressed firmly into the flesh of your thighs. Your insides churned with a tingling feeling, like something needed to be released. You pulled yourself away from his lips.

"No… Hoon-"

"Take it," he grunted. "You want it, right?”

You cried as his thrusts grazed your G-spot over and over again, his tip kissing your cervix at the right angles. 

“So fucking take it."

Your eyes roll back, the sensation was stronger and stronger until-

"Oh my god-"

Your climax hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you so unexpectedly that your walls wanted to hold his raw length in place. Sunghoon continued his thrusts, not caring for the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You had your fun. Now, let him have his. 

His hands spread your ass cheeks apart, guiding you down onto his painfully hard cock with fervor. Sunghoon felt his high inching closer as he pumped in and out of your wetness, ignoring your cries of overstimulation.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned into your neck. He's there. He felt it. You braced yourself for his sweet release. 

“Need to pull out...”

Your eyebrows furrowed, expression laced in devastation. As if on instinct, you clenched around him. You wanted it. Whatever ‘it’ was. 

“In me,” you babbled through strained moans. “Please, Hoonie?”

He grit his teeth. That damn pet name. You were evil, so fucking evil. With your pretty tits and batting eyelashes. Who was he to deny you? His thrusts were erratic, admiring as your breasts bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

His hips stuttered up into you. White, hot spurts met your cervix as you reached another orgasm from the sheer feeling of his release, mouth wide open. Your hips gyrated against his, easing both of you through your releases. His head rolled back, jaw clenched, and eyes wired shut as he felt you milk his cock of everything he was worth. 

You watched as a white ring formed around his cock was buried deep in you, still a little hard. You rested your body against his. Your eyelids were heavy, so content and warm in ways that only Sunghoon could bring out in you. 

“I love you,” he sighed into your hair, his own lethargy getting the best of him. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

And as ridiculous as it sounds, the two of you slept in that position for hours. Two bodies connected at the entrance way of Sunghoon's studio apartment. When the sun came up and you realized what was done in your drunken states, you two panicked for the wrong reason. Did the neighbors hear? What happened to your jacket? Were you gonna get a UTI?

Sunghoon's cheeks reddened from the memory. It had to have been that night.

“A-are you sure?” he stuttered. 

You nodded solemnly. You knew it wouldn't be good news for him. It wasn't for you either. 

You were almost done with university. It’s supposed to be the year you figured out what you wanted out of a career. So when your first wave of morning sickness hit you just a week earlier, you knew every plan that you had would be forever ripped from your fingers. 

To travel the world. To start new hobbies. It would all have to wait. This would be your life now.

When you told your mother, tears streamed down her face. She called you everything underneath the sun. But she knew what it was like to carry a life unexpectedly, so she hugged you through it. Your dad’s reaction was worse. He hadn’t spoken to you yet.

“Two months along,” you whispered. Though he could never regret that night, he realized now how stupid it must have been to ignore the alarm bells in his head. He knew better. You knew better. Why the fuck did it end up like this? 

“So…” He gulped. He didn’t know what to say. “What now?”

“I…” you started. Heaving a deep breath, you felt him tense up. 

“I want to keep the baby,” you swallowed. Sunghoon’s mouth was parted, and his eyes were blank of emotion. 

It made you anxious, his lack of response. 

When he didn't reply, you started again. “What should we-”

“Sunghoon Park. Sunghoon Park. Please be on stand-by,” the overhead speaker rang out. He didn't mean to, but like muscle memory, his hand let go of yours. Guilt crashed over him, and he couldn't bring himself to look into your wavering eyes as he walked past you. 

The competition. This was his last chance. Coach Jung's voice resounded in his head. Don't mess it up.

“Hoon-” 

Your voice fell on deaf ears. His hands covered his face again, trying to refocus. He couldn't throw this away. Years. It took him years to get to this point. He couldn't. He had to skate. 

Tears spilled over as you watched his back retreat away from you. You should have waited to tell him, but he had asked. He said he wanted to know. 

Your back slumped against the wall of lockers, clutching your stomach as you cried. You couldn't bring yourself to go to the stands and watch him perform.

You knew it was dumb. You weren’t ready, not even close. But still… You wanted to try.

But him. Sunghoon.

You leaned your head back against the cold wall, breath faltering through your tears. What did you even expect? That he'd be happy? Excited?

You let out a shaky laugh.

Of course not. It's not like you were either.

You stood up, dusting yourself off.

You'd figure out a way to do this, you convinced yourself. If it meant that you were by yourself, that was fine. He didn't have to be there. He had big dreams, ones that predated you. You understood, even though it hurt. 

“Next to skate, representing the People's Republic of Korea. Sunghoon Park!” 

The cheers that ensued soon after made your chest constrict just a little more. You just couldn’t bear to watch him skate now. It was all too much.

You trudged towards the ice rink's exit, arms crossed around you like you were holding yourself. You were proud of him, so proud. He worked so tirelessly for an opportunity like this. Missed sleep and took a gap year from college to pursue this. He wanted it so bad, and though it was heartbreaking to watch him walk away, you knew why. You could talk later, you convinced yourself.

But the thoughts still echoed in your head.

A professional figure skater couldn’t be a father—not now, not at his age. You knew that. God, you hated that you knew it so well. His life wasn’t what most people imagined. There was no glamor in it. 

It was practices at the crack of dawn in freezing rinks and endless flights to cities he barely saw beyond hotel rooms. He could only fund basic living expenses with what little he earned from winning. He had a part-time job working the graveyard shift at a convenience store to even afford competition fees and dates with you. 

He gave everything for this dream—his body, his sanity, his youth. 

But he tried. In everything he did, he tried. That was the worst part.

Because even with all that trying, you still knew. That there would be no space in his life for the tiny heartbeat inside you.

You knew he'd have to quit. There was no way around it. Raising a child takes too much time away from the rink. 

If he stayed, if he chose to be in this child's life, he'd have to give it all up.And it would be because of you. 

But this was your life too. Your body. Your future. And no matter how tightly you clung to the image of him at your side, holding your hand in the delivery room, learning how to hold a newborn with trembling fingers—you had to be honest with yourself.

You wanted this baby. Even if it meant letting him go, even if that meant standing alone with a life you never planned for, you’d do it.

Because you knew that if it ever came down to choosing between his dream and you, it would always be-

“[Y/N], wait!”

You stopped in your tracks, stunned to hear his voice so close. Like he was here and not on the ice. You didn’t even notice that music stopped permeating the walls of the rink, that the announcer had moved on to the next contestant. He was running to you, socks thumping on the ground like he had taken his skates off only a moment before. 

No. It couldn't be. 

He reached you, his arms wrapped around you from behind. You heard his shaky breath against the back of your head. His thumb rubbed your forearms, planting a small kiss on your hair.

“We'll figure it out,” Sunghoon blurted out when he felt like the silence between you two was suffocating. “Together.”

You turned around to face him, panicked.

“Sunghoon, no,” you tried to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. “You need to go-”

“No.”

You looked at him, pain etched in every part of his beautiful face.

“But that's your future,” you cried out, mustering everything in yourself to not melt in his embrace. He was making a mistake. He'd hate you for the rest of your life if he-

“No,” he said again, much clearer. More determined. “It’s you.”

His hand drifted to your stomach, and he smiled this time as he looked into your teary eyes.

“You're my future.”

You shook your head incessantly. “Hoon, you're not thinking straight. I should've waited to tell you. You're not in your right mind. You need to go back and-”

He silenced you with his lips, so soft—like it might break you if he were any less gentle. You fell into his touch, unknowingly pulling him closer. He kissed you again and again, hands holding yours until your tremors faded with his touch.

“I love you,” he would say between each peck. “I'm not letting you do this alone.”

And you smiled, a real, genuine smile.

“I love you too.”

You moved in with him in that tiny studio apartment, shortly after, sharing a bed that barely even fit his tall frame. The cradle he built took up the majority of the living area.

But it was nice, waking up with him every day. He talked in his sleep, would whisper your name in that sweet voice of his so lovingly. Some days, Sunghoon wouldn't let you lift a finger, would insist that you needed as much rest as possible before your due date. You had to convince him that your job as a receptionist was certainly not so physically taxing that he had to follow you to it every day.

You also got married. It was simple. Just Sunghoon and you in a courthouse with Jake and Jay, trying not to stifle their laughter as witnesses to your marriage ceremony. You wore the white dress your mother wore, and Sunghoon wore his best suit, tie tied by you.

“Say cheese!” Jake chimed as you two posed with your signed certificate. The two of them cooed at your growing belly.

You were showing now, a small bump that Sunghoon admired each time he saw you do your online classes on the kitchen counter. He never got around to buying a desk, even though he was also back in school full-time. 

He had that dreaded conversation with Coach Jung beneath the dim lights of an empty rink. Sunghoon told him quietly, almost like an apology, that he’d be hanging up his skates until further notice. He wanted to be there for you at every step of the pregnancy. If he was going to stick beside you, he was going to do it right.

Coach didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. The disappointment on his face said everything. 

And so Sunghoon hadn’t touched the ice since.

He couldn’t bear to set foot in that rink anymore. Not when he knew he’d only be watching from the stands.

Not when the sound of blades carving through the ice was coming from someone else’s skates.

Not when he used to relish in the cold air passing through his body. Now, the only wind on his face came from passing cars as he biked to his second job.

He picked up a shift at a nearby restaurant. Just as a server. The kind of job that reminded him how painfully ordinary he was without his skates. Sometimes, when no one’s looking, he’ll shift his weight just right and practice his landings in the break room, arms out, knees bent. 

Other times, he scrolls through YouTube during his graveyard shift at the convenience store, searching up his own name with trembling fingers, watching old performances through a phone screen. Reading comments. Trying to remember what it felt like to matter to people he never met. 

You noticed, probably more than you let on. You just tried not to pry. He would get distant when you mentioned it, like that part of himself needed to be tucked away and out of his sight. You knew he was afraid, terrified to look back and see everything he gave up. 

But when Sunghee was born, it was like his world started to make sense again. He held her like she was made of glass. Sobbed so loudly the first time he saw her, you thought he was in pain. 

But no, he was just overwhelmed. Taken by the way her tiny hand curled around his finger, how her cries quieted the moment he held her close.

He’d protect her, he swore to himself. That this—her—wrapped up in the pink hospital blanket, was his life now.

And maybe, for a moment, he believed that was enough.

But the thoughts never stopped. His eyes would flicker toward the old duffel bag in the closet, where his skates were still packed away. He gave that up. For you. For her. And he’d never say he regretted it. But you knew.

You understood what he was grieving. Because you grieved too.

That girl who used to dream of making art, she felt like a ghost now. Someone you used to know.

Your passions, the things that once lit a fire in you, now sat gathering dust. All shelved quietly the moment your body became a home for Sunghee.

And your parents. You were still trying to reassemble the broken pieces of your relationship with them. Your mother tried to be there for you in her own way, but her disappointment was loud in the quietest moments between you two. And your father… well, he still hadn’t really looked you in the eye since the day you told him. 

And though she was born healthy, Sunghee came into the world screaming. She was a loud baby, inconsolable most nights, and the exhaustion had tested Sunghoon and you.

You took turns because you had to. He’d rock her until sunrise, then stumble to his classes. He started falling asleep during his breaks at work, cheek pressed against cold metal tables.

He didn’t care much for his own health, but the bags beneath your eyes pained him. Your face, once bright and curious, had dimmed under all the sleepless nights and rising costs of diapers. You were both burnt out.

He dropped Sunghee off with his parents for one night and dragged you out to see your friends. It was Jake's going-away dinner.

“It’s so hard to meet nowadays,” you sighed. “Feels like I’ve been nursing a migraine for the past three months.”

Jake laughed.

“Sad I won’t get to see her grow up,” he said as he poured himself a beer. “Make sure to bring her to Australia one day. She deserves to see her coolest uncle play football.”

Niki rolled his eyes.

“No one’s paying for that long-ass flight to see you benchwarm,” Niki mumbled, chewing on some chips. “Have her come see me dance instead. At least I’ll be in the center.”

Jake smacks his friend on the back of the head.

“No need for any of that,” Jay chimed in. “She won’t have time for either of you. Papa bear here probably already has her future all mapped out. Skates on before she can walk.”

An awkward silence filled the room. The joke was lighthearted, but it landed too close to a wound no one had dared to touch in the past year. Sunghoon gave a quiet laugh, a hollow one without warmth. He brought the bottle to his lips and didn’t look at anyone when he spoke.

“Yeah... she’ll be a star.”

He eyed the ceiling, pondering what she would look like. Maybe just like him. Graceful. Passionate. “Olympic-worthy. Could probably win gold if we find the right coach early enough.”

You pursed your lips and stared at the condensation running down your glass. 

Sunoo cleared his throat, noticing the tense atmosphere. He raised his glass with forced enthusiasm. “To our beautiful Sunghee,” he cheered. “And to Jake’s success!”

Sunghoon smiled, but not really. He was happy for his friend, sure. But behind his facade, envy sat heavy on his tongue.

‘This night could have been for you. They could have been congratulating you. And you gave it all up. Now look at you. You’re a nobody.’

You couldn’t help but watch him throughout the night as he grew quieter, his sips of beer more like chugs now. You rubbed circles on his back like you always did when he got like this, hoping to bring him back into the conversation. But his eyes stayed glued to the back corner of the bar.

As you patted him, he pulled your wrist away. Not harshly. Not angrily. Just a simple tug. He set your hand back on your lap, his gaze straight ahead and away from you.

“I’m okay,” he assured you, but you didn’t believe him. Not then. 

Not ever, really.

Though time passed, life never got easier. The weight of responsibility pressed harder on your shoulders with each passing year. And while you both smiled through milestones and made do with the small hiccups in your relationship, you were content with this life. Doing laundry on lazy Sundays, Sunghoon singing nursery rhymes to Sunghee before school.

But after the birth of your second child, Sungjae, it had all started to rot.

Sunghoon’s longing for his old life never faded. It stewed in him, creeping into his thoughts at his corporate job after finishing university, haunting him on bus rides home. 

The bills piled higher. Your patience wore thinner. Conversations turned into quiet disagreements and tired sighs. You no longer fought. You didn’t even have the energy for that. Just two ghosts of your former selves moving through the same rooms, sleeping in the same bed, wondering what could’ve been. 

thirteen years later. the present.

Sunghoon adjusts his tie, furrowing his brows as he sees how crooked it is from the reflection of the mirror. He gives up halfway through. Fuck it, it would be a no-tie kind of day. He exits the bedroom, his footsteps making loud echoes on the way down the spiral staircase and towards the all-marble kitchen. He inhales slowly as he smells the fragrance of smoked spices dancing around his nostrils. It was enough to make his mouth water.

“What's cooking, good-looking?” he says, entering the kitchen with a wide grin on his face.

“Ew,” a voice rang out, soft and disgruntled. Sunghoon turns the corner and almost laughs at the sight.

“Shut up,” Sunoo scoffs, clad in an apron and silk pajamas. “Don’t say corny shit like that in my house until you get your act together.”

Sunghoon takes a seat on the barstool of the kitchen counter. He watches Sunoo maneuver the wide expanse of the kitchen like an expert.

“I'm a dad,” Sunghoon sighs out. “That’s kind of our thing.”

“Yeah, one going through a divorce,” Sunoo snaps back, monitoring his frittata closely on the stove.

Sunghoon's shoulders slump. Of course, the only friend willing to let him stay for an indefinite amount of time was the one most critical of his life choices. Sunoo insisted, in fact. Said his place was “feeling empty” anyway.

“So,” Sunoo coughs, acknowledging he might have taken it too far with his earlier comment. “Any word from her about the court date yet?”

Sunghoon shrugs, eyes on his watch as it nears 8:30 a.m. He'd have to leave soon to get to work. His boring, dull job as a fiscal manager at blah blah blah corporation. Even he barely knows what he does for a living.

“Can I borrow your car?” Sunghoon asks, ignoring his friend's question. He doesn't like to talk about it. Doesn't want to speak anything into existence, even if it was already happening. 

You asked for it two weeks ago. A divorce.

He's been living with (mooching off of) Sunoo since.

“Which one? The Bugatti or the Ferrari?”

Sunghoon gives Sunoo a side-eye, and the younger fails to stifle a laugh. He never wastes a second to flex on his friend, the only one out of their friend group who worked at a 9-5 job in total and absolute misery.

Heeseung's a streamer, Jay took over as CEO of his father's company, Jake was still playing football in Australia, Jungwon started his own Taekwondo studio, and Niki was traveling the world as a choreographer. And of course, Sunoo wound up in a big old mansion with his modeling career.

Sunghoon thought he'd end up like them. He got the right experience after university to find a stable job that didn't involve slaving away at customer service gigs like he did before.

He thought he'd move up higher in his company by now. Have a team to call his own, like Jungwon had, or make “small, high-impact decisions” like Jay claims he does. But none of that ever came. His heart was never in it.

Sunghoon sighs. 

“Whatever gets me from Point A to Point B,” he mutters. Sunoo cuts a piece of frittata from the skillet and plates it. He slides it over to his older friend and tosses a key from his pocket.

“Take the Kia Soul.”

Sunghoon groans. “You're fucking with me.”

“Mr. Park,” his coworker chirps into his ear. “I was wondering how your KPIs were this week…”

Sunghoon lets him drone on as he types on his computer. No private office, just a cubicle by the elevators. He hates how people tend to gravitate towards him for small talk. He's not very good at it. Never has been. It was a common joke within his family that he skated more than he spoke growing up. 

You dragged him out of his shell when you met, cracked him open with your bright-eyed gazes and addictive laughter. He’d planned to keep his head down when he was younger. No distractions and no detours. Just figure skating.

But how could he not fall in love with you?

He shakes his head, trying to push the thoughts aside before it settles in too deeply. He reminisces too much.

It’s like the past is all his mind drifts off to these days.

He leaves work on time. Gets stuck in traffic, like usual. And drives to the home you two once shared. A routine he's used to by now. 

He sees your car in the driveway and groans. He knew if he sees you, you'd bring up the papers again. Those stupid fucking papers.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says as he enters the once-familiar home. You've made changes to it since he's been gone. He squints to get a better look. In just two weeks, the kitchen's completely repainted with a soft green instead of gray. The living room was completely rearranged, and family pictures were taken down from the walls.

Sungjae is sitting on the couch, playing with his iPad. He only looks up for a second before he gets back into whatever is playing on his device. Sunghoon knew he should have hidden that thing before he left. Or, he guesses, before you kicked him out.

“Where's your sister?” he asks, practically into the void.

As if on cue, Sunghee walks down the stairs. Her eyes are already rolling, and she's still wearing her pink pajamas and bunny slippers.

“Get dressed, princess. We're gonna be late for your practice!”

Sunghee tsks. 

“C'mon,” Sunghoon adds with a forced smile. “You missed the last two practices already. You're gonna fall behind-”

“Dad, I already told you I want to quit,” she cuts in. “Can't you just take a freaking hint?”

Sunghoon stares blankly at his daughter, trying to hold back the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Sunghoon doesn’t know where she gets the attitude comes from. It's like when Sunghee hit the age of 13, she morphed into a walking stick of dynamite with a terribly short fuse.

“Well,” he begins, voice tight but even. “Why don't we push through it for today, hm? You know, back in my day, I wasn't always up for the challenge, but-”

“We get it dad!” she groans. “'Back in my day' this, 'if I were you' that. No one cares!"

It stings him more than he cares to admit. 

"Sunghee," he says, slower this time, the edge creeping into his voice. 

She just scoffs at her father's serious expression. She's never been scared of him when he's angry. That was always your role. 

"I’m not going," she stands her ground, crossing her arms. "You can't make me. If you wanna go so bad, then go to that stupid ice rink by yourself.”

Sunghoon inhales sharply, planting his hands on his hips to seem more assertive.

From the couch, seven-year-old Sungjae snickers.

“Listen here, young lady-”

“Listen here, young lady…” Sungjae mocks, in a tone much like his father's. Sunghoon whips his head to his iPad kid.

“And you, young man-”

“Sunghoon,” you say sternly as you appear at the staircase. “I already called to cancel. Indefinitely. Even if you take her now, she won't even be able to join the other kids.”

Sunghee sticks her tongue out at her father, prancing to the couch to pinch her younger brother's cheeks.

He blinks, brows knitting together. “What? Why would you do that without telling me?”

"Sorry, was that a decision that needed your approval?" you ask sarcastically. "You can't make her do something she doesn't want to do."

Sunghoon scoffs, pointing an accusatory finger at you. But he stops himself. His gaze flickers to the kids, who pretend like they're not watching from the living room.

He swallows down whatever instinct tells him to argue right here, right now. You two never fought in front of them, an unspoken rule. Even if you were technically separated, he would not break that now. 

“Let's talk in our room,” he whispers closely, and you roll your eyes.

“My room,” you correct, already turning to head back up. You don’t see it, but he tries not to flinch at your harshness.

He closes the door behind you two, the air thick with tension. He starts again.

“Why are you making decisions without me already?” he asks, trying to keep his tone level. “You cancel her figure skating classes and repaint the kitchen? Why are you-”

You sigh, already tired.

“We've been talking about repainting that ugly kitchen for years, Sunghoon,” you sigh. "You never wanted to actually get started on it. Sorry, I actually make time for the things I want."

So this is the direction you wanted the conversation to go in? Fine. He can be passive-aggressive, too.

"And Sunghee? Didn't you think to run that by me when I’m the one that pays for those lessons?"

You grit your teeth. He sees where Sunghee gets it from now, your hands crossed over your chest in disdain.

"Have you tried listening to her about practices? She gets injured all the time! Coach Jung is horrible to her. She’s miserable-”

His jaw tightens. “You don't think I was too? Half the time, I hated skating! But that’s what it takes. You think greatness just feels good all the time?! And the kitchen was fine. I don’t get why—”

"She's not trying to be great, Sunghoon!" you cry exasperatedly, your hands thrown up into the air. "She's not trying to be you."

You point your finger at his chest. “And you always think everything's fine. Until it's too late.”

Your words hung in the air, his eyes meeting yours. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he says finally, quieter this time. 

You retract your hand, nervous under his gaze. It’s intense, familiar in a way that still sends sparks throughout your body, even now. Even after everything.

“Stop trying to force your dreams onto her,” you finally let out, and you see his eyes waver. "Just because it didn't work out for you doesn't mean you can try again through her."

“That's not what-”

“Look,” you interrupt him, turning away from him to face the wall. “All I'm saying is that maybe this is your wake-up call. Things change. Not everything that you want is going to happen. Maybe learn to change with it.”

He scoffs.

You turn back around to face him. He's angry, but his face doesn’t give it away. It’s his trembling hands, how his posture straightens just a little too stiffly.

“A little too late to change when my whole life was already laid out for me,” he says through bated breaths. “It’s not like I ever had a choice where I’d end up.”

Your heart sinks. “And it's all my fault, right?”

Sunghoon’s eyes flicker, his gaze softening at your hurt expression.

“I didn't say that-”

“But it's what you think, right?” You try to look strong. You think of all the nights he lay awake replaying his old skating clips in the glow of his phone screen. The way he cheered for Sunghee during competitions, like his voice alone could ignite the passion she didn’t have. The muffled sniffles from the shower after the last Winter Olympics ended. You saw it all. You always did.

Sunghoon is silent, and you fight the sting in your eyes.

“I never asked you to marry me,” you say as low as a whisper, cutting through the silence.

“But I did,” Sunghoon says quickly. Desperately. “And I wanted to.”

You draw out a laugh, bitterness dripping through.

“I'm so sorry, Sunghoon,” you say, sarcasm spilling over your lips. “I'm sorry this isn't the life you wanted. But newsflash: you're not the only one living with regrets. ”

He steps forward, but you move back. The weight of everything presses against your chest now that the words are out. Now that it’s not just his pain taking up space in your relationship.

“You act like you’re the only one who lost something,” you say, softer now. “But I gave up things, too. I had dreams too.”

You don’t mean it cruelly, and he doesn’t take it that way. But it hurts, still.

"And I'm done walking on eggshells around you just because you can't stand the fact that you aren't living the life you wanted.”

You take a deep breath and continue.

“If I knew this was how we'd end up, we should have never even met-"

His hand hovers over your cheek. His lips, so dangerously close to yours. “Stop it.”

His voice is shaky.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

You don't pull away, but your gaze does not waver. “I mean it. Genuinely.”

You don’t see Sunghoon’s heart break at that moment. But he feels it. Feels the tightness in his chest, the way his throat closes up, like your words were enough to kill him.

“When did you become so cruel?” Hurt laced his voice.

“And when did you start resenting me?” you bite back, but the words barely escape your throat. 

He doesn’t answer, just leans in and kisses you. And you let him.

Because maybe this is the last time you’ll feel him like this. Maybe this is the last tender moment you two will share.

His hand lingers at your jaw, thumb brushing gently over your cheek. You feel your own breath catch, and for a second, you almost melt into him.

“I love you,” Sunghoon says, but it sparks nothing in you.

Instead, you hear everything he didn’t say. He didn’t say no or that you were wrong. So maybe he really does, you thought to yourself.

His kisses almost make you forget. Almost enough to blur out the long winters and how distant he gets. How painfully silent he is at the dinner table, eyes always somewhere else. 

His lips guide you through it all, each kiss igniting a memory.

How his shoulders sagged the day he started that full-time job. How his smile, once so quick to bring out of him, turned into something you had to search for. How the light in his eyes, so blinding when he was on the ice, dimmed, little by little. 

His hands trail under your shirt now as he peppers kisses down your throat. 

“I miss you,” he sighs. 

How he’ll wake up in the middle of the night and leave without a word, how you’ll see his location is at the ice rink, probably watching the Zamboni circle around. But he'd never bring his skates with him.

His lips meet yours again, deeper this time. His knee finds its way in between your legs.

You couldn’t do this anymore. It’s been far too many times, letting him wiggle his way back into your good graces. This was it. You would choose yourself this time.

Your fingers close around his wrists, gentle but firm. The warmth of his skin against yours nearly breaks your resolve, but you force yourself to meet his eyes. Even though it hurts.

“I think you should leave.” 

You release yourself from his hold. Sunghoon's expression is unreadable, but you know by now it's a facade. 

You could not carry his pain with you any longer. You needed him to let you go, just as much as you needed to let him go.

“Baby...” he starts, voice fragile.

“Don't,” you say quickly, lips pressed tight. “You can't call me that anymore, Sunghoon.”

His heart aches. He was supposed to be Hoon to you. Your Hoon. When did that change?

But he doesn't ask. He just watches you, eyes dark and full of all the things he never figured out how to say until it was already too late.

“The papers...” you pause, swallowing hard. You see a flicker of panic flash across his face. 

“They're on the kitchen counter. Take them before you leave.”

Sunghoon did not take the papers. 

In fact, just like Sunghee suggested, he went to the so-called “stupid” ice rink by himself. 

He sits in the highest row of the stands, arms crossed, jaw clenched. The kids glide around the ice below. Parents he used to talk to are filming on the sidelines, their laughter echoing faintly off the cold, hard walls.

Envy coats his skin.

Coach Jung is barking commands at the kids. He sneaks glances up at Sunghoon every so often, trying to be subtle. But he knows what that look means. It’s pity. 

At one point, Coach Jung had pulled him aside to tell him that Sunghee wasn't built for the sport. Not like Sunghoon was. She was too stiff, too in her own head about spinning in the air. She never cracked a smile when she was on the ice. She always kept her head low and movements small, as if it was still scary for her after years of practicing.

It's not like Sunghoon didn't notice, but he always thought she’d come around to it. He was pushed into figure skating by his parents, much like he was doing for her. It wasn’t like his passions ignited overnight. ‘It could be her dream if she let it be,’ he thought to himself.

Why couldn’t she let it? Why wouldn’t she even try?

Sunghoon sits in the stands, even after the kids pour out one by one and the lights start to dim. Coach Jung offers one last, forced smile before disappearing into the locker rooms. Sunghoon stays until he’s the only one left under the lights.

The Zamboni comes in, shaving and washing the ice to be used for the next day. When the machine finishes, the driver climbs out and heads up toward the stands. He's in his early twenties with blonde hair and dark eyes. He's moving towards Sunghoon with a smile.

Sunghoon stands up, a little intimidated by the younger man. His back turns to go up the stairs and to the exit, wanting to avoid a conversation.

“You're always here at night, sir,” the guy calls out. “Do you have a special connection to this place?”

Sunghoon stops in his tracks. He used to get recognized all the time. On the streets and in this very place. He used to mean something.

He turns around and gives a polite smile to the young man. He points at one of the many banners that hang from the ice rink walls. “Park Sunghoon” was in bright gold colors on each one. 

“I used to train here,” he says, with a hint of pride. “National champion for ten straight years, from when I was 11 up until I was 21.”

The guy whistles softly, impressed.

“We could use you, you know?" he says. "I think they’re looking for a new coach. Heard the old one's retiring soon.”

Sunghoon flinches. “Coach Jung? He hasn't told me yet. My daughter trains with him.”

He can't bring himself to use the past tense with her just yet.

The young man just nods. "I think he's planning to announce it after the next competition."

Sunghoon feels his chest constrict. He shakes his head. Another person leaving.

“I guess everything’s changing…” he whispers, but it did not fall on deaf ears. The stranger moves closer to him. "We're all so old now."

The stranger sighs. “Youth can be so cruel, can't it?”

Sunghoon, in his confusion, scoffs.

“The opposite, actually,” he argues. “Life's easier when you're young. Anything was possible back then.” 

He takes a second to continue.

“And it all can be taken from you,” he mutters, more to himself. “Before you even realize it.”

“That's the worst, isn't it?” The young man chimes in. He's sitting where Sunghoon was earlier. “When you wonder what could've been…”

Sunghoon’s mouth twists into something like a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That's all I think about,” he said, surprised at himself for opening up to a stranger. And it's true. 

What if he hadn’t stopped skating? What if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?

He sits back down, next to the Zamboni driver.

“We all have regrets,” the young man says, looking ahead, voice soft.

Sunghoon stares up at the ceiling and lets out a breathless laugh through the silence. Flashes of you overcame his vision. Nights of hushed arguments and facing away from each other on the bed. Nothing went his way after the World Championships. He lost it all. His passion. His dreams. You. 

“Why does it have to be that way?” he asks no one in particular.

A silence fills the room. The blonde turns his head to face him. “Maybe you could live a life without one, Park Sunghoon.”

He stills for a second.

“How did you know my na-” And as Sunghoon turns to face the stranger, he is met with nothing. Like the man was never there in the first place.

He's driving in that ugly, neon green Kia Soul, making his way back to Sunoo's egregiously large mansion.

Sunghoon's grip on the steering wheel tightens every time he checks the rearview mirror. He can’t shake the feeling like he’s being watched. That guy… the way he talked, like he knew him. Not just his name, but everything underneath. 

But screw that guy and whatever cryptic bullshit he was spouting. Screw his perfect friends, rich and successful. Every time they reunite, it’s like a reminder of everything Sunghoon’s not.

And screw the way Sunghee and Sungjae don’t even look at him like he matters. He tries. God knows he does. But they don’t know him. Don't know who either of you were outside of being their parents.

And you know what? Screw you and those damn papers too-

SCRREEEEE.

In an instant, his world is spinning out of control. Airbags deploy as Sunghoon jostles in a car that tumbles with him. The last thing he remembers is flashing lights and the loud sound of a crash. A sharp pain shoots through the left side of his body, and he feels as if he is coming in and out of consciousness. 

Sunghoon's eyes blink open, but he's not lying where he thinks he should be. It’s not the inside of a casket, nor is it a hospital room ceiling. He lies there with a cold and familiar feeling.

Ice.

Instead of the wrinkled suit he threw on that morning, he’s wearing sweatpants and a fitted black top. Not a scratch on him. No blood, no bruises. 

Was he dead?

“Is just one axel hard for you now, kid?” a voice calls out. 

He recognizes it almost immediately. Coach Jung. Sunghoon sits up, yanking his gloved hands from the coldness. What the fuck was happening?

“Get your ass back up and do it again,” Coach Jung shouts from the sidelines. The music starts again. Sunghoon’s eyes flutter shut, and he swears it's muscle memory. He knows this routine. The one from that night. The night he met you.

He moves. Instinct takes over. Jumps, spins, the sharp sound of his blades cutting clean into the ice. Every turn and landing exactly where it should be. He’s smiling from ear to ear now, almost childlike.

And if he were dead and this was the last thing he'd ever experience, then maybe dying wasn't so bad. He’d stayed off the ice for years, terrified that if he felt this weightless feeling again, that his regrets would consume him. 

“Perform like that and you'll win no matter what,” Coach Jung calls out as the music fades. Even breathless, Sunghoon felt like he could do ten more spins across the ice. His heart was racing. Everything felt so real. The soreness of his muscles, the cold air against his skin, the echoes of Coach's voice.

“What day is it today?” Sunghoon asks abruptly. "And what year?"

He’s pinching his wrist now, nails digging in and almost drawing blood. He flinched. It hurt like hell. Was this not a dream?

“Kid, did you hit your head when you fell?” Coach Jung laughs. 

And when he says the exact date, Sunghoon's confused. It wasn’t like today was anything special. Just a random Tuesday. So why would this moment, 16 years ago, be where he ended up after crashing his car? 

Looking at the reflection of his younger, more athletic self in the mirror, he just couldn't believe it. No matter how much he slapped his face or banged his head against the locker room door, he was still here. In this younger body.

He's walking home from practice now. His phone buzzes in his pocket of the boys’ group chat, the old one they used to fill with dumb inside jokes before you and the other significant others joined the group. But your name is yet to be in his contacts. 

And then he remembers. It’s three days before you’re in the stands of the smaller national competition he won many years ago. 

He’s not one to panic, but his thoughts are running in circles. Did he actually go back in time, or is this all in his head?

He sees someone in his periphery. A man around his age, standing near the curb, waving. Casual. Like they’ve met before. And they have.

The Zamboni driver.

He has a sinister smile, one that sends shivers down Sunghoon’s spine. Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate. He marches forward and grabs him by the collar. “Who the fuck are you? Is this happening because of you?”

The man smirks, clearly amused.

“You wanted to try, right? A life without regrets?”

Sunghoon glares at him, confused.  “What?”

“Park Sunghoon,” the blonde says sternly. “This is your last chance. Use it wisely.”

Before he can respond, the man shoves him back.

“What are you talk-”

And as he blinks, the stranger disappears. His head starts throbbing uncontrollably, and ringing sets in his ears. He hears a voice then, yet he can’t recognize it.

“What will you choose in this life?”

Even as the reality of everything he left behind starts to settle, he feels a strange sense of calm wash over his grief.

He knows what to do.

three days later.

Sunghoon sees you in the corner of his eye as he’s tightening his skates. You’re sitting with your friends, ones who had encouraged you to come and watch him. Back then, he was all anyone on campus could talk about. The quiet freshman with Olympic dreams who just missed his opportunity last year. He was skating harder than ever, pushing himself to the edge. Skipping classes. Shutting out everything but the rink. 

Until you came along.

He remembers your first date. He'd asked awkwardly, “How come you like me?” because he genuinely didn’t understand.

It’s not like the plushie you threw was the first with a phone number taped to it. Not even the tenth. He got plenty of confessions growing up, but he wanted to know why. What made anyone interested in an introverted and one-track-minded guy like him? He had no hobbies outside of figure skating, no real conversation skills that went past awkward greetings.

Yet, you teased him with that Cheshire grin of yours. 

“How could I not?" you say so casually as his heart bloomed. "I’ve never seen someone pour so much love into what they do until I met you. You know what you want. I admire that.”

Your words stuck with him. He’d never forgotten it. And even now, those words echo in his chest as he skates to the center of the ice.

The music starts, and he lets himself get lost in the rhythm. As he glides across the ice, there is nothing on his mind. He just takes it all in. The roar of the audience. The sound of skates hitting ice. It’s all he ever wanted.

The routine, like in the past, was met with a standing ovation. The screams of those in the stands overwhelm him. He goes to each section of the rink, bowing as tears threaten to spill over. It’s all too much. And not enough.

Then, he reaches yours. Sunghoon finds you in the sea of people like he did before. Your hair is down, and your face is softer. He chokes back on his tears, so enthralled by your beauty. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

He bows, more deeply than to the other sections.

You throw that stuffed penguin through the air at the perfect time as it lands by his feet. And as Sunghoon rises from the bow, your eyes are on him again. Expectant. 

You don’t know him yet. Not really. You aren't aware of the pain to come. The fights. The distance. The way he’ll drain all the color from your life. 

As he turns to move to the final section, he catches a flicker of sadness in your eyes. A frown is present on your beautiful face. He wants to make it go away, but he can’t. Not in this life.

And so the penguin sits on the ice, lifeless, as he skates off the rink.

That night, he skips the afterparty. He goes straight to his shitty studio apartment, the one with the thin walls and peeling paint, and collapses on the bed.

He buries his face into the sheets, the fabric dampening his sobs. The crowd’s cheers still ring faintly in his ears, but now it all sounds hollow. He screams then, into the mattress, at the thought of Sunghee and Sungjae. His babies. The only pieces outside of you in his old life that made it worth fighting for. Would they ever exist in this version of his life?

He tries to steady himself. Tells himself this was for the best. That your life would be easier without him as your words echoed in his head.

"If I knew this was how we'd end up, we should have never even met."

No years wasted, no sacrifices stacked on top of each other until they became resentment. No nights spent worried about bills or appeasing your parents, who never really quite liked him.

He wants to believe he’s doing you a favor.

But the tears don’t stop. Not when he thinks about the weight of Sunghee in his arms the first time he held her. Not when he remembers teaching Sungjae how to read with his tiny hands clutching the book, his eyes lighting up at each new word.

He’s letting it all go. All of it.

This was supposed to be his second chance. To live his dream without regrets. To see what it felt like. 

And it felt like hell.

The next few nights were abysmal. Practice became unbearable. He wasn’t eating. He wasn’t sleeping. His body hit the ice harder whenever he missed a spin, which was every time at this point. Coach Jung eventually pulled him aside, clearly frustrated.

“Go home, Sunghoon. Straighten yourself out and get the hell off my ice.”

But home didn’t feel real. None of this did.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep skating like this, not when every turn reminded him of you.

Sunghoon had to see you. Just once. Just enough to know you were okay. He told himself the kids would still exist somehow, even if your love story started differently in this version of life. That thought was the only thing holding him together.

He freshens himself up to go to campus, not having touched his backpack in weeks. He remembers your route like the back of his hand. Morning coffee at the cafe just off campus, right before your 9 AM. He will intercept you here, at this corner of the street.

Sunghoon's in a black turtleneck, wearing the glasses you would always steal off of him. The one that made you squirm under his intense gaze. The air was chilled, and his hands were buried deep in his navy jeans. He sees you coming into view, and he almost extends a hand to wave. 

But he sees him, too.

Beomgyu. Your ex. The one who would ask your friends how you were doing, knowing full well that you were married with kids. The one who eventually became a guitarist for a band he would pretend not to like. Sunghoon had asked you to block him from everything before, and you complied. It hurt to admit that his insecurities were still present even now, in another life.

Sunghoon hides behind a tree as he watches you two struggle through the cold. Your shoulders are close but not quite touching. He feels his heart rate accelerate, his lips pursed to prevent himself from saying anything that would compromise his hiding spot. 

“Beomgyu, you don’t have to walk me to class,” he overheard you say with a laugh. “I’m okay, really.”

Sunghoon’s hands balled into fists. Why did your voice sound an octave higher than it usually does? 

Beomgyu had the nerve to laugh, and it took Sunghoon everything in himself not to jump out.

You once told him that Beomgyu was your first love. Your high school boyfriend. You had ended things on good terms at the end of high school to find yourselves in college.

“Good,” Sunghoon once said. “Because you found me.”

And now here you were, looking happy. Grinning from ear to ear. What was there to smile about? 

“Doesn’t this remind you of old times? You used to stuff your hands in my pockets-” 

And though Sunghoon almost wills himself to leave the spot behind the tree, he doesn’t. Because he needed to watch this. Needed to watch you live the life you would’ve had without him. The easier one. 

He sees it now in the way your nose would scrunch to laugh at Beomgyu’s jokes. How you playfully hit the boy’s shoulder and hide your giggles with the sleeve of your puffer jacket. 

Maybe that’s why the stranger had chosen this year. To taunt him.

Look how happy someone else could make her. Was he the only reason why you were miserable? How much did he really hold you back? 

And so Sunghoon steps aside, shoving his hands back in his jeans. The icy wind cuts through his reddened cheeks. He asked for this. And he’ll have to live with it in this life.

Sunghoon turns around to give you one last look. But he also sees Sunghee, in her Elsa costume for Halloween. Sungjae asking for a mountain of kimchi at every restaurant. Your hand reaching for his across the dinner table.

He’ll have to live with it.

In the next three years, Sunghoon put his all into skating. He is consumed by it. Throws himself into it like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

His professors have to send him emails to remind him not to neglect his studies. His mother scolds him for missing holidays at home because he travels so much for competitions. But Sunghoon doesn’t care.

He loves figure skating. Loves the endless cheers from the crowd when he lands a clean program. Loves the headlines, the trophies lining his apartment shelves, the constant buzz of being "the nation's pride." It’s everything he knew he wanted. 

But, there’s always that one seat in the stands. The one you used to sit in during his competitions, holding up a handmade banner and shouting his name louder than anyone. 

Now, the face in that seat changes all the time. Some new fan. Some stranger holding a sign that doesn't mean anything to him.

He tells himself the past doesn’t matter. That this version of you, the one who laughs in cafes with Beomgyu, who’s always posting photos from new cities, new hobbies, new lives, wouldn’t even recognize the girl he remembers.

The girl who used to sit cross-legged on his couch, studying while he iced his ankle. Who wept with joy the night he won first at an international competition.

Now you’re in a photography club. A painting class. Pottery? Really?

You travel more now than you two ever did in your 16 years together. He scrolls past your updates with a numb thumb, telling himself he’s glad. He guesses that he did the right thing. 

And every time he walks past you with Beomgyu, smiling with all your teeth, it lingers. Those damn words are repeating in his head again.

"If I knew this was how we'd end up, we should have never even met."

Now he gets it. He guessed that he held you back from so much. Look at you with your wonderful friends and the amazing life you live without him! He scoffs. You deserve it.

You adjusted to him and his demanding training schedule, canceling plans with people so that you could maximize the time you had with him in the rare chance that he was in town. Maybe Beomgyu never would’ve asked you to sacrifice like that. Maybe he would’ve waited for you to come home from your clubs, instead of dragging you to cold rinks and rushed meals together in between practice sessions.

Sunghoon's fine. He swears on it.

Wake up. Go to class (if he feels like it). Skate for hours. Push through the pain. Go home. Cry into his pillow. Rinse and repeat. 

The Olympics are a year away. The World Championships are in two months.

And the night you two conceived Sunghee is tomorrow.  

tomorrow.

He wills himself to stay home, even when the boys suggest he hit up a few bars and clubs. It's the weekend after all. 

But Sunghoon is used to making excuses by now. Blames it on his training schedule, his diet, Coach Jung. Whatever would get Jake off his back. 

So when Sunghoon hears a knock at his door, and three boys pull up already reeking of alcohol, he’s surprised that he finds himself in that exact bar where he promised himself he wouldn’t be.

It’s just like before. Same music, same sickening smell of spilled tequila and too much cologne from Heeseung. And, as always, he’s bad at poker. Worse than he remembers. He’s downing a shot after every loss until his head is spinning and he can’t remember the rules anymore.

“I’m gonna… go… pee…” he tries to say, but his words get lost in mumbles and drooping eyes. He miraculously stumbles towards the restroom and does his business in the urinal. He’s dousing his face with water after barely washing his hands, and he smiles at his reflection. God, why didn’t he want to go out again? 

Sunghoon exits the restroom, shaking his wrists to expel the water from his hands. And his breath catches. He sees you.

Your back’s to him at first, your sparkly red dress riding up on the stool just like it was that night. You’re laughing at something the bartender says. And he swears for a second, time stops.

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Or maybe it’s the years of missing you bottled up too tight. But he starts walking over before he can stop himself. 

“Hey,” he says plainly, elbow hitting the bar. You turn towards him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

He'll be different in his first impressions this time. More experienced and confident than the shy fool he was when he met you. He'd match this new version of you, too. Show you what you were missing out on.

There’s a confused smile on your face.

“Hi.” He looks at you more clearly, his vision impaired from leaving his glasses at home and the tequila shots in his system.

“You come here often?” He’s too out of his senses to stop himself from saying it. But he doesn’t regret it because you laugh. He does too.

“You say that to every girl, Park Sunghoon?” 

His heart skips a beat. “You know my name?”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of the cocktail that the bartender just handed you.

“Call me a fan,” you smile up at him, and he swears he could have melted right then and there. “Your face is everywhere.”

Sunghoon licks his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I wish I could see more of yours,” he grins. “I think I’d skate ten times better if I saw you in the crowd.”

You scoff jokingly. “And here I thought winning was enough for you.”

It should be. It was supposed to be.

He promised himself he wouldn’t do this. That he’d leave you alone. He would let you go about your life, forget him, and be who you wanted to be. Who you should have been before he came to your life.

But here you are, impossibly close, and every part of him is begging not to let you go.

"You... you single?" he asks, trying to be casual. But his voice catches at the end. He wants to know. Needs to hear from your own lips if you actually chose Beomgyu in this life.

Relief washes over him when you shake your head.

"Wouldn't be talking to you if I was," you say with a teasing grin. Electricity shoots through him as he watches you. Too bright, too much. This short conversation, one he never planned on having, could never satisfy him. He could never get enough of you.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks before he could stop himself, arm outstretched for you to take. Your face stiffens, and he almost thinks you’d say no until your fingers wrap around his arm.

“Where to?” 

You barely make it past his front door before he has you up against it. His hands hold yours above your head, pinning your body against his. Sunghoon’s lips move against you ferociously, an unending battle between your tongues. You try to match his movements, but he is starved beyond belief.

You have no idea how badly he missed this.

Three years since he last heard you speak to him. Three years since he’s felt your lips. And the last time was when you asked him to pick up some stupid divorce papers from the kitchen counter. He needs this. Needs this more than breathing, more than eating, more than skating.

Sunghoon lifts you to wrap your legs around his middle. His hands find your bottom, giving a gentle squeeze that has you arching into him. He didn’t want to scare you, but he couldn’t will himself to stop. Your scent was too intoxicating for his mouth to ever leave yours.

You tap at his chest to push him away softly. With bruised lips, you whisper, “Can we go to your bed?”

He could almost moan just from the sound of you. His sweet, beautiful wife. Still so perfect for him.

His grip on your ass tightens as he maneuvers you through the studio apartment you once shared, laying you softly on the bed. Sunghoon wonders why you two just went at it like animals at the entrance way when the bed was only a few steps away back then. This time, he would savor it. Savor you.

He follows you down as he trails kisses on your neck. You crane it for him like you used to, giving him access to your most sensitive spots. His hands trail underneath your dress, teasing the hem of your panties. He looks up at you, silently asking for permission. All you could do was nod, opening your legs wide for him to continue. His dick twitches in his pants. You drive him insane.

Sunghoon peppers a few more kisses on your collarbone as his index finger prods carefully at your clothed pussy. 

“Already soaked,” he whispers into your skin, pressing the pads of his fingers onto your underwear. Liquid courage still very much in his system.

He feels bold right now, eager to impress. He doesn't know who you've been with in this life, but he'll make you forget them all. Fuck you so good that you forget those experiences. Remind you that he's your husband for a reason. His fingers hook the side of your ruby red panties, gliding them down your plush thighs.

“I bet I’d go in so easily, huh?” his drunken voice slurs out. "So fucking wet."

When you nod again, he tsks. So silent, and for what? His fingers find your clit, ghosting over it. You arch to lean into his touch, but his hand retracts.

“Use your words, baby,” he says darkly. “Whatever you want, I can give it to you.”

You groan, eyes shut in frustration. “Can’t you just fuck me?”

He laughs. Always so uncharacteristically vulgar when horny. He loves it. He loves you.

“Can’t I get a taste first, baby?” he says, his face already inching downwards. He pulls your dress all the way off you, so that your breasts are finally exposed. Your satin red bra matched your panties like they were made to be seen tonight. He didn’t know why that fired him up so badly. 

Would another man have you like this if he didn't make a move?

He dips his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your clit. You gasp at the suddenness, not knowing how much you’ve angered him just from your underwear choices. His tongue moves downwards, lapping at your folds like a man dying of thirst. His hands pinned your legs to open even wider, and you writhed underneath him.

“Please-” you beg, hands gripping his hair as his tongue plunges into your wetness. Sunghoon’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sensation. He could never, ever forget this taste. 

He pushes his tongue in and out as deeply as he can with his curled tongue, grinding against the mattress for any semblance of stimulation.

He would make love to you tonight. Until you remember who he was. Until you remember the life you built together.

His tongue does one agonizing lick all the way up to your clit, and your back arches just to feel him better. He’s sucking it harshly, tongue flicking at it in all the right ways.

“Sunghoon-” you cry out, your feet digging into the mattress to push your hips up to meet his ravenous lips. He pulls away and glares up at you. Your hips fall.

“Why’d you stop?” you whine, pushing his hair back down to your core. It takes everything in him not to laugh. He adores you like this. Desperate for him. Needy for him. Shaking in pleasure for whom? Him.

“Don’t call me that,” he whispers into your inner thigh, nipping at it slightly. He chuckles at your confused expression. “Hoon. If you’re gonna moan my name while I fuck you, I need you to say it properly.”

Your cheeks warmed. Heaving out a groan, you nod your head anyway. 

“H-hoon,” you test out. “Can you please continue?”

He smiles mischievously. “With what?”

You huff out in frustration. “I swear if you don’t fucking make me cum right now I’m going to-”

And his lips smash down on yours to shut you up. His hands replace his tongue as his middle finger draws figure-8s on your clit. He pulls your slickness from your folds and up to that sweet spot, relishing in the indecent noises between your legs.

Your moans are muffled by his tongue, body twitching underneath his. You taste yourself, so sweet on his lips as he caresses the most inner parts of your mouth. So dirty and so wet. He knew every part of you. Knew what made you cry, knew what made you scream. And fuck, he will make you scream. 

He pulls away from you to admire his ruthless pace on your clit.

You are clenching around nothing as your nails dig into his shoulders. He coaxes a gasp out of you as a coil in your stomach starts to form.

“Want me so fucking bad, don't you?” he teases, his other hand on the nape of your neck. Sunghoon tilts your head down to show you the mess you were making. 

His sheets are stained with your arousal, and his fingers are drawing circles on your bundle of nerves with such fervor. You catch a glimpse of his painfully clothed member. 

He was right. You wanted him so desperately, wanted to feel him inside you at that very moment. Your breath hitches. Fuck. You felt something building.

Your hips start to rise again, and it’s hard to formulate a sentence.

“Hoon! Oh my god– Fuck it’s– It’s–” You cry out as Sunghoon’s pace quickens, motivated by the sound of your moans. His other hand tries to anchor your thighs down. You feel it as you start to lose vision in your eyes. His thumb is rubbing so intensely that it draws a whine right out of you.

The coil inside of you snaps.

“Fuuuck…Ngh…”

A wave of pleasure washes over you, and you feel your juices coat your folds, dripping more than before. 

You're squirming underneath him, thighs twitching from the stimulation. He slows his pace, drawing out your orgasm for as long as possible.

His cock was in pain, desperate for it to make contact with any part of you. In this life, one thing he developed over the past three years of watching you in the shadows was patience. And you had none.

“God, just put it in,” you groan so casually, resting your forearm to shield your eyes away from him. You were so fucked out. Hair splayed all over the pillow in messy waves. Lips bruised, your cherry gloss staining your chin and his cheek.

So eager to just have him take you. If he were a weaker man (maybe Beomgyu), he would have listened. But like he said earlier. He would savor this.

His fingers travel down to your folds, one dancing at your entrance to tease you. Sunghoon smirks as you whimper. He pushes a finger in and bites his lip at the feeling. He hasn’t felt you, or anyone for that matter, in ages. In these past three years, he couldn't bring himself to even talk to another woman who wasn't you. It didn't feel right.

All the lonely, and frankly sad, nights touching himself to thoughts of you. Fucking himself on his wrist as he remembers all the nights you’ve shared in your 13 years of marriage. He had plenty of material to work with, with all of your past escapades, but it was nothing like the real thing. Nothing like feeling you again.

“Sunghoon, stop teasing me-”

His finger stilled, and you thought about cursing him out. He pulls your forearm away from your eyes, forcing you to look into his.

“Want to try that again?” he says, threateningly slow. The darkness of his gaze was enough to have you pliant and doe-eyed.

“Hoon?” He smiles, kissing you on the forehead softly.

“Good girl.” And just like that, he dips another finger in, scissoring them into you with precision. You’re a mess underneath him, overstimulated beyond belief, but he honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck. He needed you to be ready for him. His heaviness was throbbing painfully just thinking about how you'd take him after all this time.

How long would it take you to adjust to his size?

Sunghoon’s fingers squelch with each thrust, finding the soft spot he was so familiar with. He’s obsessed, drinking in the sight of your eyelashes fluttering, your hands gripping at his shoulders like your life depended on it. You were so wrapped up in your own pleasure, fucking yourself onto his fingers. Grinding up at him without a care in the world. 

“Look at you,” he laughs. “So needy.”

Sunghoon pulls his fingers out of you before he brings them to his lips. He hums, relishing the taste. He’d have to go down on you again later tonight. Taste you after his cock has had its fill.

You watch him in anticipation as he takes his pants off. You follow his lead as you unhook your bra, throwing it across his floor, sighing at the feeling of cool air hitting your nipples. Sunghoon pulls his throbbing member out of his briefs, pumping himself languidly. 

Sunghoon's eyes meet yours for a second before they go back to your cunt. He's churning something in his mouth, and you almost ask him what he was doing until he positions his mouth just above your folds. 

With sultry eyes directly gazing up at yours, Sunghoon lets his saliva drip down onto your pussy. 

You throw your head back on the pillow from the sight. Fuck, that was hot. He moves back up to you, guiding his hand to spread his spit with the tip of his leaking cock.

His dick smears your joined liquid in an up-and-down motion, pushing in ever-so-slightly. You gasp and clutch his chest, nails digging in enough to get his attention. He stops.

“I’m not on birth control,” you mutter, like you’re scared to tell him. 

“Should I stop?” he asks, even with his tip pulsing so desperately between your folds. You avoid eye contact, though he doesn’t know why. 

“Look at me.” he growls.

Sunghoon tilts your chin to face him, and with glossy eyes, you shake your head. He smiles, and a tinge of sadness hits him. You look so soft underneath him, so fucking beautiful.

He’s spent three years stuck in this version of his life, crying over you to avoid this very moment. But he just wanted you so bad. Wanted to feel you at least once again. Then, he’ll let go, he swears. This will be the first and last.

“Use your w-” 

You interrupt him with a kiss, wrapping your legs around him to push him deeper into you. He groans, collapsing onto his elbows. You dig your heels into his back as you pull him in deeper. Sunghoon's lips leave you to lay his forehead against yours. His breathing grows heavy, so lost in how your hole sucks him in.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, testing the waters with a small thrust after bottoming out. You squeak in response. “Fuck, baby.”

He wraps you in a tight hold, propping his knees underneath your thighs into a mating press. He fucks into you at an agonizing pace. It's so slow, you could feel every part of his rigid cock. His large size. His thick veins. The soft pulsing. It's so slow that you almost flip him over to ride him instead. But the desperation in his eyes stops you. His head buries deep in your hair, and you could hear the shakiness of his breath as he pulls out of you and plunges back in.

Sunghoon relishes the way you clench around him, your tight warmth pulling him deeper and deeper with each thrust. He drives himself into you with languid, but strong thrusts. He wants to engrave his place inside you so that you are ruined for anyone who might come after him. And again, he angers himself.

"You only this good for me?" he asks, searching your eyes for reassurance. But you aren't listening. You meet his thrusts, grinding yourself onto him. You want more. More of his touch. More of his length. Just more of him.

“Faster–” you whine, thighs pushing into his sides with each hard thrust. He was reaching the deepest part of you, your cervix kissing his tip ever so deliciously. Sunghoon doesn’t abide, so you take what he gives you.

"You this desperate for everyone, baby?" he whispers into your ear darkly. You shake your head, tears forming in your eyes.

"No..." you muster out. "Just you."

And even through all the tequila and the self-restraint not to jackhammer into you, he believes you. 

His hands are on your tits now, catching them as they bounce with the strength of his slow thrusts. He twists a nipple between his fingers, coaxing a moan out of you. He tugs and pulls, and it's enough to have you moaning underneath him.

You feel that familiar fire build inside of you. An ember that burned in your lower stomach and traveled down to the very tip of your toes. 

“Hoon! Please- Fuck- I need... I need-” 

You couldn’t form full sentences. His thrusts were so harsh and still so painstakingly slow. His eyes never left your face. He basked in the way your brows furrowed for him. How your lips formed silent screams as he hit that certain spot within you. Again and again.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers hoarsely, his lips so close to yours. “Tell me who you need.”

“You!” you cry out. "Only you!"

He smashes his lips against yours as he finally thrusts into you hard and fast. His hands on your breast travel down to your waist, locking you onto the mattress as he fuck into you.

You feel something pooling, feel the tingling of your toes intensify with his breath against your face. His moans are just as loud as yours, grunting in your hair like a beast.

“You feel so fucking good–” his hips piston forward, brushing against that spot with every movement. Your chest is pressed into his as you claw at his back. The sensation builds and builds as your stomach starts to tighten.

“Hoon- Oh my god- I’m-Angh!”

Your second orgasm rips through you, the tension within snapping like a chord. It's so much stronger than your first one. It hits you in waves as you weep through it, your hips grinding up to meet his unending thrusts. You were so sore, so sensitive, but his pace stayed so relentless. 

“Close– So fucking close, baby–” he moans into your hair.

He clutches your hips, driving into you with reckless abandon. Even if you had no idea who he was, he would have your body remember him. Sunghoon, in this life, would be your best one-night stand. He swears on it.

He grunts as he feels you clench around him harder, his hips stuttering against yours.

“I’m gonna–” He tries to pull out, tries to push you away. Tries not to repeat the same mistakes. But your arms pull him downward as legs wrap sternly around his waist. You push him in deeper.

And he comes. Hard. 

“Fuck-”

Sunghoon plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lips, drowning out his sweet noises as he feels his raw cock twitch deep inside. His hot cum spills deep inside you with thick spurts. Your lips parted at the warm feeling, and he could tell you enjoyed every bit of milking him dry. 

Sunghoon pulls away from you with a soft groan. He watches as his cum spills out of you. He brings his finger to your folds, pushing his fluids into you. 

As he meets your eyes, he’s shocked to see how concerned you look. Because unbeknownst to him, there were tears streaking down his face. And before he can fully sober up and stop himself, he says it.

"I love you."

You’re gone before he wakes up.

Sunghoon screams into his pillow, recalling his words like a bad nightmare. Stupid. So stupid. This was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be different.

That stranger, whoever he was, said this was his last chance. And what did he do? He threw away three years of silent pining just to chase you down on the very night the troubles in your relationship had begun.

Was he a fucking idiot? 

You never even said goodbye, never even replied to his confession last night. Didn’t even leave a trace of what last night meant to you—if it meant anything at all. He must’ve looked insane.

Sunghoon grips the back of his neck, exhaling hard. You don’t know him. You aren’t the same girl from his past life. You're different now. Three years. That’s how long you’ve had to become someone else.

And him? He hasn’t changed at all. He’s still chasing ghosts. If it wasn't figure skating in his past life, it would be you in this one.

He sighs and sits up. Practice. He should go to practice.

two months later.

“Are you messing around, kid, or do you actually want to win this thing?!” Coach Jung shouts after Sunghoon falls on his ass for the umpteenth time. His palms sting from the fall, but he barely feels it. 

The World Championships are in a week, and he hasn’t heard a single peep from you since you left his apartment. Hasn’t seen you on campus in his usual routes to watch you from afar. He knew he had reached a new level of patheticness when he actually went up to Beomgyu to ask how you were.

Turns out, you two weren't even as close as he thought you were. He smiled to himself after that, but frowned when he realized that it truly was as if you had disappeared.

“Sorry,” he huffs, out of breath from the demanding routine. “One more time?”

Coach Jung pinches the bridge of his nose. “How about ten more, you punk? Get your act together.”

Coach mutters something under his breath and storms off, leaving Sunghoon alone with the cold silence of the rink. He tries again. Falls again. He smacks his gloved hand against the ice, hard enough that the sharp sting shoots up his arm. He should’ve known. The moment he got a taste of you, he knew this would happen. 

No matter when or how, he would always bother you. He would always lose himself. He would always manage to ruin everything.

“Are you living the life you wanted, Park Sunghoon?” a voice echoes behind him. He spins on his skates. 

There he is again. The blonde prick. Somehow, he’s in his sneakers and standing still on the ice. His hands are smug in his coat pockets.

Sunghoon doesn’t take the time to question it until he’s skating at breakneck speed towards him.

He swings at him, but the stranger disappears into smoke. 

“Or do you still have regrets?” the voice is behind him again. Sunghoon turns around to the stranger, giving him that annoying, shiteating grin. 

“I want out,” Sunghoon says with a strained jaw. “Bring me back. To Sunghee. To Sungjae. To her. Now.”

The blonde laughs. “You haven’t even done what you set out to do yet. Wasn't this what you wanted?”

Sunghoon lets out a bitter sigh, chest tight.

“I get it, okay?" he says with wavering breaths. "I was selfish. I asked for too much. I get it now. So just... please. Please, send me back.”

The boy steps forward. His sneakers make no sound on the ice. Inches away from Sunghoon now, just a little taller than him. 

“You don’t always get what you want in life,” the stranger says with that sick, twisted grin. It sends a rush of dread through Sunghoon's body.

“I thought you would have learned that by now.”

the world championships.

He’s in the locker room. His left leg is bouncing up and down, nail splitting as he gnaws at it incessantly. Only ten contestants ahead of him, but he has the time to panic. Just like he did before.

Coach Jung pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t think too much. You're gonna psych yourself out.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, unlocking his phone to check the time. The lockscreen, snow falling past a dark streetlight, holds his gaze longer than it should. He sighs.

“I'm not nervous,” Sunghoon replies, unconvincingly. “It's just cold.”

Coach Jung rolls his eyes.

“You're not new to this, kid,” he doubts the young man. “You're gonna do great out there. This is what you've been dreaming of. Just don't mess it up.”

And when Coach Jung shuts the door behind him, Sunghoon puts his hands to his face. And instead of self-affirmations, he is trembling. Barely breathing, he replays the memory again. Of him spinning you in his arms. Of your kind smile.

Sunghoon told himself not to expect you. In this lifetime, you'd only met once. Only fucked once. But he still thought... maybe the universe would be kind. Maybe you’d show up like you did back then.

“Can the remaining five acts please be on stand-by?” the overhead speaker blares into the locker room. That's him. He's one of the last five. 

There’s no one to hold him back this time. No distractions. Just an aching in his chest. 

Sunghoon's by the stands now. He watches with shaky hands as the crowd ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ at his competitors’ routines. He hates watching before his turn. 

His eyes naturally fall on a seat in the stands. He blinks, rubbing his eyes to check if he was hallucinating. 

Someone sits there. Not a stranger. Not this time. It's you. Your brows furrowed like you were forcing yourself not to enjoy his competitor’s performance. Wearing the same outfit. He huffs a laugh under his breath. What are you doing here?

As the routines passed one by one, he could not take his eyes off you. Even from afar, your eyes glisten so beautifully. The same eyes that once glowed, helping the kids with homework. The same eyes that looked at him across the table after long days and short tempers. His wife. The mother of his children. The version of life he gave up for this one.

Now, he would have to settle for this. Longing stares and a heartbeat he could hear in his ears.

“Next to skate, representing the People's Republic of Korea. Sunghoon Park!”

He steps onto the ice with a big smile on his face. He forces it out, forces himself to act fine when you cheer at the sound of his name. He takes his pose at the center of the ice.

The music begins. His edges wobble, nerves bleeding into the blade. He practiced day and night, no distractions. Not even you. So why… Why was this happening? 

He takes in a deep breath as he prepares himself for the first spin. He’s skating backwards, building up momentum. He pushes off the ice. Toe pick hits.

Sunghoon rose high. He spots himself. One. Two. Three. Almost four– but his shoulders tilt, the axis too loose. The rotation slows. A half-second of weightlessness gives way to gravity, and he’s tumbling onto the ice hard. 

Gasps echo through the arena, and then applause as he brushes himself back up and onto his skates again.

He gets up. He keeps going. Muscle memory takes over. The rest of the routine is clean. Almost perfect, but not enough. 

The first quad... He fucked it up. He bows, head down, as if apologizing for even trying.

And when the score is announced while he's sitting on the sidelines, his body is limp. He barely reacts, face blank with emotion.

He could blame you for it. Pretend you were the reason why his routine didn't score high. But the truth is, he stopped believing in excuses a long time ago.

Years of hating himself led here. All this time, resenting the path he took, only to fuck this one up, too. 

Sunghoon had to laugh. He deserves it. Of course he did. The low score. You leaving him. The heartache. 

Everything he thought he was capable of, everything he pushed aside to have this moment. None of it mattered without you. 

As he rises from his seat on the floor, he searches for you in the endless crowd of faces. The other competitors pass by him with pity; he sees it in everyone’s faces. But they don't matter. 

Because you're gone. Your seat is empty. 

"Kid-" 

He pushes past Coach Jung without looking back. There's nothing left to say.

Sunghoon pulls his skates off skillfully, breaking into a sprint towards the exit. He runs with only socks separating him from the floor. 

Then he sees you, clutching your stomach and moving toward the exit. His breath catches. Somehow, he knows. He's seen it all play out before.

“[Y/N], wait!”

You stop in your tracks, hands trembling. You turn around, and he is already clutching your face, kissing you so deeply. You would have every right to push him away, to call him a creep and spit every insult at him. But you don’t, and he doesn’t understand why.

Instead, you lean into his touch, fingers fisting the thin fabric of his blouse. He’s the first to pull away, forehead resting against yours.

“Why are you here?” he asks. It’s not the only question he has, but it’s the first that comes out. You’re crying now, eyes wide, mouth parted. But why?

“I was just…” You try, but you fail to find the right words. “I just came to support you?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. He doesn't buy it. Not for a second. Your voice faltered. He knew better now not to let things linger.

“You came to tell me something,” he says knowingly, replaying the scene of the past in his head as it happens right in front of him. He smiles sadly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “What is it?”

You flinch.

“I can’t,” you whisper, the first barrage of tears falling down your face. “It'll ruin you.”

He laughs then. Quiet. Tired. Even in this life, you were so selfless. He doesn’t deserve you. Never did.

“You always say that. Even now.”

He takes your hands into his.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks, taking the words right out of your lips. Your mouth opens in shock.

“How did you-?”

“We'll figure it out,” Sunghoon interrupts softly. He was smiling now. Sunghee was here. She was growing inside you. “Together.”

For a moment, something shifts. You search his face like you’re looking for confirmation. And just like that, you pull away. What? It stings. 

This didn't happen before. Why were you-

“You went back," you say. "Didn’t you?” Your voice sounds foreign now, laced with hurt. It’s his turn to look confused. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, hands reaching for yours again. You avoid them, and he feels a sharp pain in his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“You… You went back in time like I did, right?” Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s how you knew.”

He freezes.

It clicks. Like cold water hitting his skin. He remembers the first time he saw you in this life. How carefully he avoided you. How he left the penguin plushie behind, just like before. How badly you’d looked at him after that. It all makes sense now.

“I didn’t want to avoid you,” he musters. “I had every intention of finding you again. I passed by that damn cafe every day just to see you-”

You shake your head, but he keeps going, vomiting out word after word.

“I even tried to talk to you, but you looked so happy. All I could think about was the last time we spoke. How you said you regretted us. Watching you with Beomgyu, or whatever his name is-"

“Sunghoon-” 

“I was fucking miserable-” His voice cracks.

“Sunghoon-” You’ve never heard him talk this much. Never seen him look so broken.

“And I couldn’t even fight the guy who dragged me into this mess. I was stuck. Thinking about you. About us. About Sunghee. Sungjae. God, I missed you all so fucking much it hurt to breathe—”

“Sunghoon, please—”

“And I should’ve just caught that stupid penguin. I should've just relived our memories together. I should’ve been a better man, a better husband, a better father. But I just keep fucking it up. Every single time, even now-”

“Hoon!” you shout, grabbing his face with your hands. His words die off. He finally breathes. You don’t look angry, not at him at least.

“I know,” you say quietly. “Because I didn’t put my number on the penguin.”

His mouth parts slightly. "Wha-"

"I thought I was the one who messed it all up," you confess. “When you didn’t pick up the plush, I thought it was because of me. Because I tried to change things.” 

You swallow back your tears as he listens to you intently, your hands sliding to his chest.

“I thought you’d be better off without me, too.”

You let out a bitter laugh.

“I tried to fill the space,” you continue. “Tried to pick up things I couldn't before. But all I think about was Sunghee and Sungjae."

Your eyes waver, lips pressed together tightly.

"And you," you breathe out. "I saw you skating, training so hard, and you looked happy. I couldn’t bring myself to take it away from you again.”

You pause, lips trembling.

“So I made a plan. I thought—if I could just get Sunghee back, maybe one day I’d find you again for Sungjae.”

You both let out a shaky laugh.

"So then I went to the bar," you sigh. "I wore that red dress and I just hoped you would find your way to me again-”

“Of course I would,” Sunghoon interrupts, kissing your temple. “I always do.”

“And it worked.” You look at the ground like you're ashamed. “The test was positive. I wasn’t planning on telling you.”

Sunghoon takes your hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes assure you.

“And then you fell during your routine,” you whisper, a sad laugh slipping out. "I thought… I avoided you all this time for nothing.”

He laughs too. “I wasn’t even going to win anyway.”

Sunghoon pulls you back into a hug, stroking your hair ever-so-softly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For making you ever feel like I regretted choosing you.”

And you didn’t know you needed to hear those exact words until you sob into his chest.

Sunghoon soothes you. He’s had enough crying. All he is now is grateful. The pain, the mourning. It all led him here. 

“This time we’ll do it right,” he assures you. “I love you. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

You pull away from him, eyes wet but smiling.

“I love you too.”

And you tilt your head as he reaches down to kiss you. With your eyes both closed, the world around you spins. Just you and him. In each other’s arms. His lips are soft against yours.

And a voice unfamiliar to both of you echoes in the air.

“I hope you can live a life without regrets.”

Sunghoon’s eyes open groggily, pain shooting through his spine almost immediately. All he sees are sterile hospital walls and Jay and Sunoo’s concerned faces.

They hover over the foot of his bed, their faces a mix of worry and irritation.

He blinks, scanning the room. Wires. A blood pressure cuff. An IV drip. Another bed. Then your eyes flutter open too.

“You know, with how the divorce is going, we thought you two crashed into each other on purpose,” Sunoo chirps, unempathetic to the dazed state of his friends. Jay smacks him on the shoulder.

“You’re lucky I managed to get you both a private room,” Jay mutters. “The nurses kept whispering about you two in the ICU.”

Sunghoon turns his head slowly, wincing. You’re awake now, alert, your expression matching his. His chest tightens. And almost in a panicked daze, his head snaps back to his friends.

“Sunghee and Sungjae–” he strains out, pain shooting through his lungs. “Where are they?”

Jay furrows his brows.

“They weren’t in the car with [Y/N], if that’s what you’re worried about,” he starts. “They’re looking for a vending machine with Heeseung and Jungwon-”

You both let out a shaky breath. For a second, relief replaces pain. Your eyes meet his for just a second before the door bursts open.

“Mom! Dad!” Sunghee's voice cries out. She’s running towards you two now, but Heeseung stops them.

“Whoa there, princess. They’re fragile.”

Her eyes are red, as if she had just finished crying. Sungjae's behind Heeseung, tugging at his jacket, worry etched across his little face.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” Sunghee blurts in your direction. Sunghoon has to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh. “They don’t have it on camera, but they said your car hit Daddy’s!”

He feels something warm bloom in his chest. It’s been a while since Sunghee sounded so protective of him.

You shake your head frantically. “No, darling. My brakes stopped working! I could never hurt your dad. He and I love each other very much-”

You stop yourself, but it's too late—cheeks already warming at the shifting gazes of the four grown men in the room. Jungwon fakes a cough.

“Love? As in, present tense?” he teases.

Sunghoon has the biggest grin on his face, and Sunoo scoffs as his eyes pivot between the two of you.

“Did you both hit your head in the accident?”

Heeseung clears his throat. “So, why don’t we take the kiddos to dinner, hm? Looks like Mom and Dad have some catching up to do.”

Sungjae nods excitedly. “Please! They're so icky.”

The adults usher the kids out, and Jay gives one last wink to the two of you before the doors close. The room falls quiet except for the not-so-steady beeping of the monitors. Sunghoon is the first to speak.

“So... when do you want me to pick up the papers again?” 

You laugh softly. 

“Oh! I guess if you want to go through with it…”

“No!” Sunghoon shouts, eyes huge. 'He’s so cute when he doesn’t mean to be,' you think to yourself.

You tilt your head, smiling. “Then don’t even think about getting them.” 

Your bed is near enough for you to inch your hand towards his forearm. Your touch is featherlight against his skin. It takes all of his strength to intertwine your fingers with his.

“So what does this mean for us?” you say through bated breath. He ponders for a second.

“It means… maybe I can build you an art studio in our garage?” he says cautiously. “And maybe I quit my job? Become a figure skating coach? How does that sound?” 

You let out a stronger laugh this time, one that aches in your ribs but still feels good. And in this version of you, older and wiser. He still thinks you’re so beautiful.

“I don’t resent you,” he whispers. And your heart skips a beat, in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. You smile at him. And finally, you find the courage to say it in this life too.

“I love you.”

He brings your fingers to his lips and plants gentle kisses on your knuckles.

In every lifetime, Sunghoon knows. He could be standing on the Olympic stage, the roar of thousands echoing in his ears. He could have everything he ever thought he wanted. But none of it would matter. Not if you weren’t there.

“I love you too," he replies, quietly.

And in every lifetime, he will always find his way back to you. And he will choose you. Over and over again.

epilogue.

Sungjae is on the garage floor, legs crisscrossed as he watches something on his iPad. Sunghoon is installing shelves for your future artist corner while Sungjae's video is strangely on mute.

“What you watching, son?” he asks, trying to distract himself from the tight pull in his lower back.

Sungjae doesn’t look up. “Your skating videos.”

Sunghoon nearly drops the shelf on his eye. “W-what?”

Sungjae shrugs. 

“Looks interesting,” he mutters. “Wish I could fly like that.”

Sunghoon sets the shelf down carefully, then crosses the room to crouch beside Sungjaee. On the screen, a much younger version of himself soars across the ice. He remembers that routine. His first national win.

“Didn't think you'd be into it,” he ruffles his son’s hair.

Sungjae shrugs again, but pink tinges his cheeks.

“You never asked.”

The words hit him. He never really did. Not even with Sunghee.

“Do you want to try?” Sunghoon asks slowly. “Figure skating?”

Sungjae finally looks up, eyes wide. “Can I?”

Sunghoon feels tears well up in his eyes, and he coughs them away. What was up with him and crying these days?

“Of course, son,” he says, pulling him into a gentle side hug. “You'll be my first student.”

fin. 

after he says "i love you" y/n pov

[jaysbaefie]

nerd | pjs

synopsis: in which a girl pushes the schools nerd past his limits, resulting in her being bent over his desk with her hands behind her back and her butt gleaming red.

genre: highschool au

pairing: nerd!jay x bully afab!reader

warnings: where to begin… mean dom!jay, bratty!reader, sub!reader, egotistical!reader, dubcon(ish), teasing, name calling, reader punches jay, tormenting, spanking, oral (m and f rec.), choking, gagging, slapping, orgasm denial, forced submission, restraining, pussy spanking, fingering, usage of ‘sir’, titty sucking, rough p in v, hair pulling, marking, slapping, blackmail, threats…i think that’s it :D

wc: 12.1k

a/n: new big fic out. i can’t lie ive been procrastinating so hard but this is a small make up fic because i wont be very active for the next few weeks because of finals :( uni is kicking ass rn so hopefully this will keep yall satisfied for the next few weeks! thank you for over 350 followers that’s so insane. i am also looking for an editor/proof reader for fics because i hate to proof read. if ur interested pm me! anyways, enjoy <333

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

you walk down the semi-busy hallway, clutching your books to your chest in a tight and unforgiving grip. your day had already started off rough, with your little brother slamming his fist into your cereal causing the milk to splatter all over you.

you had to remember that he was 5 years old and your brother in order to not lose your shit on him. simply brushing off the incident and changing into your spare old school shirt which fit you a little to tight.

"fucking math class is going to be the death of me," you mutter to yourself with a scowl as you take a right and walk past the seemingly never ending line of lockers.

stomping through the door you're met with several familiar faces, one particular face causing an almost evil grin to take over your face.

jay park.

the school's biggest nerd, but your favourite play thing.

oh how fun it is to bother him and get him all flustered and shy, and suddenly your mood has shifted. "at least i have some entertainment," you think to yourself as you makes your way towards the boy.

passing by him you make sure that he sees you, his expression dropping as you watch his adam's apple bob.

cute.

you brush up against his arm as you walk by, deciding to sit right behind him. you lean back, placing your books onto the table with a soft thud.

"uhm, hi?" the girl who you hadn't noticed sat beside you uttered. you mentally roll your eyes before giving her the fakest smile you could muster up.

"hi, uh.." you take a second to look the girl up and down, trying to figure out her name. your eyes eventually land on a worksheet of hers which laid on the desk, "vicky..?" you question with a squint of your eyes as you attempt to read the name that was messily printed on her paper.

she nods before smiling brightly, bringing her hand up to shake yours, only for her to be turned down.

"not interested," you quip your eyes squinting as your fake smile extends, "so, stay in your lane vicky."

yes, that was a bit harsh. but you had a reputation to live up to and you weren't going to let this irrelevant girl be comfortable with you.

the girl lets out a small gasp, her mouth falling agape unattractively before letting out a small 'hmph', turning her head away. it almost insulted you that vicky thought that you'd even consider being friends with her.

"dramatic bitch," you mutter, rolling your eyes as you rest your cheek on the palm of your hand.

you pull out your phone, noticing that you had a few minutes before class started. a small smirk graces your face, you had time for some fun.

you peer up from your phone, staring down the back of jays head. his hair was dark and neatly brushed back, all you wanted to do was run your hands through it to ruin it as he scrambled to fix it.

slowly lifting your leg you rest it on the back of his chair, making sure to give the chair a little push to make your presence known as if jay wasn't already hyper aware of you.

jay feels pressure on the back of his chair, letting out a small sigh before pushing up his falling glasses with his index finger—taking a deep breath through his nose as he tries to keep calm.

he already knew who it was and didn't bother looking up, continuing to scribble down on his work for another class.

your smirk stays intact, your foot tracing along the top of the cheap plastic chairs, knowing that jay could essentially feel your shoe on his back. you soon slip through the small gap in the seat, the tip of your sneakers gliding against his crisp white school shirt.

jay felt a shiver run through him, he held in his breath before shaking his head in annoyance—grumbling softly to himself.

he knew that you wouldn't stop until you got a good rise out of him, he was prepared for the worst.

"jongie," you whisper, leaning foreword against your forearms which were planted on the desk to keep you balanced and upright.

jay swallows harshly at his name coming out of your mouth in a low whisper, his hands clenching his pencil tightly as he continues to swiftly work through his sheets.

you knew that he was going to ignore you, which is why you decide to sit down again and lean back so your legs could reach further.

you kick the leg of his chair, which didn't end up moving much due to his weight holding the chair down firmly.

just before you could kick the back of the chair where his shirt was exposed, the teacher walks in. you pull your leg back under her desk and sit up straight, a low snicker being heard beside you. you turn your head swiftly, glaring down the girl that had tried to befriend you earlier.

"alright, class begins in," the teacher glances down at her watch before looking up again, "2 minutes, in that time please get out your work that should've been completed last night and have it on your desk ready to be handed in."

"crap," you murmur under your breath, realizing that you had only completed half of the homework last night before you decided to let sleep take over you. gnawing on your bottom lip you turn to your seat mate who was equally as flustered as you, you roll your eyes knowing that she too hadn't finished. useless.

you had only one option, slowly you reached your hand out to tap jays shoulder to ask for his homework. your chair screeching in the process but you paid no mind to that, however, the teacher did.

just as jay turned around to look back at you, he was stopped by the teacher.

"__, what are you doing? now is not the time to socialize, sit back down," she scolds, catching the attention of many other students who were now looking at right at you.

you flushed slightly at the sudden attention, remaining cool and intact on the outside but booking with rage on the inside. you clench your skirt in your fist as you retract your hand and sit back down.

how dare she talk to me like that.

if someone else had talked to you like that you would've put them in their place, but you knew better than to talk back to your teacher.

before you could cuss the teacher out mentally your gaze shifts towards jay who looked at you with pure amusement.

a small smile had crawled onto his face, his dimples making an appearance as he jaw line flexed, he was laughing at you.

you felt your blood boil as you watched him bite at his lip to stop himself from laughing. your eye twitched as you held in the urge to stomp your foot into his back. your pulled out of your thoughts when you see the teacher beginning to make her rounds to collect the homework.

"ah shit, my assignment," you say to yourself as you pull out your half-finished work.

you place the piece of paper onto your desk, glaring holes into the back of jays head as you wait for the teacher to reach you.

just watch what happens to you after class, nerd.

your hands gripped at your worksheet, almost ripping it in the process as you think of all the ways you'd make jay regret laughing at you.

the professor was right in front of you, standing at jays desk, "good job, jay. wouldn't expect any less from my star student," she praises softly before grabbing his work and the sheet from the student who sat next to him.

a disappointed look takes over her face when she walks over to your desk, wiping the previous happy smile off of her wrinkled face.

does she want to fuck him or something?

"incomplete."

"sorry ms-" you started but were soon cut off by the disappointed teacher, "i don't want to hear it __, detention."

you let out a small groan before leaning back in your desk, watching the teacher wear the same expression towards vicky before giving her the same fate as yours.

you continue to watch the teacher walk along the rows, anger bubbling in you.

with a sigh you snap your eyes back to the front, letting out a small gasp when you lock eyes with a pair of deep brown ones.

jay.

he looks at you with an almost smug expression, only fuelling your anger further. first, your little brother ruining your shirt, then jay laughing at you and now he had the the audacity to look smug about it? fuck no.

'your dead,' you mouth at him.

his eyes widen before he's turning around, leaving you fuming in anger as you begin to come up with ways to get back at him.

'oh god, save me,' jay thinks to himself, looking up as if god himself was staring down at him. if god was, he would be giving jay a look of pity.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

class had ended a few minutes ago and you were now making your way to your second class, english.

just as the bell had rung jay had made a run for it, he knew that he was in trouble and he was afraid for what was going to bite him in the ass.

you sat in your next class, plotting of ways you could get back at the boy. you smirk when images of jay looking up at you with apologetic eyes pop up in your head—punishing him will be fun.

if only you knew that you wouldn't be the one who would be doing the punishing.

you knew that jay was in your class and you knew that he was going to come in later than he usually would—even if it effected his perfect attendance record.

he was going to try and avoid you, try to run away from you—but you won't let that happen.

you mentally 'tsk' in your head, 'jay you can't escape me,' you think to yourself as you patiently wait for the boy to walk into class.

meanwhile, jay pants aggressively—trying to calm down his breathing from all the running he did. he had ran down the stairs and taken the long way to his next class, which he shared with you, trying to avoid running into you in the hallways.

he knew that you wouldn't bother him much in class, however, if you caught him the hallways who knew what you'd do to him.

he doesn't know what you're scheming but he wasn't excited. this was the first time that he had ignored you, typically he would just give you the work that you asked for—but this time he had chosen death. not only did jay not give you answers, he laughed at you.

this was the first time that he had gotten you angry, and he knew that you would take your anger solely out on him. he had seen you angry before, but never because of him.

he had seen you take out your anger on the people who caused the negative emotion, and it was brutal. to think that a girl your size was able to shit kick someone was scary and he hoped that he'd never be in the receiving end of that.

making his way into class he wipes the thin layer of sweat that had made its way into his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to slow down his breathing.

setting his backpack down onto the floor, he sits down and begins to unpack.

he could feel you burn holes into the back of his head, shivering slightly at the thought of turning around only to be met with your fist in his face and a black eye.

the teacher soon walks in causing jay to let out a small breath of relief, he knew that you wouldn't hurt him if the teacher was around.

'you're only safe for the next hour and a half, after that you're done for jay,' the poor boy thinks to himself nervously—sweating bullets.

"important announcement before we begin, starting tomorrow a new teacher will be coming in to teach for the next few weeks as you will be beginning your health unit. this unit will be a review about female and male anatomy and so forth, i beg of you all to be mature about this and not give the new teacher a hard time. please be on your best behaviour tomorrow", the teacher says quickly, the students not being able to understand half of what the she had yapped away.

you paid little to no attention to what the teacher was blabbering about, instead you glared down the boy who was sitting on the other side of the class. he held his book up close to his face, as if he was attempting to shield himself away from your scorching eyes.

snickering, you clenches your fists, a small smirk on your face as you lean foreword against the desk.

you can run, but you can't hide.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

"ow! ah! ouch!" the boy groans out, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

luckily, his arms had covered his face enough so he wouldn't break his jaw or mark up his pretty skin.

jay held in the urge to scream out in anger when he feels your foot on his back, pushing him down when he manages to get into a plank position in an attempt to get up.

the heel of your polished black shoes pushes into his crisp white shirt, leaving a smudge of dirt against the material.

you look down at the boy, feeling a sense of dominance seeing him at his lowest while you had all the control—just how you liked it.

were you a sadist? maybe.

"oh no! jay! i didn't see where i was going. silly me!" you coo innocently, a sly and evil tone present in her tone.

"didn't know i was so clumsy," you add on with a small snicker, your shoes still planted on his back.

jay grits his teeth, he knew that this was coming, but he didn't know that the humiliation would sting this bad.

he bit at his lip when he felt your whole foot slam him down onto the ground, as if he was a mere bug that you were trying to squash and kill.

"__, let me move," he grits out, harshly swallowing his embarrassment when he sees a few students walk by him.

the passers gave jay looks of sympathy, they all knew what it was like to get bullied by you, but they couldn't do much to help out—they didn't want to face your wrath any further.

if they intervened to help him out, they would become the next targets for your punching bags.

"hmm..how about, no," you snap back, there was no way you were going to let jay go after he had disrespected you. you didn't know where his sudden bravery had come from, but you were determined to shove it back where it had risen out from.

it was petty of you to do really, the poor boy hadn't even done anything besides laugh at you. however, you didn't take things like this lightly—and jay knew that.

he remembers how in junior year a girl had flaunted her grades in front of you when you told her what you had gotten on your science exam. the next day, her locker was stuffed with the frogs they had dissected in the class previously. to this day you passed her dirty looks in the hallway.

to simply put it, you held grudges—like really held grudges.

jay knew that if he didn't do something now, you would keep your foot pressed against his back the entire day while he laid on the dirty hallway floors for everyone to watch. he had to gather his courage before his thoughts would become reality.

pulling himself up he gets into a semi plank position, using all his strength to push up and off of the ground making you gasp in surprise.

standing tall his large figure intimidates your smaller one, the height difference making jay seem like the bully and you, the poor innocent victim.

stepping back slightly, you clenches your fists by your side, watching jay dust off his clothes.

"y-you-" you shrieked,  pointing an accusatory finger at the boy. "argh," you stomp down with frustration before scowling.

jay takes a moment unintentionally to look over your smaller frame, your dark messy hair to your neat and polished shoes that were on his back a few moments ago.

he would've thought you were cute if it wasn't for your nasty attitude. who was he kidding, you were pretty, but your actions made him forget from time to time.

balling up your small fists you do something that he would have least expected at that moment.

jay lets out a grunt when he feels your fist jam into the side of his face, falling right back where he had gotten up from originally.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

the day was filled with torture. jay, to say the least, looked rough.

he was tripped, punched,  shoved, and then he was smacked—but that was only the tip of the iceberg.

jay looked as if he was run over by a bus, his hair was messy and his usually crisp and neat attire and look was gone. the side of his face was bruised slightly, yellow and red marks splotched by his temple where you had landed your blow.

he was pretty sure that his glasses were broken, to afraid that if he took them off to inspect that they'd actually fall apart.

you had done it, you had made him miserable.

he ran out of class right when he was dismissed, not being able to take another beating—he just wanted to go home.

the bell rang and jay made a run for it, grabbing his books and heading out of the school doors and onto his bike—immediately cycling away.

he knew that this wasn't over just yet, he knew that there was much more in store for him—you weren't going to stop that easily.

if you had managed to make him so miserable in a span of a few hour, he only dreaded what you could do in an entire day.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

"hey! jongie! where you running off to? thought you were a good kid? we can't have you missing class, now can we?" you chirped with a plastic grin on your face, voice high pitched and squeaky.

jay had walked into school with his head held high up, he had science first block and he dreaded going in. he knew that you would make the 80 minute block last an eternity.

instead of walking in 10 minutes early like he usually would, he decides that he was going to walk in right when the bell rings. if you happened to be in class before the teacher arrived, a lot could happen in the short span of 10 minutes.

he didn't want to run into you in the hallways either, he knew you could have his way with him in the less crowded areas that lack teacher supervision. jay looked down at his watch, biting at his lip anxiously when he realizes that he still had a few minutes before class started.

he begins to walk to the boys washroom, thinking that he could hide out in the stalls to pass the time. unfortunately, he wasn't luck enough to make it there without being spotted.

you had found him, he gulped, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

" jongie," you start with a coo, your voice sickly sweet, "are you avoiding me?" you finish off with a fake pout.

you stood in front of him, not much distance between the two of you and he could smell your lavender and honey-scented perfume.

he lets out a shaky breath when you take another step forward, your chests brushing against one another's.

you reach your hand out to grab at jays black school tie, fiddling with it between your fingers, slowly looking up to see that the boy was already looking down at you.

your eyes widened for a second when you realized how handsome he was, his features sharp and clean which were ruined slightly due to the bruise by his temple.

the one you caused.

you could feel your face flush before your forcing thoughts about finding jay attractive out of your mind.

jay held in his breath when you took another step closer, your chests now touching. he was sure that you could feel his heart beat wildly against his chest.

you internally smirk, biting your bottom lip as you give him a cheeky grin, "jongie, it's not nice to ignore people you know," you drawl out, your eyelashes fluttering as you draw small patterns on his chest with your perfectly manicured fingernails.

jay knew exactly what you was doing, you were seducing him. he wasn't sure what your game plan was, but he was starting to feel hot.

the boy stutters out your name, his eyes widening when he feels you drag your fingers down his chest, nearing dangerously towards his crotch when you make it past his black belt.

"w-what are you d-," he tries again but his words didn't seem to leave his mouth. your fingertips lightly traced his bulge, he could feel himself getting aroused—his breathing getting heavier and quicker.

he wasn't going to let you play around with him so easily, jay knew that you were only doing this to get back at him.

swallowing harshly he reached down to clasp his hand firmly around your wrist, yanking your hand away from him roughly.

he pushes you away, hearing you gasp in shock, "__, stop," he states firmly, his eyes shut as he mentally prepares himself for another blow to the face.

you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, no man had ever turned you down—the guys at school falling at her feet left and right.

clenching your teeth you pushed at his chest, forcing a smirk onto your pink stained lips—faking confidence as you tried to push past the rejection.

"you didn't actually think that I would be interested in you, did you jongie?" you fibbed, hoping and praying that jay hadn't picked up on the waver in your voice.

"i would never be interested in someone like you," you spit before turning around to walk away, having the last word.

you walk away with your head held up high, confidently strutting down the hallway before you disappear from jays vision.

you feel your cheeks heat up from rejection, feeling strangely hurt deep down that jay had stopped her advances. you mentally scolded yourself for letting something like this effect you so deeply, it's just jay.

with a scowl etched on your face you flip your hair over your shoulder, fists clenched as you make your way to the next class.

jay stood in the hallway, his mind still processing what had just happened. he didn't know if you were coming on to him or if you were messing with him, regardless, his pants felt tighter.

shaking his head he let out a deep sigh, "it's just a way to get back at you jay, don't fall for it," he says to himself.

he looks down to see an indent in his pants, mentally scolding himself for popping one for a girl who makes his school life hell.

"just get to class," he murmurs out loud, slowly making his way to science—the same class he shared with you.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

science class was an absolute disaster, the substitute was on the verge of crying. jay gave the woman a look of pity, watching her struggle to quiet down the classroom.

paper planes filled the classroom sky, students throwing scrunched up worksheets at one another, big groups of people talking loudly amongst one another.

a mess, to say the least.

a few minutes later the class settles down, the threat of giving everyone a zero caught the classes attention.

the substitute sat at her chair, a look of bewilderment on her face as she smoothens out her clothing and hair.

"good morning class, you may refer to me as mrs.jung and i will be your health teacher. i will be in the classroom for the next few weeks so, please, treat me well," she almost begs at the end, planting a small smile on her face.

she looked to be in her late 30s or early 40s, her black hair up in a sleek bun while she wore a blue denim dress that reached just below her knees.

"today we are going to be learning about the female reproductive system."

the class goes by like a blur, half of the students not paying attention to the substitute as she taught.

jay takes down basic notes, his thick black locks running into his eyes making him run his hands through his hair to slick his hair back.

suddenly, he feels something hit the back of his head. he looks down to see a pink eraser on the floor, already knowing the culprit without having to turn around to look.

picking up the object with a sigh, he places it on his desk—shaking his head in disbelief before he resumes his note taking.

it was quiet for a moment before your voice pulls him out of his trance, his ears turning a bright shade of red at your words.

"jays probably never made a girl cum before, never been able to find the clit," you snicker to your seat mate who looks around hesitantly when she realizes how loud you were.

you on the other hand gave no fucks about the volume of your voice, your laughter getting louder and louder every second.

you were so fucked.

the boy swallowed harshly, his hands gripping his pencil tightly—afraid that it would snap if he didn't ease his grip.

students near by heard the exchange, silent laughter being heard from around the room as they stared at jay. jay could feel his body flush, his cheeks hot as he purses his lips—staring down at his notes. he refused to look up, feeling embarrassed.

you watched jay closely, you could tell that he was uncomfortable but you felt no remorse for the boy—so you continued.

"he'd probably finish in seconds," you taunted, this time catching the teacher's attention.

"__, would you like to repeat that?"

you immediately sit up in your chair, clearing your throat before planting a small fake smile on your face, "no miss."

ms.jung gave her a knowing look, "thought so, now, please keep your comments to yourself."

you flush with embarrassment but the feeling soon fades, biting at your lip to hold in your laughter when you hear other students poke fun at jay.

you could hear whispers about the boy, some making fun of him while others expressed their sympathy for him.

you couldn't help but feel slightly guilty, you peek over to look at jay. you could see his fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white while his veins in his hands and forearms popped out. his thick muscles peeking from under his shirt as he flexed his arms tensely—your mouth watered at the sight.

jay then suddenly turns his head around, his dark hooded eyes looking into your. feeling flustered you try to avoid eye contact but were unable to, a small gasp emitting from your throat when jay gives you a bone-rattling glare.

you fist your skirt, heart beating quick when jay mouths, 'stay after class,' his lips curling into a smirk before he's turning away—tuning out everyone who was looking at him.

you look at him in shock, his sudden shift in attitude catching you off guard.

what the fuck just happened?

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

the bell rang and students trickled their way out of the classroom, leaving you, jay, and mrs.jung behind.

"jay, dear. are you planning on staying after class?" mrs. jung asks as she shuffles around the classroom, noticing that neither jay or you had packed your things.

jay forces a sweet smile, trying not to explode as he nods briskly, "ah yes, i have a few things to take care of."

she nods in response, "alright then, i trust that you'll be responsible. i'll give you the keys so when you're done, just lock the door," she says with a smile, before making her way out of the door—handing jay the keys.

she stops midway when she spots you still sitting at one of the desks, "and you, __? are you planning on staying as well?"

before you could open your mouth to answer, jay cuts you off, "yes, mrs.jung. __ here, needed help with some work so i decided to go aheadand tutor her. is that okay? it won't take us to long," he persuades, his grin cheeky as he tries to downplay his real motives.

mrs.jung felt as if she could trust the boy, so she nods.

"alright, just take care, okay? oh also once you've finished, close the blinds," she instructs, and with that, she waves goodbye to the both of you— walking out and shutting the door behind her.

you hold your breath, the sound of your shallow breathing sounding far to loud in the quiet classroom.

you and jay were sitting only a few feet apart, yet he made no attempt to move. the silence was beginning to get to you, rolling your eyes before you decide to break it.

"so nerd, why'd you ask me to stay?" you sneer out, placing your feet up on the table before faux inspecting your nails, you tried not to show it— but your 'tough' persona was crumbling by the second.

jays eye twitched at the name, "i'm sure you know exactly why, __," he seethes back, his head still looking at the front. the way he said your name made you shiver in delight, the hairs on the back of your neck standing as you felt yourself flush.

jay smirks when he notices you shiver from the corner of his eye, he knew that he had some sort of effect on you.

the way your name came out of his mouth sounded smooth and silky, the feeling making you jittery and restless.

you decide to act clueless, "no, actually. I don't."

jay could laugh, huffing before his chair is being pulled out and he's slowly making his way towards you—like a snake slithering to strangle its prey.

when he reaches you, you remove your feet from the desk, looking up at him curiously.

jays gaze made you feel small, looking away from him when you couldn't handle the intensity of his stare.

"it's not nice to comment on other people's sex lives,__. but I'm sure your bratty virgin self doesn't know better," he taunts, his thick arms coming to rest on either side of your chair so you were trapped in between them.

you gape at the name, "bratty?" you spit out, offended. "i'm not bratty, and i'm sure as hell not a virgin."

you swallow harshly when you turn your head to the side, your eyes almost bulging out of their sockets when you see his arms flex to show off his taunt muscles.

"oh really?" he fakes a gasp, lifting one of his eyebrows mockingly before grinning, "prove it."

your eyebrows shoot up in shock, uncomfortable with the switch in dynamics. not used to the confident and bold jay that was in front of her.

"w-what? how," you ask stupidly, unaware of what dirty thoughts had began to cloud jays mind.

he'd show you, he'll prove you wrong.

"get on your knees."

you stare up at him dumbly, failing to process his words. jay begins to lose his patience, threading his fingers into your hair before yanking your head back.

a small moan breaks out of your mouth, face flushing when you realize what you had just done. jays expression turning grim, "i'm not repeating myself brat. either you do it, or i make you do it."

your eyes widen at his words, a strange feeling of fear and excitements rush through you making you clench your thighs in anticipation.

slowly dropping down from your chair, sinking to your knees in front of the boy.

jay smirks, he had you right where he wanted you.

"what are you waiting for? unbuckle my pants and take my cock out, slut," he seethes, his eyes hooded as he stares down at you with pure lust.

you shiver at the degrading name, rubbing your thighs together as you shuffle closer so you could reach out to start taking off his pants.

your hands clumsily unbuckle his belt, letting the leather material hit the floor with a clack—flinching at the sound. you focus on the buttons of his slacks, hands shaking as you struggle to pop them open.

jay 'tsks' as he looks down at you with a faux frown, "useless brat, can't even unbutton my pants properly." with that he's popping open his own buttons and letting his pants fall.

his dark grey boxers came into view quickly before they disappear just as quick. jays hand yanks at your hair, pushing your head so your face was smushed against his hard cock. you gape at him, feeling his thick length grind against your cheek before you begin to struggle in his hold.

you try to show your protest but your words come out muffled, attempting to push yourself away with your thighs on his thighs—but your attempts went futile.

"what are you doing?" you try to squeak out only for it to come out as incoherent, making jay laugh mockingly.

"fuck are you waiting for whore?" he sneers his mood shifting instantly, his grip in your locks tightening making you hiss out— complying with his orders regardless.

he allows you to move your head back, your fingertips slipping past the band of his boxers—pulling them down all the way.

a small gasp left your mouth when his cock hit your cheek, his precum smearing against your skin.

he chuckled, watching you closely as you brings your shaky hand to grip at his girth—making him hiss.

your mouth salivates as you takes a few seconds to admire him. his tip dusted with a dusky rose colour and veins surrounding his thick and long length like a rose vine.

"go on then, take me into your mouth. prove me wrong brat."

that's all you needed before you engulfed his tip into your mouth before jay slams it in fully. you choke on it causing him to let out a deep and guttural groan.

the sound had you trembling, pulling him out of your mouth before slowly taking him in again inch by inch—trying hard not to gag.

he looked down, watching you bob your head back and forth, tilting his head back to let out small moans when he feels you swallow around him.

his grip on your hair tightened, thrusting his hips forward causing his tip to hit the back of your throat repeatedly—using you as a cock sleeve.

as embarrassing as it was, you were enjoying it far more than jay was. your thighs clenched together tightly as you attempt to relieve the pressure between your legs by pushing your gushing cunt against the floor.

"fuck, __! didn't take you for such a cockslut. thought you were more a receiver with your bratty attitude," he remarks, a choked groan echoing through the classroom when he feels you swallow around his cock again.

you look up at the boy, peering through your thick lashes as you hollow out your cheeks, your tongue running up his length.

your hand comes to wrap around the part that you weren't able to fit in your mouth, feeling his cock inch down your throat.

he felt your warm mouth surround him, the feeling smooth and velvety as he pushed his hips towards you causing you to gag.

you reminded yourself to breathe through your nose, your tongue lapping around his length as you pumps the remaining bit with your hand.

"oh-shit, keep going. just like that," he groans, bucking his hips as he desperately chases his high.

your eyes narrow, one thing was certain—jay wasn't going to cum. suddenly, you withdraw your effort and slow down your speed just when he was reaching his high.

jay stares down at you, frustration present on his face.

"did i tell you that you could slow down whore?" he sneered, his chest heaving and his face glistening with a sheen of sweat.

innocently, you peer up at him before going back to the pace you were at before, his eyes rolling back in pleasure instantly as he relished in the feeling of your warm mouth.

he was close, and you could tell.

your hand reaches up to cup his balls in your hand, slowly massaging as you try to get him closer and closer to his climax.

you held in your breath when his tip hits the back of your throat with each thrust, letting him use you like a rag doll.

the sound of jays moans and the wet sounds of his cock fucking your mouth echoed through the empty classroom—bouncing off of the walls.

"m'gonna cum," he grunts, a thin bead of sweat running down his face and then his neck, soon disappearing under his school shirt.

not on my watch.

you smirk to yourself , right when jay was about to bust you pull your mouth away completely—leaving him hanging and desperate for a release.

jays eyes snap open, "what the fuck!" he exclaims, his fists clenching and his face red in anger.

"you didn't actually think that i'd let you cum after the way you talked to me, did you jongie?" you tease, biting at your bottom lip to hold in your laughter as you start to get up from the floor—using the back of your hand to wipe away the spit and cum on your lips.

jay feels himself slowly lose his cool, he was being gentle with you even if you didn't deserve it.

"that's fucking it, __," he starts, his tone shocking you, never hearing him sound so angry. the once calm and collected boy was gone, his patience running thin.

"you've pushed me past my limits now."

he takes a second to look down you, you were now standing up with your face only a few inches away from his own.

"you're going to bend over the desk-" he grabs a hold of you, grabbing a fistful of your hair before pushing your body onto a desk so you laid on your stomach with your lower body handing uber the edge—your feet barely touching the ground.

a shriek leaves your mouth at the sudden change in position, trying to get your feet to touch the floor but fails when jay comes to stand to the side of you, "-and fucking count."

he flips your short school skirt up, which jay thought was pointless for you to wear. you hiked up the material to your upper thigh, leaving little to the imagination to whoever was behind you.

jay was guilty, he had peered up your skirt several times—his hands itching to grab at your soft flesh.

your behind was now exposed to him with your thin lace black thong being the only thing that covered you. it didn't cover much, actually, it didn't cover anything. he could see your cunt poke through the thin fabric, his mouth salivating as he watches you squirm in his hold.

"what the-" you start but are cut off by jay toying with your underwear, pulling it upward before letting it go so it would slap your skin.

you hiss at the feeling, trying to reach your arms behind you to push him away, only for him to grab ahold of both your arms and pin them firmly to your back.

"you've done this to yourself, __. if only you had behaved," he sneers, softly patting your underwear-clad core making you jolt up in surprise.

jay chuckles at the reaction, "sensitive, are we?"

"oh shut up you ne-"

smack!

you gasp, turning your head around to glare at him accusingly, "d-did you ju-" you get cut off again by another sting to your behind, your back arches as you unconsciously jut your behind out more.

jay smirks, watching your body squirm on the desk, his hand coming to softly massage your behind before he lands another smack down.

"i did, and you better get counting brat. you're far from getting out of this position."

"like hell i wi-" you try to protest only for him to lay another smack down, your body lurching forward with each hit. you suppress a moan when you feel jays hand roughly massage the cheek that he had hit, the feeling soothing but made your core ache.

"you want to try again? the more you act out the more hits i'll add on," he threatens lowly, his middle finger tracing down your covered slit.

you whine, feeling absolutely humiliated.

smack!

"i recommend that you start counting, brat," jay seethes lowly before he's landing another smack down.

"o-one."

smack!

"two," you mewl, eyes watering as you feel another smack lay down on you.

smack!

"three."

smack!

"four!" you shriek, that particular smack landing harder than the rest.

jay was taking out all of his frustration on you, his hand stinging at the intensity of the smack he laid down. it was as if he was getting his revenge for the torture he endured from her. he watched your ass bounce, landing smack after smack not letting you catch your breath in the slightest.

"ah, jay! s-stop," you cry out, your hands gripping the table tightly—knuckles turning white.

his hand grabs ahold of the back of your neck, pulling you up slightly as he bends down to catch your gaze. "do you really want me to stop, __?" he asks knowingly, a look of faux sympathy in his face.

"because-" he begins, his other hand snaking itself to your covered cunt—pressing against you. you were drenched, the fabric sticking to your folds as if they were a second skin. "-this tells me otherwise."

you hold in a whine, to ashamed to deny. jay had gotten his answer, letting go of his hold on your neck before he's going back to his original spot.

you look back at him, your eyes red and teary as you muffled a cry. jay holds in a groan when he sees your teary face, feeling his cock get harder—if that was possible.

"jay i-" you start but cut yourself off with a grunt when he lands his hand down on your behind once more.

"beg bitch," he sneers. this was the moment that all shame and self respect was let go.

"please jongie. i beg you," you cry out, jolting up when you feel his fingers circle your clothed entrance.

jay smirks, he had you wrapped around his fingers in minutes—literally.

"what are you begging for, hm?"

when he receives no answer he lands another smack down on to your behind making you whimper.

jay almost lets out a moan when he sees how red and bruised your behind was, splotches off blue and yellow complimenting your skin colour.

you look back at him, your face red and teary as you silently beg him to do something.

jay shakes his head at you, "you aren't getting anything from me till you ask me, nicely."

you whine, "jay, please."

"please jay what?" he mocks, his hand grabbing at your behind roughly—squeezing it making you let out breathless moans.

"please, fuck me," you wince, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him with big eyes.

jay feels his breath hitch at the look on your face, the faux expression of innocence you held making his actions stutter.

you were so full of shit and jay knew that.

he chuckles, "fuck you? so quickly? i don't think so slut," he says before he's flipping you over on the desk so your back was against the wood.

you gasp at the sudden switch of positions, holding yourself up by your elbows. you see jay in between your legs as you look up at him, his figure towering over yours.

you let out a pained whimper when your butt touches the desk, your behind stinging and sore after the amount of hefty smacks that he laid down on you.

"so wet.." he murmurs, running his pointer finger down your clothed folds, a shiver racking down your  spine at the sensation.

he lets out a soft hiss when he notices how sensitive you were, "jay, please."

"i've been through this before darling, please what? what do you want me to do, be verbal," he commands, rubbing small circles against your clit.

"fingers, in me please," you stammered, clawing at the desk as you spread your legs wider—no shame.

"good girl," he praises lightly before he's pushing your underwear to the side to expose your sopping wet cunt. the sudden exposure of the cool air making you shudder, shutting your legs on instinct. jay scowls, slapping at your thigh before forcing your legs wide open.

you let out a small moan at the feeling of his fingers touching around you, his hands sliding to the apex of your inner thighs.

he takes his time, making sure to have you crying by the end of it.

"jay, please don't tease," you whine, trying to buck your hips against his hand to try and get him to touch you where you needed him the most.

he hums in response, his thumb coming to touch your bare clit softly, slowly rubbing against it making you arch your back against the desk at the sensation.

jays smirk stays intact on his face, making eye contact with you all while rubbing you slowly—teasing her.

you shy away from his eyes, looking anywhere but at him causing jay to stop his actions. his free hand comes up to your face, squeezing your cheeks so your lips jut out in a pucker.

"keep your eyes on me, brat. as soon as you look away, i stop. got it?" he threatens lowly. you nod in response, locking eyes with his deep browns ones.

he slowly pushes a finger into your aching core, feeling you clench around his digit as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. he feels your walls tighten around him, "so fucking needy," he spits out.

you bite at your lip to hold back any moans that threatened to escape you, your hips bucking as he fastens his pace.

"don't hold in your moans, let them out," he demands, curling his finger in you before a second finger is poking at your entrance—threatening to be pushed in.

"ah-shit," you groan out when he inserts the second finger in, the thickness of his digit stretching you out. your eyes water at the pleasure, your eyes threatening to close to relish in the feeling—but you don't dare.

he holds your panties to the side so he could see his fingers pushing in and out of you, your hips bucking as you try to get him to sink his fingers deeper into your cunt.

"so wet and needy," he croaks, his thumb adding into the mix as he continues his pace—his thumb rubbing small yet firm circles on your clit.

you shut your eyes for a moment only for them to snap right open when you feel jay land a slap on your throbbing pussy. you squeal at the pain, trying to move away from his grip, his hand coming down to slap at your clit again. "behave," he warns before he's resuming his previous position with two of his thick digits buried inside you.

you couldn't believe the position you were in. sprawled up on a desk with your hair dishevelled, your shirt wrinkled and your school skirt hiked up to your hips while the boy you use as a punching bag has his fingers buried into your aching cunt.

if someone had told you that this would be the position you'd end up in by the end of the day, you would've had them on the floor.

you could feel every stroke of his fingers inside you clearly, desperately chasing your high as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten deliciously.

jay curls his fingers in you in a 'come here' motion, feeling you clench around his digits as he fastens his pace—he knew you were close.

his thumb starts to rub faster circles on your throbbing and aching clit, not giving you a chance to breathe as he feels your body twitch at the close release.

"ah, shit! j-jay m'close," you mewl, your eyes rolling to the back of your head—eyes white. you feel him stroke past a certain bundle of nerves, your head tilting back in pleasure as he continue to stretch out your gummy walls.

just as you felt your high approach jays pulling his fingers out of you , leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. you cry out in frustration, attempting to kick your legs at jay only for him to catch and stop them with ease—tossing you a stern look.

you watch him pop his fingers into his mouth, his tongue coming out to circle his digits all while maintaining eye contact with you.

"for a dirty bitch, you sure do taste good," he praises, a sly grin in his face as he digs his fingers into the plush of you thighs—making you wince.

when he gets no response he chuckles, "what? didn't think that i'd let you cum so quickly, did you?" he asks, using the same phrasing as you earlier.

you whine, "please." your legs shook with impatience.

"i'm taking my time with you, __. i've been waiting to get my hands on you. do you know what i go through whenever you open your goddamn trap and spit out insults at me, hm? it takes everything in me to not bend you over the nearest desk and fuck the attitude out of you, but not anymore. i'm having you whatever way i want, and you'll let me, isn't that right?" he hisses into your ear, the feeling of his cool breath making you shiver.

you look at him with red cheeks, your mind whirling with ideas of him taking you on the desk, against the wall, in the school closets, in the staff room.

jay grins, "you'd like me fucking your pretty little cunt, hm? wanna feel my fat cock stretching your bratty pussy out, yes?" he purrs as he gets up from his position in between your legs, looming over your smaller body.

"mmm, y-yes," you reply, still dazed from your denied release as you stare up at him with big eyes.

jay lets out a small groan before he's wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling you up so you're off the desk and standing in front of him.

you grab onto his shirt, not trusting yourself to stand properly as your legs trembled.

you let out a small moan when the grip around your throat tightens. "what a desperate little whore you are, __. who would've thought that the school's bully begs for cock, begs for my cock," he jeers as he weaves his other hand into your hair—yanking on it.

you mewl at the sensation, letting him use you as he wished—complying with all his actions.

"are you going to behave for me, hm,__?" he coaxes before he presses a quick peck to your lips, trailing small kisses starting from your tear stained cheeks, to your jaw and soon down your neck.

"yes," you respond, your voice coming out breathy and your vision hazy—the sensation of his lips on your neck leaving you trembling with need.

jay nips at the sensitive skin on your neck, a moan slipping out of your mouth as he continues to bruise up your skin.

"yes, what?"

"yes, sir."

jay immediately pulls away from you, his eyes widening in shock as he stares at you in disbelief. you on the other hand hadn't even realized what name you addressed him by, the thought of his cock plaguing your mind.

he soon came to the conclusion that he didn't mind the name, his mouth pulling into a sneer as he fists your hair harshly before yanking it back—your head tilted so your marked up neck was on full display for his hungry eyes.

"good, now—strip."

you immediately comply with his order, your hands fumbling with the buttons of your shirt, struggling slightly as you lean against him for support.

jay watches you struggle, his eyes narrowing impatiently before he's taking matters into his own hands.

"such a helpless little slut, can't even unbutton her shirt without my help," he murmurs angrily before he's helping you unbutton your school shirt.

his fingers graze your supple skin as he makes his way down your shirt, helping you take the white material off.

once he gets to the last button he yanks the shirt off completely, throwing it onto the floor making you gasp.

without a second to waste, he reaches behind you to unclasp your pink bra, the lanky article of clothing falling off of you.

jay sucks in a breath when your pert nipples come into his view, his hands reaching out to mound against your chest.

"so pretty," he praises softly before he's kneading your breasts with both of his hands. your grip on his shirt tightening as he continues his assault before he's leaning down and taking one of your buds into his mouth.

the feeling of his mouth touching your skin made you moan out, jutting your chest out to savour more of the feeling.

"needy little thing aren't you, hm? tell me, __, do you want my mouth on you? want me to make you cum on my tongue? " he drawls as he twists your nipple with his finger making you whimper.

you nod enthusiastically, "yes, please sir," you beg, your hands coming up to wrap around his shoulder as if you were hugging him.

"begging so nicely for me," he praises before he's slowly sinking to his knees, his head coming to be level right with your covered cunt.

you trembled, jays hands on your waist before they drag up and down your thighs. he's reaching behind you to drag your skirt down so it pooled at your feet.

your thin underwear was soaked from your previously denied orgasm, his fingers coming to grab at the band of your panties to push them down so you were completely bare to his eyes.

jay sucked in a breath, his eyes glazing over you before he uses his thumbs to spread apart your lips.

your hands reach behind you to grab at the wooden desk to keep yourself from falling—spreading your legs slightly so jay could fit better in between them.

the boy smirked at your actions, moving closer so his breath fanned against your most intimate bits—making you shiver.

"why so tense,__?" he teases before his tongue flattens against the apex of her thigh making you squirm.

"j-jay, don't tease—please," you begged softly as you jut your hips so your cunt was closer to his face—desperate to get him to touch you where you desired the most.

jay smiles against her skin, "do you deserve my tongue, huh?" he blows softly on your clit making you whimper.

did you deserve it? no.

were you still going to say yes? yeah.

"yes, sir—please." you pant, your left hand leaving the desk as you could run your hand through his dark locks.

the boy lets out a small laugh, "you and i both know you don't deserve this, yet here we are," he says lowly, his eyes zeroing in on your cunt.

you scrunched your eyebrows, "wha—oh!" you shrieked. his tongue flattened on your most sensitive area, your head tilting back as your grip in his hair tightens.

jay holds in a moan, his tongue gliding through your soaked folds as he holds your thighs open to make sure you don't try to close them.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pant the boy's name, your body twitching with each touch as you force yourself to keep as quiet as possible.

his tongue did figure '8's on your clit, your arousal soaking his nose and chin. jay peers up from in between your legs, watching your face contort into one of pure bliss as you start to roll your hips against his tongue.

he tongue drops to your clenching hole, teasing the entrance while his nose nudges your clit repeatedly.

he had imagined this exact moment, as creepy as it sounded—he had fantasied about this moment.

have you choke on his girth as he fucked your bratty mouth as he pleased—using you like a doll before throwing you away. bending you over his knee, letting his palms smack against your round and soft bottom as you cried out for him—begging him to stop. letting his hands roam down your body as he marked you with small purple bites, letting everyone know that the school's tormentor had been fucked into her place.

he was ecstatic when you had stayed behind, following his order.

he knew he had you in his clutches the moment you were on your knees, knowing he had full control over your frail body—he was going to take full advantage of it.

years of torment had led them here, his tongue deep in you as you wailed out in pleasure—clutching on to whatever you could grab onto.

he inhaled deeply when your thighs started to close in on his face, his hands not being able to hold them open anymore as his tongue ran over your clit repeatedly.

you were trembling, your legs shaking violently as you screeched when his tongue brushes over a certain bundle of nerves.

"shit! jongie," you gape, your mouth in an 'o' shape as your eyes shut painfully tight.

"m'gonna cum," you wail out as you grasp at his hair tighter, his tongue working fast and firm circles around your clit—getting you closer and closer to your release.

after the way you treated him, you surely didn't deserve to cum. yet, here jay was—his tongue delving in and out of you as you beg to cum for him.

your stomach tightened almost painfully as you reached your climax, your body trembling as you cum with a loud moan—not being able to hold back your sounds anymore.

even after your high had passed, jay hadn't stopped. his tongue still rolling around your clit as he helps you ride out your high before finally pulling away making you let out a sigh of relief.

jay watches your red face, "filthy little girl, absolutely filthy," he tuts, his tongue swiping his lips to savour any remnants of you before he's standing tall—his hand reaching out to wrap around your throat once again.

you choke a whimper, your hands coming up to grab at his wrist when his grip tightens around your throat almost painfully. you struggle to breathe and although this should scare you, you felt yourself hush with excitement.

you twitch, "s-sir, in me. please," you whine out, begging to be filled to the brim with thick cock inside of you.

"you're still not satisfied?" he teases as he slowly strips himself of his briefs—letting them fall to the floor.

you shook your head, clenching around nothing as you watch the boy carefully.

"bend over then, let's see how good you take my cock."

and that's how you ended up pushed against the desk with your stomach pressed against the wooden surface and your hands pinned behind your back.

you could feel jays cool breath fan against your ear as his chest planted firmly against your back—disabling any movement from your behalf.

you could feel his length against you, his tip poking at your entrance as you whine in desperation.

"sir," you mewl softly, your head twisting slightly as you begin to wriggle in his grip.

jay chuckles lowly, his hand reaching out to firmly wrap itself around your throat to keep you from moving your head as well as serve as warning to stay still.

"so desperate for my cock," he keens, planting soft kisses on you exposed shoulder making you shiver.

"imagine what your little friends would think of if they were to find out that you were being fucked by me. fucked by the school's 'nerd.' what would they say, huh? their little friends getting put into her place by the boy she torments," he sneers as his grip on your neck tightens for a fraction making you gasp.

"you'd like that though, wouldn't you? being fucked into submission by me, letting your little friends watch?" he continues, his tone getting lower and lower.

"jay," you moan, he suddenly starts to push his tip into your entrance—your tight walls immediately fluttering around him.

jay shudders, your velvety walls comforting him as he slowly pushes in—inch by inch. he tried to move slowly so you wouldn't feel any pain or discomfort, but soon that idea was disposed of.

you didn't deserve to be treated with such care.

he slammed himself in without slowly coaxing you like he had originally planned, the sudden movement causing a scream to erupt from the back of your throat.

the stretch was painful yet so good. your walls fluttered ground him as he fucks into you, his balls slapping against your ass as the desk shook with each rough thrust.

jay groaned, your walls hugging him as he quickly uses his hand to cover your mouth— you were a moaning mess as he roughly thrusts into you.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you held onto the desk for support, mewls leaving your mouth every time he moved.

the stretch of his girth was painful yet pleasurable, the burning sensation only adding to the enjoyment.

"f-fuck, sir," you mewled, your voice coming out muffled due to jays hand covering your mouth.

he could feel beads of sweat roll down his chest and back as he picked up his pace, small groans occasionally leaving his mouth every time he felt your gummy walls clench around him.

you had your eyes shut as you took each thrust, your stomach coiling wildly as you clenched around his thick girth like a vice.

you could feel your stomach bulge with each movement, a high-pitched squeal leaving your mouth when jays hand comes down to land a sharp smack on your behind.

abandoning your mouth, his hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, holding them hard enough to leave bruises and marks.

"feel so good, __," he murmurs, his pace swiftly quickening as he watches your ass bounce against him with each stroke.

you trembled, your mind hazy as you searched through your brain to try and put some words together to respond—but nothing coming to mind.

"m'close," you finally says, your previous orgasm only adding to this one as you try to buck against him.

just as your lower stomach starts to tighten, a signal of her now close high—jay pulls out.

you gasp, your high dying down quickly as you turn your head around to look at the boy.

instead of explaining why he had pulled out so suddenly, he grabs your forearms. pulling you up so you were now standing—your legs shaking violently as you try to hold onto him for support.

he makes you face him, chests touching, before hooking his arms underneath your knees so you were no longer touching the ground—hiking you up onto the desk so he could stand in between your legs.

"it's sad how such a pretty thing has such a rotten inside," he uttered lowly, letting you wrap your legs around his waist.

in the moment you decided to not respond to him, letting his degrading words fly past as you whined—needy and desperate for a release.

his hand comes up to wrap squeeze in your cheeks, yanking your head close so your noses brushed against one another's.

he smirked when he felt you twitch in his grip, moving his face away slightly so he could sink two fingers into your mouth.

"suck," he demands, feeling your warm mouth engulf his digits—your tongue soft against his rough fingers.

he watches you carefully, his grip on her cheeks tightening ever so slightly making you whine as you struggle to take his digits in.

removing his grip from your face, he takes out his fingers before using that exact hand to land a semi-hard smack onto your cheek—your head flying to the side as you let out a cry of surprise and pain.

"a-ah," you cried, your teary eyes catching his own.

"pathetic," he stated, reclaiming his grip on your face to fish you in so his breath fanned against your face.

he could see it on your face, you enjoyed it.

jay laughs in disbelief, "fucking filthy bitch."

"is that why you hit others? you want to be treated the same way, hm?"

you moan at his words, clenching your thighs together before they're roughly spread wide again by jay—positioning himself at your entrance, slowly teasing you.

jay raises his eyebrows mockingly before pushing in, filling you to the brim once again as you struggles to take him fully.

"f-fuck..how are you still so tight," jay swears, shocked at why he struggled to push into your walls when he was fucking into you just a few minutes ago.

you hold yourself up by your elbows, letting him use you as he pleased—as long as you got off.

"you're fucking desperate, huh? needy bitch," he snaps with his top lip turned in a sneer.

you mewl when he snaps his hips a little too hard at one point, his grip on your hips bruising.

you tightened around him, clenching each time he moved making him hiss.

"stop clenching so hard slut," he hissed maliciously before reaching one hand over to tangle itself into your hair—yanking your head up so jay could press his lips against your own.

"t-to fast," you whimper in-between the kiss when the speed of his thrusts fasten, your body trembling and shaking as you hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself from collapsing.

"shut up, brat. you're going to take what i give you," his pace getting faster and his cock plunging even deeper.

he could tell you were close, the way your eyes shut and how your bottom lip wobbled—he knew.

he continued to bottom out, his high nearing as he lets out inaudible grunts. his stomach tightens with each thrust, the feeling of your tight velvety walls tightening around his girth making him go crazy.

"m'gonna cum...p-please can i cum?" you babble, unable to push out words.

"cum for me, brat. milk my cock, s-so good f'me."

he watches your head lull back, "i-i'm cumming..o-oh," you climax with a loud moan, your head tilted back with your eyes shut and your mouth in an 'o' shape.

"so good for me," jay mumbles roughly, his pace now punishing as he desperately chases his own high.

you begin to whine from overstimulation, clenching around his cock unintentionally.

he could feel his stomach swirl, you squeezing him tight only adding to his building pressure as he grips your hips in a punishing hold.

his eyes flutter before a loud groan pushes out of him, his orgasm strong as his pace slows down to slowly ride out his high.

you squeal when you feel him shoot his load into you, feeling his warm cum coat your walls.

you watch the boy with wide eyes, feeling him rub against your sensitive walls—watching how his eyes closed once he hit his climax.

you close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of being full. suddenly, you hear click. your eyes snap open, mouth falling agape when you realize that jay had taken a photo.

"w-wait."

you feel him pull out, suddenly feeling empty and hollow before your watching him pull on his clothes. you feel his cum dribble out of your worn out cunt, looking down to see it pooling out of you and onto the desk.

confused, you hop off of the desk.

big mistake, you immediately fall to the ground.

you whimper when you feel jays hand grip onto her bicep, pulling you up and letting you hold onto him as he continues to dress.

"d-did you just take a photo of me?" you ask desperately, your eyebrows furrowed and the pit in your stomach fills with dread.

"w-here are you going?" you squeak as you watch him button the last button on his previously wrinkle-free school shirt.

"home," he answers nonchalantly.

"b-but the photo?"

"and you should too, wouldn't want daddy dearest to file a missing person report," he teases, ignoring the questions regarding the photo he had taken.

you stare at him, "w-wait," you start only for jays glare to shut you up.

"shut up and clean yourself up, my cum is oozing down your leg you nasty bitch," he snaps before he's bending down to grab your clothes, handing them to you.

you hesitantly oblige, "w-what now?"

jay lets out a small sarcastic laugh, "what now?"

you nod, your body still shaking as you start to slide on your shirt—your bra long gone.

"now, you behave. you don't taunt, tease or bully, understand? or else-" he pulls out his phone, a picture of you fucked out with his dick still in you. your hair was messy and your lips swollen and read, marks scattered all of your upper body. "this gets sent around. got it?"

you nod slowly, swallowing harshly at his threat. your bottom lip wobbled as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes making jay coo. using two of his fingers to lift up your chin, he leans down to lick away the stray tears on your cheek, "don't cry sweetie, just don't be a bitch and you'll be fine."

he then grins, "i think i made you cum a few times, no?"

"h-huh?"

"'jays probably never made a girl cum before, he probably doesn't even know how to in the first place'," he mimicked with a lazy look.

"j-jay-" you start only for him to grab the nape of your neck to pull you close.

"listen to me and listen carefully brat, tomorrow you're going to apologize to me in front of everyone and you're going to do exactly as I say, understood?" he threatens, his eyes blazing daring you to defy him.

"or else, you know what," referring to the picture on his phone.

you whine at his harsh grip before nodding, "words brat."

"yes, sir."

"good."

he harshly lets go of you, your frail body toppling back slightly—bumping into the desk you were set on top of only a few minutes ago.

he starts to walk towards the door of the class, the keys that the teacher had trusted him with in his palm.

he reaches the door and grips the handle, stopping for a second to turn and look at you.

"oh, and don't wear panties tomorrow—i have a few things planned. have fun cleaning yourself up, __," he grins before leaving you behind.

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!

[honeybelleee-deactivated2024112]

snow angel | p.js

halloween special ( teaser! )

summary - in a high school plagued by a series of mysterious murders, a high school girl y/n lives a double life as a popular camgirl named snow angel. but when jay discovers her secret, he manipulates her into submission and control.

genre - camgirl!reader x rich badboy!jay, dom!jay x sub!y/n, smut, horror, revenge

warnings - lower case intended, lots of degrading (slut, bimbo, whore, plaything, toy, slave, jay mentions that reader is just a hole to fuck), riki and y/n are a couple, jealous!jay, cheating, sorta dub-con, reader is naked while jay is clothed, lots of begging, lots of edging, hair-pulling, mentions of masturbation and sex toy (dildo), teasing, overstimulation, public sex (library), knife play, food play (whipped cream), being tied up, protected sex (reader is on pill but unmentioned

belles notes - this is nasty asf MDNI pls, only interact if you are 18+!

wc: 3,2k ++

cooking a lil sth for halloween

"strip," jay commanded, his eyes dark with lust and control.

y/n swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she slowly began to undress. her mind raced, trying to find a way out, but the fear of her secret being exposed kept her silent. jay watched with a smug grin as she obeyed, enjoying every second of her submission. she hated how helpless she felt, but there was nothing she could do.

he would often keep her waiting, making her kneel before him, her eyes fixed on his crotch as he casually sipped a drink, fully clothed while she was naked and vulnerable.

"beg for it, slut," he'd command, his voice cold and detached.

"beg me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

desperate to please him and protect her secret, y/n would plead and moan, her lips parting in anticipation. Jay would then unbutton his pants, revealing his thick, erect cock. he'd grip her hair, guiding her mouth onto his shaft, thrusting deep into her throat. she would gag and choke, her eyes watering, but he showed no mercy.

"that's it, you filthy whore," he'd grunt. "take it all, and remember who's in control."

perm taglist - @ancnymcnzjy @june19190

[domjaehyun]

i ❤️ hot nerds (l.dh, n.jm) — preview

PAIRING. pervert!nerd!haechan, pervert!nerd!jaemin x popular!fem!reader  GENRE. smut, slight fluff CONTENTS. explicit smut (kissing, fingering, oral (receiving), titfucking, breast play, lots of drool and spit, overstimulation, snowballing, dirty talk, rimming, anal play, missionary, riding, mating press, breeding/creampies) WORD COUNT. 8.7k; teaser wc: 525 words SUMMARY. when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class. PLAYLIST. n/a NOTES. remember when i said i was up to something with these two? this is it! the full fic is already posted on my patreon here, and i’ll be posting it in full to tumblr on september 30th!

“You don’t get it—we need to be fuckable!” Haechan stresses, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Haechan, you’re already fuckable.” you explain calmly, and he opens his mouth in preparation for some witty remark, but after processing your words, his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open uselessly, his accusingly pointed finger now pointing meekly at the floor at an angle. 

“I—So—so you would fuck us?” he stammers, and you nod slowly, looking from him to Jaemin.

“Why do you think I let you get away with your numerous dorm violations?” you snort in amusement, and he blinks hard.

“I thought you just took pity on us, y’know? Like you had a soft spot for nerds or something.”

“I don’t have a soft spot for nerds.” you answer. “I have a soft spot for hot nerds, though.”

His mouth opens and closes pathetically as his normally quick-witted brain scrambles to process the information you’ve just presented to him. Jaemin is quicker to act, sitting forward so suddenly the move could be considered as predatory, and you’re not sure if it’s the lighting reflecting off of his glasses or what, but there is most definitely a glint in his eye as he regards you, his lips gradually stretching into a toothy grin.

“So you let us get away with stuff? Because you like us? Like what?” he questions, and you tilt your head to the side as you think. 

“Your candles, for starters. Haechan’s tapestry, your many many noise complaints from your neighbors when you two get too heated as you’re gaming,” you start to list off on your fingers, and you cross one leg over the other, not missing the way both of their eyes shift to your newly exposed skin and how… hungry they look. “The way you—” you point at Haechan, “always try to get away with looking up my skirt.”

Haechan’s face flushes a pretty shade of red, and you smile, amused, as he scrambles to defend himself. Before he can, you hold up a hand to silence him. 

“Haechan?”

“Yes?” he replies meekly.

“If I minded, I would have said something by now. I certainly wouldn’t have kept wearing skirts and accidentally flashing you.” 

His eyes roll back into his head with a whimper and he nods in understanding. 

“And you—” you round on Jaemin, who’s still perched like a lion about to pounce, and the male just smiles wider, tilting his head to the side curiously.

“What about me?”

“You probably think you’re slick with the little lingering touches on my back and waist when you’re ‘trying to get by,’ but I only let you do that because I like it.”

His grin widens more than you even thought possible, the glint in his eye now unmistakable. “Oh, yeah? Where else do you like being touched?”

“I mean,” you hum, uncrossing your thighs and smiling as both of their gazes hone in on the space between your legs, “I could tell you, but I think you’d rather have me show you.”

“I have a better idea,” Jaemin murmurs, moving towards you slowly. “How about you let us find out?”

reminder that the full fic is already posted on my patreon if you don't want to wait!

[luvyeni]

( drabble ) after party ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 심재윤 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ after watching you on the runway , he finally got you at the after party ヾ

idol!jake・ runwaymodel!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ fingering , unprotected sex , oral ( male rec. ) wc ・0.6 k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 he looks so fine in that photo , the things i want to say is crazy ...

being an idol for so long; jake was used to the fashion show — and he loved it , flying to different countries, seeing all the cool clothes… and the best of all; the sexy runway models , like you.

the moment he saw you on the runway, he was enamored by you; his eyes following you all the way down, until jungwon had to pull him back before fell out of his chair. when you came back around for the final walk — he knew he had to find a way to talk to you.

he had his chance; his other members talking amongst themselves and other celebrities, he was nursing his glass of wine in his hand — watching you dance with another model across the room. you made eye contact with him , giving him a flirty smile and a wink before walking away; sitting his glass down , standing up. “im going to the bathroom.

he followed behind you; you looked over your shoulder, smiling when you saw him behind you. he stayed close enough to see you , but far enough to not raise any suspicions. his eyes low on your low cut dress , your entire back out , he bit his lip as you turned into a quiet corner — away from everyone else.

“oh fuck…” you sighed , his plump lips on yours , a giggle leaving your glossed lips. “i don't even know your name.” he pulled away , face red from the alcohol; hair messy from you tugging at it. “it's jake.” his hands on your waist, working it's way down. “jake.” you repeated , his hand coming up your dress. “you're getting a little handsy there jake , you don't even know me.” you teased. “i know enough.” he said , cupping your heat. “shit.” you moaned out. “like how wet you are for me.”

it was on from there , his finger stringing your clothed clit , pushing your thong to the side. “please.” he pushed a finger inside you. “fuck , your fingers.” sucking on your neck. “you're so tight , been waiting to fuck you since i saw you on the runway.” he said hissing as you tightened around his fingers. “fuck me please.”

undoing the buttons of his slacks , his cock ready to be freed. “fuck , gonna stuff you full of my cock.” he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist , slowly working his cock into your warm cunt. “fuck baby you're so fucking tight.” he cursed , hand coming up to squeeze your boob. “deeper please.” your hand on his waist as he fucked you , both of you forgetting you were still in public and someone could easily hear you. “such a slut for my cock baby -shit- you don't even know me and you were so ready to take me.”

he fully lifted you up against the wall, his cock hitting you much deeper, your cunt squeezing you. “oh fuck your pussy is like heaven.” he moaned. “god im gonna cum , gonna cum.” you gasped , yanking his hair. “fuck jake im gonna cum.” you screamed. “fuck , fuck get on your knees im gonna cum.”

quickly pulling out of you; getting on your knees, he tugged at his cock , throwing his head back as you wrapped you shimmering lips around his tip. “oh fuck!” he groaned out , ropes of cum shooting into your mouth. “mmh fuck.”

you swallowed his cum , sticking your tongue out. he let out a breathless gasp. “shit when will you be in korea? i need to see you again.” you smiled , wiping the remnants of his load of your lips , standing up. “i can make time.”

“where the fuck have you been?” jay asked once the boy made it back to his seat. “we were waiting for you , let's go.” he turned around to where you were dancing with a model once again , your hair was messy , but he knew it was from dancing , you turned to him smiling , he bit his lip turning back to his friend. “i was in the bathroom.”

"mhm wipe the pink lip gloss off your neck before you lie , and before the camera sees it."

©LUVYENI translations to other sites prohibited, reblogs are appreciated but not forced !

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[lovinenha]

i cant breathe

[ja3yun-deactivated20241117]

Red Ocean | P.JS

vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!

Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.

It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.

But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.

Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.

It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.

“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.

Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.

The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.

Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.

Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.

“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”

The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.

Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being? 

Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.

Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.

Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.

Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.

“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.

Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.

“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”

Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.

"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.

Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."

Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."

Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.

_____

Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him. 

His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.

Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.

The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk. 

His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.

She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.

As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.

"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.

He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.

With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.

Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.

There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.

He has to tread carefully here.

The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.

Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.

The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"

Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.

"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."

The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.

The password.

How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.

"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.

As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.

"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.

With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.

Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.

But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.

As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.

"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars. 

Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.

He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.

Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.

_____

As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?

Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.

Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.

With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.

As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.

“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness. 

"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.

Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.

Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.

The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?

More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.

“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.

The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.

As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.

He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?

“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward. 

As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.

Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.

As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation. 

This is going to be a fun night.

"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"

As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.

Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.

Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.

Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.

"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.

You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"

Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.

Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.

One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.

Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”

You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.

If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.

You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room,  the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination. 

Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure. 

The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.

In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.

To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.

But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.

Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.

The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.

"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.

But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."

You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups. 

“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him. 

To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.

"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"

With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.

Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.

"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."

It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.

“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.

Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.

Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”

As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.

"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."

As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.

Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration. 

It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.

You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.

Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.

As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?

Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.

His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.

You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.

Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.

Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.

Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.

But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."

Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.

Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.

Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.

In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.

Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further. 

You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”

Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”

He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.

You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.

Maybe he was full of surprises.

Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.

Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position. 

You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.

His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you. 

Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.

Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”

If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.

Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need. 

Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.

You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.

Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls. 

“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.

You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.

Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it. 

With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.

Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.

You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.

Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.

Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.

With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.

Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly. 

You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again. 

The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.

Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.

With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.

Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.

You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.

“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.

As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.

Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.

With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.

He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely. 

“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.

As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”

His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.

With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.

"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.

A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.

In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.

"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.

Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner. 

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.

“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much. 

He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”

It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.

No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.

Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary. 

Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.

“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.

“You will, they always do.”

[quirly]

everyone i know supports palestine❤️

i know it must be hard for some people to have tough conversations with friends/family/etc right now so i am feeling very grateful to have a good circle.

my heart aches for the world. how are you all?

[deckiss]

guess what (≧▽≦) pjs

s jay has something to confess to you g flulff p jay x reader

you layed your head on jay's shoulder. he was watching youtube since he was bored. you leaned in to watch the video he was watching.

you stayed there for a while until jay turned his phone off. he looked at you with soft eyes and smiled.

"what are you doing?" he asked with a smile. you smiled back at him and responded. "watching videos with you." jay chuckled and wrapped his arms around you.

he pulled you close to him, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "guess what?" he whispered against your cheek.

you pulled away and looked into his eyes. "chicken butt?"

jay laughed out loud. he had a happy sparkle in his eyes as he looked you at. "no silly." you pouted. "then what?" jay took a deep breath, bringing his hand to your cheek.

"i love you." heat rushed to your cheeks. you couldn't look into his eyes as your heart made flips in your chest.

jay smiled at your reaction. he brought his face close to yours, his lips inches away. "i love you." he whispered softly before connecting his lips with yours.

you felt like you were on fire. it was crazy how flustered he could get you. you kissed back softly, telling him how much you loved him through the kiss.

[synthetickitsune]

Vanishing Act ✧ y.jh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x gn!reader Genre: angst Summary: He's a coward. Knowing he's doing the right thing means little when he's doing it in the worst way possible - but it's the only way that Jeonghan's able to do it. Word count: 2.3k Warnings: abandonment, running away before the wedding A/N: On today's episode of why am i doing this to myself... ♫ Prásknu Bičem - Štěpán Kozub, Jiří Kohut ♫ What Could Have Been - Sting, Ray Chen

The morning mocks him.

Since when is it this bright this early?

Must be the ending spring. The season is slowly coming to an end and the blossoms fall, the colors step back to make room for the lively green. The animals will raise their young now.

He feels his heart in his throat. No, not his heart. More like a lump of something that's long since died and went cold. On a second thought, though, isn’t that what his heart is? Isn’t that what it feels like? Perhaps not entirely, but things would be easier if that was how it is.

His palms are sweaty, he's all sticky and disgusting with cold sweat. His own heartbeat is rushing in his ears. He can't hear anything. Everything he sees is a blur. Then again, that one is his own fault as he madly, almost hysterically keeps shaking his head and frantically looks around the room for anything that he could grab. Just one thing would be good enough.

He’d do anything to avoid looking at you but you’re all he can see.

The car will be here in about ten minutes. 

He needs to get a move on, but then he would need to focus and all he can focus on is you - still fast asleep and unaware. Right up to the last moment.

He went to great lengths to ensure it would stay that way.

He knows it’s cruel. He hopes it will make you hate him enough to forget everything.

He spots the note on your bedside table. The pieces of paper torn from his journal; the couple pages that he wanted to fill with words but that ended up empty, safe for a pathetic i'm sorry.

His hand still itches to reach for the papers, for pen, to write and to explain. He doesn't let himself give in. He knows the words would continue to evade him even if he tried. It’d be impossible to write anything that would justify the annihilation he's about to cause if he was the greatest poet to ever live.

Asking for forgiveness would be pointless and the greatest sin.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. He truly doesn’t. But he sees no other way this could end, and he understands. He’s not stupid. So he doesn’t ask for you to forgive him, yet even just those three lonely words seem like cowardice.

Because he is a coward.

A pathetic, no good coward that can't even look at you.

He knows if he did he wouldn't see you - not only you.

He would see the venue. 

The beautiful flowers you've spent weeks picking come to mind first. You’ve never fought, it was always you two having conversations and discussions that he wouldn't hesitate to call downright study sessions. It felt like going back in time to when you were students as you've set over books upon books on flower language. You both wanted the blossoms to be meaningful. 

Going through the final list in his head now, he has to bite down on his own fist to avoid screaming, to muffle the choked and broken sob tearing itself from his throat.

There are so many eternities, confessions of the purest forms of love, hopes and promises - all of them now empty. Or that's how you will see them, and maybe that's for the best.

Looking at you, he would also see the simple yet elegant white decor of the venue. The white that will turn into the color of sadness that it is. He will never get to see it filled with guests. And you will never get to wear the beautiful surprise he has to see - that he won't get to see for he’s not a masochist enough to look into the other room where it lies hidden. He won’t do that to himself. Though he supposes if it’s white you’ve decided to wear, it still might, appropriately, serve function as a mourning gown.

Will you choose to hurt yourself more? Not on purpose. He knows you won’t be able to help your curiosity. You won’t resist the dread. There, of course, will be no reason to trust him anymore, or he might’ve added to the poor imitation of a goodbye letter to not look for him, to stay away from the venue altogether. 

Why would you try to search for him, though? Isn’t his i’m sorry telling enough? Will you think he’s only teasing? He hopes not. He would never be so cruel as to joke about this. Even if he supposes it will look like this - your relationship, the next step you were supposed to take - was all a joke to him.

It wasn’t.

He wants you to know that, but he knows even if he tried telling you, you wouldn’t believe him. Not after what he’ll have done.

Every new thought feels like a punch to the gut and it makes him nearly double over. Will you walk down the aisle? Will you be crying? Of course you will, and it makes his heart shrivel up thinking about you looking for him, uselessly, with tears streaming down your cheeks. Will your parents be there? Will they hold you so you don't fall apart instead of guiding you forward to entrust you to him?

What will they think? Will they curse the man who hurt their baby? They should. They should curse him. Burn all the memories of him - the photos, gifts, all that he’s bound to forget or simply leave behind because he physically can't remove everything that’s his or that will remind you of him but oh, he would if he only could.

Your parents should finish the job if he can't. For once, they should ignore your cries and just do it.

Let him burn and turn to ashes for breaking your heart, for causing hurt so deep and irreparable that he knows you’ll never fully recover from it.

Jeonghan will carry the scar too, deep on his heart and soul.

How can he do this to you?

He can't think about it. He can't. He will lose his mind.

His fingers are pulling on the roots of his hair and he barely feels a thing even as some give way.

He’ll hurt you so bad.

He knows.

He wishes he didn't but he knows. He knows how much it will hurt. He’s suffering too, he’s hurting too.

But he has no right to hope for relief or to complain.

Knowing he's doing the right thing brings no comfort when he's doing it in the worst way possible. It's the only way he can do it, though.

He's been living in despair, he's driven himself crazy thinking about how to do this - how to hurt you as little as possible. There's no such way; nothing he can do to make this anything but destructive. And there's no other way to do it that he could pull off either. No other way he could go through with this without backing out.

How pathetic is he?

Sitting, collapsed, in the corner with both hands covering his mouth so that he doesn't wake you up, choking on his own sobs. He can't see through tears, and he has no right to, yet all he wants is to see you one final time.

He wants to see you so much. His heart can’t break any more. 

He needs to see you. 

Even though it means seeing all that will never come to be, all that he will regret not being able to give you.

Jeonghan knows what everyone is going to say about him - that he’s heartless, a sadist, and an asshole the world would be better off without.

He knows.

And they will all be right.

Then again, however, wouldn't the alternative be equally as cruel?

Because Jeonghan also knows that he could go through with the wedding. He could stay, he could live with you, could spend the rest of his life with you - and he’s helpless because he wants it so much it hurts.

He wants to keep waking up with you, he wants to keep coming home to you, wants to keep holding you, wants to feel your fingers in his hair.

He wants all of that, forever.

And perhaps that’s the problem.

No matter how much he wants it, he doesn’t feel it. Perhaps he just wants to be able to stay complacent in the life that seems like it’s been all laid out for him. The one route he could take and never have to worry again.

He wants it - for heaven’s sake he wants it so much, he wants it but it’s like he’s forcing himself to walk on burning embers. And that’s not what he wants. He wants it to be like before, for everything to flow naturally, not like he’s forcing it down his own throat only to satisfy everyone but himself.

He can do it for long enough, but he can’t do that for the rest of his life. 

His heart breaks, and he breaks, and his damn tears won't stop so he could look at you.

He wants so much.

But Jeonghan is anything but selfish.

As cold as the nights without you will be, they won't be as bad as the dread and the sinking feeling in his stomach that he got every time you’d talk about the future.

He doesn’t know where it came from, nor is he sure when it started.

All he knows is that he can't give you what you want.

Maybe it's just that the concept of marriage, all that it’s supposed to mean and be, is putting too much pressure on him. Maybe he's just not ready.

He doesn't know - he wishes he did, he wants to know what's wrong so bad that it’s killing him. Because if he knew, then he could solve it. He could ask for more time to work it out but while he wants you, imagining the married life makes his heartbeat race in a way that makes him nauseous and his throat closes up. He panics so bad that he can’t feel his limbs and gets paralyzed. All he can think of is running away somewhere; somewhere home where he will be isolated from time and the world.

Perhaps it's just that he only loves the idea of ‘you’. Someone familiar, loving, safe.

When did it all go wrong?

He wants to go back to when his love for you was bright and warm, not anxiety- and nausea-inducing.

He tried to change how he feels but he is only a flawed, imperfect human and some things are just beyond his control. If he thought about it deeply enough, he could figure out the pieces and recreate the bigger picture of how it all came to this. He could, it’d be so easy - but he's not strong enough.

He can't do anything but swallow whimper after whimper because his vision finally focused for long enough to see you.

You, who’s still sleeping so peacefully, relaxed and happy and satisfied. You’re almost glowing. Will you be able to ever lit up like that again? In your dreams, you must be married to him already. He must avoid robbing you of that as well.

He’s already taken, taking, so much.

Watching you, the list gets longer and his eyes overflow again.

You've always talked about having a family. 

Who's going to give it to you now?

It's nonsense but his eyes that are barely able to make out shapes through tears drift to the empty spot between your chest and your arm. A baby, a cat, a puppy - you’ve never decided properly - would fit there so nicely and snuggly. It would feel your warmth and the reassuring safety your embrace provides. He’d know.

It's just another thing he can't give you.

Another reason he needs to leave. To disappear.

You need to move on and forget him.

You need to hate him so much that you will make your life the best one out of pure spite.

He knows that's not how it works but he needs to pretend.

As the final act of self-preservation he needs to persuade himself you can be fine without him even if it will take a while. 

And he truly wants to believe that.

He can’t live in a world where he broke you without any hope of you ever getting better.

His phone starts buzzing in his back pocket and he wipes his face furiously before grabbing his backpack and the couple bags he’s packed and bolting out the door without looking back. If he turns back to steal one last look, he knows he will stay and doom both of you.

He only allows himself a second to close the front door gingerly, leaning his forehead against the wood for another second.

He will miss the home you've had.

It was a good one - the best one he’s had, actually.

He doesn't meet Seungcheol’s or Joshua's eyes once he gets into the car.

It's obvious from the tense silence that greets him that they want to yell at him some more, try to make him talk to you about it like the one extra scolding would make a difference. 

And to be perfectly honest Jeonghan isn't sure he could stand his ground in his current state - but that's precisely the reason why his friends keep their mouth shut.

They only share a concerned look.

For as tough and determined as Jeonghan seemed telling them about it and asking for their help - because he couldn't trust anyone with his life like he could these two - he is a mess now it all came to a head.

Seungcheol turns the key and starts the car without a word.

The engine roars to life and as they drive away, Jeonghan can see the window to your bedroom getting smaller and smaller, the sun reflected in it dying with each meter.

But that's okay.

Something inside him is dying too.

[dropsofletters-deactivated20240]

how to unsubscribe to dating

SUMMARY: on april 18th, hansol likes his favorite youtuber’s instagram picture. not because of her content—though, he finds himself laughing at all of her weekly videos—but because he thinks she’s gorgeous. that is how it ends. just a like on a picture that no one will see.

three years later and after a tough break-up, the internet hates her and a misstep has hansol dragged into the drama. now, everyone thinks they are dating and what a better way to gain subscribers and have millions on views on their videos? just let them think it’s real and work on a whole season of dare videos for the world to enjoy.

only that it is not so easy, one can subscribe to a youtube channel but not really unsubscribe to falling in love.

TITLE: how to unsubscribe to dating.

PAIRING: chwe hansol x reader

GENRE: youtuber!au ; fake dating-ish!au ; youtube drama!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; idiots in love!au

WORD COUNT: 14,014 words

GENRE: fluff ; humor ; drama ; angst if you squint ; suggestive

NOTE: this was a kofi request! if you want me to write anything, you can go over there and request something from me.

The secret to color theory is that there are primary colors, and the rest are just blend-able shades that would not exist without bases, foundations and ‘trials-and-errors’. In some sense, we correlate the color of our lives to that primary stance—we are red, we are yellow…the intensity that we want to be. How we want to counterpart in a main role that, inherently, sometimes won’t be settled upon us. The saddening truth of being a purple, or a lime green.

She would have never imagined herself to be anything more than a yellow. She said, when she was younger, that her voice would be so high that the annoying tone that came with her made her stand out in any crowd. Yellow. And then came heartbreak, teenage years, the blending with a pure gray or a black undertone that could never get her to darken her soul. It was more like a mustard yellow. Lulled. Not as bright. Just wishing upon standing out again, blending nicely with everyone, but always sticking out like a sore thumb. Hard to look in the eyes.

For the past two months, she felt like she was back to her bright yellow. To smiles with all teeth, shared with Jay as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder; to late-night talks with the phone screen glaring across her vision as she whispered small ‘I don’t want to go’s. Relatively, that comes to a stop. Because, in the eyes of a man that she dated with the dumbfounded hope to finally meet the love of her life, she was never yellow. God, he’d cringe at the mere sound of the Coldplay song. She was brown.

As in shitty brown.

Jay should be better than this. In actuality, after how everything fell down with a break-up text that he never really responded to, she doesn’t think he’s better, but hey, common sense is a thing still, isn’t it? As a YouTuber, quite like her, who shared the same interests and niche with a commentary channel based on pop-culture, one would think that he would not incorporate their ‘not-that-talked-about’ relationship in a Tweet. Though, maybe she had seen him as a bright blue, when he’s nothing but—at best—a plum or a dark gray.

You know, like having concrete between your teeth. Not that pleasurable, neither something she wants to try again.

@notthatjay_lee: how does that song go? a, b, c, d, e, f…thank you for wasting my motherfucking time.

She chuckles. Actually, full-on laughs when sitting on the counter at her kitchen, trying or supposedly about to edit her newest video commenting on Disney’s old shows and how she binge-watched them on a brim. Not that the viewers should know that she watched the entirety of Hannah Montana in a week because she was going through a break-up and crying for the asshole that Jay Lee is, but she needed to update after being a month away.

She continues scrolling, watching the thread that has formed in the tweet and the hundreds of comments that tag her. They weren’t precisely out as a relationship, but it was known. They went to conventions together, appeared in pictures with fans tagged together. It wasn’t hidden under the rug, but it was also not blasted out of proportion like Jay is doing right now.

He responded to a fan.

@jaysassissick: We are here for you, Jay! I can’t believe what some bitches can do for fame.

@notthatjay_lee: imagine getting cheated on by someone who can’t even reach a million subscribers. lol. can sadly relate.

“You just didn’t…” She mutters to herself, standing up and closing her laptop with a bang. More notifications pop up, from all social media that she could muster. Pictures tagged of the two of them together coming up with headlines that read commentary-channel YouTubers feuding. Cheating. Cheater, out of all things.

And that’s the thing about women. If they are not colors that blend well with the primary ones, like men expect to be, they are tarnished and burned to ashes to stay in the ground. That was her case, in which her silence was the ignition of a chain of events that now are out of her reach. None of those people that keep harassing her online can know that Jay had been distant the past month; that he’d spend more of his days running away from her than actually trying to put effort into the relationship.

That it’d be more looking through social media to see him commenting on pictures of his supposed ‘friends’ wearing bikinis and his phone hidden with his face down whenever they were together. It was not confirmed, of course, she didn’t have enough proximity with him, neither did they live together for her to confirm that her suppositions were true, but something she knows. Jay is not a saint, neither is she for the rage that builds within her like a Lego house that burns with the unsatiable need of revenge.

She almost believes that the best way to go about this is making it as public as he is. However, she knows she’s better. Yellow, bright, shining, as she has always been, just shadowed by someone who was envious of how burning her colors could be. Hence, she puts her phone down after turning it off, quite like he did whenever a fight ensued between the two and he would play the victim card with a pout to his lips. She thinks about it—the video she is supposed to edit, the pictures on her phone she has yet to delete and the revival, that word that speaks about new beginnings and definitely, a smirk that tells the past that she’s doing much better.

For now, she’s just alone in her apartment. With a bowl of noodles that has gone cold and a heart that is palpitating far too fast, for heartbreak isn’t easy, much less when it’s this open, but she can think of ways of getting back to Jay, whether the public knows it’s directly thrown his way or not.

She owes this man nothing.

“Jeonghan, I need you recording my shit. Not looking at your phone.”

With a hand quipping closed as if asking for Hansol’s lips to remain shut, Jeonghan remains as relaxed as he had been when they started recording this weekly’s recap. Though, while Hansol had been stumbling over his lines—as per usual on a Saturday morning, that’s the only time they could meet up because Seungcheol was going on a trip this weekend for his cousin’s wedding—, Jeonghan had frankly lost his mind to whatever is showcased in his phone. So far in the text he’s reading, which Hansol is certain is not a book, that he leaned back on one of the love seats in Hansol’s office, propped his knees to his chest in fetal position and lurked through whatever caught his interest like a lion looking for his prey.

“The moment you can get a word out without stuttering is the moment we start recording.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his black hair, covering the rudeness of his words with a soft smile. Hansol knows better than to take Jeonghan’s words close to heart, but still.

“I just needed some more coffee.”

Seungcheol enters the room then, with a new Starbucks drink since Hansol decided to steal his. “You drank my macchiato.” With a slap on the back of Hansol’s head, the man takes a seat on the other empty love-seat, as if there is not a whole video to be recorded and posted on Monday. “But Hansol’s not wrong. I have to get on that plane at four and it’s nine in the morning. We can get through this video if we just start recording it.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond and Hansol takes this time to sigh deeply and toss his head back. Things were easier when posting a YouTube video wasn’t so…meticulous. At the beginning, just over eight years ago, Hansol had posted a video on social media that had gotten quite visibly viral. He had over a million views in just fourteen hours, breaking records somehow, making it to meme accounts and Vine compilations. Stupid as it could get, it was a video of Hansol wearing a swimming hat and those aesthetic sunglasses that resembled John Lennon’s style, with Jeonghan zooming in on the frame and him saying: ‘bitch’ before the video came to an end.

It had literally no context, but he made a living out of it.

That’s how he launched his career, changed the name and created an online persona. He called himself Zach, sporting bright and quite frankly unfitting outfits and making meme weekly recaps. He spoke about what was new on the Internet, made fun of some videos, never quite made it to the commentary channel spectrum but became a voice that over ten million people had subscribed to. No one knew that his real name was Hansol, or that he wasn’t as outspoken as he was in his videos. Never an opinion that breaks or makes a room.

Jeonghan grabs the coffee mug from Seungcheol’s hold, ignoring the man’s complaints to take a sip. “I think I have a topic we need to add to this week’s review.” He finally pulls away from his original position, biting down on his lip like he does when he has an idea that he can’t keep on the depths of his chest. “Have you heard about the newest drama with Jay Lee?”

Hansol crosses his arms across his chest, sitting on the edge of the desk that holds his computer, always in front of him in his videos. “Jay…Lee? Doesn’t ring a bell for me.”

“You know, the TikTok guy who makes POV’s videos.” Jeonghan urges on, tossing a glance towards Seungcheol who finally snatches his drink before giving a curt nod.

“Even I remember who he is.”

“How many guys don’t make ridiculous videos on TikTok?” Hansol prompts, only to have Jeonghan sighing.

“He was known on YouTube for his music videos and parodies. You know how that went a little bit downhill lately, so his niche has changed. Makes videos every once in a while.” Jeonghan includes in his narrative, turning his phone around to show a picture of a man he now recognizes. Damn, even in his beginnings as a YouTuber, Jay Lee already had a bunch of people under his name. With long, tossed back black hair, tattoos that scatter across a slim, tall body and a pair of glasses that always rest on the brim of his straight nose. He was of interest for a bunch of people on the Internet, even to this day.

“What about him?” Hansol questions, only to have Jeonghan clapping his hands once.

“He’s burning the Internet with his latest allegations. He was dating a commentary channel YouTuber, though they never accepted it, but he’s making the allegations that she cheated on him and has announced that he’s releasing a diss track to explain everything.” He’ll never understand how the world revolves around drama, but Jeonghan gives more explanation by saying her name and giving him the phone once again.

The picture shows a couple together with a fan, and he recognizes her with far more ease. He remembers last summer, when he would spend most of his afternoons laughing about her videos with the graphics she made. Very rarely does her face show on her videos, but she draws a little character that speaks, through her commentary, about the topic at hand. Always a show. A video. A meme. Hell, he thinks that she once talked about him on a video years ago.

Jay is much taller than her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, squishing their cheeks together as they hold peace signs, her hand interlocked with the young fan’s. They didn’t look necessarily in love, but close enough to it. Like the beginning of a love that had just started to flourish.

“What has he said?” Seungcheol questions, now interested in the topic.

“What hasn’t he said? He has spent the past three days creating a YouTube war. He has even dropped her name a few times, tagging her, asking her to be upfront because she has escaped the internet. MIA and all.”

Hansol can’t imagine how tough it is to go through a break-up where the other person is trying to plot everyone against her. Sure, he’s not certain if she cheated, but he takes his own phone to look through Twitter, seeing him post pictures of the two of them together—clearly personal, never seen by anyone but them—, adding thread after thread of how in love he was with her and how badly she broke his heart. It seemed like he was bleeding through a wound that was never quite as open as he made it out to be.

“What an asshole.” He mutters, getting closer to the computer and writing something down on his script. “I think we can add it to this week’s episode. The last bit. Just for a few clicks and because…he’s really getting out of control.”

“And everyone is supporting him.” Jeonghan adds, shrugging his shoulders. “Would be nice to give an opinion that isn’t sided one way or the other.”

“…That’s putting Hansol against a man that has just about the same following as him. Including him in the war isn’t going to do the channel any good.”

Hansol looks up at that moment, raising his eyebrows and weighting the options. Seungcheol isn’t wrong, but he knows this is a topic that needs to be talked about. Break ups on the internet. Where some people post videos crying and hugging for the last time, while others take their following to side with them as if it was a parent going through divorce.

“Yes, but this whole Zach character is about that. Speaking about what I think is wrong, right or funny…and these tweets? Stupid, borderline funny, over-line worrying.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his macchiato, bringing a shoulder up in nonchalance. “I’ll have to take care of the mess after, but if that’s what’s going to bring the views, go for it.”

Is he really doing it for views, though? Or maybe, he just thinks it’s inherently wrong to destroy someone’s career that way, until they are too afraid to go on the internet because of hate. Jay Lee will have to learn a lesson about being made fun of.

@notthatjay_lee: glad to know the mystery’s resolved. @chwethatzach you’ve cleared the rumors up. song coming in three days!

Hyeji had said it seven months ago when she started liking Jay, as she flipped on tarot decks, spread them neatly on the coffee table between them, speaking through a cloud caused by the blunt between her lips. Jay Lee’s an imbecile, he’ll break your heart. She didn’t listen, because in her mind all men go through a phase of being overly-confident and, quite frankly, assholes. She opted to believe that Jay was willing to change and talk, venturing into a friendship and then, into whatever kind of relationship they had held that now is a complete disaster.

Her best friend, Moon Hyeji, runs her fingers through her dirty hair after showing her the tweet that Jay had just posted. Tagging her after, nonetheless. Hyeji, as wild as she is, with long locks of wavy hair and a rose tattoo on the column of her neck, had called Jay just a day ago, telling him to back off before she took legal actions. Taking it from the woman who is the daughter of one of the richest men in the country, a businessman nonetheless, Jay should have taken it a little bit more seriously. Hence, he doesn’t.

“What the fuck do I even have to do with that dude?” She questions, finally standing up from her position on Hyeji’s lap. Ever since this issue went to absolute hell, with the diss track incoming and a handful of people making drama videos about the timeline of their very short-lived relationship, Hyeji had travelled all the way from London to get here and eat piles of ice cream while bad-mouthing Jay. Only that it didn’t help her the slightest.

She wants to talk, but she doesn’t know how to go on about the issue. Fueling the problem even more if just going to have his fans speaking with more fervor, and just like how he doesn’t have proof of her cheating, she also doesn’t have anything to defend herself with about not cheating.

“There’s a video, apparently…” Hyeji roams through her phone with long nails before she displays her screen on the TV in front of them. The image that loads is of the start of a video of someone she knows somewhat well, for she really likes Zach Chwe’s videos, or at least, she can catch up on them every once in a while.

Zach has always been a little different than most. He feels like a true friend that one can talk with as he launches in that green chair of his, always wearing clothes that leave everything to the imagination and would have everyone talking about him. He’s wearing a tie-dye hoodie, as per usual in some of his videos, with an apron on top of it that reads ‘the chef’s dead’ and a pair of sunglasses that rest on top of his brown hair. His soft eyebrows move with each of his words, firstly greeting his audience, then speaking about the newest memes found on the internet.

“He must have spoken about your issue with Jay.”

“How so? He never talks about drama.” She asks, getting a look from Hyeji who clears her throat soon after.

“People believe he’s the one guy Jay is saying you cheated with.” Her best friend whispers, moving through the video, getting fast glimpses of Zach laughing, tossing his head back, speaking through slim lips and using his ring-cladded hands to express his points. Only three minutes before the video ends does the image of Jay with her and a fan comes on the screen, earning Hyeji a few taps on her shoulder.

“There! There! Stop the video there!”

The darkness of her room, reeking the smell of orange chicken and diet soda, is bathed in the light of Zach Chwe as he rolls on his chair and says: “There’s a reason us men are called assholes and I think it’s because Jay Lee exists. Okay, I’m not anyone to be putting my opinion here and I usually stay away from these things, so I’m not sure if she cheated or not…but isn’t it, at least, the best thing you can do to spell correctly as you’re dissing your ex?”

Then, the screen shows screenshots of Jay’s tweets, bathed in hate, writing in the worst possible way and yet, with a few errors.

She hadn’t noticed that as she got drowned into the drama that he had created, so she smiles for what feels like the first time this week.

“You don’t even spell that well, Zach!” Someone shouts from the background, and she knows Zach Chwe normally has his friends putting in some words for spice on his videos, but she actually laughs along with him.

“More of a reason to critique, I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But hey, remember those Facebook videos we talked about a few weeks ago? If you haven’t checked it out, I’ll leave the link to that video on the description, but we were making fun about those mom videos where they make their daughters fearful of sending nudes because some creep will post them on their Facebook page. I thought men like that didn’t exist, until I figured out this whole Jay Lee thing. He’s a hair away from posting a picture of her feet, I tell you so.”

The video doesn’t last much long after that, with Zach making fun of Jay’s tweets and then, the camera zooming in on his face for an outro recalling his beginnings online. However, Hyeji has fallen silent, with her knees propped under her chin, using her free hand to caress the column of her ear, as always, seeking for a way of making her feel better through touch.

“This sounds…like the internet is going insane.” Hyeji then reaches for her phone, shaking in the air. “Come on, unlock it and turn on your notifications again!”

“What? Why?” She is not sure she’s ready to lurk through social media once again, Hyeji has been doing that for her instead, like her little manager, blocking the hate that gets real and personal.

“Jay is playing it off as if Zach Chwe is the one that you’re dating, or the one you cheated on him with.”

“I didn’t cheat on him—

“I know, but he’s trying to get views and I need to know if Zach’s team contacted you, so open that phone and get a pair of balls for what we’re about to face.”

A pair of balls would be little to what she needs once she opens Twitter and Instagram.

On Instagram, she has been tagged on a bunch of pictures. Headlines that include her profile picture on YouTube and Zach Chwe’s picture. Titles that go on the rampant lie of ‘YouTube Stars Zach Chwe and OfDrawingsAndWords on a relationship!’ scattering across her vision on every platform she comes across of.

“I’m doomed. Jay keeps winning no matter what I do—”

“Because you haven’t said anything. You’re protecting him even when he’s trying to destroy you.” Hyeji advices, pushing on her Instagram notifications until she sees it, a direct message from the YouTuber who is implicated on this drama with her, nonetheless. “So, you either take the reigns right here, right now or Jay Lee is going to drown your career before it even reached the shore.”

Shaking fingertips reach for the Instagram message, closing her eyes tightly until she opens it.

“Read it.”

“Come on…” Hyeji trails, clasping the phone in her hands. “I know it’s been tough, but I don’t need you hiding away.”

“I’m scared! This guy has nothing to do with me!” She screeches, slapping her hand on her shoulder only to have Hyeji looking at her. With that softness that characterizes her under all her strength.

“Alright…” Hyeji whispers, soon after reading out loud. “Hey, it’s Zach Chwe. I’m sorry that my comments involved us in a mess bigger than what you already had going on and my team and I want to make mends on the issue I just created. Do you mind talking about it, in person or with my PR team getting in contact with you? Sorry for the inconvenience once again.”

Hyeji takes in a deep breath before tossing herself onto the half-done bed.

“We’re talking about it in person.”

“…Uh, we’re not.” She finalizes, trying to snatch her phone back but Hyeji isn’t relenting. Though, she’s not as rude as one would imagine, she still consenting by looking her way and expecting her to change her mind. “Hyeji, I don’t want to see anyone right now. Jay’s blowing everything out of proportion—”

“Reason as to why you shouldn’t hide. Zach Chwe can be a great person to have on your side right now. The internet loves him, and now they’re not as cruel. You have to see the comments, people are torn just because he is involved.”

That makes her ponder, inspecting every portion of Hyeji’s face to find some fun or joke in her features, but she’s full-on serious. Not a drop of insecurity in those quirked eyebrows. She sighs deeply, taking the phone in her hands and seeing the sign that reads ‘you follow each other’. Why is it that people naturally gravitate towards what a man can say or not, even when she has been expecting to be trusted by anyone online and no one seemed to be by her side?

No one but him and a few people. Even the friends that she had collaborated with several times had taken his side.

Hence, she starts typing, not caring about the consequences of fueling the fire a little bit more, because she’s already getting burned, but she won’t relent without a fight.

“I’m down with meeting up so we can sort out how we will go on about this. You select the place and the time. Thank you for getting in contact, by the way!”

Hyeji places a kiss on top of her head, squishing her slim cheek against her scalp.

“We will get past this, love. I swear we will.”

She doesn’t think this unreasonable love war is anywhere near over, however.

“I sure hope we will.”

Hansol thinks making ramen is an art form. He does it when he’s nervous instead of nibbling on his bottom lip or tugging his black beanie down his ears for the umpteenth time. Only he would think it was a great idea to meet with one of his favorite social media creators on a fucking convenience store, but he feels protected by the quietness and the sweet buzzing of the microwave as he wishes upon a start that the stacks of cheese that he poured on his flaming hot noodles becomes a puddle at the bottom that relishes its exquisiteness.

So, maybe, he’s a bit nervous. Reason as to why he had lost his grip a bit when pouring the cheese on the ramen basket.

It passes him how she has been able to spend weeks receiving the messages she does, but the moment he posted that video, the narrative took another turn. Hell, he even thinks he has seen some edited videos of the two of them as a supposed ‘couple’. The song has been released, heard by thousands, even more news coming up about them and he’s…surprised. About the sheltering that came from his pseudonym and how the world is torn. Now, Jay shines as a real villain and people ponder if leaving him for Hansol was the right choice.

How in the hell he got in this situation is misunderstood by him?

However, he rubs on his eye after grabbing the ramen noodles and plopping them on the nearest table, he hears the bells by the door ringing, the worker too occupied in organizing the strawberry milks to even care about her, but he does. None of her pictures online would ever compare to how she looks in real life. With a gray turtleneck for the weather, face ridden of any makeup, sweater half-tucked into her pants and yet, as her sunglasses rest on the brim of her head, she looks like a whole…dream.

She reminds him of the warmth that comes from a gust of breath on top of freezing hands when winter drops around. They are just barely reaching fall, but the weather has fallen significantly. She stands in front of him, looking away from her phone before a small smile reaches the corner of her eyes, not adding a small ‘hi’ as he does with a wave of his hand, but something to the air between them nonetheless.

“You look different when you’re not mumbling ‘bitch’ into the camera.”

Breaking the ice, warming the air, significant matters that only she can do and does in the brink of a second. Hansol plops the two bowls of ramen on the table, watching as she scrunches her nose at the cheese to stir it within the mixture, but he tries not to think too much about his decision. Maybe, she’s just not fond of cheese.

“I take that as a good thing. I don’t call anyone ‘bitch’ unless I get a really good check out of it.” Hansol jokes around, soon after widening his eyes when she quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of her mouth barely lifting in a smirk. “Not that I’d call you anything of the like. Gosh, I’m being stupid. Uh…hi, I’m Hansol.”

“You’ve already said hi.” She prompts, picking up some of the noodles and unlike him, who has already burned the bridge of his mouth, she twirls them on the chopsticks, blows on them and munches on the cheesy treat. “But I didn’t know you were called Hansol. I would’ve sworn on my life that your real name was Zach.”

He shakes his head. “I want my real life nicely divided from who I am as a person online. Not that I am much different, but Hansol’s the name that I have on my ID and that I use for personal matters, so I don’t want to mix the two.” He shrugs his shoulders soon after, saying her name and earning a nod from her. “Okay, so, uh…to the matter at hand, right?”

“Straight to the point.” She clears her throat, giving him a smile before reaching for the diet soda Hansol had brought. “So, half the internet thinks we are dating…and that you’re that supposed side guy that I had while dating Jay.”

He shouldn’t ask. Shit, this is Jeonghan speaking in his brain, telling him to fucking ask, but he’s curious. He heard the nonsensical beat that Jay released in the form of a diss track that now has fifteen million views, so… “Did you really cheat on him or is he taking everything out of context?”

She spreads her hands across her chest, defending herself. “Here’s the thing, I am a woman. Me breaking up with a guy just because I was unhappy in a relationship directly has to mean I cheated on him. For starters, I didn’t. I liked Jay even after the break-up, obviously until the moment he decided to blow everything out of proportion.” She explains, sighing deeply after. “I didn’t, for instance. I’m sorry that you got involved.”

“No, I am the one that should be sorry.” Hansol shakes his head, rubbing his eyebrow as if something was bothering him. “It’s just—No, I’m sorry but I don’t regret it. I had to talk about it. Part of it was because obviously, it’s a trending topic, but also because…no one deserves to get the hate you’re getting right now.”

She remains silent, playing with the straw in between strawberry lips. Not an ounce of makeup and yet, the inside looks as if they were bitten to utter perfection. Hansol’s embarrassed that he has liked every picture of hers on social media ever since they started following each other.

Things that the public had sadly taken account of and had completely used against them to prove a supposed relationship.

“I don’t regret it either. That you did that, I mean.” She counterparts. “Sure, I shouldn’t be thinking about revenge, but Jay has been so distraught and the public has turned against him, while also not being on my side. They are just on your side.” With a mellowness that, somehow, he thinks should never belong to her, for the twist of her lips on a downwards motion is a terrible contrast to the smile he saw earlier. “Reason as to why my friend got in contact with one of the people from your team. I don’t have a team myself—”

“I’m surprised I even have a team, so I don’t judge you.” Hansol’s eyes twinkle, remembering the words he had shared with Seungcheol earlier. After all, he’s the manager and the one—technically, for Hansol still has his input—in charge of what is posted on his channel or not. “Seungcheol, my manager, talked to me about what your friend and mine talked about.”

Seungcheol was not that happy about the exposure that Hansol got, but after a while, Jeonghan weighted the options and became a mastermind for what the internet was aiming to see. They wanted to learn the other side of the story, just because it would be told by one of the most liked characters in YouTube as of now. Zach Chwe, venturing into the world of a person that no one would have ever thought he’d be compatible with. To break all the rumors with a show, a mini web-series for the world to gnaw at while both teams earned money.

“For the record, I know it’s a difficult thing to think about. I wasn’t in for it at first.” Hansol explains, and he’s not sure he’s ready to have a different light casted on his channel, but Jeonghan was clear to say that he wasn’t intending on a dating show or a couple’s channel. Instead, he wanted something…vague. “They just want us to work on a challenge mini-series. We’d do stuff like go to haunted houses or anything of the like. To make people wonder if we really did date or we were just in it for the show. They’d give us views, hoping to find something or any clues, and we’d leave with a good paycheck and a big question mark after what we were.”

She continues eating, pondering with fluttering eyelashes and a sigh that gets trapped on her throat. “Yeah…I’m okay with it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” She responds, and Hansol thinks the deal is almost over, but she continues: “You’ll have to keep in mind that while there may be a huge wave of people loving our series together, you might also get a lot of hate. Jay did a great job at—”

“I don’t care.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll come to learn I don’t care about a lot of stuff. Hate? I don’t care.” Hansol explains, giving her a soft smile. “A wanking old man can tell me I’m the worst YouTuber he has ever seen, and I won’t take it to heart. I’m not a plate to be enjoyed by all.”

“Whoa…” She whispers, plucking a lot of noodles up to show it to him. “Not only are you the antonym of a lactose intolerant person, but you’re also awfully wise.”

“You’re welcome for the visit to the bathroom later.” Hansol comments, earning well-heard laughter by her. She tosses her head back and the laugh comes out in spurts. Odd and yet, cute.

“I’ll have to get used to those comments, Z—Hansol.”

“We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole season to plan, after all.”

WE VISITED A HAUNTED HOSPITAL? | EP. 1 S1 | ZACH CHWE

She’d kill Hansol for thinking of visiting a haunted hospital as the first topic of their new show, but she’s too scared to actually want to murder him right now. What if he came back as one of those ghosts who were supposedly here? She can’t risk it.

Drops of petrichor build on forgotten walls, where once were supposedly patients that needed help but were abandoned to a beckoning fire. Hansol said on the way here that he truly doubted the events happened. If the hospital was burned down to its core, why was it still standing and why were tickets sold for people to go through it like tourists in Sydney? She doesn’t have a clue. All that she knows is that they were placed on opposite ends of the hospital, bound to meet through clues, but she hasn’t been able to move from her position under a table.

She was aware that Hansol’s team and hers, which only includes Hyejin, had insisted on having jump-scares all around. One of those jump-scares could be Jeonghan in a clown uniform, but the moment she saw it, the moment she sprinted away. Now, she has been seated there for more than thirty minutes, ignoring her next mission and the door in front of her, with a beating heart and her knees pressed to her chest.

Great, she’s about to ruin their first episode.

Beheld with destiny, she thinks she’s about to shit her pants the moment she hears that old, wooden door creak under the weight of someone entering. Caught, she’s imagined to be, unable to discern between the group of people there to add spice to the video and the actual ghosts that are supposedly in this hospital. However, the first thing she sees are a pair of converses in light green and soon after, someone is kneeling in front of her.

Hansol’s long hair is clouded by a hoodie so thick his earlobes are red, or so she thinks that’s the reason, because his hand pats on the expanded leg of her jeans. Bell jeans were in once again, and she had opted to have them on her outfit. However, Hansol’s high cheekbones lift in a smile when he counterparts:

“If you’re really trying to hide from ghosts, having half of your leg out from underneath the table is not the way to go.” Hansol spares a look at the corner of the room, perhaps pinpointing where the camera is, before she shakes her head at him. She’s still a little shaken, letting out in a trembling tone what must be the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard.

“What if this place is actually haunted?”

“I don’t know percentages, but I am sure someone has died in every possible place on earth. Here, if it’s haunted, or anywhere.” Hansol drags himself under the table, sitting down next to her and taking up the same position she has, though he presses his cheek to the upper portion of his knees. “So, as a matter of fact, every place should be haunted.”

“You’re not helping.” She adds, turning her face to look at him and my God, is Chwe Hansol actually very handsome. He’s different from Jay, with higher cheeks, rounded eyebrows, and a color that resembles honey on tea in his irises. She should look away, not feed into the idea that people have of them being together, but they were meant to act as natural as possible for this show, and looking away has never been more difficult.

“…Said my mom as I helped with the dishes, and my sister after I met her first boyfriend. Helping is not really my biggest forte, but I try.” Hansol shows a full row of teeth when he smiles, like he does it without a care in this world. He probably does. Something about Hansol tells her that he doesn’t really care what people think of him. “But I found you, so I think that’s us winning the game, isn’t it?”

“Is this a park ride for you or something? You’re all smiley and shit.” She tells him, mimicking his smile though hers is a bit more crooked, like she’s trying to push it away so it doesn’t reach him as the most dumbfounded, surprised expression.

“I like this place.”

She feigns a ringing cellphone with a purr of her lips, folding her hand to mimic a phone only to be caught in between his digits, pressed to his ear as if he’s picking it up.

“Yes, hello?” He asks, fluttering eyelashes in between sweetened laughter. One would think that someone like Chwe Hansol was a punch of pink lemonade, but knowing he’s more like a very sweetened soda is a new occurrence.

“It’s your psychologist. He’s asking for another appointment.”

Hansol chuckles at her words, putting down her hand and yet, leaving her with a tingle that awakens in the pit of her stomach and blossoms like butterfly wings across her chest, filling her in with a breath so profound that every single one of her ribs expands with glee.

“They should.” With that, he stands up,extending a slim hand that wavers its fingers for her to grab. Once she does, she’s up her feet, chest to chest with a man who looks at her with pink lips closed together, hiding the row of teeth that she had grown so fond of in just minutes, for how beautiful and calming his smile could be. “I think we should get out and get to the exit—”

What they don’t expect is for the door to bang open, irrupting on their fort and creating a tense atmosphere when they come face to face with a clown, much of the like of what It could look like. And while Hansol laughs from the moment he sees it, she doesn’t. A shout trips from the back of her throat, much like herself, as she jumps onto Hansol’s back and feels his hands contracting against her thighs, catching her just in time. Her eyes, hidden by his neck, are barely touched by the long hairs on his nape that don’t get to be trapped in his beanie, and when she mumbles for them to leave, Hansol starts sprinting like his life depends on it.

Never does he stop laughing, though, as whoever is dressed on the clown outfit follows after them. He’s secure, for some reason, even when they don’t know each other very well, something about Hansol makes her feel as though she is protected. Sheltered from a world that had always been so tough, but with him is just a tiny bit more complex. And for Hansol, that’s okay.

Something tells her that Hansol doesn’t push himself to understand the majority of things. The reason why the world goes around the sun, or why so many people choose heartbreak. He knows he’s a particle, a mere second in a clock, a reason to laugh or a momentum to flee. While she lives through memories, Hansol relishes on breaths. On moments that are here and now, enjoyable and yet, somehow dreamy in the way that they go by so fast.

She doesn’t know him much, but when they reach the exit and the sun bathes them through peaks in between gray clouds, he is still holding her. Even when Seungcheol points Hansol’s camera at them and he’s talking, he still doesn’t let go of her. She hears a faint joke, a reason to part from his neck, but lord does she wish she would not have looked away.

For his face is too close and that mole on his temple is right there, valuable enough to catch her attention.

So, she drops herself to the floor, falling on her knees and raising her hands in the air before shouting to the camera:

“Good fucking Lord, we made it!”

And Hansol laughs, like he does in these situations, but how she wishes that laugh would not feel precisely like home should feel like.

Thirteen million views and just the third episode of the series has been posted. Now, that is breaking records.

She would have never believed the world would become a big number for her. Flop or not valued by the amount of people seeing you; regardless of interest or not. She seeks for that validation—much more after the break-up—. From people who don’t really know her, but love to give conspiracies about how Hansol and she met. They say they are together, and they don’t really deny it. The closer they get through episodes, the more people seem interested in it, and while she’s in the thrive for more—fame, success, whatever the fuck it is that is sedating her, Hansol stays…the same.

He invited her over to his place. So unorganized, just like his thoughts. He leaves his coats hanging on his poor couch, picking them up per demand, with splashes of coffee on the coffee table from early this morning still forgotten. Tonight, on this Saturday night, Hansol has brought soju with himself, licking off the remaining bits of his black bean noodles from his chopsticks. She still has a bit left on her place, but she has opted to sit with her head hanging from the sofa, looking at him from upside down, maybe a bit boozed because of the alcohol he had prepositioned for ‘idea organization’.

“What if we ate noodles on a rollercoaster?” They have planned up to episode ten. The end of the season, after all. But people have been asking for another season, and while it’s not confirmed, a company had ventured into the hardships of wanting to promote them for a second season and that meant giving them ideas on a silver platter in hopes of them liking it enough to support it monetarily.

“You want a POV of us vomiting on a camera. Got it.” She drags, inspecting the way his cheeks turn maroon and how he puts his bottle of soju down, giving her a smile that, if she had to describe, would call it extremely dumb.

“When you put it that way, sounds incredibly hot.”

“Ew, Hansol.” She has gotten used to calling him that name now, a month into their venture and almost four episodes in. Her head starts thumping and with four bottles of soju, she can’t stop thinking. Hansol has almost been like a bubble; he lets her see on the outside and still, protects her in some way. She knows that the death threads are still there, as well as the ongoing rumors with Jay that include her in a love triangle, but with him, recording and a new group of people around them, she has managed to lose herself a bit more. “I can’t think straight at this moment.”

“Probably because you’re losing blood flow.” Hansol drags himself closer to her, never lifting his butt of the ground, twisting her hair in a bun that falls the moment she sits up straight. Not because he told her so, or because she was afraid of losing oxygen in her brain, but rather the reason behind it was that Hansol was a little too close to her. Enough for her to see those beautiful speckles in her eyes.

Yes, so that’s the thing…Hansol is extremely pretty.

Awfully so.

In a drunken state, that’s multiplied by a hundred.

“What if we made a ‘Show Me The Money’ parody?”

Hansol shrugs. “I’d eat you up.”

“You think so?” She slurs, pressing her cheek to the edge of the couch and almost twitching when Hansol reaches for the corner of her joggers, pulling them down where they had bunched at her ankles. That’s when his skin comes in contact with hers, wrapping entirely around that portion of her leg and letting his thumb caress the joint behind it. “Mm, don’t do that.”

“S—Sorry.” And Hansol pulls away at that moment, cheeks even more flushed with the alcohol, eyes widened. “I—I didn’t…”

“It just feels nice.” She tells him in a whisper, dozing off and letting her eyes close as the only thing she can hear in the background is the faint sound of Drake’s latest record and, of course, his calm breathing. “…And I don’t like getting used to it. You don’t know how many times I’ve gotten used to things only for them to hurt me…after…”

It’s the alcohol talking and the sleepiness losing her, because she doesn’t remember what else she had said or why she falls asleep so fast. What she does remember is what she dreams. She sees Jay in dreams, remembering the way his palm fit so snugly around her knee, and how he’d trace the underside of it with how big his hand was. Now, she sees it in third person, in some cramped-up party of the like of those he went to, with his lips spread around another woman’s, doing the same thing he did to her, and somehow breaking apart the little threads left in her heart. Because that’s what men have always done to her—hurt her until she couldn’t recognize herself.

She awakens with sweat pooling at her neckline and breaths unarranged in a manner that has her clasping the first thing she feels. Hansol has turned down the lights, his back pressed to the edge of the couch, head lulled back in a way that will probably have him aching in the morning. His brown hair spreads on top of his forehead like vices, eyelashes straight and long, jaw squared yet somehow relaxed as his lips part. He’s snoring softly, barely audibly, laying there like he wouldn’t move even if the world ended.

So, she drags her hand across his forearm, feeling every bump and mountain of slim muscle until she reaches his knuckles and touches them, shaking his hand in hopes of getting him to open his eyes.

He doesn’t, but he does hum at the mention of his name.

“Hansol…I had a nightmare.” She has them often. Each time, she looks into the shadows of the night hoping for the real monsters to appear. Not the ones that make their guest appearance in horror movies, but the ones that actually hurt her. People that tarnished her heart in ways that now has it stopping from time to time. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but could…could you please hold me? When I’m held, I can fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rasps out, dragging himself towards the couch as she makes him some space. He doesn’t talk about his room or taking up the bed, because he’s probably too sleepy to even care, when he places an arm under her head and lets him square a leg in between his just to make room for the two.

“I’m sorry for getting so close.”

He drags her until her face rests on his collarbone, humming what she can imagine is a ‘no’. “You’re not doing it for anything bad. It’s okay.” He whispers. “Is this tight enough?”

She looks up at him, eyes still closed. So naturally peaceful and yet, somehow blaring war noises inside her head. Ready to flee away just in case her stomach drops to the ground at the mere sight of him. “It’s perfect.”

Hansol shouldn’t feel perfect. Not if season two is ever going to happen.

Usually, the one with the cruel ideas is Jeonghan. Hyejin has finally met up to that standard. Her friend, not his, and that’s surprising. Hansol has to give her some props for the idea of the ninth episode.

‘Never Have I Ever’. He doesn’t think he has played the game since that one moment he joined college. Only recently did he get his degree, and the engineering degree normally doesn’t get invited to the kind of parties that have drinking games, but Hansol was friends with a bunch of people who would take any kind of game as a reason to drink. This one doesn’t include drinking, but it’s either eating something really nasty, laid in front of them on a picnic cloth—there are testicles in there, as far as he knows—or answering.

Hansol should be concentrated on making her eat the five meals that are meant to be eaten by her, but he is tranced by her. Has been since two weeks ago, when he decided that sharing a couch with her was a good idea. Not only did he have to walk away before she noticed that he had accidentally wrapped a hand around her waist while asleep, but he also had to fight off the thoughts that ventured into his head. He didn’t want to be the rebound, but that’s precisely what he would be if he tried to get with her. If he played the cards he does sometimes, when life is a little simpler, of rubbing the back of his neck and buying someone’s favorite Pokémon cards.

It doesn’t help that she has decided to look absolutely gorgeous while they sat on a bench, in a secluded park that Seungcheol had found fitting for filming. Roses scatter around them in the same color of red that splashes on her dress. A loving heart neckline that has him looking down and—fuck, Hansol, don’t be stupid. She’s way out of your league—

“Never have I ever…” She drags her voice while reaching into the hat that was placed nearby for them. He looks at the shape of her mouth, the length of her eyeliner and he wants to punch himself for a second. For staring with that intent, even with cameras around them. For feeling a bit protected in front of them just because everyone thinks they are dating. Or so. “Eaten or tasted earwax.”

“Do I have the face of a man that has tasted earwax?”

“Yes.” She responds, chuckling at him only to have him scrunching up his nose. He looks down at the plate that is served in front of him, this round’s beverage for anyone to enjoy. “Hansol, don’t tell me you have.”

“I’m not sure, but I was a weird kid! May have!” He tells her, picking up his chopsticks and biting into the testicles that he had repulsed from the moment the game started. She throws her head back, laughing like the child in her had awakened at his response, before she’s shaking her head and tossing the card to the side.

“You’re so nasty.”

“Tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Just because I am sure I did it as a kid as well, I’ll help you out with those testicles.” She picks up the chopsticks from his hands, giving it the slightest of bites before sticking out her tongue and dropping it to the ground. “Gross! Jeonghan, where the fuck did you find this stuff?”

“It was Cheol!”

The game continues, with the two of them a point away from either losing or winning. She has her legs spread in front of her, crossed by the ankles, waiting for him to read the card that he’s just opening when his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Oh, this wasn’t Seungcheol. This has Hyejin’s name written all over it. He knows it because she has been wriggling her eyebrows whenever he makes his way past her, opting to tease him about the ‘obvious crush’ he has on her best friend.

“Never have I ever liked the person across from me.”

Hansol doesn’t move, and he should be drinking the broccoli lemonade that the team prepared, but she moves with a little more precision, as if her anatomy was made to act in cue. His heart stops when she grabs the glass and brings it up to those lips that had been burgundy red at the start of the recording to drink. She closes her eyes, tosses her head back, and gags at the taste, but Hansol is far too lost.

…She had liked him? Then? Now? When?

“Confessions, confessions. Always coming up from these videos.” She is more of a natural in front of the camera, taking his hand and bringing it up in the air as per a champion from a boxing fight. She has won him over, if only if she knew. “We’ve got ourselves a winner. Give a round of applause for Zach Chwe, everyone!”

Hansol can’t even smile. He’s dumbfounded, staring at her profile and seeing her grin in such an easy going way. Though, the moment they say their goodbyes from the video, she pulls away from him, clearing her throat and looking at him as if she expects an answer. One that never comes and leaves him just to stand up, excuse himself out of the park and lock himself in the nearest bathroom.

Being the rebound is not what he wants, but God, would he be lying to himself if he didn’t accept he has liked her for longer than he’d want to admit.

Two months pass by. The first season becomes a success and still, not a word has been uttered about that episode. The subscribers’ favorite episode, but the forgotten episode for those who were involved.

No one asks questions when they come together for VidCon. It feels natural, actually. She doesn’t think she would have been able to just go on her own anymore. As some kind of way the world had planned it, Hansol feels like her counterpart in whatever this is right now. Friendship, work, whatever they have garnered together that people seem to love enough to have a panel for them, where they speak to fans and take pictures together. She notices then that she’s not the only person awestruck by Hansol’s beauty, even when that’s obvious at this point. He looks like a daydream in his black t-shirt, rounded glasses and skinny jeans, smiling in pictures and even joking around with fans.

Sometimes, she just looks at him from the side and blames him for it. For letting things slide so smoothly in between the two after that forbidden episode. He never said a word, neither did he try to clear her head with a kiss to her lips or even a strict ‘no’ that would have her moving on. It’s his fault for being likeable; for giving her a necklace with her initial as a celebration when their first season became a success. For him to receive her with a bowl of noodles for every recording they had each week. For him to tag her on stupid memes on Twitter, not giving a care what anyone could say.

The venue is packed and Hansol gets a little too lost on conversations with a fan that is talking about his beginnings as a gamer—that wasn’t really good to start with—when she feels someone tapping her on the shoulder. Her hips move from the edge of their table, where an enormous poster of the publicity image for the first season of their show spreads in the background, to turn around and respond to the subscriber that was trying to get her attention. Nonetheless, like a clashing thunder in a summer day, Jay stands there looking like the oddest thing she has seen in the past three months.

Because she’s not used to him anymore. Neither has she felt like she was truly comfortable with the idea of him. He’s a few heads taller than her, with his black hair pushed back and the sleeves of his shirt dragged up to showcase his tattoos. He’s smiling when he greets her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her briefly before he pulls away. They are lucky that is not peak hour and most people have scattered to look at the music presentation that was taking place.

“Jay?” She questions, only to have him smiling proudly, like he would do whenever he got recognized in public.

“The one and only. I had to pass by when I heard you were making it to this year’s convention.” His dark brown eyes splay across the poster behind them, trailing after every detail of the image of Hansol wrapping an arm around her shoulder, both smiling at the camera as they spread their hands in peace signs, smiling gleefully. “Haven’t watched a season of the show, but I might start. It’s fucking everywhere.”

She should not talk to him, but she scoffs at his words, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest to portray just how closed she is to him, but she doesn’t miss her sarcastic smile. Not an ounce of hate is within her chest anymore, but she recalls the wounds he opened just to make bigger ones. “…Mhm, it’s not the type of show you’d watch. Too much of a big brainer.”

“Oh, come on, you know I’m smarter than I look.”

For the way he plotted the entire internet against her, she knows for a fact Jay could very much be a lawyer or an astronaut if he wanted to. Misspells or not. “I’m certain. I’ve never doubted you’re a cunning, smart little shit.”

“I like that. Might make it my new motto.” Before Jay could venture into more of a conversation, her waist is grounded by a pair of thin arms wrapping around them. Soft skin connecting with her through the fabric of her pink hoodie has her looking back to see that Hansol is hugging her from behind, hiding his hands on the pockets of her hoodie and pressing his chin to her shoulder before whispering into her ear.

“We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Like organizing our things at the hotel and sign some posters for tomorrow…” He never rushes with those things, but at the presence of Jay, Hansol’s a bit more masculine and selfish with time. When she tries to answer him, far too lost in the beauty of him now that he has pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, pulling the strands of his hair back, his golden eyes have settled on Jay, not even sparing him a grin out of courtesy. “I’ll have to snatch her away from you.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Jay adds, aiming to hurt and taint, but Hansol doesn’t let him. Instead, he pulls her by the strings of her hoodie, interlocking their hands together before speaking closely to her face.

“So, are we going?”

It’s not a doubt that she says ‘yes’. After all, if her heart had grown a bond for Hansol without him touching her that way, having a glimpse of what it could be like to be with him has her brain going feverish.

Hansol is certain about many things. That he likes the color green. He loves tie dye hoodies. That he would die in a beanie if he could. He enjoys weird scary shows, and he would marathon the entirety of Scream in a minute. He is also certain that he doesn’t want to talk to her, as they sit across from each other in his hotel room. Not just because, but for the matter that she was talking to the ex that had done anything in his willpower to push her to be absolutely nothing.

He sits on a brown leather couch, working diligently on signing posters while she has opted not to do so. For the past ten minutes, she has ventured into all the possible conversation topics in order to get him to look up, even smile, but while Hansol likes living his life in tranquility, he also has his angered moments. His blood felt like it had rushed to his knuckles from how tight he was holding them closed when he saw Jay. He couldn’t bear but admit to himself that, while he had opted not to think about her in that light, the idea of her going back to Jay and not with him infuriated him. Sure, she wasn’t his—neither was she anybody’s, for that matter—but if someone had to have her as the person by their side, it had to be him. Right?

Anyone but fucking Jay Lee.

But preferably him.

Yet, she knows how to get the world to look at her with eyes that had been rose-colored by her voice and eyes alone. After ten minutes, she knows that he won’t talk to her and when the beads of silence surround the cream-colored room, he almost imagines that she has left. Only that he gets to see her jean-cladded thighs standing in front of his knees, his eyes darting to her face for a fraction of a second until he sees her. The closeness, the little smile that splays in the corner of her mouth, and that wave to her eyebrows that tells him that she’s a bit confused, amused, but also a tad annoyed.

“Why are you angry at me? I haven’t done anything to get the silent treatment.” God, she’s one of the smartest women he has met. With the way she can think of matters in the spot and make a drawing on the screen the most interesting thing in the world. He knows her commentaries on movies are the most precise, intelligent words that could be said, and yet, he wishes she could wake up and realize that he has been here, all along, for three months and even a bit more, liking her like a complete fool. “Hansol, you either talk to me or you talk to me. I’m not giving you another option.”

“That man was…okay, I’ll talk to you.” Hansol stops himself when he hears just how mortified he sounds when he starts talking, putting the poster he was signing to the side, laying on the table next to him with the other pile of posters. Soon after, he’s spreading his hands on the armrest, leaning back on the couch. “Jay has done nothing but make your life an absolute hell and there you go, just being nice to him, letting him hug you and talk to you—”

“Hold up,” She interrupts him, spreading a hand on her waist. “If I just ignore him or treat him like shit, I’m giving him even more of a reason to talk. I’ll be the first to admit to say that the stuff Jay put me through wounded me in ways that will take more than a few months to work through, but I also don’t want to give him the benefit of being aware of how much he hurt me.”

Hansol can understand that, but he also knows what men like Jay think. He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning through half-parted lips. “He probably thinks he still has you on the palm of his hand.”

“He doesn’t.” She shrugs. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to see you with him. That is the problem.” Hansol says, standing up and staring at her, face-to-face. “I know you won’t go back to him but it makes me angry to think you ever thought of being with him. Not only doesn’t he match up with you on looks, but he never deserved you. You could put him on a pan and drop an entire bag of salt on him and Jay Lee would still be flavorless. The biggest mistake you could ever make, and the thought alone of him wanting to be with you—”

“I don’t want to be with him.”

“Yes, but…” You also don’t want to be with me, he completes for himself. Sure, she had once said she liked him, but what reassures him that it wasn’t just for the camera?

“You’re making a big deal out of it!”

“I fucking know!” He exclaims, widening his eyes.

“Then?”

“I will make everything that happens to you a big deal because I care for you. I’ve liked you for God-knows how long. Sorry for getting jealous, but I don’t regret it one—”

She interrupts him before he could say anything else, with her lips spreading across his, savoring the tremor of his mouth before he opens it to the granting touch of her tongue. His bottom lip fits between hers as if they were made for her, her hands gravitating to his waist and pulling him closer, though the fact that she was the one to make the first move did not stop Hansol from adding his own motions. His hands spread on the back of her neck, thumbs coming in contact on the column of her throat and dragging a sweet stripe down, rising goosebumps all over her skin. Hansol tilts his head to the side, a cloud of humidity building from the breath he lets out before kissing her lazily, albeit strongly, like he knows he doesn’t have to do much to do it right.

She would like to punch him, ask him why he never did anything when she confessed to liking him in that video, but Hansol has seated back on the chair, hands landing on her hips as he continues to kiss her, and her thighs part to settle comfortably on his lap. When she pulls away from him, lips tainted in that romantic shade of pink that he leaves everywhere he goes, she traces the outline of his mouth with a peck before she goes down to his neck, hiding in there for a second.

“You had me guessing for so long, Hansol. That’s what assholes do.”

Hansol’s hands rub at her hips, one of the portions she’s more insecure about, but with him it just feels right. “I don’t want to be your rebound.” He tells her, grabbing her by her chin before pushing their lips together once again. He keeps his eyes closed when he speaks against her mouth, just minutes after biting on her bottom lip. “Please, don’t let me be a rebound. If I am, stop me now.”

She’d be crazy to stop him. Not when his mouth looks like a rose petal and her heart feels the more at ease she has felt in a while. Sure, this is always the start of every romance. She knows that men feel comfortable before they destroy her heart even worse than the last time, but something tells her that this is not the case with Hansol. She closes her eyes, venturing into the shape of his mouth to trace it like the map she should have followed a long time ago.

For now, she’ll get lost in him, in the way he makes her feel like she’s the newest star in the sky and he’s drawing it himself. Calling her something that goes unnamed for now.

The word ‘for now’ is so funny. It prolongs in time, so much that three months turn into six, and then, an entire year.

She had said that Hansol’s idea was a ‘for now’. That him, as a person, was temporary as it gets, but the clock was making fun of her as she rushes to his car, holding onto the coldest coffee she could get at this hour of the morning. Some people feel comfortable, not because they are colored certain way or how they make you feel, but what you two make together. Blue and green are colors on their own, but together they make something different. The creation of new matters is what makes the world a little bit more interesting.

Hansol doesn’t enjoy mornings, not after a short night of sleep, and that may be her fault, but with the way he smiles at her when she opens the car’s door, she’s sure he has forgiven her. For how great they felt last night, she’s sure that there were no grudges held. A camera is pointed her way, though she knows that the second season of their show is still being published on her channel and, no way in hell, he would ever post the videos he takes of her. Little vlogs to remember what it was like here, now, forever. God, forever sounds amazing with Hansol.

“Here we have a whole coffee addict, making her way to my sick Porsche.”

“It’s a Toyota, Hansol. Sit the fuck down.” She completes, entering the car and pushing her hair over her shoulder, leaning over the seat to let him taste the coffee. That makes the camera a little too close to her face, laughing and pushing it to the side the slightest. “I’m sure I don’t look that good in that angle.”

“You don’t, but real love will make me say you do.” He completes, sipping a few more times into her coffee before giving it back to her. He has the hood of his shirt all the way over his dark hair, turning off the camera and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he starts the car.

Talking about their relationship in public was forbidden, for she doesn’t want to blur the line in between the faux relationship and what became real. In fact, it happened with its bumps along the road. She can’t say that everything has been easy, that sometimes her nightmares don’t wake her up with the idea of Hansol leaving one day, or not precisely leaving her, but stomping on her heart before he flees away, but that idea alone is pushed away with a served kiss and a few words that save her from doubting. Hansol is not much of a talker and yet, when he opens those lips of his, he always seems to say the right thing.

So, while the subscribers have never gotten a real video of them admitting to their relationship, it’s almost public notice. She sips on her drink, looking at his profile and the tranquility of him before asking.

“So, I saw a Tweet not too long ago. As I was waiting for coffee, actually.”

“From who?” His voice grows serious, expecting to hear anything from Jay or anyone else on the internet, but she calms him down by interlocking their fingers together, tracing the small promise ring on his finger with her thumb.

“From a subscriber that wanted to point out our supposed beginnings.” She likes looking at those conspiracies from time to time. They are so ridiculous that she can’t help but be amused by how close and obsessed people can get from someone they saw on the internet. Well, as long as it’s kept like a good momentum on someone’s life, and they know not to blur the line, she’s sure it’s okay. “The first picture you liked of me was on April 18th, three years ago. It was a picture of me on my desk, looking down at my I-Pad as I drew, working on my next video.”

Hansol twists his head to the side, laughing to himself a bit before nodding. “I remember that picture.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He looks at her for a fraction of a second before bringing their interlocked hands up, giving it a soft kiss. “Your hair was shorter then. Way shorter. I thought you were pretty.”

“Sometimes, I wish I had met you earlier.”

“Huh, earlier wasn’t our time, I guess.” Hansol responds, letting go of her hand to grab her coffee.

Holding her breath, she looks at his sleepy profile. At him as a person. It has been so long and yet, the words don’t weight on her mouth when she opts to mumble it for the first time:

“I love you, Hansol.”

His eyes twinkle when she says those words, spreading a smile into his face that show all his teeth before he gnaws at his bottom lip.

“I love you, too.”

[evilestgamergirl]

as soon as i saw this hair set by @daylifesims i knew i had to do my own spin on the winx club. all hairs can be found here.

aisha: top thong skirt arm warmers shoes

musa: headphones top thong pants shoes

tecna: top acc top boxers skirt shoes

stella: top acc top skirt shoes

flora: top skirt tights shoes

bloom: top acc top skirt tights shoes

i couldn't find tecna's acc top or flora's tights anywhere, so if you know where to find them pls lmk! i know flora's tights are by @aharris00britney and @ayoshi but i'm not sure what set they're part of.

you can watch my tiktok here!

thank you to all cc creators!! <3 @daylifesims @serenity-cc @helgatisha @greenllamas @charonlee @simpliciaty-cc @jius-sims @jellymoo @babyetears @faerunsims @tina-sims

[ncteez]

from now on, before you ask a writer to do a part two of something, i want you to ask yourself:

did you reblog the original fic?

did you follow them?

did you tell them why you want a part two or leave feedback outside of “PART TWO PLS”?

did you read their rules?

are their requests even open?

if you didn’t do any of those five things, learn to do them before expecting more specific content from strangers online.

[4xiaojun-deactivated20250731]

DEAR DIARY, I HATE JUNGWON !

SUMMARY | you hate jungwon- like a lot. everyone at your school knows it at this point, so why is it the minute you see him shed a tear, you feel bad? with this new found guilt, you're able to see new sides of jungwon that your anger blinded you from before. it doesn't take you long to realise that you don't hate these new sides of him as much as you'd like to.

PAIRING | jungwon x fem!reader

WC | 18.2k

WARNINGS | profanity, violence, vandalism, mentions of alcohol & sex

FEATURING | second lead sunghoon, heeseung is mentioned & ITZY

TAGLIST | unofficial taglist i just need the hype pls @tyunni @geombyu @yjwfav @junityy @jaeyunverse @ijhyo @equalheart @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @fairybinie

A/N | before u come at me for plagairising I AM HYUKAAS OKAY THIS IS MY FIC AHAHA IT'S A REPOST initially i was going to rewrite this but u all loved the og version so i'm going to give u the og version i literally have not changed a word. u guys gave this a lot of love on my old acc so i hope u enjoy :)

-

you: wtf

jung_1: ?

you: chemistry club??? really?

jung_1: i wanted the piano club

you: so what? me going isn't going to stop u

jung_1: u think i wanna see your face every day after school? 

class is enough smh

you: so u signed me up for chem?

jung_1: it was the only one left lol

you: stfu

jung_1: k lol

From what you can remember, Jungwon hasn't always been like this. You've tried to sit down and pinpoint a date back to when this all started, but the best you could come up with was when he blew out your candle at your eleventh birthday party. That was the first and last time you had ever invited him over to your house.

The two of you are neighbours, and yet you've never had a single decent conversation with the guy in your entire life. Ever since the two of you were little, Jungwon always found a way to laugh at you, talk shit about you or do something to purposely annoy you. Your friends always warned you not to do anything back, that he was only doing it to draw out a reaction, but it was so hard not to whenever you saw his stupid face. The fact that he's so popular in school doesn't help either. Whenever you complain about him to anyone, you're always met with the same thing: "But he's so nice to me." "He's not like that with me." "You must have done something to upset him, Jungwon is the sweetest."

Yeah, sweetest pain in your ass. There is literally nothing about him that you like. It's clear to everyone that you hate Jungwon. 

-

Sitting on your chair, you rest your chin on your palm as you stare at the whiteboard. You're fuming, to say the very least. Written on the board are everyone's names under the club they'd be joining as soon as the bell rings. Yours is supposed to be under piano club but instead it's under chemistry with only one other person who signed up. You barely even know who he is.

"Who's Sunghoon?" Your friend, Yuna, whispers.

You recognise the name (being in the same school for 3 years, it would be kind of rude not to) but you don’t really know who he is. “I think it’s the guy that ice skates.”

"He's so cute," Yuna gawks, "you're lucky you're gonna be alone with him for the rest of the year." 

You scrunch your face at your friend, before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, doing chemistry." Fuck Jungwon, signing you up for a club that you're already failing in class, just so he can go to piano. You purposefully ran to the piano club stand so that you could sign it before him, but that asshole must have rubbed out your name and written his instead. As much as you despise him, you have to admit that was a clever thing to do. 

Yuna slaps you lightly, "Maybe you can get him to tutor you for free. I heard he gets people to pay him ₩75,000 per hour."

"No, I'm pretty sure the point of chemistry club is to have fun. He's probably gonna be a nerd the entire time," you grumble into your palm, already miserable about the hours and hours you're going to have to spend with a science nerd. There must have been dozens of clubs with spaces still available; Jungwon could have picked another music club, a sports club, literature, art, history, debate, politics, or even maths for God's sake. But the boy chose chemistry. He knows that you're failing all three of your sciences, so not only did he remove you from your favourite club, he put you into your worst enemy—second to Jungwon. God, did you want to pull out his stupid black hair right then.

“You’re not going to let him win this one, are you?” Yuna deadpans, probably bored from your endless war with Jungwon. You don’t blame her, if the tables were turned, you’d probably say the same things she does. “Just leave it.” “If you ignore him he’ll stop.” “Be the bigger person.” Blah blah blah. It would be humiliating to let Jungwon get away with anything. You can’t even imagine it, coming into school everyday and hearing him laugh at you as if he has the upper hand. You would never ever let that happen, not even over your dead body.

Brushing your hair out of your face, you chuckle breathlessly. “As if.” There is absolutely no way in hell that you would let Jungwon get away with ruining your after school club for the rest of the year. You had to come up with something big, something that would make him suffer just as much—no, more—for the whole year, too.

-

Sadly, you didn't have enough time to come up with a plan.

"Okay, so why is a fluoride ion bigger than a sodium ion?" 

You groan loudly, whacking your head against the table for what feels like the fiftieth time. You've been in this room for ten minutes with Sunghoon, and he's already managed to make it boring as hell. Optimistic, you came into this room hoping that Sunghoon would come up with some cool science-y project for the two of you to do. Instead, his idea of fun is extra homework. The guy seriously brought question packs for you two to do for a whole hour. 

What a joke.

"Sunghoon, why are you asking me like I know?"

He gives you a judgemental look, and at this point you're too bored to care about how stupid he thinks you are. You should be practising the piano and making keyboard remixes on the iMacs, not memorising the periodic table with a nerd. 

"Come on," he breaks into a nervous giggle, "this is like, the third question. We haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."

No. There's no way he's taking this club seriously. Dramatically, you push back your chair and glare at him. "You know what, I'm going to go get something to drink. You answer some questions while I'm gone, yeah?" You fake smile at him, unable to look at his nerdy face any longer. God, you hate science kids.

Skipping out of the classroom, you make your way to the vending machine. You need a warm drink to calm your stress down but the cafeteria is too far away so a bottle of apple juice should do. Anything that gives you an excuse to stay away from Sunghoon so that you can focus on your plan to get your revenge on–

"Oh, Y/N! What a coincidence!"

There it is, that dreaded, child-like voice you've grown to hate. Turning around, you're met with his half closed eyes and grin so upturned you can see his baby teeth. If you weren't in the middle of paying for your drink you would have slapped that smirk right off his face. Okay, maybe not, but it's really pissing you off. 

"Yeah right, you probably came here to laugh at me." You grumble, fumbling with the vending machine that's choosing not to be on your side today. 

He smiles again, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging like the oh so innocent boy he is. "I just wanted to check up on how you're doing in your new club. I understand, Y/N," he puts a hand on his chest, pouting, "I really do. Chemistry isn't for everyone."

You whip your head at him immediately, causing him to snort into his hand and break into a laughter that echoes in the empty hallway. "Wow, Jungwon, you're so funny. Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you get away with this."

He comes closer and leans his elbow on the machine so that his head is right above yours, his eyes locking right onto you. Every time he gets close, you're reminded of when Yuna tells you to take a good look at him to see what all the girls in your school sees. But all you can see is an arrogant, stuck up piece of shit—his only entertainment being getting on your nerves. You can see why someone would find him attractive. But his personality is so strong that it practically covers all of his charm to you.

"Admit it," he laughs, "you can't beat me this time. This is one of the best things I've done, I'm kinda' proud of this one. I mean, nothing beats the–"

"Shut up, I am going to beat you. As soon as school's over, I'm coming up with something." You scowl, punching the vending machine so that it will let your bottle fall.

Jungwon coos at you, finding this whole situation amusing. "Aw, is it that hard that it's taking up all your brain space?" He asks in a baby voice. "You can't think of a plan better than mine because you're so busy trying to figure out what O stands for?"

Too focused on the stupid machine, you ignore the menacing voice coming from your left. You've smacked it, shaken it, kicked it, you're not really sure what else there is to do.

Jungwon pushes you out of the way and resets your order, making your jaw drop as you see your bottle that was so close to falling go back to its spot. You shove him back, annoyed that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's stronger than you. "Hey, that was–"

Jungwon sighs dramatically, before bringing out his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a credit card.

"Show off." You mumble, crossing your arms as you watch him dial his order.

"The machine clearly doesn't like you." He smirks, as his coke falls immediately.

You try to hold back how shocked you are, and the urge to ask him to order for you. But with the way Jungwon snickers at you, you can tell he already knows. It isn't like he's going to order for you anyway.

And you're right, because here he is, popping open his can and sipping it right in front of you. He's acting like he's in a commercial for the drink, all just to wind you up. But you can't let him win, you'll never let him win. So you stay, and watch him drink until the last drop and walk away slowly. 

Absolute pain in your ass.

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You're starting to get sick of starting all your diary entries with the same thing. Jungwon isn't even here; you're in your room, alone. There's nothing to remind you of him. Yet every night, you sit at your desk and scribble in your diary. And every night, you start off each entry reminding you that you hate him.

You flip through your diary entries of the past few weeks, and they're all starting to blur together. Each entry is almost as similar as the last. It's all the same thing—you hate Jungwon. You see him in the morning of school, your mood changes. You're reminded of him in your chemistry club, you get angry. You walk behind him on the way home from school, the two of you are arguing. 

When the hell is this going to end? 

To be honest, thinking about this is just making you hate him even more. The worst thing about this is that you can't even walk it off like you usually do at school. You're used to pacing the school corridors or the track field whenever he makes you really mad. But outside of school, you always meet him. It's either him, or his annoying and inappropriate older friends, or his evil dog. You'd rather rot in your room than risk having to waste your energy fighting with him, or running away from his dog, or pulling your skirt down from his friends. 

You're trapped. He gets to enjoy his life while you're trapped at home, writing “I hate Jungwon” in your diary every single day. The power this guy holds over you is huge, and you just can't wait to move out to college to finally get rid of him.

Walking down the hallway, you bump into your chemistry partner of the past two weeks. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen this boy outside of the chemistry club, so seeing him now, walking tall, hands in his pockets and a lot of other students around him was quite a shock. You really thought he was nothing more than a nerd. 

As soon as Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he smiles widely and you can’t help the way your heart flutters a little at that. Did Jungwon really make you so angry about chemistry that you never noticed how good looking Sunghoon is? Or are you just that bad at it that you had no time to focus on Sunghoon’s looks? As he walks away from his friends and towards you, you gulp, brushing down your hair and skirt with your palms that are starting to sweat. You see this guy every single evening, what difference is it now? 

“Hi Y/N,” he smiles, one hand sitting attractively in his pocket and another rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” you reply, but your voice comes out as barely a whisper. You’re a little frightened at how shy you are in front of Sunghoon right now, when you were literally cursing him off in your head yesterday because he laughed at you for not knowing an equation. 

He chuckles, and you swear your heart flips at the way his eyes crease when he does. “You know, I was starting to think that you didn’t even go to this school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Well, at least the feeling is mutual. “Yeah, me neither. I didn’t realise you’re kinda popular.” You say as you eye his large group of friends that are all waiting for him. “It must be the ice skating, right?” You joke, mentally slapping yourself for being rude.

Sunghoon laughs anyway, and he leans forward when does, making your heart nearly jump out of your chest. “Yeah, either that or my brain.”

“Nerd.” You playfully roll your eyes, finally being able to mix together the Sunghoon that gets all excited when he’s got a hard question right, and the Sunghoon that’s standing in front of you right now.

A voice interrupts the two of you. He always does. Whenever you manage to find a little bit of peace at school, Yang Jungwon always finds a way to ruin it. You’re so close to getting him charged for stalking at this point. Both you and Sunghoon turn around to see who was clearing their throat, and you almost growl when you do.

“What do you want?” You snap, not giving him the time of day.

Jungwon tilts his head with an offended look on his face and a hand on his heart like he always does. “That’s rude, Y/N, I was just–”

“She said what do you want.” Sunghoon deadpans beside you out of nowhere.

Jungwon furrows his brows, as do you. Nobody has ever come between the two of you bickering before, this was new to the both of you. You decided to stay quiet and see what Jungwon would say, a little nervous at how this might all play out. 

“What?” Jungwon chuckles, jutting out his chin to make himself appear taller. The two are practically the same height, but something about Sunghoon’s figure makes him seem so much taller than Jungwon. Are you about to witness an alpha brawl out?

Sunghoon doesn’t move, you don’t even think he’s breathing right now. His eyes are trained on Jungwon’s with a glare so intense even you’re a little scared. “Is there something you need to say to Y/N?”

Jungwon’s brows remain furrowed as his eyes narrow and an annoyed look spreads across his face. How ironic, he’s starting to look like you. You don’t think you’ve seen Jungwon this physically frustrated since the time his bike broke when he was thirteen and he tried to kick it but ended up spraining his ankle. He always looks amused. No matter the situation, Jungwon always has a smile on his face. Seeing him like this—threatened—caught you a little off guard.

“I can say whatever the hell I want to her, pretty boy.” He muttered, his face inches away from Sunghoon’s.

Someone behind you whispers something about their sexual tension, almost making you snort at the scene. You have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, because now you can’t unsee it.

“Well, too bad we have somewhere to be, don’t we, Y/N?” Sunghoon turns to you, and all of a sudden you can feel everyone’s eyes focusing on you.

You giggle awkwardly, before making eye contact with Jungwon. He’s never glared at you like this before, and for the first time you can think of, you feel small in front of him. “Uh, yeah, we should, uh, get going.”

Sunghoon grins at Jungwon as soon as you speak, and barges past his shoulder aggressively before pulling you by your wrist to go and follow him. For some reason, though, you can’t help but turn around to see Jungwon standing there, already looking right at you. 

-

“Sooo,” you sit on a desk as Sunghoon closes the door to the empty classroom the two of you are hiding in behind him, “you gonna’ explain what just happened?”

Sunghoon leans on the desk right in front of you and looks at you blankly, like what just happened didn’t happen at all. “What? You didn’t like it?”

“Like what? Jungwon’s probably going to be so mad because of this.” It’s true, the bike incident when he was thirteen led to him being extra rude for the whole time he was injured. You figure this time it’s his pride that’s hurt, so he’s going to lash out at you until he makes himself feel better. You haven’t even gotten back at him yet for the chemistry club situation, so you really don’t want to be dealing with a moody Jungwon; you’re scared of how creative he’s going to be.

Out of nowhere, Sunghoon lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back in vexation as he does. “Come on, Y/N, aren’t you bored of it?”

Confused, you answer. “Of what?”

“This whole cat and mouse deal you have going on with Jungwon? I remember being in the same class as you in our freshman year of high school, and everyone in the class was sick and tired of you two bickering everyday. I thought it’d blow over eventually. How are you still letting this go on?” 

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Of course you’re tired of it. Of course you want it to end. Of course you want nothing to do with Jungwon and you want a peaceful last year of school to focus on your exams and college. Of course you want to be able to hang out with your friends without thinking about Jungwon. Of course you want to write in your diary without mentioning him. Of course you’re sick of this all. But how the hell are you supposed to end it? You hate his guts and he hates yours. His pride may be thick but yours is definitely thicker.

This situation reminds you of the time you did try to be nice to Jungwon once, with the hopes all of this mess would end.

Your mum just got off the phone and suddenly bursted her way into the kitchen. A little startled at her fast movements, you followed her and sat on the counter. “Mum? What’s wrong?” Panicking, she gathered different ingredients and kitchenware to cook something, and you couldn’t be any more confused. “Mum! What’s going on?”

“The Yang family,” she started, already mixing away two eggs, “their son is sick. This is the only time she has ever asked me to do anything, Y/N. That family has looked down on us ever since we moved here, and not once has Mrs Yang ever asked for help. But she’s away, and her boy is at home sick without anyone to feed him. If I don’t make a good impression on that snobby little boy, they’ll think we’re incapable and cruel human beings. I have–”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, not really thinking much of it. As far as you could care, Jungwon could starve. “As long as I’m not the one delivering it,” you mumbled, leaving the kitchen.

Of course you were the one delivering it.

Releasing a long sigh from the pit of your chest, you tried to put aside your pride and hatred to drop off the tray of food for Jungwon. You tried to remind yourself to have some humanity, that he was sick and alone and needed some food. The only thing that managed to help you push through was imagining him begging on his knees for food from you and you holding the tray away from his sick hands’ reach. A little evil, but it helped you press his doorbell.

When Jungwon opened the door, you could feel your heart sink to the ground. All those mischievous thoughts in your mind about teasing him flew out of your mind as soon as you got a good look at his face. He was extremely pale, and his eyes were red and glassy. He looked frail, like a single touch could knock him over. You gasped when you saw him, and immediately took a step inside to go and help him anyway you could.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” You asked, placing the back of your palm on his head that was drenched in his sweat. “Oh, my God, you’re boiling. Jungwon, take your coat off.” Placing the tray on the ground, you tried to help him take off his coat but he wouldn’t budge. Looking back at him, he had a disgusted look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing? My mum said you came here to give me food, not baby me.” He shrugged his coat back on to stop it from sliding off his shoulder and snatched the tray up from the ground.

“What? I’m trying to help-”

“Who asked you to? Piss off, Y/N.”

Standing outside of his house, you were shocked. You were just trying to help him. You put aside the feelings you two had towards each other because he was sick. Even sick Jungwon is an asshole, you thought. That was when you made a mental note to never be nice to this guy ever again. He didn't deserve it.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon waves his hand in front of yours, forcing you out of your daydream. 

You shake your head, “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

Sunghoon stares at you for quite a while without saying anything, letting you scan his features freely. His dark hair extends at the back of his neck, kind of like a mullet, and it suits him a lot. His eyebrows are sharp, and you inwardly frown at how they look better taken care of than yours. His eyes aren’t anything special, but they’re looking at you intently right now; they look heavy, like he has a lot to say. Sunghoon’s lips, however, God you could stare at them forever. They’re so pink and plumpy, he’s definitely a good kisser.

“Are you staring at my lips right now?” Your eyes snap back to Sunghoon’s eyes in horror that he caught you. He laughs at your reaction, so you follow, covering your mouth with a hand. “So what’s the deal with you and Jungwon?” He asks after the two of you have calmed down. 

You shrug, wanting to avoid his question since you already ask yourself that every single day. “Nothing, really.”

“So, you just argue for fun? Masochism, I like it.” He chuckles, and you dart your eyes at him. “No, no I’m just saying, if you can’t even tell me why you two argue, what’s the point of doing it?” 

It’s a genuine question. It’s a question Yuna has asked you, your teachers have asked you, the other girls in your friend group have asked you, your parents have asked you, but most importantly one that you’ve asked yourself countless times. And you’re annoyed because the answer is there is no answer. You don’t ever remember doing anything to offend Jungwon when he first moved into your neighbourhood or your school. You just remember him being a little shit, thinking he could walk all over and bully you. But your dad brought you up differently, to stand up for yourself. That’s why Jungwon’s always on offence, and you always seem to be on the defence.

“I never start anything,” you look at Sunghoon, and you find it heartwarming how he’s listening so intently, “He’s always the one that approaches me, so I just bite back. If I never did, I would be crushed by now.” You explain, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve.

“So Jungwon’s a bully?” Sunghoon asks, and your body suddenly feels tons heavier. You hate that word, it just doesn’t sound right. 

“No, not a bully.”

“Sounds like it.” Sunghoon shrugs. “He’s mean to you so you’re mean back. Except it’s been going on for years.”

You get up from the desk and sit on another, feeling a little uncomfortable with this situation. “Um, I guess? It doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just becoming repetitive at this point. Today’s the first day he didn’t say something stupid. It was relieving, you know.” You explain, a smile unconsciously growing on your lips. 

“Don’t worry,” Sunghoon comes over, his wide chest blocking your field of vision, “now that you’ve got me around, he won’t bother you as much.”

-

Dear diary, 

I had fun today.

It’s only half way through your diary entry that you notice you didn’t start it off with the infamous “I hate Jungwon.” Actually, reading the entry made you realise how little you even saw him today. The only time you spoke to him was when you were with Sunghoon. How long has it been since the two of you didn’t have a petty argument? You find yourself smiling down at your diary, a wave of relief washing over your body at the thought of Sunghoon being your first step to freedom. 

You also find yourself smiling when you started scribbling down how fun your chemistry club was today. You and Sunghoon barely even finished a question, the two of you talking and laughing the entire time. He even promised that if he was ever free, he’d give you occasional free tutoring for chemistry. Life would be so much easier if Jungwon was more like Sunghoon, wouldn’t it?

Somebody should have warned you that your happiness is short lived, because while you were giving Yuna a detailed update of everything to do with Sunghoon, Jungwon’s voice echoed behind you. You promise yourself that one day, you need to creep up behind him and his friends and cut them off because this was really starting to piss you off.

You and Yuna turn around, both you offering him the exact same defeated look. 

“That Sunghoon guy,” Jungwon starts, taking slow steps towards you. “Since when did you two get close?”

Yuna scoffs loudly, putting a hand on her hip. “Why? You jealous, Yang?” Yeah, as if he would be. He’s probably jealous of you, seeing that tension between them yesterday.

Jungwon laughs sarcastically before turning back to you so fast you had to flinch your head backwards. He was a little too close for your liking so you stepped back. “Yeah, you wish. No, I’m just asking because he’s an asshole, and I don’t want to have to talk to him every time I wanna annoy you.” 

You push his shoulder away from you and laugh in disbelief. “Well, why don’t you just stop trying to annoy me then, huh?” You could tell what you said threw Jungwon off guard a little by the way he twitched his brows. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him take a second to come up with something to say, usually it’s second nature to him. You smirked, thanking God for giving you the upper hand today. “Aww, are you insecure, Jungwon? Does Sunghoon make you insecure?” You ask in that irritating baby voice he always uses on you. “Are you jealous because you’ll never have hair as good as his? Or because you’ll never be as good looking as him? Are you sad that–”

“Y/N, I’m not the one that attracts the opposite sex through pity.” 

That shuts you up completely, and your confidence withers to bits. He’s got that same disgusted look on his face as that day you went to visit him. It’s not like he’s never said something as harsh as that before, so you’re not really sure why this is affecting you so much. As embarrassing as it is to admit, that really hurt.

“First, he has to witness how horrible you are at chemistry. Then he saw you speaking to me, and probably felt bad for you. And let’s not even mention your looks.” Jungwon continues, peeling off every layer you’ve been forced to wrap around yourself ever since you met him. Slowly, he’s stripping away your pride, your dignity, and even your self esteem. “You think I’m jealous of a guy that sleeps around so much he probably has STDs? I think our fighting has made you forget that I also get girls, Y/N. I just don’t flout them for attention like he does.”

“Let’s go,” Yuna whispers, tugging on your sleeve. Your eyes are on the ground, unable to meet Jungwon’s. You’ve never felt so insignificant and helpless in front of him before, your body is unable to catch up with all these new emotions. “Come on, Y/N.”

The two of you are walking down the hallway, making your way to the bathroom. Tears are pooling in your eyes, something Jungwon has never managed to make happen. You feel so stupid, so stupid for letting him break you after all these years. All these years you wasted arguing with him almost every single day of your life. For what? What did either of you get out of it? You’ve never even stopped for a second to consider the words that you two were saying to each other, how much you were hurting each other. Well, you doubt you’ve ever really hurt Jungwon. He’s probably jumping up and down right now, cheering at the thought of finally winning. You just hope this means that it’s all over. You’re exhausted.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice appears just as you’re about to follow Yuna into the bathroom. 

You feel your breath grow heavier at the sound of his voice, humiliation rippling throughout your body. Maybe that’s why this affected you so much. Maybe it’s because Jungwon was calling you an idiot for thinking Sunghoon liked you. Because apparently he’s just another popular boy. And because apparently, he's just been fooling you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Hurriedly, he walks up to you and places a hand atop your head, his doe eyes boring right into yours. You want to push him away so hard and tell him to go find another girl to play with, but all you can do is stare back at him. “Look, come here.” He pulls you away from the safe space of the female bathroom and right into the disabled ones. 

You don’t know why, but as soon as Sunghoon locks the door, your tears start falling against your will. On instinct, you turn away and bring a hand to stop yourself from sobbing audibly. If what Jungwon said is true, you cannot let Sunghoon see you crying. You’ve read enough romance books to know that bad boys love it when a girl is vulnerable. But Sunghoon doesn’t speak; you’re not even sure he moves. The room is silent, albeit your quick breaths and occasional sobs. At this point, you’re just letting your body move on its own. Your mum always tells you it’s best to cry it out, to let your emotions ride out their course. So you decide to stay there and continue to cry into your already soaked hands. 

Once you’re done wiping away your cheeks and rubbing your eyes, you make your way to the mirror to see what you look like. If Sunghoon wasn’t in the room you would have cried all over again just from seeing your reflection. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

Sunghoon giggles, and lifts himself up from leaning against the door to come stand behind you. Gently, he brushes away strands of your hair from your face and fixes your collar for you. “I think,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “you look just fine.” 

-

Dear diary,

Unfortunately, I still hate Jungwon.

“No, why are you starting it like that again?” Yuna huffs beside you, probably disappointed at your relapse. It’s been a week since Jungwon made you cry, and it’s been a calm week, too. You never told Sunghoon what happened, but he’s been staying by your side at school since. He likes to call himself your personal bullmastiff, and that he scares away Jungwon who’s only a sheep. Although you’re still terrified that what Jungwon said about Sunghoon being a manwhore is true, there’s still a part of you that hopes it isn’t. You’re hoping he isn’t just hanging around to get in your pants.

“Because I’m mad, Yuna. If we’re really ending this, I can’t be the only one that’s upset about it. I need to think of one final thing to get back at him. Something that will really hurt him.” You explain, really disappointed in how much you’ve been lacking this school year. You haven’t gotten him back once, and it’s frustrating you.

“Hm, what about his motorbike?” Yuna asks, an evil glint to her eyes.

“No.” You shake your head. “No way. I would love to, believe me–”

“So why not?”

“Because his parents would kill me!”

“Oh come on, that bike costs to them what a piece of gum costs to us, Y/N.”

“No, I heard him tell his friend. You know that pervert, Heeseung? Yeah, they were talking about it and Jungwon was saying that it’s from a limited series and that his parents had to fly out to Thailand to bid for it.” You whisper, for some reason you don’t really know. “Thailand, Yuna.”

“Okay, why don’t we wear masks? We can get Sunghoon to help us, too. You know, like them ski masks.” Yuna motions the mask with her hands, a persuasive look on her face. You’re tempted to, you really are. The thought of taking the only thing that Jungwon seems to have human feelings for away from him is very tempting.

“But wait, he wouldn’t know it’s me.”

“Uh, Y/N, that’s a good thing? If he knows it’s you, you’d be sued.” 

“Oh, yeah, true.”

“We can enjoy our victory from afar, okay?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Okay.”

-

This may be the worst idea you’ve ever thought of in your entire life.

Here you are, standing in between Sunghoon (who Yuna had to convince for hours to come along) and Yuna. The three of you are wearing your ski masks, but Sunghoon is too much of a cheapskate to buy a new one so he’s wearing his dad’s bright blue mask and making the three of you look stupid. 

“Okay, on the count of three–”

“No wait!” Sunghoon’s voice squeaks as he whisper-shouts.

You and Yuna whip your heads into his direction, stunned at his voice crack. “Sunghoon, you’re the only guy here!” You whisper-shout back. “You can’t be the scared one.”

“I have never broken the law before, if I get caught doing this my parents are going to kill me, Y/N.” He panics, yet neither of you can take him seriously with his idiotic mask on. 

“What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure you broke about five laws driving us here in your mum’s car.” You snap, before looking at Yuna. “But maybe he’s r–”

“No, guys it’s now or never.” Yuna whispers, before tugging on both yours and Sunghoon’s sleeves, running ahead. Your veins are booming so loud you’re worried someone will be able to hear it. Arriving at the tail of the motorcycle, you raise a trembling finger to touch it. You gasp when you do, already mentally hearing the sounds of sirens coming closer and closer.

Yuna pulls out a hairpin and shoves it into the keyhole of the motorcycle while you and Sunghoon crouch and cower behind her, failing to keep a proper look out. This feels so wrong, but it’s too late to go back now. Sunghoon’s stupid mask is probably plastered all over the CCTVs already. You’ll probably need a miracle to not get yourself landed in prison.

Yuna whimpers as she struggles to switch on the engine. You’re starting to panic even more now, the thought of this all going horribly wrong circling your mind repeatedly. “It’s not working!” She yells, and you and Sunghoon look at each other with wide eyes. 

“Go help her!” You motion at him, your heart drumming louder than it ever has before.

“What do you mean go help her, why don’t you go help her?!” Sunghoon doesn't budge and only tightens his hold on the tail of the motorcycle.

“No, I’m keeping look out!”

“No you’re not, you’re looking at me!”

“Will you two shut up and come help me?!” Yuna screams, and you shoot up to go over and help her. It’s useless, though. No matter how much the two of you twist and turn the hairpin, the engine doesn’t turn on. “Why isn’t it working? We practised this like a thousand times!”

“I don’t know! Maybe because it’s a limited edition?!” You scream back, the plan blowing up in your face. 

“Fuck!” Yuna slams the head of the bike in anger as you start to lose control of your breaths. “I think I’ve broken the keyhole.” 

You groan loudly, closing your eyes to think of a way to fix this. Trying so hard to calm yourself down, you attempt to come up with another plan. It’s either that or the three of you need to escape—now

But as always, Jungwon’s voice interrupts you. His timing is probably his only positive attribute.

“Hey!” He barks at the other end of the road, making you and Yuna look at each other like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s running as fast as he can, so much so you can see his forehead shining under the street lights. 

“Let’s ditch the bike!” 

“No! We can’t let this all be for nothing!” 

“Out of the way ladies!” Sunghoon’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you turn to see him standing over the bike with a large pole in his hands. Oh, my God. Instinctively, you and Yuna jump off the bike and run behind Sunghoon to watch him do his dirty work.

You poke out your head, trying to catch your breath and a glimpse of Jungwon. “He’s close, hurry up!”

“No!” Jungwon screams, reaching his arms out, dread written all over his little baby face. “Stop, please!”

Sunghoon ignores him and draws back the pole before slamming it against the metal of the motorcycle. He hits it again and again, parts flying all over the place each time. He yells at every impact, like he was beating up a person. 

Jungwon arrives, and you can't help but notice his breaths are shaky and the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. He pulls Sunghoon away from you and punches him right in the jaw, a roar ripping right from the bottom of his lungs. The light sensors of the neighbouring houses switch on, and some neighbours even come out to take a peek. With the rush of the scene flowing through your veins, and the fear that all of this is for nothing, you pick up the pole that fell out of Sunghoon’s hands and hit the bike yourself. Hearing Jungwon beg like that so helplessly for the first time in your life only fuels your anger even more. Each whack, each hit, your mind flashes back to the times Jungwon hurt you, the times Jungwon forced you to build another wall.

“What’s the point of going to the school dance? It’s not like anybody wants to go with you, anyway.” Whoops, there goes the headlight.

“Oh, my God, you might as well go home if you’re going to be dressed like that the entire trip. Stop embarrassing us.” Oh no, the brake is broken.

“You failed chemistry again? Look, guys, she got 10%! What a loser!” Aw man, now the gas tank is leaking.

Before you can damage the bike anymore, Yuna pulls you back into reality. She’s yelling something at you, but your eyes can’t help but focus on Jungwon struggling against Sunghoon’s hold. 

“Please! No, please stop! I’ll give you anything you want, just get away from my bike!” 

He’s crying. 

Your surroundings suddenly blur as Yuna pulls you towards the car you guys came in. She shoves you in while telling you something but you can’t shift your attention from Jungwon who’s now given up and is laying still on the floor. He isn’t even fighting Sunghoon anymore. He’s just still, the base of his palms rubbing his eyes as his tears roll off his cheeks and fall onto the floor.

You made Jungwon cry. You made Yang Jungwon cry.

-

You're ashamed. You can't even step outside your house without making sure your hood is well over your head, hiding your face for anyone to see. There's no way anyone in the neighbourhood could know that it was you, right? You were completely covered; it could have been any two girls and a guy who smashed Jungwon's precious bike and brought him to tears.

Literal freaking tears.

In all the years you two have fought, Jungwon only ever smiles. He grins, or laughs that really annoying laugh where he throws his head back and stamps his feet on the floor. He pretends to be upset by putting a hand on his heart and squeezing his eyes shut, letting out an exaggerated gasp. He pretends to be mad by putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head so far sideways his hair looks like it's about to fall off. Jungwon is expressive, he enjoys winding you up by acting out his emotions—real or fake—dramatically. You've always hated it, but now you're praying that you're going to meet him on your way to school and he'll pretend to whine about how much you hurt him last night.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, waiting at the end of the road for Jungwon to appear. You're not really sure why. What are you even going to say if you see him? You can't even apologise for what you've done, his parents would definitely put you behind bars. The wait is killing you, impatience stirring in your stomach at an outrageous speed. Gulping, you contemplate whether you should go knock on his door or not. Maybe he's oversleeping because he's tired from last night. Maybe if you knock, he'll wake up and nag at you for babying him like he did before.

Without really thinking, you head straight to his front door step with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Breathing in, you press the doorbell. His house is huge, and the noise the doorbell makes almost frightens you out of your skin. The loud ring echoes in your mind loudly as you tap your foot on the ground and keep your eyes locked onto the door. You press it again. And again. And again.

And then you wait.

But Jungwon never comes out. Nobody does. Not him, his sister or his parents. You're even hoping some sort of maid will come and open the door. But nobody does. You're trying not to overthink the situation: maybe he's just being a teenage boy and angry that his bike is broken so he's decided to skip school today. 

The thought calms you down a little bit, so you turn around to leave. While turning back to the entrance, something shiny catches your eye around the corner of Jungwon's front yard. Curious, you scuttle towards it and poke your head around to see what it is. Your heart drops when you do. There it is. Jungwon's motorcycle that you smashed to pieces last night. Laying next to it, is an open box of tools, an unfinished cup of coffee, and Jungwon's jacket that he always wears under his blazer. The guilt at the pit of your stomach spreads around your body, squeezing your heart and scraping at your throat. Did he really stay up all night trying to fix it all by himself? 

Did you go too far?

-

"Come on, you're being weird." Sunghoon crosses his arms, not shifting his gaze away from you.

Usually, you appreciate his attentiveness because it makes you feel special and gets you all shy, but today it isn’t doing you any good. You chuckle breathlessly and pull the sheet of paper towards you. "So I just need to calculate the mass of this mole, right? Using this equation?"

Sunghoon sighs, "Y/N, you know you can tell me what's wrong, right?" 

You look up to meet his heavy gaze, his face already so close to yours. "No? Just because you chose to follow me around at school doesn't mean we're best friends, Sunghoon. It doesn't mean I can pour my heart out to you."

His expression doesn't falter, a blank look sitting on his face. "Then what are we?"

You pause, not really knowing how to answer that question. You're aware that he gives you butterflies, and that you find him attractive. But what about what Jungwon said about him sleeping around? Hasn't Sunghoon stayed around long enough for it to be more than that? Or is that all you guys are - good friends? But then why would Sunghoon ask that question? 

Confused and already emotionally drained from your crime yesterday, you scrunch up the question sheet in your hand and get up from your chair. Without saying a word to Sunghoon, you leave.

-

At home, you’re lying on your couch, flicking through the channels on the television. Nothing is exciting you since you can’t seem to pay attention to anything. There are only two things on your mind right now. Jungwon and Sunghoon.

As for Jungwon, you can’t stop picturing him in that little alleyway beside his house—sweating away, hurting himself trying to fix his motorcycle. He’s probably not eaten any real food in awhile, desperate to get it back to how it was before you and Yuna came up with that stupid plan. You groan into your hands, thinking about how you never thought you’d live to see the day you’d feel bad for Jungwon. Doesn’t he deserve this? Why does this bike mean so much to him? He can just fly out to Thailand and buy another one, right?

Then your thoughts suddenly shift to Sunghoon. If he really is the manwhore Jungwon pinned him out to be, how come he’s been nothing but supportive since you and Jungwon stopped talking to each other? There are no girls, you can’t see them. The only way it would be possible is if he has this whole other life outside of school. The partying, drinking and sex type of life. He said he’s never broken the law before, but he seemed pretty confident driving his mum’s car with one hand on the wheel and another on the radio. Do you even know Sunghoon? Sure, he’s a science nerd and likes to ice skate. But what else is there to him?

You sigh when the sound of the doorbell interrupts your thoughts. It’s 10pm, who could possibly be ringing at this time of night? Groggily, you get up, fixing your bun so you look a bit more appropriate for whoever it is that’s ruining your free time. Peering through the peephole, you’re only met with a man in a black hood who’s purposefully hiding his face from the door. A little worried, you call your mum over. “Mum! There’s a creepy man at the door!”

She hops out of the kitchen with a meat knife in one hand, a frying pan in the other and a terrified look on her face. “You take the knife,” she whispers, “and hide behind me while I hold the pan and see what this guy wants.”

“Wait, why am I holding the knife?” You point at yourself, your mum’s behaviour starting to affect you, too. 

The doorbell rings again and you both flinch. “Because if he sees the knife in my hand he might attack. So you hide behind me, okay? I’m just going to open the door like an inch wide, don’t worry.” Her eyes are wide while she tries to convince you to follow through with her not-well-thought out plan. 

You do anyway. “Okay.”

You take the knife from your mum before the two of you sneak towards the door. Hesitantly, she opens it, and the thought of her life being taken right before you flashes in your mind for a second. Right before she lets out a relieved laughter, a hand on her chest. “It’s just the Yangs’ kid, Y/N. Don’t scare me like that again.”

Jungwon? What the hell is he doing here? You poke your head out from beside her and see Jungwon looking down at his feet that are awkwardly kicking the floor. “I didn’t know it was him, sorry.” You mutter, furrowing your brows at him.

“I am so sorry, Jungwon. Is there something you need?” Your mum asks, widening the door. When he looks up, you can’t help but cringe. His eye bags are heavy, and his lips are so chapped they’re peeling. Not to mention how red and sore his eyes are, he’s struggling to even keep them open. He’s worse than the time you went to give him the tray of food. You don’t even realise that you two are staring at each other silently until your mum speaks up again. “Is something wrong?”

His eyes quickly divert to your mum’s and he clears his throat aggressively. “No, uh, I just wanted to know if your husband is here.”

Your mum shakes her head, “No, he’s visiting his brother right now. He won’t be back for a few days.” 

“Can you call him?” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungwon speak so meekly before. It’s odd, and the thought that you may have broken him makes your toes curl.

“Yes, yes, what do you want me to say?”

“How to fix a motorcycle brake. I remember that he had one a few years ago, so I thought he’d know.” 

“Oh! Was it your motorbike that got smashed by those teenagers?” Jungwon nods, his eyes falling to the ground again. “Ms Jung showed me her CCTV cameras and how horrible those kids were. Their parents really need to sort them out.” She tuts, pulling out her phone.

Even your mum is disgusted by your behaviour last night. Of course she is, what you did was way out of line. You play with your fingers as the guilt travels further, making you a lot more jittery than usual. “My dad’s break broke once and he showed me how to fix it. I can, uh, help if you want.” It’s the least you can do, an easy repair, indirectly apologise, and throw away this stupid guilt so you can focus on getting your school life back on track. Maybe after you help him fix his bike, the two of you can finally be even and put your pettiness in the past once and for all.

Jungwon only looks you in the eyes, not saying anything. They remind you of Sunghoons’; loud and heavy. 

“Oh, okay, that’s perfect. You go and help him. I’ll bring some snacks later.” Your mum pushes you out of the house, and you curse her for doing so when all you’re wearing is a hoodie, a pair of cycling shorts, and slippers. “Bye!” She waves, shutting the door in your face before you can even speak.

Well, this is awkward. Turning around, you try to put on a smile to Jungwon, but his eyes flicker straight from your eyes to your mouth before he storms back to his house. You follow him with a huff, realising that this is going to be a long hour. Catching up to him, you throw your hood over your head and stuff your hands in your pockets to try and stay warm. “So,” you start, trying to get straight to the point, “if we’re lucky, all you’ll need to do is clean the pistons. You know, those little metal things that open and close w-”

“I know what a piston is.” He grumbles, opening his gate. “I would have done that if that girl didn’t smash it off my bike.” 

Your eyes lower as he unknowingly mentions you, and try to shake off the feeling of guilt again. You never would have guessed this would have hurt him this much. But then again, isn’t that what you wanted? “Oh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “well then this is gonna take a long time.” 

The two of you arrive at the corner, and that’s when you notice there are three more cups of coffee lying next to the bike. You purse your lips, trying to throw away the imagination of him desperately attempting to stay awake, pushing his body well past its limits all in order to fix what you broke. 

“Okayyy,” you whisper, copying Jungwon by getting on your knees, followed by a hiss once you feel the cold rocky ground. Clearing your throat, you turn to him, who still has an emotionless look on his face. You really wish he would do something right now. You wouldn’t even mind it if he made fun of you. Staring at him like this, like an empty shell, is too much to bear. “So, where’s the brake?” You put out your hand, and Jungwon complies by giving it to you. Observing it, you’re relieved that it hasn’t been damaged too much, and that it’s okay to put it back on the bike. “First, we need to take the callipers off the bike.” You don’t explain what it is this time, since he got agitated when you did it before. “Should I do one side and you do the other?” 

He nods, so you crawl over to the other side, and together, the two of you start working on the bike.

After around twenty minutes of silent working, you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since the second you saw him cry. “Jungwon?” You ask. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he hears you. “Why don’t you just get your parents to buy you another one?”

It takes him a while to reply, you assume he’s just busy with the clamps. “They can’t. There’s no more on sale.” 

You’re aware that it sounds a bit harsh, but you still push. “Can’t they just buy another brand?” 

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours through the tiny gaps between the motorcycle parts. “I don’t want another one.”

You sigh at his vague responses. “Okay, what about hiring someone to come and fix your bike? Or getting a friend, literally anyone-”

Abruptly, Jungwon throws the clamp onto the floor, the ring of the metal bouncing around your skull. “I didn’t ask you to come and help, you know? You offered. If you don’t want to, there’s nothing stopping you from leaving.” He spits, his eyes piercing into yours angrily. 

You put your hands up in a feign defence. “I’m sorry, I was just asking.” You mutter under your breath, a little shocked at his reaction. “I’m okay with fixing the bike, it just looked like you didn’t wanna ask so I was telling you there are other options.” 

Jungwon sighs, before picking up the clamp and getting back to work. “I know.” He mumbles, and you can hear the piston creaking under the pressure of his clamp hold. “I know there are other options, but I don’t trust any of them with this bike. I’ve known your dad for a while and I remember how much he cared about his bike, so I thought I’d just ask him to help.” The thought of Jungwon trusting your dad over his creepy friends makes you feel a lot better, but the sound of the piston about to snap distracts you.

Crawling back over, you return to Jungwon’s side. You don’t even notice that your thighs are touching each other when you reach out to take the clamp from his hands. He looks at you a little alarmed, but you respond with an awkward smile. “You’re putting too much pressure. You have to unstick one piston at a time, if you do it like that it’ll snap.” You explain, opting to do it yourself to save some time.

“How come you know how to fix a break?” He asks randomly, startling you a little bit. 

You stay focused while you answer him, your eyes not moving from the clamp. “Sometimes my dad teaches me things like this. He says he does it because he doesn’t have a son.”

“What other things has he taught you?” 

Since this is the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jungwon, you decide not to question why he cares about your relationship with your dad so much.  “How to ride a bike, how to play football, how to put up a shelf, how to fix a laptop that’s had water spilled on it.” You giggle at the last one, memories piling into your head. Jungwon doesn’t say anything else so you turn around to see why. He’s just staring at your hands working with the clamp, so you choose to fill in the tense silence. “The time he broke his break, he called me over while I was studying. I told him that it’s not important since a motorcycle break and a bike break are two completely different things and that this would never come in handy.” You face Jungwon again, and his eyes meet yours. “Turns out it did come in handy.” 

There’s a moment, a long moment of comfortable silence with the two of you staring at each other. For the first time, you notice the shape of his eyes and how delicately pulled out they are. They’re kind of pretty, in a boyish sort of way. You can’t really believe you’ve been staring at these eyes for the past eight years without ever finding yourself swimming in them until now. 

Jungwon scoffs, breaking eye contact before taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t turn out heavy handed since you were basically brought up as a boy,” he mutters against the cup.

With that, you unconsciously suck in such a deep breath of air. A wave of relief washes over your body as you let out an incredibly loud laugh at his comment. There he is, the asshole that is Yang Jungwon. You seriously thought you broke him, but hearing him say something so rude wiped away any and all of your doubt. 

He’s back. And you couldn’t be more than happy about it. 

-

Walking into school the next day, you’re a little bit anxious. You’re anxious because:

You might bump into Sunghoon and he might start asking scary questions again

You might bump into Jungwon and have to start fighting again

You don’t want either of those scenarios to happen. So when Sunghoon spots you and says goodbye to his friends, you panic and pull onto your friend’s sleeve. “Quick, pretend we’re having a really serious and private conversation.”

She panics and tries to think of something to say. “Uh, I made out with Sunghoon at Ryujin’s party!” With her eyes shut, in front of everyone in the hallway, your friend, Chaeryeong, admitted to sleeping with Sunghoon. You spot him from the corner of your eye, freezing once he heard what Chaeyoung said, and you wait for him to come over and ask why you two are making up shit about him. He doesn’t. 

“Are you being serious right now? I said pretend, Chaeryeong.” Your hand slips away from hers as you look at her in pure disbelief.

“I’m sorry, it’s been on my mind a lot recently because he’s been hanging out with you so much. So when you said say something serious, that was the first thing I could think of.” She rushes, clearly panicked by your response.

“Wait,” you take a step closer to whisper, “When was this? Recently?”

She gives you a worried look, before turning around to see Sunghoon and then turning back to you. “Last, uh, Saturday?”

Saturday. Last Saturday. That was only four days ago. Four days ago you were FaceTiming him while he was helping you with your physics homework. Four days ago was when you asked if he could help you finally get over the Jungwon situation, and he told you that he really wanted to help because he couldn’t stand to see you so hurt. Four days ago was when you told Yuna you think you have a crush on him.

Stepping away, you give one last glance at Sunghoon. “I can't believe you,” you mutter, before turning around and storming away. You tell yourself the reason why you didn’t go up to him and scream in his face is because of the attention you would have gained, but it isn’t; you’re too scared to face him because you were already warned about him ages ago. As funny as it sounds, you should have listened to Jungwon.

-

“What?! Chaeryeong? Our Chaeryeong?” Yuna chokes on her water, surprised.

“Yeah,” you sigh, scribbling away in your notebook. “I’m not really bothered about that, I mean she can sleep with whoever she wants. It’s just, I really thought there was something between me and Sunghoon.” 

Yuna kisses her teeth before shaking her head. “Even I thought there was. Why is he always with you if he’s sleeping with other girls?” Her body simultaneously shivers with yours. “That’s just gross.”

“Maybe he just sees me as a friend. You know in those romance books where the hot guy who gets all the girls appreciates the girl who doesn’t wanna have sex with him and likes hanging around with her?”

“Y/N, they always end up falling in love.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not happening, is it?” You slouch in your seat. 

Jungwon walks into the room, and you smile at Yuna, happy to know that he’s back on his feet. You wait for him to say the same thing he always does when he walks past you to get to his seat. Anxiously, your foot taps on the ground as you nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes not moving from Jungwon’s.

Yuna taps you and leans in to whisper, “You can see it now, right?” Her eyebrows giggle, a huge smirk on her lips.

You cringe at what she said, refusing to let her silly thoughts get to your head. “Shut up,” you mutter, before turning back to see Jungwon talking to another classmate. You hate to admit it, but your eyes do linger on him a little longer. You can’t help but notice the long, dark strands of hair that almost cover his eyes. His nose and jawline are sharp, contrary to his soft and small lips. Your eyes trail down to his Adam's apple as he speaks, and you watch as it bobs up and down attentively. It’s strange that you’ve known Jungwon for so long, yet you’ve never actually taken the time out of your day to really look at him. Because he’s actually really good looking.

“See?” Yuna giggles, slapping your arm playfully. “You’re staring.”

Your head darts to her direction with wide eyes. “I’m just waiting for him to come over.”

“Nu-uh, you’re finally listening to me. I told you he gets girls.” She motions for you to lean in closer while she whispers. “Last year, I peeked into his locker on Valentine’s Day, and I counted thirteen letters, Y/N. Thir-teen.” 

Thirteen girls gave Jungwon a love letter last year? You scoff, resting your chin on your palm as you look at him again. If they knew what you knew, that Jungwon is a total asshole, you bet they’d run far away from him. “I don’t get it. Is it just because of his looks? Are they that shallow?”

Yuna shrugs from beside you. “Well, I’ve heard a lot of good things about him.”

You laugh sarcastically, “Are you gonna talk about the time he helped that one new student when she dropped her books on the floor again?”

“Well, there’s that. But there are other things, too, that I’ve tried to tell you but you just turn down because you hate him so much. Like the time he stopped a boy from getting bullied. It was so cool, Y/N, he just shoved the bully in his shoulders and looked him right in the eyes and told him to fuck off.” 

Something twists in your stomach at that word. It reminds you of when Sunghoon asked if 

Jungwon is just a bully. You can’t be staring at him now, talking about all the good deeds he’s done and why all the girls in your school have a crush on him. He’s mean. He’s insulted you, belittled you, degraded you. You could go on and on about all the times Jungwon has hurt you and laughed in your face whenever he did. He’s a selfish, spoiled rich kid that derives entertainment from picking on you. And like all your friends warn you not to do, you react, dragging it out longer. Maybe if you just stayed silent in the first place, this would have never continued for so long. 

Blinking, you suddenly realise that Jungwon is batting his eyes at you right in front of your face. You gasp, furrowing your eyes and jerking back once you realise how close his face is to yours. Shit, you spaced out and he caught you staring.

“What you staring at, number 23?” He asks, his old grin back on his face.

“Number 23?”

“Class ranks are up on the board.” He explains, and your heart drops to your feet when you realise what he’s saying. “You know,” Jungwon gets up, hands in his pockets as he peers down at you with that familiar evil glint in his eyes. “I thought signing you up for chemistry club would at least get you into the teens. But you only moved up one spot? One?”

Okay, you may have wanted normal Jungwon back, but did his first strike have to be so harsh? Getting up, you realise your legs are trembling. Something inside of you is telling you not to bite back this time, that it’s not worth it. If you truly want this war to end, then you have to be the bigger person and back down. Pursing your lips, you simply walk past him to follow the crowd of students into the hallway to see the class rankings. 

“Oh. My. God, Y/N. You should have seen the look on his face!” Yuna laughs, but you can’t join her. It was embarrassing to let him talk down to you like that. You wish you said something, but this needs to end. This is the first step you need to take.

“Let’s just focus on our class rankings for now.” You say, approaching the wall. 

Although Jungwon made fun of your rank, you have to hide a smile when you see it. It’s not high at all, but at least you’ve improved. With everything that’s been going on recently, you need something positive to cling onto. You pull out your phone to call your mum about your improvement, excited to hear about how proud she’ll be. 

But a voice from behind stops you. You can feel the heat of his body so close to yours, and your heart immediately starts doing backflips. “23rd? That means I’m going to have to spend a lot more time tutoring you, right?” His voice is uplifted, and that pisses you off even more.

Turning around, you furrow your brows and fold your arms. “Really? Are you just going to pretend that–”

Sunghoon, with his hands buried in his pockets and his lips pursed, shrugs. “I asked you what we are, and you just left.” 

That is very true. You did, quite rudely, leave. You erased that part of your day from your mind, and even avoided writing it down in your diary. All you needed was time, because the following week was when you and Yuna figured out what your feelings are towards him. Sighing, you answer. “I know.”

“I helped you break–” he pulls on your blazer to drag the two of you away from the crowd as he leans in to whisper, “I helped you break Jungwon's bike. I know you think that that's a normal thing for a guy like me, but it isn't. I don't go around, smashing people's things, you know. I did that for you, and all I got was a little thank you text.”

Everything he's saying is true, and that's frustrating you further.

“You can't be mad about who I sleep with, Y/N. I've been hovering around for so long, and still, the only guy you think of is Jungwon.”

“What are you even hanging around for, though? Jungwon he-he told me that you treat girls like trophies. I thought–” The eye contact Sunghoon holds with you is intense, he doesn't turn away once. You're too scared to break it because you've never seen him this serious before. 

“So you believed him over me? Someone that you ‘hate’ over a friend? You didn't even bring that up with me, Y/N!" He whisper-shouts, pressing an arm against the lockers beside him so that he can lower his head to meet yours. “You need to ask yourself what's your deal with Jungwon, because I'm not sure you really know what it is.” Gently, he lets go of your blazer and dusts it down with his hands, causing you to blush intensely. 

“You're gonna keep me up all night because of this, now, you know that, right?” You chuckle sarcastically, keeping your eyes on his hand that's lingering above yours. 

He chuckles back, “I know.” His hand stops hovering, and goes back to his pocket.

Looking up at him, you smile endearingly. “We can still be friends, right? Even if whatever this is doesn't sort out the way we want it to, you'll still be my friend.”

"Ayyyyy,” Sunghoon laughs, but it seems forced, and presses a finger into your shoulder. “You're just saying that for the free tutoring lessons.” 

-

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You groan into your arms after you realise what you've just written, disappointed in yourself. It's embarrassing to admit that Sunghoon is right, that Jungwon is constantly on your mind. If it's not the awful things he's said, or the stupid pranks he's played, then it's the way he puckers his lips together when he snorts out a laugh, or the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you to try and piss you off. You've probably never even scratched the surface of Jungwon's mind, yet he somehow lives in yours constantly.

A ping from your phone distracts you from your thoughts.

jung_1: my tire popped

you: and?

jung_1:  use your daddy skills to come and fix it

you:  if u think u can jus tell me what to do ???? then you're vv wrong :/

jung_1:  u came before what's wrong this time?

you: im busy

jung_1: so am i but i can't get anything done without my bike

you: u need to get it checked out professionally

ik u have some weird attachment issues to it but fixing the brakes and tires isn't enough to get that thing up and running again

jung_1: well, miss 23, unlike u i have a brain

fixing everything one at a time v slowly will work eventually

patience is key

so can u jus come already

you: what's in it for me?

jung_1: idk wtf

food?

you: do i look like a dog to u

jung_1: idk??? u name it ill get whatever u want

you: ok fine whatever

After you get dressed to go to Jungwon's house, you scribble one last thing into your diary before you go. 

Let's hope that when I come back, I won't be saying that I hate him again.

-

With a bag of food from your mum to give to Jungwon's parents, you ring his doorbell hesitantly. You will never get over the difference between your house and his despite the fact that you two live just a few houses away from each other. While yours is small and cosy with a garden full of roses and apple trees, Jungwon's stands tall—so modern that it doesn't even have a front garden, it's all just rock hard concrete. 

Opening the door you're met with a sour face when Jungwon looks you up and down. “What's that?” He asks, pointing at your carrier bag.

You inwardly sigh, reminding yourself of the trouble he's putting himself through because of you. “Homemade kimbap.” You hand it to him and he takes it cautiously, eyeing the bag like you hid a bomb in it. “Relax, my mum made it.”

Jungwon's head pops right up when you say that, and you swear his lips are trying their best not to pull up into a smile. Clearing his throat, however, he returns to his normal bitter expression and brushes his hair out of his gaze. “Whatever, come inside while I get dressed.” 

It's only when Jungwon mentions it that you look down and notice that he’s only wearing a pair of underwear. Making a mental note to never visit a teenage boy's house unannounced again, you awkwardly hop inside and sit on the kitchen counter that he directs you to wait at. 

While Jungwon is away, you're left with the housemaid. You've always guessed that they had one, yet you've never seen her leave the house before. Anyone could mistake this for slavery, how scary. 

“Are you Jungwon's friend?” She asks, opening the bag of kimbap that you brought. You nod, deciding it's best not to explain your confusing and infuriating situation to Jungwon's housemaid, and she smiles endearingly, taking out the food. “I'm surprised. He's only ever brought those two hooligans over.”

“Jeongseong and Heeseung?” You ask, chuckling.

She laughs with you at the mention of Jungwon's awful friends who you are secretly afraid of. “They're like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, them two. It's nice to see that some of his friends are sane.” As soon as she unwraps and sees the food, however, the housemaid gasps, a repelled look on her face.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Jungwon can't eat this, it isn't fresh.”

You open your mouth to explain that it had only just been cooked a few hours ago, but choose not to. This is Jungwon's rich and snobby lifestyle, there's no point arguing with someone who knows him a lot better than you do.

“What a waste,” she sighs, “I'll just have to throw it away.” You really want to yell at the woman for disrespecting your mother's food, but the thought of Jungwon's parents catching you screaming at their trusted maid through a secret camera and suing you scares you too much to do so.

But just before she's able to throw it away, Jungwon appears in a zipped up coat and joggers, an arm in front of the bin. “No, no, no, no, Mrs Kim, it's okay.” He says softly, a hand resting on her back as he smiles at her.

Smiles. Like, really smiles. He's acting so gentle around her it's scaring you. Lightly, he takes the dish from her hands and settles it on the middle counter opposite you. He doesn't look up, he just opens the tinfoil and lets his jaw drop slightly at the kimbap your mum forced you to roll for him. You'll never let him know that, though.

“Jungwon, it isn't fresh, you'll get sick.” Mrs Kim retorts, but he's already digging one out. You and Mrs Kim both silently watch Jungwon eat his food contently, and you hate to say it but he eats in such a cute way. His cheeks puff out and he takes such small nibbles of the food, like he's savouring it all. 

“Your mum made this?” He asks, his eyes wide. 

A little thrown off by him, you play with the strings of your jacket. “Uh, yeah. She just told me to bring this when I said I was coming over.” You answer awkwardly. He isn’t throwing any insults at you, and that’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. 

He raises his brows while nodding, continuing to eat his food, leaving you and Mrs Kim standing beside each other in an odd silence. That is, until she leans in to whisper something to you. “He’s never eaten my kimbap so happily before, I wonder what your mum put in this one.” There’s a scowl on her face as bitterness lingers around her words.

You chuckle breathlessly, not really sure why Jungwon’s devouring your mum’s kimbap either. “It’s nothing special.”

Jungwon eyes the two of you before mumbling, “Stop staring.” and grabbing the rest of the food and making his way towards the door. You hesitantly scuttle behind him after giving Mrs Kim an undeserved bow. What a rude woman.

“How’d you pop it?” You ask, staring at the tire in horror as you realise the inner tube is punctured and this is going to be a very long job.

He chuckles, rubbing his hand at the nape of his neck, “Uh, I left my glass out and when I was pushing the bike it kinda just rolled over it.”

Sighing, you give him a defeated expression, “Seriously? You just added to the list of things that I’ve already broken.”

“What?”

You have to stop your breath for a second in order to hide the look of down right fear on your face as you almost slipped the crime you committed. “List of things that need fixing, I mean.” You shake your head and tut, trying to act out feign annoyance. Slowly, you peer over to Jungwon to see if he’s caught on, and he’s just staring blankly. Clearing your throat, you decide changing the topic is your best option right now. “Uhm, do you have a puncture kit?”

Jungwon, after a very long staredown, eventually replies and hands over the kit to you. You have to thank the skies for not throwing you under the bus because that was way too close. Even your hands are shaking a little as you open the kit and get on your knees, the nerves making you very tense. You don’t even have the courage to start up a conversation, and so the two of you work in silence like you did the last time. 

After about an hour in, Jungwon speaks up. “My parents bought this for me.” 

Ignoring the way you jumped at the way his voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere, you scoff. “Well, it’s not like you’ve had to work a day in your life to earn enough money to buy this.”

The dark haired boy huffs, clearly vexed. “No, I mean, they actually bought it. Like it wasn’t just a written cheque, or money into my bank account, or bought online. They flew to Thailand with me to buy it.” He explains, and when you turn to him, his eyes are boring into yours. 

“Okay, and?” You chuckle again, not really paying much mind to his words and focusing on your work instead. It’s just a bike, what is he trying to say that’s so important?

Abruptly, he brings his hand to his laps and flashes you an offended look. Worried that you’ve pressed the wrong buttons, you stop too, quietly letting him continue. “You asked why I only wanted your dad’s help. I’m answering you, okay?”

“Okay, I get it.” 

“It’s- they don’t do that, they don’t go out with me for..me.” You still don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but you nod anyway. “This bike, it’s the only reminder I have at this point that my parents love- not love, but, ugh, you know what I mean.” He rambles, playing with the strings of his tracksuit bottoms nervously.

Trying your very best to put the pieces together, you tilt your head and ask, “You don’t think your parents love you?”

“I mean, yeah,” he panics, “I’m sure they do, but they’re not like your parents, for example.”

“My parents?” Well, now you’re really lost.

Jungwon sighs, averting his gaze from you to the bike. “You know, like my dad never taught me the things yours did. My parents never dropped me off to school like yours did. My mum doesn’t even know how to cook..” He mumbles, his voice slowly drifting off with each sentence. 

“Jungwon,” you furrow your brows, “Have you been..comparing your parents to mine all these years?” Now that you think about it, there have been many times where you would be talking to your parents, and from the corner of your eye you’d stop Jungwon staring. You’ve always brushed it off, not wanting to think about the boy any more than you needed to, but now you’re thinking that maybe you should have. It’s common knowledge that money doesn’t buy you happiness, and you and Yuna have always blamed Jungwon’s lavish lifestyle for his bitchiness. But loneliness? That’s something you’ve never associated with him. 

Jungwon lets out a groan, before picking up a screwdriver again. “No.” He mutters under his breath, before turning his back to you completely.

Not wanting to prod at the situation any further, you hesitantly get back to work, too.

It’s been three hours since the two of you started working on the bike. Out of fear that Jungwon had caught on to what you said about you being the culprit, you tried helping him fix the other parts of the motorcycle, too. (Albeit your lack of knowledge of how to do so.) The alleyway has been silent for hours, the only noises were your uncomfortable giggles, shaky breaths and your nails tapping against anything they could find. Jungwon didn’t ask about your slip up, so you are hoping to God that he has no doubt about you because that would just be a one way ticket to jail. 

You don’t even realise that it’s 8pm, dark, and absolutely freezing until you find yourself shivering and brushing up your hands against your bare arms. Jungwon probably hears your chattering teeth as he looks over and juts his chin out at you. “You cold?” He asks, expressionless.

You nod immediately, standing up to stretch your legs and shake them to circulate some warmth around you. The only light the two of you have is the spotlight above you and it’s wearing out a little, making it difficult to see. “Just a little.”

Jungwon eyes your outfit, “You should have brought a coat,” he mutters, before doing the absolute unexpected.

Slack-jawed, you watch Jungwon unzip his puffer coat and hand it to you like it was normal for him to do so. With furrowed brows, you stand still, trying to find the catch behind his actions. “What?” He grumbles. “You’d rather freeze?”

Crossing your arms, you laugh at him. Seeing your breath fog up in the air, you start to reconsider declining his offer. “The last time you offered me a coat, Jungwon, it was from a dumpster. Everyone laughed at me because I had no idea and I wore it the entire PE session.” You explained, hoping he’d catch on to your lack of trust in him.

“Well, this isn’t from a dumpster, so just take it.” His arm is still extended, but you can’t bring yourself to take it from him.

“Just because I’ve come over to help you a few times,” you glare at him, “it doesn’t mean we’re friends now. This isn’t enough for me to forget everything you’ve done to me, Jungwon.” Saying this out loud to him for the first time feels weird. Neither of you have ever confronted each other about your situation. It’s always been avoided. 

Jungwon pulls his arm back towards him, before taking a few steps towards you. “I never said we’re friends, just take the fucking coat.” He curses aggressively, making you flinch a little.

But the two of you are fully aware that you won’t back down from anything without a fight. “I don’t want your coat, Jungwon. It’s bad enough that I’m here, fixing something that you have enough money to do yourself. I don’t need your stupid pity either.”

Chuckling in disbelief, Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoves the coat into your arms. “Again, all I asked was for you to fix the tire. You chose to stay longer. I told you last time that you’re more than welcome to leave if you don’t wanna be here!” He yells at you.

Jungwon has never shouted at you before. It’s always been snarky comments and childish insults. This is new, and you’re not really sure how to react to it.

“Fine! I will leave! I can’t believe I fucking rolled that kimbap for you myself because I was scared you hadn’t eaten anything.” You shout back, throwing his coat on the floor before storming to his gate. “You’re never going to change, are you?” You mumble, while trying to open his gate. 

Suddenly, you feel Jungwon’s hand belligerently pull your shoulder back so you can face him as his fingers tightly grip around your upper arm. His face is merely inches away from yours, eyes piercing right through you like a new found anger has lit inside of him. “I’ve not changed? I literally just offered you my coat.”

“Oh, wow, you’re such a saint, Jungwon.” You seethe, despite the fear running through your blood at the intensity of his glare. “What about me? Huh? I helped you fix half of your bike, I put up with the shitty chemistry club stunt you pulled on me, I helped make your food-”

“And I am trying my best to return the favour!” He snaps again, letting go of your arm.

It’s not until then that you notice a delivery driver parked right outside of Jungwon’s house. Looking over at him, you notice the bags of food in his hands as he awkwardly smiles at the two of you. Your gaze shifts between Jungwon and the driver a few times. “You ordered this?” You ask, pointing at the man who's given up smiling and is now impatiently waiting for you both to collect your food. “For us?”

“I don't like burgers.” He spits, picking up his coat off the ground to pull out his wallet.

While Jungwon is apologising and paying the delivery driver, you stare at your feet in regret. That was way too stubborn of you. Jungwon really was just trying to be helpful by giving you his coat, but you were too prideful to take it. You thought you were better than this, you thought you were better than him. Maybe this issue has always been a two-sided conflict and you've just been too angry to see otherwise.

“Here,” he hands you the bag, and this time you take it reluctantly. 

Pulling out the box to open it, you're met with a fresh little burger meal. It's not much. Hell, it's nothing at all since you're sure Jungwon can afford way more than this cheap rubbish. But it still warps a guilt around your body so twisted you feel too sick to eat the meal. 

A gasp falls from your lips as soon as it hits you; as soon as the realisation of why the bike Jungwon adores so much hits you. He’s connected to it emotionally. It’s the only form of love he’s ever gotten. And you broke it. You can’t believe you broke something so precious to someone. The silence is thick. You can't bring yourself to look at him. There's only one thing running through your mind right now.

He deserves to know what you did.

Your chest feels heavy as Jungwon goes back to sitting on the ground and working on his bike. Agitation punches at your heart while its beats echoes around your head.

He needs to know what you did.

Biting your nails, you turn around to face him. He's been working so hard for days, and it's all because of you. You went too far, and he's paying the consequences—when it should be you. Clearing your throat, you waste no time telling him. 

“I did it.”

Jungwon's hands stop moving, but his gaze remains on the motorcycle.  

“I broke your..I broke your motorbike.” You say hurriedly before nibbling on your bottom lip. He still doesn't move. “It wasn't just me, but I did pretty much most of it.” 

You wait for him to lash out and scream at you, to call the police and have you locked away for life. You wait for him to cry, or yell, or insult you. Anything. But instead he does nothing.

He just quietly says. “Get out.”

“Jungwon, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell–”

“I said get out.” His voice is low and empty.

“I–”

He cuts you off by darting his head towards your direction and glowering at you. So you decide to leave.

-

Dear diary,

I messed up. Big time.

With not enough energy in your system to write anymore in your diary due to the hours of homework you’ve just spent, you pull out your phone instead. Opening Instagram, you decide to aimlessly scroll through your friends’ stories.

First up is Ryujin—dolled up and singing into the camera with a few other girls you mildly recognise. There must be a party, you think. Swiping, you see a picture of Yeji and her boyfriend with red paper cups in their hands, smiling really cheesily. You chuckle at the photo, swiping up and replying to her story with “couple goals fr”. The next video on Yeji’s story, however, forces you to sit up in your chair.

While it seems like a normal video of a normal high school party with Yeji and Jisu dancing away and screaming to the music, your eyes can’t help but wander to the person dancing by themself in the background.

Yang Jungwon. And he’s alone.

This throws you off completely, because from the few parties you’ve visited and from what you’ve seen on people’s stories, Jungwon’s always been one of the lives of the party. He’s always in his huge group of school friends, dancing in the middle of the room, screaming into the microphones, spraying people with water guns. Jungwon was in fact one of the reasons you don’t go to parties often, because you can’t escape his loud personality. So seeing him in the corner, alone, with a bland expression on his face, you feel your heart sink.

And for some reason, you find yourself throwing on an outfit, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and rushing out the doors.

“Hey!” Yeji approaches you, squeezing your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, we would have got my man to pick you up!” She screams over the music, looking at you excitedly. 

Before you can answer her, Yeji’s dragging you further into the house. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to a party, Y/N!” She cheers, putting down her drink to hold onto your other hand and start dancing with you. Smiling awkwardly, you dance along a little, but your eyes keep batting around the room, searching for that one familiar face. Yeji leans forward to yell into your ear, “Is something wrong?!” 

You wince at the volume of her voice, flinching away in fear that she’ll damage your eardrum if she shouts any louder. “I’m fine! Have you seen-?!”

“Sunghoon?!” Yeji asks, both of your bodies still swaying along to the music. “Chaeryoung told us you broke it off with him! That’s why she’s over there with him now!” She points over to the kitchen where the two of them are. You watch as Chaeryoung giggles at whatever Sunghoon is saying, leaning into his taller frame and shyly touching his forearm. 

Well, that was quick of him to move on. 

Yeji holds onto both of your arms before looking into your eyes endearingly, “Do you still like him?! You know, we really need to talk about stuff like this more!” She explains as you squint your eyes, the LED flashing lights and blaring music making it difficult to focus on what she’s saying. “I miss our girly talks where we’d all talk about boys, and-!”

“Y/N!” Yuna appears from your left, immediately hugging you as she does. “You should have told me you were coming, we could have got Yeji’s boyfriend to pick you up!”

You and Yeji giggle at Yuna repeating the same phrase—realising that your whole friend group practically rely on Yeji’s boyfriend for travel. “It’s fine, I just came here for-!”

“Sunghoon?!” She asks, giving you an empathetic look. “He’s with Chaeryoung!” 

Now why does everyone assume you’re here for Sunghoon?

“No, I’m here for Jungwon!”

“What?!” Both your friends yell in unison, animating their confusion with their furrowed brows and cringed noses. 

“Jungwon!” 

Yuna eyes Yeji a little worriedly before she bends down to speak in your ear. “You’re not going to confess, are you?” Unfortunately, you haven’t given your best friend the news of what happened between you and your so-called-enemy, so you chuckle awkwardly when she asks. “Because my parents will kill me if they find out, Y/N.”

You shake your head and offer her a fake smile, “No, don’t worry, I just need to speak to him.”

Reluctantly, she lets you go and you search the house for Jungwon. But instead, you’re met with another distraction. Perfect.

You don’t even need to turn around to know that a certain black-haired tall boy is standing behind you as you recognise the feeling of his chest almost pressed against your back. Sighing aggravatingly, you turn around to meet him. “Hey.”

Sunghoon takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes roaming your face and outfit longingly. “It’s been awhile!” He shouts, giggling at the awkwardness of having to speak over the music before stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “You look really nice!”

“What?!”

“I said, you look really nice!” He repeats, this time a beautiful smile washing over his strong features. He grins at you, smiling so wide you get a perfect view of his teeth and tiny eyes.

“Thank you! So do you!” You laugh, but your smile turns sour once you remember your last conversation with him and the reason why you’re here. 

Swiftly, Sunghoon pulls you by your waist, taking you by surprise. Keeping your attention on him distracted you from the shift in music from EDM to a much slower song, so when Sunghoon tugs you to dance with him, you’re panicking. His fingers hold you softly, barely touching you at all, and when you look up into his eyes, they’re already staring back down at you. He’s perfect; practically everything anyone wants in a partner. So why is Jungwon still the only person on your mind right now?

The room is a lot quieter now, so the two of you don’t need to scream in each other’s faces anymore. Thank God for that. 

“Who did you dress up for, pretty?” Your cheeks can’t help but flare up at the pet name, and you have to purse your lips from smiling like a child. “It definitely wasn’t for me, was it?” There’s a sad smile to his lips, causing you to break the heavy eye contact.

“I just didn’t want to stick out, that’s all. It’d be weird if I came in normal clothes.” Mumbling, you notice the way Sunghoon lets go of your waist with one hand, only to interlock it with yours. 

“So if you didn’t come here to party, why’d you come?” He asks, and all of a sudden the spinning is starting to make you a little dizzy.

You gaze up at him with round eyes, knowing full well that he’s aware of why you came here. You hate the fact that he’s forcing you to say it out loud—to come to terms with your emotions that you absolutely despise right now. Your life could be so much easier if you really did have feelings for Sunghoon (despite the fact that Chaeryoung likes him too, maybe that would have been a bit messy) because showing up to a loud, rowdy place like this for a boy who absolutely hates your guts is just too complicated for your heart to handle.

Liking Sunghoon would have been easier, and even though you’re dancing in his arms right now, you’re still choosing Jungwon.

“I need to tell him.”

“About the motorbike or about your feelings?” 

You gulp, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I already told him about the bike. So now I need to apologise.”

“He’s hurt you, Y/N, really bad. I don’t get why you picked him.” His face is stern, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

Slowly, you let go of Sunghoon’s hand, and take his other off your waist. Looking up at him, you offer him a heartfelt smile before resting your hands on his chest. You take in a deep breath before looking up at him directly and say, “Neither do I.”

And like the two of you are some characters ripped out of the pages of a novel, you break away from each other, time slowing down as you walk away from him. Seeing Chaeryoung latch onto him while you walk backwards puts you at ease a little, you hope he sees the charm in your friend, you really do. 

You’ve been searching for Jungwon for around ten minutes now, and you figure he’s left since you can’t go too far in a house, can you? You end up proving yourself wrong, however, when you walk into the upstairs balcony and spot him staring into the view. 

Quietly, you lean against the balcony beside him, keeping your eyes on him in case he makes an indication that he wants you to leave.

With his gaze locked onto the city, not even sparing you a glance, Jungwon sighs deeply. “What are you doing here?”

“I just needed some fresh air,” You lie, unable to muster up the courage to explain the real reason.

“Okay, well, I think you’ve breathed in enough and you can leave now.” He mutters through jarred teeth. He looks just as angry as the day you told him about the motorbike, the steam still whistling at the top of his head. His jaw is shut tight, making his jawline look sharp enough to stab you with, and his eyes are doing their own damage to the sky with how narrow he’s piercing them.

Turning to face him, you instinctively reach out your hand to hold his arm, “Jungwon, I’m sor-”

Of course he recoils his arm away and of course he gives you a disgusted look. It’s only natural—you kind of deserve this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His tone flicks a switch inside of you unknowingly as you retort, “I was just apologising?”

“No, you don’t get to apologise,” He points at you with one hand, his other leaning against the balcony frame. His brows are lowered and his tongue is occasionally poking the inside of his cheek. “You broke my..you broke my bike.” His voice breaks, and you notice the way his bottom lip quivers. “My bike. Do you know…do you know how many memories me and my parents made in Thailand? My dad taught me how to ride it, and my mum sat at the back of it while I drove on the beach and..” He sniffles, bringing up his hand to wipe at his eyes before turning away from you. “And then out of all people you ended up helping me fix it. You’re messed up, that’s-that’s not normal.” He mutters, in between quick and raspy breaths.

Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your eyes begin to tear up, too. You made Jungwon cry again. That’s twice. That’s one more than he’s done. Just when you thought you brought the old Jungwon back you broke him again. Seeing his shoulders shudder as he cries quietly into his hands has you clutching onto your chest tightly in hopes you don’t break, too.

“I’m sorry..” You whisper.

“You don’t get to say that!” He repeats, shouting into his hands. 

“But, I mean it,” you say a little louder, wiping away the tears that managed to slip out to keep your voice as still as possible.

Hastily, Jungwon turns back around, “No, you don’t get to say that because..” The dark haired boy brings down his hands to reveal his face. You’ve never seen him like this; eyes soaked and his nose red and swollen. “Because it should be me. And that’s why I’m so mad.”

“It should be you? Apologising?” You ask, unconsciously inching towards him, unaware of how close your bodies are.

His eyes wander around your face for a little while before he sucks in a deep breath, “Yeah, whatever.” Sniffling, he turns his head back to the view of the city. “Obviously, you only did that because of me.”

“No, Jungwon, that was something personal to you. I-I went too far.”

Taking you by surprise, he groans into his hand loudly before looking back at you again. “You didn’t know that it was personal!” He yells, forcing you to jerk your head back a little with wide eyes. “You didn’t know that because we don’t know each other! We don’t-!” His chest heaves laboriously as his brown eyes bore deep into yours. “We’ve known each other for so long, longer than Heeseung or Jongseong or..Sunghoon.” He mumbles the last part, his lips forming into a pout. 

“Yet we don’t know anything about each other?” You finish off his sentence, making sure to keep eye contact this time, because now is the time to let it all out. Now is the time for the two of you to confront the stupid situation you’ve trapped yourselves in for years. “I know,” You whisper, before pursing your lips, trying not to spill out every thought running through your mind right now.

You spot the way the shape of Jungwon’s eyes change from slitting to more rounded. They’re large and round at the front but pull out at the sides, similar to those of a cat. For some reason, his eyes are comforting. 

“Yeah..” He lets out a shaky breath. “All I know is that you’re this girl that lives across the street that has the most perfect life.”

You scoff, “Well, if you call bad grades and single-”

“You have parents that hug you every morning when you leave the house for school. You have friends that will stick by you even when you ask them to do something as stupid as break your neighbour’s bike.” You both chuckle at that bit. “You’re just.. I’ve always wanted to have that. Sometimes I think of what it would be like if I switched places with you.”

Naturally, you respond with, “Well, if you had to deal with a certain someone that makes you hate leaving your house everyday, I don’t think you’d want to be me.” You laugh at your joke, before noticing the way Jungwon’s face drops. Shit—he’s the certain someone. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No you did. That’s why you broke my bike.” He says firmly, and the urge to look away pushes through and you turn your head away from him. 

You should know by now to always expect the unexpected when it comes from Jungwon. Because the next thing you hear is a muffled snort followed by a soft laughter. Looking back at him, you’re perplexed. Was this a joke? Was this all just another prank? Does he really have no feelings? Are the police waiting at the bottom of the house to lock you away for years? 

Jungwon breaks into an even louder laughter when he sees your expression, resting his elbows on the balcony rail and burying his head into his hands to try and quieten himself down. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, shaking his head, “It’s just.. I was such an asshole to you. My bike getting broken was just karma if you think about it.”

“Are you saying you deserve it?” You ask doubtfully, scared you’re dipping into hot water.

“It feels like it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how shocked you were when I was being nice for once. Like, I was really that bad, huh?”

You join in on his laughter, “We shouldn’t be laughing about this.” You say, before taking another look at Jungwon and bursting into another fit of giggles with him at the same time.

This is weird. Your arms are bumping against each other, you’re laughing so much your cheeks and throat are sore, and you can’t stop gazing into Jungwon’s eyes as you both smile with each other. You know. You’ve known since Sunghoon told you that you think about Jungwon way more than you should. You’ve known since the first time your legs touched each other accidentally that day you were fixing his bike. You’ve known since the time you watched him happily munch away on your mum’s kimbap. 

You know exactly why your heart is racing right now. Racing for the idiot you’ve been hating since you were eleven years old. Racing for your so-called-enemy of six years. Racing for the guy that just laughed about how badly he’s treated you. You’re so dumb, catching feelings for someone like Jungwon. Your cheeks should not be burning right now. He’s just Jungwon, you try to remind yourself.

Buried deep in your thoughts, you didn’t even realise the two of you have stopped laughing. It’s only now that you notice Jungwon’s eyes flickering between yours and your lips, and that he’s steadily leaning towards you. If your heart was racing before, it’s sprinting down a freaking marathon now. You stay still, waiting to see (or feel) whatever happens next. You’re too scared to initiate anything in case you freak the boy out and he backs away. Because what reason would he have to lean in right now? What reason would he have to like you back?

What reason would Yang Jungwon have to kiss you?

All of your questions fly out of the window as soon as his lips latch onto yours softly. Letting out a little gasp, although you were already expecting this, your hand flies to the balcony rail immediately. This is your first kiss. You always expected it to be more romantic; on a date with a guy in the park, or under a sakura tree at school. You never thought you’d kiss someone a few minutes after watching them cry their eyes out.

His lips are soft, though, so you close your eyes to feel them more. A hand reaches the back of your head as he tilts his head, a shaky breath blowing into yours. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, giggling at how inexperienced you both are. You both pull away, and you’re a little disappointed at the lack of..well..kissing there was. You’re pretty sure your lips are actually supposed to move in a kiss. So, pulling on every string of courage you have, you place your hands on either side of his shoulders and pull Jungwon in for a second round. This time, you tilt your head and open your lips a little, your stomach filling with butterflies when Jungwon lets out a sigh of relief against you. His movements are gentle, and the tenderness of his small lips opening and closing within yours causes your head to spin a little. He’s a little too good at this, his thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your waist making you feel all mushy inside. 

You hate him. You hate how good he is at kissing even though it’s his first time.

Pulling away, you can’t help but cover your face. Jungwon giggles at you quietly, making your body heat up even more. You feel his hands clasp around your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, shoving his right in yours. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. His cheeks are bright red and puffed out, his lips are a little puffy and his eyes are rounder than you’ve ever seen them before. A genuine, really pretty smile sits on his lips as he speaks up again.

“We cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed.”

-

A/N | and that's a wrap! i'm ngl i dont really understand the hype for this fic i wish i did things a lot differently ahahah,, but u guys really enjoyed it and that's all that matters!

[ilyluffy-deactivated20240426]

𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛 || 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

summary: sometimes it feels like suna doesn’t care about anything, including you

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: mentions of exes, fighting, slight gaslighting

word count: 0.7k+

you’re pissed. suna can practically feel the boiling hot rage coming from you. facing problems wasn’t exactly suna’s specialty, so he remained quiet the entire ride home despite knowing what was going through your head. unluckily for him that only upsets you more.

suna still hasn’t said anything as you walk into the apartment. throughout suna’s life his solution was always just to avoid his troubles in hopes that they would go away. he was hoping for the same result with you, that you’d cool down once you were home but that wasn’t the case. this became clear when you slammed your keys down on the kitchen counter.

clearly suna isn’t going to bring up the topic himself so you have no choice but to start the conversation yourself. you try hard to not allow your voice to shake but unfortunately for you, you’re so angry that your self control has gone out the window. even you have to admit that you end up coming off as pathetic.

“s-so when were you going to tell me, huh?” you demanded, turning around to face your boyfriend. suna stares back at you with that blank expression he always wears. when you first got together you found his coldness somewhat enduring but right now it makes you clench your hands into fists. “say something!”.

the room is quiet for a moment before suna mumbles “it’s not that big of a deal”. scoffing, you throw your hands in the air before storming into the bedroom. sighing, suna stuffs his hands on his pockets as he shuffles after you. “i didn’t even know they’d be there”.

“oh please, it was the wedding of one of your closest friends. you’re going to tell me you didn’t know that your ex was on the guest list?!”.

for a second time silence takes over the room. eventually suna finally mutters in reply “fine, i thought that they might be there but what does it matter? they’re dating atsumu now anyway”.

“what does it matter?!” you pause changing out of the outfit you wore to osamu’s wedding to look back at suna again. “are you serious, rintarou? you should have given me a heads up, something! besides, for someone who's dating atsumu they seemed really interested in you. they talked to you the entire time. they even had the nerve to ask you to dance right in front of me!”.

“i told them no. atsumu didn’t seem to care so i don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of it. what do you want from me, [y/n]?”.

“i want you to stop invalidating my feelings!” you snapped.

at this point, suna is so frustrated that he even has to deal with this argument. he doesn’t think about his words before they come out. without even realizing he’s saying it himself, suna grumbled “you’re so dramatic”.

you’re not sure what’s worse. what suna actually said or the tone he used. annoyance drips from his voice, making it perfectly clear he finds your feelings irritating. you hate to say it but this has been a theme in your relationship. you’ve always cared about things much more than suna ever has.

date nights? you planned everything. anniversaries? suna claimed he didn’t see the point. meeting your parents? more than anything your boyfriend treated it like a chore. now you’re sad and feeling insecure and suna’s acting like you’re a headache. by now you’re filled with more devastation than rage.

when the tears build up in the corners of your eyes you know you’re only proving his point. so dramatic, crying over a few simple words but you’ve been holding in these emotions for so long.

this should be an i told you so moment from suna but even he knows he’s gone too far, despite all the excuses he’s made up to this point. “babe… i-“.

“get out” you order, cheeks soaked. “get out right now”.

suna opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly. without another peep he heads out of your bedroom. you’re right on his tail so you can slam the door shut once he’s out in the hallway. suna stands there for a moment before taking out his phone to dial aran’s number.

“hey man…” suna greets as soon as his friend answers the call. “mind if i come over? i screwed up”.

tags: @crybabylisa / @jahnvi-d / @little-miss-chaoss / @xspideyboyx / @manjiroarchiviste / @legramilis / @simp-lauren / @bontens-sweetheart / @inu1gf / @captainkjones / @kennyb0y / @sisnot / @portfolio-of-dreams / @dejwrites / @iwaizumisbicep / @dessceased / @aces-high / @p-antomime / @sugusshi / @wakasasucker / @whosarlet / @widepipepaladiknight / @levylovegood / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @fangirlsarah16

2022 © h-shibas — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome

[02chois]

Can u do a reaction of members where the reader is the one pursuing/courting them??? 💗😁 thank you thank you so much 😙

TXT REACTION TO YOU COURTING/PURSUING THEM

pairing: OT5 (separate) x reader

synopsis: what they think and how they'd react to you courting them + scenario and headcanons

word count: 2.1k words

content warning: it gets unhinged the more you read, non-idol au, cheesy dialogue and scenes

note: idk what I wrote and it took me some time to do this so I'm so sorry anon 😭 but I hope you enjoy, please tell me what you think! reblogs and feedback is appreciated 🫶🏻

SOOBIN

He's somewhat unaware that you're courting him and it doesn't help the fact that he's oblivious, too. So for him to realize that you're trying to court him, it would have to be something that doesn't require him to second guess. The only way for him to know is for you to be direct with him.

"You've been bringing me so much food lately," he says, opening the bento with a smile. "What's the occasion?"

Your lips form into a pout, folding the cloth that you used to wrap around the bento you made for him.

The frustrations you've felt came crashing down on you all of a sudden. It's either you tell him directly or he will continue to see your actions as nothing but kind gestures. You gaze up at him, watching him happily munch on the food. You find the way he would shake his head out of excitement endearing.

"You know, I've been courting you," you murmur, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

He completely stops and puts the piece of shrimp back on the bento, slowly placing the chopsticks down in case he drops it. Soobin tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He couldn't believe what he just heard.

"Really? Like the flowers and…" he trails off, the blood beginning to rush through his cheeks. The realization soon catches up; his face bloomed as if he was a rose, much more crimson than you have seen him ever.

"Oh."

Let's be real he won't even realize it until you say it directly because he doesn't want to assume

But the moment you do say it and he recalls everything you've done to court him? He's going to be so shy and he wouldn't dare look you in your eyes from how embarrassed he is :(

He won't even try to stop you because you've been courting him for so long and he feels bad that he didn't even realize it before, so I feel like he would do something to surprise you

You're so sweet to him too??? Like how could you be the sweetest person ever hjhcbdj

You're giving him a bouquet of flowers? Just get ready because bro is going to be so smiley and cover his face from embarrassment, but please believe it when I say he loves it so much :(( he has never received flowers before so the fact that you gave him one is such a big deal to him!! He might propose to you then and there ngl hHABSJAK

YEONJUN

He knew from the start but he's surprised how consistent you are. He never would have expected the amount of effort and time you put in courting him, he's flattered to know that you like him that much to put so much of your time on him.

"Do you want to eat, jjun? I heard there's a new food stand that just opened." You say as you walk beside him, already taking out your wallet to pay.

He frowns, though it was not because he didn't want to, rather he feels like he's taking advantage of you. "I'll pay this time. You've been paying for our food—"

"Ah, ah, we've talked about this, right?" The both of you stop in your tracks, halting in the middle of the hallway. "I'm doing this because I want to. I'll even buy you flowers soon," you give him a smile, "I want to let you know how much you mean to me."

Yeonjun avoids your gaze, bringing his hand to cover half of his face. He coughs out of embarrassment. Why are you so cute? He's not used to this. But you'd most likely say that he should get used to it, and you'd even do more than what you're already doing.

"I'll buy you all the food you want. Just tell me and I'll get them for you!"

His lips spread into a fond smile, linking his arm around yours and leaning his head against yours. "You spoil me so much."

Oh man he would be like ??? as you continue with your courting and don't get me wrong he's grateful for your efforts but he questions it

He's confused and also flattered but he lets you do your thing, but because it's not the societal norm and he hasn't experienced anything like this expect him to feel a little bad

But every time you buy him food, call him all kinds of pet names, support him in every single thing he does, and even give him random gifts, he's so close to spiraling from how flustered he becomes when you do those

He flirts back and gives you gifts as well, but whenever you remind him that you're courting him he shuts up— like almost immediately hbzshs like how dare you

You're the only one who could make him that much flustered and be proud of it!! You know his very few weaknesses and it's you

BEOMGYU

He's a little confused because you've already proven to him that you like him, and he thinks that you don't need to do such things to get him to like you because he very much admires you a lot. But since you insist, he lets you court him. He's honestly a little insufferable because he couldn't help himself but get this kind of romantic excitement whenever you do your thing.

"You wrote this for me?" Beomgyu blinked, amazed by your skills and the effort you put into making him a song. But what surprised him the most is the fact that you learned how to play it on the guitar.

Your lips spread into a smile, nodding your head. "Yeah, I wanted to put how I feel into a song," you pause, "I hope you liked it."

"Liked it? Are you kidding me, I loved it! Can you sing for me again?" He scooted closer to you, his hand brushing against yours. "I'll play the guitar. I just want to hear your voice again because it's so pretty."

"But seriously, making me a song? I never would've thought about that. You like me that much, huh?" He gave you a teasing smile, raising his eyebrows repeatedly.

You never wanted to wipe off a smile from his face until now. You roll your eyes, passing him your guitar. "Oh, shush, you're making it worse."

"If someone serenades you, you'd think they like them a lot. Don't you think so?" Beomgyu smiles, seeing you nod your head in agreement.

A whole ass smug mf and bro teases you a lot because of it, but don't be fooled because he's screaming on the inside

Ever wonder what he does whenever you send him a message that makes him feel all fuzzy inside? He does those schoolgirl thing wherein he buried his face into the pillow and screams his lungs out and kick his feet in the air

He's all for it after you let him know that you're doing it because you want to, so he's really down horrendous for you honestly

He giggles 😭😭 like full on giggle and bat his lashes whenever you come and take the lead in dates and bro is just nhcbejd hE'S SO CLOSE TO KISSING YOU BUT NO- He's not going to until he says yes into being your bf (he would say yes immediately)

Beomgyu would try to pretend he's cool about it and smile calmly, but it won't take long before he's slamming his hands on the table and smiling widely while laughing uncontrollably because he can't with you,, you're so cute and the way you court him is making him feel things and the butterflies are going crazy in his tummy

TAEHYUN

He would try to one up you because he doesn't want to take advantage of you, so expect him to do the same things you're doing. You're walking him to class? Well, he's going to walk you home. You're buying him food? He's already by your class door with food so no need to buy more.

"What are you doing?" Taehyun raised an eyebrow at you, watching your every move.

You have something behind you and you could barely cover it with your own body from how big it is, but still Taehyun couldn't figure out what you're holding— and that made you smile. He has no clue.

"You really don't know?"

He shook his head, you took that as your cue to show him your gift. And there you have a bouquet of flowers that you think he would like and a ribbon tied around at the end of the bouquet.

Taehyun froze. You really bought that for him? You shouldn't have but the bouquet is so pretty. The arrangement was beautiful, and it reminded him so much of you. He carefully takes the bouquet from your arms and lowers his gaze, his cheeks begin to feel a bit warmer now that he has it in his hold.

"Thank you, it's really pretty," his voice was low, soft enough that you could barely make out what he was saying. "Just like you."

Bro hE TRIES SO HARD TO APPEAR LIKE HE'S UNAFFECTED BY YOUR COURTING but please he's the one who loves it the most because it makes him feel so special

He makes those cute little noises, right? Taehyun makes those noises even when you're barely doing anything but it's his way of letting out his excitement in seeing you <33

But tbh as I said he tries to one up you- he's trying his best in letting his message across that he likes you a lot as well and courting you too BUT you're courting him so tHERE COULD BE ONLY ONE WHO COURTS WHO AND IT'S YOU

But fr tho he gets very very shy and blushy so please be nice to him <33 courting him in an old fashioned way will make him swoon trust me

At first he pretends he doesn't mind your courting. You'd offer to pick him up? Sure, he's going down. You showed up with a gift? You didn't have to. You wrote him poetry? Oh, so you're in love with him. But as it goes on, he's slowly breaking and his reactions become more obvious and blushy :((

HUENINGKAI

He's the only one who admittedly loves it from the start. I mean the other boys didn't dislike it, but some were hesitant because they're worried if they're taking advantage of you. Hueningkai, on the other hand, loved the way you'd treat him to lunch and be there by his side always. He's so fond of you that everything you do makes him smile and feel fuzzy inside.

Kai tilted his head as he spotted a sticky note on his locker and as he walked closer your name was written at the bottom. It doesn't fail to make him smile, you're always ahead and tend to surprise him with what you do. It's either a box of chocolates or a plushie.

He quickly unlocks his locker and there a penguin plush from build-a-bear sat there, the clothes it has reminds him of his own style— the adidas tracksuit and sneakers that he kept wearing.

He doesn't know whether he should laugh or what.

"You like my gift?" Your voice came from the other side, startling Hueningkai in the process. "It has a little voice thing, too! You can listen to it whenever you need some encouragement."

His lips spread into a grin, nodding his head. "The Penguin is a little bit too much like me. He's so peng."

"Peng Peng, Peng?" You play along, which Kai couldn't resist but let out a light chuckle.

"You're peng, too," he paused, "it means pretty by the way."

Precious Hueningkai, precious boy loves the attention you're giving him so expect his first initial reaction to you courting him to be extremely positive!! He's not surprised at all and he appreciates everything like seriously

He's also courting you in his own way, but it's a bit more subtle than the other guys. He's letting you stand out and lead the courtship because it's not something he experiences everyday

Expect to see him smile a lot :(( he's going to be such a ball of sunshine to you hsbbchsj things won't change much but he'd be more open to you in terms of his feelings <33

But I'm telling you right now that dude talks about you a lot and had talked to his parents, friends, siblings about you and they all know who you are and the fact that you're courting him so technically you're part of his family now

Overall he's such a sweetheart whdbjsks he doesn't get flustered easily bUT WHEN HE DOES OH MAN DOES HE GET SO SMILEY AND GIGGLY LIKE BRO WILL PLAYFULLY SMACK YOU CUS HE'S SO ?:!:??!??"??*