SYNOPSIS your new life was meant to be fun, new city, new job, new friends. But when the universe somehow places you in the same living quarters as your old crush Sim Jaeyun, things get a lot more complicated. You just want to move on acting like you never even knew him, but he’s determined to prove otherwise. While he knows for a fact you still like him, everyone else can’t help but think you’re just not into him.
LOG ; ❝ SHES JUST NOT INTO YOU ❞ ─── sim jaeyun & fem!rea ⭑.ᐟ summer romance / coming of age / smau + written ∿ contains ! lifeguard enhypen ꫂ Ot7───★˙ nainai’s library !!
NAIS CALLING ᭪ all the accounts done below are for a work of fiction, not the actual accounts. Please do not misinterpret; rather, clip out of context. This is purely for a work of fiction and for fun. I do not claim to know any of the members nor do i claim to be them.
jay loves to spoil you, even if you don't want him to
pairing: jay x reader || wc: 1.2k || cw: fluff!! established relationship, kissing, use of petnames, comfort(?), very lightly suggestive || warnings: none! || a/n: all thanks to this request!! oh jay </3
you and jay have been together for almost two years now, and one thing has never changed: your inability to accept gifts without feeling massive guilt.
it’s a sunny saturday afternoon when the issue comes up again.
you’re walking through the luxury department store because jay needed new shoes for an upcoming schedule. at least, that’s what you thought. somehow you’ve ended up in the jewelry section, and jay is staring at a delicate gold necklace with a small diamond pendant that costs more than your monthly rent.
“don’t even think about it,” you say immediately, grabbing his arm.
jay turns to you with that signature raised eyebrow. “why not? it would look perfect on you.”
“because it’s too expensive,” you whisper, glancing around like someone might overhear. “jay, that’s literally insane money for a necklace. i don’t need it.”
he sighs, the same sigh he always gives when you start this. “baby.”
“no. girl, no,” you insist, tugging his sleeve. “i already feel bad when you buy me coffee. this is way too much.”
jay looks at the necklace again, then back at you. without another word, he flags down the sales associate and says calmly, “we’ll take this one. and can you wrap it nicely?”
your eyes widen. “park jongseong.”
he just smirks and pulls out his card like it’s nothing. when the associate walks away, he wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you against his chest.
“you’re cute when you’re mad at me for spoiling you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“i’m serious,” you mumble into his shirt, cheeks burning. “i don’t want you wasting money on me.”
jay pulls back slightly so he can look at you. his expression softens, but there’s still that stubborn glint in his eyes. “it’s not wasting money if it’s for you.”
later that evening, you’re both on the couch watching a movie when a notification pops up on your phone. it’s a delivery update.
“jay… why is there a package coming tomorrow from that fancy skincare brand i mentioned once?”
he doesn’t even look guilty. “because you said your skin’s been dry lately.”
you groan and hide your face in a pillow. “i was just complaining! i was going to buy the small version myself!”
“the set is better,” he says simply, pulling the pillow away so he can see your face. “and before you say anything, no, it’s not a waste. you take care of me all the time. let me take care of you too.”
you peek up at him, lips pouty. “you already do enough.”
jay leans in and kisses the pout away. “never enough.”
the biggest fight happens two weeks later.
it’s your birthday, and jay has planned an entire weekend getaway. you only found out because he accidentally left the confirmation email open on his laptop. when you confront him, you’re standing in the kitchen with your arms crossed, trying not to cry from a mix of love and guilt.
“jay, a private villa? for two nights? that’s crazy expensive. we could’ve just gone to a nice dinner or something—”
“we can still do dinner,” he says, leaning against the counter, completely unfazed. “but i want to take you away. just us. no schedules, no members, no stress.”
you feel your chest tighten. “i don’t want you spending all that money because of me. it makes me feel bad, like i’m taking advantage—”
jay walks over and cups your face gently, thumbs brushing your cheeks.
“hey. look at me.”
you meet his eyes, blinking back tears.
“you are not taking advantage of me,” he says firmly. “you never ask for anything. ever. you always tell me not to buy you things. you get embarrassed when i pay for dinner. you even tried to split the bill on our first date, remember?”
you nod, embarrassed.
“so let me do this,” he continues, voice softer. “i work hard so i can spend it on the person i love. it doesn’t feel good when you act like my money is a burden. i want to spoil you. i like spoiling you. it makes me happy.”
you bite your lip. “but… it’s too much.”
jay smiles, that gentle, patient smile that always melts you. “it’s not too much. you deserve the world, baby. and i’m lucky enough to be able to give you pieces of it.”
he pulls you into his arms and holds you tight, rubbing your back slowly.
“please let me take you on this trip,” he whispers into your hair. “let me show you off. let me wake up next to you with ocean views and order you breakfast in bed. let me do this without you feeling guilty.”
you stay quiet for a long moment, face buried in his chest. then you mumble, “you’re really annoying when you’re right.”
jay laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest. “i know. but you love me anyway.”
“unfortunately,” you tease, squeezing him tighter.
the weekend at the villa is perfect.
jay keeps catching you staring at the beautiful scenery, the huge bathtub, the massive bed, and every single time he says, “stop calculating how much it costs in your head.”
you try to argue when he orders the most expensive bottle of wine for dinner, but he just raises his hand in that sassy way (the same one he uses with the members) and says, “babygirl stop.”
you end up laughing so hard you almost choke on your pasta.
on the last night, you’re both sitting on the private terrace under string lights. jay pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your waist, one hand resting protectively over your stomach even though there’s nothing there yet.
“thank you,” you whisper, playing with the necklace he bought you that’s now resting beautifully against your collarbones. “for everything. i’m… still learning how to accept it. but i’m trying.”
jay kisses your shoulder softly. “that’s all i ask. just let me love you the way i want to. money is just money. you’re priceless.”
you turn in his lap to face him, cupping his face with both hands. “i love you so much it scares me sometimes.”
“good,” he smirks, but his eyes are warm. “because i’m never going to stop spoiling you. get used to it.”
you groan playfully but lean in to kiss him anyway — slow, sweet, full of gratitude and love. jay kisses you back like you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world.
when you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.
“happy birthday, my love.”
“best birthday ever,” you admit softly. “even if you spent way too much.”
jay chuckles and pinches your side. “there you go again.”
you laugh and hide your face in his neck. “sorry. habit.”
“it’s okay,” he murmurs, holding you closer. “we’ve got time. i’ll keep reminding you until you believe you deserve every single thing i give you.”
and as the waves crash softly in the distance, you think maybe — just maybe — you can start believing him.
because with jay, love isn’t just words.
it’s him ignoring your protests.
it’s him rolling his eyes with a fond smile when you say “don’t waste money on me.”
it’s him whispering “too bad, i’m spoiling you anyway” right before he kisses you stupid.
Hii! Is there any chance that you have a good recommendation for a long Jake fic? I really want to read something but just can‘t find anything long enough 😓💔
YESSS !!!!
➤ complementary — the physics of your body , part two | jake loved physics as much as he loved you [ brothers best friend ]
➤ out of luck , part two | In which Sim Jaeyun becomes the only genuinely good, unfairly lucky thing that’s ever happened to you… and just like everything else in your life, good things have a way of slipping right through your fingers. So now you have to figure it out, fix it, or risk losing the only thing that ever felt right before you run Out of Luck [ roommates au ]
➤ anti hero | "You need to get laid," his roommates pointed out one day, ruining his perfectly planned college life. Thinking that his roommates were just looking out for him, Jake found himself in a world that he seems to be unfamiliar with — having a fuck buddy, and that's with a little help from you, Decelis University's "golden girl." [ friends with benefits ]
➤ volume 3 ☆ jake sim — the first love trope | you, a quiet girl who is the introvert of all introverts, never thought you would befriend the most popular boy in school by having the same music taste. what songs are you going to show him next? [ first love trope ]
➤ two peas in a pod | You love Jake, but believing you are a Beta who can never truly satisfy his Omega nature, you push him away only to realize during a dramatic twenty-first birthday presentation that you were his fated Alpha all along [ friends to lovers ]
➤ a real man | Jake Sim, son of one of the most wealthiest CEOs in Australia. Who also happens to be the man your parents set you to marry at 20 years old, and now—five years later, the father of your child. You and Jake have a..rocky relationship to say the least. The real question is, who’s going to be the first to break? [ arranged marriage ]
➤ the bet , bonus | Jake sim, one of the most popular boys in school makes it his goal to have you fall for him, a simple bet with his friends. Little does he know, he’ll be the one falling to his knees for you [ bet au ]
➤ the summer i got horny | nerdy sim jaeyun is sweating buckets when the baddie he's been crushing on sits in his lap on a two-hour road trip. [ friends sister ]
➤ AW SHIT, HERE WE GO AGAIN | IN WHICH jake keeps telling himself he’s fine with whatever this thing between you is, so he decides that a friends with benefits situation with his best friend's girlfriend's best friend, who also happens to be his other best friend's older sister, is a completely reasonable idea. until he wakes up alone for the nth time and realizes that this friends with benefits situation is not benefiting him at all. [ friends with benefits ]
➤ eat me up | in which jake knows you’re bad for him, but he just can’t help himself. after all, in the end, the answer is always you. nobody else matters. not even the guy you’re seeing, his friend, sunghoon [ friends with benefits ]
➤ give me tough love | Jake's always liked pretty things, and you're the prettiest he's ever seen. Another thing about Jake? He always gets what he wants [ omegaverse ]
➤ tension theory | You were just Heeseung’s girlfriend’s cousin—quiet, polite, a little too naive for your own good. Then you met his friends. Now you’re in the middle of a spiraling mess of jealousy, bad decisions, emotional whiplash and two boys who treat boundaries like suggestions. Oops. [ love triangle ]
➤ friction principle | You thought things would calm down after the confessions, the crying, the sex. After fists were thrown and secrets dragged out into the open. But Jake is still mean, Sunghoon is still quiet, and now you're still stuck somewhere in the middle—aching for something that feels like love but tastes like possession. [ love triangle ]
➤ preacher's daughter | in the early 2000s, in some small, rural town, your religious and restrained life collides with jake sim, who makes you doubt everything you know and want to explore more of the world [ outsider!jake x preachersdaughter!reader ]
➤ the fifth floor theory , part two | in which jake sim, the campus golden boy and star soccer captain, isn't supposed to find anything on the fifth floor of the library except a quiet place to study. but instead? he finds you, the wallflower who refuses to treat him like everyone else does. [ soccer captain!jake x wallflower fem!reader ]
➤ of all the people in the world | You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewon’s and Jaemin’s wedding in your mailbox, but you can’t help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things you’ve left unresolved after moving to Seoul—your aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy you’ve never let yourself love. [ childhood friends to lovers ]
➤ sunflower | You have lived in apartment 3B for two years. You know your neighbors the way you know background characters — familiar, unremarkable, just part of the scenery. Which is why it’s strange that you’ve never properly noticed the man in 3A. Until 6:58 on a Tuesday morning when someone knocks on your door and you open it to find not him, but her. Small. Round-cheeked. Duck pajamas. Absolutely certain of herself. You fall for his daughter first. Jake is just the complication that comes after. But god, what a complication [ single dad au ]
➤ things i know that i can't have | jake's life was hard enough before he fell for you—balancing uni, football, and being a good christian son. in some cruel twist of fate, sleeping with you has only made things harder—and, according to sunghoon (and scripture), damned him to hell the first time he thought about it. [ fwb to lovers ]
➤ under the table | you and sim jaeyun have been academic rivals for as long as you can remember, competing intensely to beat the other in every class you've ever shared. for years, you've hidden your feelings for him, burying them deep down where jake can't find them, and you're hellbent on ensuring he never discovers your secret [ academic rivals to fwb to lovers ]
➤ bruises [ strangers to implied lovers ]
➤ manchild | you’re trouble, and jake sim knows it. you flirt like it’s your job, wear sin like perfume, and make men beg without even trying. he’s the only cowboy who doesn’t chase you. so naturally, he’s the only one you want. [ cowboy jake ] this fic changed the trajectory of my life no cap 🤞🤤
➤ RULE NUMBER 1: DON'T FALL IN LOVE | your ex getting a girlfriend after just two weeks of breakup was enough to infuriate you to the point where you had to step up and make him regret breaking your heart. solution? fake date his best friend and make him jealous! [ fake dating ]
➤ Love, Lies, and Sim Jake, part two | You were the quiet girl with the not-so-quiet crush on Jake Sim—campus heartbreaker, smooth talker, and everything you should’ve stayed away from. But when a bet turns your name into a game, the rules change fast. He didn’t expect to fall for you… and you didn’t expect to find out. Now it’s your move—and this time, you’re not playing nice. [ campus heartbreaker ]
➤ call me when you hate me less | Jake Sim was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect lips. But between late night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout, and honestly, it could go either way. [ enemies to lovers ]
➤ off limits, part two, part three, epilogue | your older brother has always told you “no boys” and his friends “sister is off limits”, which always worked until everyone comes back home from college and you see how grown up his best friend has become [ brothers best friend ] this was soo fucking good, read this in one sitting , peak 🔛🔝
➤ just one more taste | Jake considers himself the luckiest man alive. After turning his deepest breeding fantasies into reality, filling you raw night after night until you were pregnant again and again, he built the big, perfect family he always dreamed of. With the family complete, he finally slips a ring on your finger vowing forever to keep you happy, adored, and being the man who’d give you the world just to see you smile. [ impregnator jake ] just smut
➤ the great valentines heist , part two | jake sim has been your best friend your entire life–even longer if you count the months spent in your mothers’ wombs. your moms (also best friends) have been hoping, praying, and not-so-discreetly begging for you and jake to be a couple for as long as you can remember. after eighteen years of dealing with it, you’ve had enough. you pitch your solution to jake: pretend you finally are a couple, only to prove the point of how you’re better off as friends. but as the line between what’s real and what’s fake blurs, you start to wonder… are you really? [ friends to lovers ]
➤ frenzy , part two | Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.
➤ loyal puppy | Ever since your boyfriend Jake transformed from his nerdy high-school self into the university's star football player, you've become everything you thought you’d never be. Jealous. Anxious. Clingy. But Jake really doesn't mind your newfound possessiveness. He encourages it, even. So when he defies expectations again to star in a musical with a stunning costar, you spiral. Now, the “lowkey” relationship you once insisted on gets jeopardized under the weight of your own insecurities. [ secret!relationship au ] anothee one of my favs , im going to re read it :p
➤ no doubts | struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you. [ idol jake ]
Well helloo againnn!! So like 2 days ago i thought of an idea and I thought you'd be perfect for it! So i want you to make a serie (or not it's ur choice) and it's basically poly idol enha x underground/5 bucks and a dream singer/rapper/soloist fem reader! But here's a twist so basically reader is married to all of them (I thought it would be unique) and basically they like react to her (music,edits,etc etc) in a video or a live and like one of her mvs has like a male idol and they get like jealous and shit (feeding my delusional ass) so yeah that's pretty much it ! 🥹
- tyyy ~ !
Undercover
Pairing : ot7 poly enhypen members x wife soloist reader
Genre : fluff, secret relationship, jealousy
Synopsis : Y/N is married to seven incredible idols. Seven wonderful husbands. And seven very jealous husbands… During a live stream, Engenes ask them to react to her new MV (without knowing their relationship), and the boys have to hide their jealousy when they see another man getting way too close to their little wife. How will Y/N handle their jealousy when she gets home that evening?
Y/N was a very famous soloist in the world of K-pop. She excelled in rap and could also sing like the best idols of her generation. She had never shown her face, and no one knew what she looked like. Yet, her music brought together millions of people on every tour and filled entire stadiums.
She often wore masks during her concerts or fan meetings to hide her identity. The good thing about that was that she could go out on the streets peacefully, no one recognized her!
But that wasn't the case for her husbands. She had known the Enhypen boys for almost five years and had been secretly married to them for a year. You might say a relationship with eight people wasn't common, and that was true, but Y/N was their life, their safe place, and no one would take that away from them.
Few people knew about their relationship, aside from their families and a few people at the agency. Otherwise, whether it was her fans or Engenes, no one suspected a thing! Of course, it wasn't hidden that Enhypen admired Y/N as an artist, the boys often recommended some of her songs. But Engenes couldn't imagine they were a couple.
The group decided to do a group live, something they hadn't done in a while, apart from solo lives. The idols answered many questions, also talking about their upcoming comeback, which Y/N secretly supported.
"Can you react to Y/N's new MV that came out today?" Jungwon read.
"It came out today?" Jake exclaimed. "I thought it was tomorrow!"
"Let's do it!" On the tablet they were reading comments on, Heeseung went to YouTube to bring up the young woman's channel. They crowded together to all see the screen as the oldest started the video.
Y/N had released a new rap track, mixed with a very dark R&B melody. Of course, her face was constantly masked, though it revealed part of her hair, which was dyed red for her comeback. The agency she was under was pretty cool with what she could do, so she had a lot of freedom.
"Wow, noona is so pretty," Ni-ki smiled.
"That's my favorite song, okay," Jay declared.
"You say that every time," Sunghoon exasperated, rolling his eyes. Jay bumped him with his shoulder, and they bickered before Jungwon called them to order.
They made a few comments here and there during the MV before going very quiet. Y/N had just appeared on screen for a choreographed part, close to a dancer. Too close for their liking. How dare this guy put his hands on her waist or even smile at her? That right was exclusively reserved for them!
Sunoo bit his nail without taking his eyes off the screen, the others vainly contained their jealousy. A clearing of the throat from the staff off-camera reminded them they were live and had to control their expressions.
"I really like this sound," Heeseung smiled, though it was forced.
"Once again, Y/N-nie did not disappoint us!"
They cut the video and then exchanged a few more words with Engenes before ending the live. The boys were silent for a moment before the staff announced they could go back to the dorm.
Y/N wasn't there when they got home, she was still at her agency filming content. They went to take showers, as if that would soothe them, and then settled in the living room to wait for their wife.
Jay was in the kitchen preparing the meal when Y/N came home, exhausted from her busy day in addition to her MV release. "Hey, my loves!"
She entered the living room, dropping her purse on the coffee table, collapsing between Heeseung and Ni-ki on the couch. She sighed, letting her head fall onto the maknae's shoulder, happy to finally be home. "I'm exhausted, I have no energy to do anything."
"How was your day?" Heeseung asked, taking her hand in his.
"Pretty good. Except I had to spend the morning redoing one of my backtracks because the intern accidentally deleted it, and I had practice in the afternoon."
"We saw your MV," Sunghoon informed her.
Y/N opened her eyes again, sitting up, smiling at hearing that. "Really? How did you find it? I was a little worried it wouldn't be liked because it's the first time I've done this kind of music, so I didn't want to disappoint the fans."
"Baby, you didn't disappoint them, it was incredible," Jake reassured her. "You are incredible."
"Thanks, Yunie. So you liked it?"
"We liked it, but why was that fucking dancer so close to you?" Jay said. "Did he have to stick to you like a leech?"
"You are my leeches, not him," she refuted with a smile.
"Darling, seriously," Jungwon sighed.
She frowned, folding her legs under her, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know it's just acting, right? It was just for the choreography. And the guy was super rude because he left without saying goodbye. If I wanted a lover, I'd at least take someone with manners."
"Very funny, noona," Ni-ki muttered, collapsing onto her. She giggled, welcoming him into her arms and sliding her fingers into his damp strands.
"You're just jealous."
"We're not jealous," Heeseung retorted.
"Yes, you are! It's cute."
"Princess, we're not cute, we're sexy," Sunghoon countered.
"You're dramatic! Good thing I love you."
"What does that mean?!" Y/N didn't answer, laughing as she jumped off the couch and ran into her room, the boys on her heels.
sorry to be a broken record every month but christ menstruation is a stupid concept. oooooh excuse me for not getting pregnant, why the fuck is there goo falling out of me about it? grow the fuck up and reabsorb that shit for nutrients.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ heeseung x 𝒇 ! reader x jungwon.
after 7 minutes in heaven , you stuck so so close to heeseung , one thing lead to another and you wanted to find a room to continue what had happened . little did you know someone was following you into the room !
𓋰 MDNI pure smut 3some dom heeseung switch won sub reader reader gets overstimulated early voyerism masturbation (m) oral (f rec) p in v unprotected sex double penetration mlm kissing multiple orgams mean heeseung dirty talk objectification squirting slight nipple play spit and drool messy blanking out after sex bi hee + won they LOVEE to use your clit so much slight dubcon creampie 5411
pt 1 | pt 2
this is lowk a 2k special , still !!!!!!!!!!!! thank you guys so muchmuchcmuhc!!!!
as the party went on, you lingered around heeseung. sitting on his lap as the games went on, you could feel your dripping pussy leak on to him. you followed him around as he went to grab another straight red cup of tequilla.
you stoood by him, rocking back and forth on your fear as you watched him pouring the drink with a sharp precision. the rough of his hands slightly shaking as he set down the glass, before naturally coming to relax on your hips.
his free hand handed you a cup, dark eyes flickering towards yours in the orange light of the kitchen. a slow smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, voice a low rumble meant only for you over the bumping music. "you're making such a mess, you know." the hand on your waist was creeping down against the back of your bare thigh, a light touch sending a fresh pulse to your core. "we should… probably find a place to clean you up." he mumbled, words filled with promise as his finger slowly collected the slick between your folds.
you mindlessly let out a moan, grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the furthest room you could find from the loud party. a soft shlicking sound escaping you with every step you took, mind too clouded to even realise heeseung was smirking at someone. that someone followed you both.
the room's door clicked shut, muffling the bass into something mumbled. your back met the cool wood, and heeseung's mouth met yours before you could even take a breath. his hands, the ones that teased you in the kitchen, now gripped your hips, hauling you up as if you weighed nothing, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist.
he carried you towards the bed in three long strides, falling with you in a tangle of limbs and frantic kissing. your world filled with his scent, his taste, and the rough drag of his shirt against your arms.
"so messy," he breathed against your neck, teeth grazing the pulse of your neck. one hand slid between you, his fingers finding your drenched pussy, collecting the previous cum he had inside of you, rubbing torturous circles against your clit.
you let out a sharp cry, lips bruised from biting. you arched into his touch, back lifting off the dabric as you fisted your hands in his hair.
through your clouded mind, you had heard it. not the party, but another sound. the soft, delicate turn of the doorknob.
a small sliver of light from the hallway cut across the room, before it widening. yet, heeseung didn't stop. if anything, his fingers became faster and more possessive, his body covering yours, as a low grow vibrated in his chest.
yet, his head turned, just slightly, and in the dim light of the doorway, you could see the person. you could see heeseung smirk at him, one slightly dark.
"took you long enough," heeseung whisteled, his voice thick and heavy, doused with arousal and a type of amusement.
standing in the doorway, his silhouette highlighted by the hall, was jungwon. one who fumed with jealousy, who almost busted down the door when he heard you guys in the closet, who saw heeseung's cum leaking down your thighs when no one else did. one who is currently standing in the door way with a raging boner.
a slow huff filled his face as he looked at the scene infront of him: you pinned down onto the bed under heeseung, skirt flipped up and face dishevelled and breathless, all while heeseung's rough fingers rubbed your clit in was you couldn't.
"long enough?" he gritted, taking a step in and closing the door with a quiet, but click sound. no one could stop you three now.
heeseung groaned with rolling eyes, finally pulling back his fingers from your hard clit, bringing them to his mouth, eyes locked on yours as he tasted you. "could've came into the closet when we fucked." he laughed, turning around to glare at jungwon.
he took another long stride into the room, movements deliberate, as proof his own arousal was impossible to ignore. he wasn't looking at heeseung, but looking at you. the smear on your leg, the way your chest rose and fell, the slight glisten of your slick on the bed.
"and join you? puh-lease. rather have that pussy for myself." he groaned, palming his pants as he shot a glare at heeseung, talking about you as if you weren't even there.
"like you could make her squirt." he teased, turning around so his fingers could shower in your wetness, rubbing circles once again.
jungwon's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching against his skin. the deliberate taunt in heeseung's voice and touch had provoked him. he never looked away from you, his gaze hot and scorching. hand moving up and down his clothed pants.
"you think this is about you?" jungwon's voice was rough, as he took another step the space between him and the bed shrinking. his attention was on heeseung's taunts and mocks, atleast not directly. yet it was on you, on your wet pussy, on your relentless breaths, on the mess against the bed of some random person's house.
he let out a groan at his touch, as he watched heeseungs relentless fingers. the fuel in his eyes burning, before he gave in. kneeling on the bed, between your legs. pushing away heeseung's fingers out of raw jealousy and need.
"jungwon—" you gasped, squealing as soon as you felt the heat of his mouth against your cunt. he didn't answer, nor did he look up. he just ate you like it was the best thing he had ever tasted in his life.
where heeseung touch had been playful and jungwon's was the opposite, one claiming and possessive. his mouth was desperate and focused, like he had been waiting to have a taste for years. his hands gripped your thighs, just hard enough to bruise, pinning you to the mattress.
in his mind, this wasn't just for pleasure, but to erase any memory of heeseung. any touch that wasn't his.
you let out a moan as you felt his teeth graze against your clit, hips bucking against his face as your fists tightened in the bedsheets. his fingers flexed against your thighs, eyelids half closed.
he let out a low, possessive sound, one that vibrated against your clit and ran straight to your mind. your mouth opening wide, without any sounds that would escape it. only just silent plea's and whines.
admist all of this, heeseung watched from his new position, leaning back against his elbows. his eyebrows raised as he watched how your back arched, how jungwon's tongue moved against you, how you rutted against his face and how jungwon's hips grinded against the bed.
there was amusement in his eyes, ones that glinted in the dim light. he'd been pushed aside, but was never dismissed. his hand slid from his abdomen, down to the pants he wore. his calloused fingers sneaking past the waistband of his sweats and boxers, thumb sliding over the slit of his cock with a shiver.
"see?" he laughed, voice shaking, his voice carried through the both of your ears. "told you he couldn't just watch— fuck. he had to get in here."
under jungwon's greedy, focused mouth, you were unravelling. your body twitching like a plea as his tongue flattened against your cunt. his grip was iron and possessive, one that made you even more wetter and hornier.
and heeseung's voice, fuck. it felt addicting, like he was the one eating you out instead.
you could feel more than jungwon's reaction, a low growl that vibrated directly into your cunt, a possessive answer to heeseung's taunts. he didn't stop; if anything, he sped up. two fingers slowly entering your hole, making you scream, as if to prove a point, to erase heeseung's touches.
but he could never be erased. the soft sounds of his own hand moving were ringing in your ear, pace matching the wet, frantic sounds jungwon was producing from you. his gaze was heavy, the thought of sharing you between both of them, it almost made you cum on the spot.
"look at him," heeseung panted, his own arousal thick in his voice. "can't stand not being the one making you melt. but he's just… warming you up for me, isn't he?"
with a groan, one muffled by your cunt, jungwon pulled back just enough, his chin glistening, eyes dark as they locked with heeseung's over the curve of your body.
"do you ever shut up?" jungwon snarled, voice ragged. his thumb pressed a relentless, perfect circle against your sensitive bud, one that made you jolt up. "all you can do is watch. and touch yourself like a pathetic—" he cut himself off with a sharp inhale as he watched you clench around nothing, chasing his mouth.
heeseung's laugh was breathless, groans escaping his lips as his hand slowed down. "i'm enjoying the show. but you're the one on your knees for her. so tell me, jungwon, whos really the one winning here."
jungwon snarlled at his words, his thumb's pace quickening by the second against your cunt, riled up by heeseung's words. "yeah? i am, i'm the one eating this delicious cunt of hers" jungwon replied.
the room felt hot all of a sudden, your body between them overwhelming to the point that a small bead drops formed on your forehead.
heeseung's hand, forgotten on himself, stilled entirely. his focus had narrowed in on the way jungwon's thumb moved, a maddening and practiced motion against your slick skin, and the desperate shallow rolls of both of your hips trying to chase an orgasm.
"delicious?" heeseung echoed, voice dropping into a low taunt. he had shifted closer, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat near jungwon. his knuckles brushed your inner thigh, the touch of a ghost compared to jungwon's. "you're describing her like shes a four-course meal, but that's because you're starving, aren't you? look at you, practically humping the mattress."
and it was true. jungwon's composure and ego were slowly fracturing. the previous jealous touches he'd use with his tongue were now gone, replaced by a raw urgency. his breath hitched each time you clenched, a visible tremor in his hand.
"shut… shut up," jungwon gritted out, lacking its previous fire and fight. his protest was swallowed, not by himself, but by heeseung. his index finger and thumb gripping jungwon's chin, and their lips crashed against each other.
jungwon let out a startled noise, which was muffled against heeseung's plump lips, the kiss wasn't gentle, but sloppy. their tongues moved in sync as jungwon closed his eyes, letting out a sound of arousal into heeseung's lips.
heeseung's other hand remained on your thigh, grounding a point of control as his mouth moved against jungwon's with a devouring intensity. he was tasting the desperation of you, but also jungwon, drinking the taste of his fractured ego. jungwon, for a split second, stilled, the shock holding him still. then, with a brown sound that was a mix of a moan and a groan, he broke. his free hand came up to clutch at the fabric of heeseung's shirt, not the push away, but to anchor himself as if he'd run away
the movement on your clit had stuttered, then changed. it was no longer jungwon's perfect rhythm. but had become something more of a subconscious echo of the kiss, a slow, deep circle, then a frantic press, then a pause as heeseung had bit at jungwon's lower lip.
heeseung pulled back, just enough to speak, lips glistening and breath mingling with jungwon's. his voice was a velvet rumble that vibrated the tense and hot air between the three of you in the guest bedroom.
"see?" he murmured, eyes locked with jungwon's dazed ones. "starving. just for her. for anything that feels like this." his knuckles traced higher agaisnt your thigh, an invasion of space with jungwon's touch. "you wanted to prove you can make her come? then do it—"
your lips turned into a pout at the sight of them. the lack of attention on you making you more needier and hornier (not to mention the sight of them making out next to you). you let out a loud whine, kicking your legs slightly to grab their full attention to you.
heeseung's smile vanished, completely cleared by your whine. the previous heat between him and jungwon all gone, replaced by a cold sharpness. he didn't look impressed; he looked annoyed.
"did i fucking say you could interrupt?" he asked, voice dropping, now sharp enough it could cut through paper. his grip against your thigh and jungwon's chin tightened as a warning. his eyes dark and devoided of warmth, slid from jungwon's dazed face to your pouting one.
"you're kicking, just like a spoiled brat who isn't getting her way." he released jungwon's face with a dismissive shove, making the younger boy rock back slightly, thumb removed from your clit making you whine louder.
in one swift motion, heeseung's hand came down against your bare pussy, not to caress it, but a sharp sting bloomed. the sound cracked through the air.
"want our attention? then earn it, be good." he leaned in, face so close you could feel the iciness radiating off of him. "you're a mess. jungwon's a wreck trying his best to please you, and you're pouting?"
he glanced at jungwon, lips curling into a smile. "look at her, this is what you've been starving for? a brat who can't even wait her turn?"
he shifted his weight, planting a knee firmly between your legs, own body physically pushing jungwon to sit behind him, asserting dominance over the space and your body. over the both of you. he didn't touch you with any sort of gentleness. his thumb pressed harshly against your clit, a brutal pressure meant to overwhelm and punish, not to arouse.
"you want to come? then do it. now. on my command. not with his pretty little touches. like this," he grounded the heel of his palm down, the motion devoid of any type of love, but of pure arousal and anger. "show me you can be good. show me you can take what you're given without throwing a tantrum. or… i'll stop everything, and you can spend the night remembering how to behave, while jungwon and i go find someone else."
the air left from your lungs as he finished his words. this wasn't just a competition or the attentino you wanted from before. this was just cruel. heeseung's knee was a metal bar between your thighs, his body a whole wall separating you from jungwon. the brutual pleasure of his thumb wasn't seeking your pleasure, rather it was demanding submission.
behind him, jungwon made a sharp, almost wounded sound. he blended into the shadows, witnessing the scene infront of you, one that practically came out of a porno. you could hear the heat of his body, hear the ragged breathing, soft squelching of his hand up and down his cock, but heeseung had blocked him from your eyesight, from touch.
the threat hung in the air, colder than the sweat on your skin. find someone else. the words didn't promise denial, but erasure. a replacement.
you let out a scared whimper, one raw. your hips tried to tear away from a punishing pressure, yet heeseung's weight pinned you down, making any escape impossible. tears of frustration prickled at your eyes.
"n-no, please," you choked out, the word breaking in your mouth. it wasn't directed at anyone, just a plea tossed into the heated air.
heeseung's eyebrows furrowed mockingly, lips going into a cooing pout. he leaned closer, breath fanning your cheek. "that's not an answer, baby. that's you begging. i dont want you to beg, i want you to listen." he increased the pressure, something deliberate and cruel that made you cry louder. "come. now. or this ends."
it was impossible, the pleasure had been coiling and building under jungwon's soft rubs. now it was just a storm of overstimulation and pain, your body jolting and tensing all at once.
jungwon's hand shot out from behind heeseung, wrapping his fingers around heeseung's wrists, not to pull him away, but to hold him, to make him slow down, drawing out your orgasm for longer. his voice was a shattered whisper against the back of heeseung's head. "hyung, she… she can't…. you're hurting her…"
heeseung didn't even glance back. "she can," he hummed, voice terrifyingly calm and aroused. "and she will. or she'll learn what happens when she wastes my time." his eyes bored into yours. "last chance. prove that you're worth the trouble, worth our cocks."
your vision blurred, sensation turning into a single point of focus, his fingers, the weight of his hand, the emptiness of his threat. it threw you over the edge.
with a final, shuddering gasp, your body, betrayed itsself. your body convulsed, it wasn't the sweet released you had hoped for, it wasn't like the one jungwon had tried to coax you to. it was a sharp, numbing release. one that sent a rip through you, back arching off the bed with a sob and tears rolling down your face. your oragsm flew from your pussy onto both heeseung and jungwon's hand on his wrist.
it left you trembling, thighs shaking against his grip. hot tears and sweat traced down your temple.
heeseung watched you with a precision like no other. slowly, deliberately, he had removed his hand. he didn't look satisfied, rather he looked like it wasn't enough.
"good," he murmured, words flat. he shifted his weight back, finally freeing you from his grip. only to sit behind you, bringing you up so you could sit on his lap, back flushed against his chest as you faced jungwon. "see? she just needed some of the right motivation." he nibbled your earlobe softly, eyes never leaving jungwons.
jungwon ran a hand through his hair, a glint of sweat catching his forehead as you saw his ruined state. hand still glistening from your slick, lips kiss-swollen, his eyes wide and dark in awe, frustration and relentless want.
"look at her," heeseung mocked, voice vibrating against your spine. his hand splayed over your stomach as the other bunched your skirt against your waist. "she's perfect like this, all sensitive and open. just for us. like the perfect fleshlight."
jungwon swallowed hard, adam's apple bopping up and down. his gaze traveled all over you, from your tear-streaked face, to your heaving chest, to the way your legs were spread open in heeseung's lap, waiting just for him.
"but watching her cum wasn't enough, was it?" heeseung continued, tone shifting from flat to something challenging. one of his hands slid down from your stomach, fingers tracing an idle, teasing pattern until he reached your flaps, spreading them open with two fingers to present you to jungwon, making you twitch with oversensitivity. "you got here close for me. but you didn't get to feel it, did you? you just got to watch it happen. just like a kid with his nose against the bakery window."
his eyes watched jungwon's own, how jungwon wasn't looking at heeseung, but at your glistening pussy. how jungwon's jaw had tightened, his earlier submission flickering away with a more competitive jealousy once again.
"fuck you," jungwon muttered, unbluckling his pants, allowing them to hit to the ground, revealing his boxers and the wet stain against them. "really, heeseung, trying to provoke me?" he laughed, slipping his hand to push down the waistband of his boxers, revealing his leaking cock. it looked more girthier than heeseung's thats for sure.
heeseung's lips curled into a slow, triumphant smile at jungwon's words. the insult, it was exactly what he wanted. the flicker of submission now gone, replaced and burnt away by something more hotter and violent.
"provoke you?" heeseung echoed, voice a husky murmur against your temple. fingers still holding you open, giving a deliberate, subtle press against your hole, a silent reminder of his control. "i'm just stating facts. look at you, already leaking for her. you've been hard this whole time, from the circle, to eating her out, to watching me finish her, but getting nothing for yourself. it's honestly pathetic."
he shifted you slightly in his lap, angling your hips upward, making jungwon's gaze even more explicit. or maybe it was so that jungwon could put his dick in you faster. "but you're right. talking is cheap." his eyes dropped to jungwon's leaking cock, a flicker of something unreadable, acknowledgement maybe? or maybe his own arousal, passed through his gaze. "so stop complaining, and do something about it. unless you'd rather just stand there and prove my point, wonnie."
the challenge hung in the air, the nickname made jungwon hitch. he wasn't just giving premission, but a dare. something to try and insult jungwon, pressuring him. heeseung's arms had loosened from your waist, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider for jungwon.
and jungwon didn't wait. he leaned in, landing a kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself as he slowly guided his cock to your fluttering heat. a groan and moan escaping both of you. the sound that tore from jungwon was pure relief, a deep shuddering groan that vibrated against your lips as he finally sank into you.
heeseung's hands on your thighs were iron clamps, spreading you open, making the fit more painful and burning, more exposing. you were displayed just for jungwon, and even heeseung as he watch jungwon sink into you.
jungwon broke the kiss, forehead dropping to yours as his breaths became hot puffs. his compusre einterly gone, now turning into millions of pieces of primal want and need. his hips began to move, not with the frantic shallow rolls, like his tongue did, but with deep, possessive thrusts, as if trying to reclaim and forget heeseung was even there.
"s—see?" jungwon gritted out, words meant for heeseung, though his glazed eyes were locked onto the part where you both connected. "i can… i can make her feel.. feel it." his claims were proven by each punctuated deep thrusts that stole air from your lungs, drawing a broken and high sound from your throat.
heeseung's eyes narrowed as he watched, his own breath hot and steady against the side of your neck, expression was one of intense satisfaction. he had orchestrated this, he knew jungwon liked you as well, he knew jungwon was most likely fisting his cock outside the closet, he knew jungwon was watching you both in the kitchen. his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, not just holding you open, but guiding the angle for jungwon.
"mhm, prove it." heeseung murmured, voice dark. his lips brushed your pulse point. "don't just thrust. make her beg for it. make her forget anyone else had ever touched her." he was pouring gasoline on the fire of jungwon's jealousy.
jungwon's eyes fluttered close for a second before he felt a muscle tick in his jaw. once they opened, the hunger in his eyes was terrigying and intense. he captured your lips once again, kiss messy and consuming, swallowing every singly one of your whimpers. his pace doubled its efforts, the deep, strokes giving way to a faster more desperate rhythm.
everytime he thrusted into you, you bounced into heeseung's lap, feeling his boner against your ass. you could feel how he wanted twitch, how he wanted to fuck you as much jungwon did.
his hands travelled from your thighs to underneath your shirt, pushing down your bra to pinch your nipples, twisting them softly. your eyes shot open with a loud, desperate moan.
"f—fuc—" you muffled against heeseung's lips, tears once again returning and falling down your cheeks. you could feel your orgasm approaching at the feeling, only to cum as jungwon landed one particularly hard thrust that hit your cervix.
your back arched away from heeseung's chest, ass grinding backwards against his cock, a loud grunt escaped heeseung's lips. and that was his final straw, he needed to be inside you now. his hands quickly let go of your perked nipples, and slipped down the pants he wore along with his boxers, his cock hitting the bottom of your ass and pussy.
"hope you're ready," he grunted, his mushroomy tip catching your hole, pushing up slowly. jungwon's hips slowed down, but never faltered, allowing heeseung to fill you up along side him.
"nonono—" you groaned, eyes widening as you could feel your hole and walls get stretched. and it stung, the feeling almost making you feel too full. it was too much, you swore you were going to rip into two. the world narrowed into a hot point of overwhelming sensation.
jungwon stilled at your words, breatch catching in a sharp gasp as he felt heeseung pressing up into the shared tight space. a deep graon was torn from his throat, a sound of pure intensity.
heeseung's own control shattered at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls. his forehead dropped to your shoulders, as he let out a string of low, filthy curses from his lips as he sank in fully, your bottom finally pressing against his lap and, by extension, against jungwon's own girth.
"fuck," heeseung breathed out, the word shuddering through his whole body. he stayed there for a long moment, letting you — both of you — adjust to the impossible stretch. his hands clamped on your hips, his knuckles white.
"look at her, won." he gritted out a laugh, his voice rough against your shoulder, he forced his head up, eyes locking in with jungwon's own possessive yet clouded gaze. jungwon looked wrecked and possessed, he could feel everything. how your walls twitched, heeseung's veins on his cock, the way his own cock twitched, everything. "feel that? that's me. in her. with you."
he began to move, not giving you anytime to breath, it wasn't a frantic pace, but a slow roll of his hips. a deep, claiming piston that shifted you against jungwon with every single thrust. the friction was everywhere, a chain reaction of pleasurable pain that coiled in your tight belly.
"fuck, n…now," heeseung stuttered, his voice broken, as he set into a brutal, inescapable rhythm. "you move— with me."
jungwon's breath hitched, and nodded. a broken, soft moan escaped him as he met heeseung's upward thrusts with a inward rock of his own hips. the synchronization clumsy at first, before it set into a perfect rhythm built from desperation. heeseung filled you as jungwon pulled out to the tip, and thrusted in as heeseung pushed out as much as he could. repeat.
the sound was obscene, the sounds of slick, wet slide, the slap of skin, heeseung's grunts and jungwon's groans, mixed with your own cries and whimpers, torn between pleasure and the feeling of being split in half.
heeseung's hand was everywhere, gripping your hips, palming your breasts, teasing your nipples with a flick of his fingers, threading into your hair to push your head sideways, teeth biting and nibbling against your skin.
as jungwon's lips met yours, the kiss wet and messy with spit dripping down both your chins. a hand snuck down to your gummy, hard clit, rubbing harsh up and down motions, before pressing against your stomach, which had two clear bulges of the both of them. how their thrusts moved against your walls and skin.
"you can take it," he snarled against your neck, thrusts growing deeper and more demanding. "you take both of us. every inch." his eyes dark and feral, found jungwon's own hungry eyes. "and you… you feel me. everywhere. remember this, remember who let you have this."
you could feel everything, the shift of pressure in you, the filling stretch that was borderline too much, the twitch of their cocks. the distinct shape and rhythm of them, heeseungs deeper measured rolls and jungwon's quicker, sharper thrusts felt too much. it became an overwhelming friction that had you sobbing into jungwon's mouth.
heeseung's hand slid from your hair, down your throat with a squeeze, coming to rest beside jungwon's on your lower stomach. his fingers pressed in next to jungwon, and you both could feel it. the impossible, undeniable press of them moving inside you, faint outline of their cocks present beneath your skin.
"you feel that?" heeseung growled, voice ragged, his lips were against the shell of your ear, but his words werent for you, but jungwon. "thats what you wanted, right? to be here, to be fucked?"
jungwon broke the kiss with a shattered gasp, his forehead falling to the opposite shoulders of heeseungs. his hips stuttered, his control long gone as he stared down at where their hands met on the plane of your belly.
"i…i can't—" he choked out, not in a protest, but in a slight surrender.
"you can," heeseung insisted, own breath coming in a harsh wind. he tightened his arm around you, thrusts becoming powerful and guiding, setting a pace that jungwon was forced to follow. "you will. together with me. for her."
with a small nod, jungwon let out a quiet sound that was mixed with a sob and a moan as he continued to thrust, giving it his all to match with heeseung's own speed. eyes watering as he felt heeseung twitch against him.
jungwons had travelled back to your over stimulated clit, letting out harsh circles, pressure intense. heeseung's hips stuttered, a signal he was going to cum any minute, and so were you. with three final sharp thrusts, the both of them came deep into you.
a groan escaped their lips, as you could feel the hot seed shoot deep into you, making you whine. jungwon's fingers never faltered against your clit, until you felt it. your eyes shot open and mouth hung open as saliva trickled down. your pussy spasmed against his fingers, and harsh stream of liquid had shot out of you, right onto both of their cocks which softened inside of you.
"f—fuck—! oh… god…" you wailed, the sound raw and voice cracking. the squirt seemed endless, a release that left your body convulsing and trembling.
for a long moment, the only sound of the room was ragged breathing, tree different ones that clashed and merged in the humid air. the scent of sex, salt and sweat was over powering.
heeseung was the first to move, his arms, which had been holding your back against him, loosened to a more softer embrace. he let out a slow, breathless laugh against your neck, the sound rich with awe and satisfaction.
"look at that, baby." he murmured, his voice hoarse. his eyes heavy-lidded, dropped to where you all were still connected, the evidence of your orgam's leaking onto the bed. "you've covered us in your, sweetheart."
jungwon, still slumped against you, his froehead on your shoulder, let out a shaky exhale. his fingers finally stilling, soaked from yout squirt, pulled away as he looekd down, his own eyeslid heavy. the competitve fire, now gone and replaced by a daze. he looked up from the mess to your wrecked and fucked-out face, and slowl, a wrecked smile touched his swollen, plump lips.
"hyung," he breathed out, the words full of awe, as his eyes were glued on your face, before glancing up at heeseung.
heeseung's hand came up, brushing a fresh tear away from your check. "i know," he said softly, answering jungwon. his eyes met jungwon's over your shoulder, a silent communication between the two of them. before pulling out softly, jungwon following.
a large seep of cum had escaped your pussy, drooling down onto the bed as you lay there, body twitching occasionally, making the both of them coo at the sight.
"so cute," jungwon muttered, grabbing the boxers that he had left on the floor and slid them up your legs, your thighs twitched at the fabric against your clit before your eyes had closed, mind blank and dark.
heeseung let out a soft laugh, before turning to jungwon and kissing his lips, this time more softer and more tender than the first time.
"lets do this more often, wonnie." he murmured against his lips.
"yeah…"
｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ @hoonsocks @gyuzies @ewstain @haruawya @strawberrykkk1 @nanilis @renwon @yvampyr n anyone else on that tag list….
written for the heart’s mailroom event ! ༊
⌗ in which . . . you’re just cleaning the studio when your boyfriend, lee heeseung, walks in, and completely crashes out at you over something you never even realized had become a war zone
流星 ໑ . . producerbf!heeseung ⋆ fem!reader
⌗ includes . . . smut (18+), established relationship, angst, emotional conflict, miscommunication, hurt & comfort, heavy language, hate sex, angry sex, emotional breakdowns, crying, arguments, literally just crashing out, unprotected sex (don't), penetrative sex, riding, creampie, oral sex (f. receiving), aggressive kissing, rough intensity, post-conflict reconciliation . . somewhat ➜ intended for mature audiences | minors do not interact ♡ purely a work of fiction, none of this reflects reality | wc: 7.4k
⟶ mentioned ⋮ all members of enha !
♪ el’s bubble: sorry to everyone involved, including me! requested, thank you so much, and apologies for this being ass, which is addressed above too HJAWJHAJ please enjoy — likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply appreciated on here ♡
now playing . . . talk to me by keshi
The shared condo was a truce, an uneasy alliance forged over a complicated lease agreement and a mutual understanding that neither of you could afford the rent alone.
The rest of the apartment, with its neutral palette and carefully demarcated zones, hummed with a fragile peace.
But the studio was a warzone.
It was a silent, methodical battleground where territorial instincts flared with the precision of a well-oiled machine.
Heeseung had never said anything about it at first. He would simply come home after long days, a faint crease settling between his brows as he quietly returned everything to its proper place. The unplugged interface would somehow be connected again by morning. Misplaced folders would be reorganized with exacting care. You would notice your samples untouched exactly where you left them, your workspace restored without a word from him. No complaints, no confrontation, only those small corrections that somehow managed to sit under your skin longer than any argument ever could.
At first, you told yourself you didn’t belong in that room. You didn’t work there. You didn’t touch his equipment. You didn’t have any reason to step inside. Still, you kept ending up there anyway.
Not to make music. Not to interfere.
Just to clean.
It was never planned. You would walk in for something small, then notice everything at once. A dust layer on the console edges. A mug left too long on the table. Cables resting in a way that made your fingers twitch. You would fix one thing, then another, until your hands settled into a rhythm that felt more natural than stopping.
Your mother’s habits followed you into the room without permission. If you start, you finish. If it is messy, it needs to be corrected properly. You had never questioned it. Order made things easier to breathe in.
So you cleaned. And when you finished, you always felt the same quiet satisfaction, like the room had finally been allowed to settle into itself.
The problem was that Heeseung always noticed.
And he always changed it back.
The first time you realized it was deliberate, you had finished a full clean of the studio after he left for the day. Nothing dramatic, just small adjustments. Dust gone from the keyboard. Chairs aligned. Cables coiled neatly and tucked away. Even the scattered sticky notes had been arranged into a stack instead of left across the desk.
You stepped back and studied it for a moment. It felt right.
The next morning, it did not look the same.
The chair had been angled slightly off again. The cables were no longer coiled your way. The sticky notes were separated, placed back into what you assumed was his own system. Not messy, never messy, just different enough to make your effort feel erased.
You stood there longer than you meant to.
Of course he would do it like that, you thought. Precise enough to feel intentional without ever being openly hostile.
“You changed it again,” his voice came from the doorway.
You didn’t look at him immediately. “I cleaned.”
A pause followed.
“It was already clean,” he said.
That made your jaw tighten. “It was not how it should be.”
You finally turned. Heeseung was still by the door, jacket in one hand, expression unreadable in that familiar way that never gave you enough to argue against properly.
“How it should be,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
He looked past you at the desk, scanning it like he was mentally undoing every decision you had made. Then his gaze returned to you. “You always say that.”
“It is true.”
“No,” he said, calm and certain. “It is your version of true.”
The words landed heavier than they should have.
You looked back at the studio, at the way everything now sat in silent disagreement with itself. “It looks better this way,” you said anyway, quieter now.
Heeseung stepped further inside, stopping near the desk but not touching anything.
“It looks the same,” he replied.
Neither of you moved to fix anything after that.
One Tuesday afternoon, the city outside was a muted blur of rain, streaking down the glass in uneven, tired lines that never seemed to reach an end. Inside, the studio sat under the cold wash of LED strips, everything too precise, too still, like even the silence had been arranged on purpose.
Heeseung was out at a meeting he had complained about earlier, leaving behind a space that always felt controlled even when no one was in it. Nothing ever looked abandoned in here. It just looked paused.
You came in already irritated.
The mixing session had gone wrong in a way that stuck under your skin. Every adjustment made it worse. Every correction felt like proof you were missing something obvious. So you stopped trying to fix sound and started fixing everything else instead.
Cleaning. Always cleaning.
It started small. A pen nudged back into alignment. A cable straightened. A mug moved away from the edge of the desk. Nothing dramatic. Nothing worth thinking about. Just control in places where sound had refused to obey you.
Then your body moved on its own.
The studio had its own logic. You followed it without questioning it anymore.
That was when your hand brushed against the guitar.
It leaned against the wall like it always did, placed carefully, almost reverently, like even its position had rules. You recognized it immediately. A 1978 Gibson Hummingbird. One of his most guarded possessions. One of the few things in this room that never changed placement unless he allowed it.
You picked it up. Not carefully in the way someone afraid of breaking something would. Carefully in the way someone who already knew its weight would handle it.
The wood was smooth under your fingers, worn in a way that suggested years of being protected rather than used carelessly. You adjusted your grip without thinking, lifting it slightly to move it back to its stand.
For a moment, you just looked at it.
The grain caught the LED light in layered patterns, dark and deep, like something preserved too perfectly to feel lived in. It looked expensive. Untouchable. Like it had never been part of anything messy.
Your thumb shifted along the back.
Then you felt it.
Wrong. Small. Certain.
You froze.
Your fingers tightened slightly as you tilted it closer, angling it under the light.
A crescent-shaped dent near the curve. Not deep, but enough. Enough that it should not be there without explanation.
Your stomach tightened.
What the hell?
The thought came immediately, sharp and uncomfortable.
He was not just careful. He was obsessive about it. Everything in this room had structure because he enforced it. Nothing stayed damaged. Nothing stayed out of place. Not unless something had gone wrong when no one was looking.
You turned it again. Then again. Like the answer might appear if you looked at it from the right angle.
It did not.
You were still holding it when the door opened.
The sound made your shoulders jerk slightly.
The air changed first. Rain. Cold. Then something familiar underneath it that you had stopped wanting to name too quickly.
Heeseung stepped inside. Damp hair. Tired eyes. That expression he always wore when the world had worn him down too much and he was trying to hold the pieces together anyway.
His gaze moved through the room automatically, then stopped the moment it landed on you. On the guitar. On your hands.
Everything in his face tightened at once.
“What are you doing,” he said. Not loud. Not yet. But sharp enough that it cut clean through the room.
You flinched before you could stop yourself.
“I found this, Hee,” you said quickly, lifting the guitar slightly like it was evidence. “There’s a… dent. I’ve never noticed it before. Do you know how it happened?”
He didn’t move closer. That distance made it so much worse.
“You found it,” he repeated slowly.
A short breath left him. Almost a laugh, but not quite.
“Of course you did,” he said. “You always find things after they are already ruined.”
Your grip tightened immediately.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you shot back. “I didn’t ruin anything. I just picked it up and saw it.”
But he was already shaking his head, like the conversation had stopped being about facts.
“It is always something with you,” he said, voice rising slightly now, control slipping at the edges. “Something moved. Something is missing. Something broken. And it is always after you have been in here.”
Your chest tightened hard.
“God, I did not touch your guitar,” you said louder. “I am telling you that I literally just saw it right now while I was cleaning.”
He exhaled through his nose, frustration sharpening into something colder.
“You do not notice anything until it becomes a problem,” he said. “Then suddenly you care.”
That hit wrong. Immediately. Deeply.
Your voice cracked when you answered.
“I do care,” you said. “I am… I’m trying to understand what happened here.”
He stepped forward once. Not close enough to touch. Just close enough that the space between you felt smaller.
“Listen, Y/N, you don’t ever listen,” he said. “You just walk in here like a ghost and change things and expect it to be better.”
That word landed heavier than anything else.
Ghost.
Your fingers trembled slightly around the guitar.
“A ghost?” you repeated, voice low now.
He did not stop.
“Fuck yes,” he said, more blunt now, like he had already passed the point of holding it back. “A ghost that keeps rearranging things like it knows better. Like it has a right to everything in here.”
Your throat tightened.
“Hee, please, that’s not what I’m doing,” you said, but it was starting to break apart.
He scoffed slightly.
“You don’t even realize it,” he said. “Stop being such a bitch! You come in, you change everything, and then you disappear again. Like you were never here. Like nothing you do stays!”
Your breath hitched.
“That is not true,” you snapped.
But your voice shook too much for it to sound convincing.
He shook his head again, sharper this time.
“It’s so god damn suffocating, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t leave space for anything! Not even silence. You just fill it with whatever you think is right.”
That word snapped something loose in you.
Suffocating.
Really?
Your hands tightened hard around the guitar before you lowered it quickly, like you could not stand holding it anymore.
Your voice rose before you could stop it.
“Then stop letting me in!” you shouted. “Stop letting me in here if I’m so fucking suffocating!”
Tears were already there, breaking through faster than you could control.
“You act like I’m just some fucking problem you can never seem to get rid of!” you continued, shaking now. “It’s as if I’m just this ghost you can blame everything on!”
The word ghost came out sharper this time, like it stuck in your throat on the way out.
“A ghost that tries to make things easier for you sometimes,” you said, voice breaking, “a ghost that leaves you notes you ignore but still follow, a ghost that just found a dent in your precious fucking guitar and is trying to understand it because she actually gives a shit about what you care about, you asshole!”
Your breath shattered on the next words.
“A ghost that is right here, Heeseung! Not some fucking problem floating around your studio!”
Silence hit after that.
Immediate. Heavy.
He stopped completely.
Not slowly. Not like he was thinking. Just stopped.
His expression shifted in pieces. Anger fading first. Then confusion. Then something worse. Recognition.
He saw you properly.
The tears. The shaking hands. The way you were barely standing still.
And then he heard what he had said through your voice instead of his own.
Ghost.
Suffocating.
His mouth opened slightly. Nothing came out.
The anger drained out of him so fast it looked almost like shock.
The guitar suddenly felt too heavy in your hands again. It didn’t even belong to this moment anymore.
You placed it back against the wall with stiff, uneven care.
Your breathing was broken.
He said your name.
Quiet. Wrong.
You shook your head immediately.
“No,” you said, voice wrecked but steady enough to cut through. “No, no, no, just stop.”
“Y/N, I didn’t mean—” he started, stepping forward slightly.
“You always mean something,” you snapped through tears. “That’s the problem. Everything you say has a reason that still ends up hurting me!”
That stopped him again.
Completely.
You reached for the door handle with shaking fingers.
For a second, you just stood there, forehead almost against the metal, trying to breathe through the pressure in your chest.
Then you turned your head slightly. Not enough to face him. Just enough for him to hear you clearly.
“Fuck you, Heeseung,” you said, voice breaking at the end.
The words were spoken with a quiet intensity that was far more devastating than a scream. Then, you opened the door and walked out, letting it close behind you with a soft click that echoed like a gunshot in the suddenly empty studio.
The condo felt too quiet after you left.
Not the kind of quiet that settles naturally after an argument fades out, but the kind that feels imposed, like the space itself has gone rigid and is refusing to participate in time anymore. Even the rain outside sounded different now, less like weather and more like something indifferent happening in another world that no longer included you.
Heeseung stood in the studio doorway for a long time without moving. His body was still in the posture of the argument, shoulders slightly tense, jaw tight, like if he relaxed even a little the entire sequence of what just happened would catch up to him all at once. Your last words did not echo through the room, they simply stayed, sharp and intact, refusing to lose shape.
The anger that had carried him through the confrontation drained out of him too quickly, not softening but collapsing inward, leaving something exposed underneath. It was not clarity at first. It was discomfort. The slow realization that nothing about what he said could be reinterpreted into something less damaging. He had called you suffocating. He had called you a ghost. And worse, it didn’t even sound like a metaphor at the moment, it sounded like a conclusion.
That thought settled into him in a way he could not shake off by rationalizing it. It did not matter anymore what he intended. It only mattered what you heard.
Eventually, he turned back into the studio.
The air inside felt unchanged at first glance, but that was only because the damage was not visible in obvious ways. It was in the alignment of things. The chair was pushed back a few centimeters too far, not messy enough to notice immediately but wrong enough to register once you did. A cable had been wrapped with too much care, the kind that suggested someone trying to make leaving easier for themselves. The desk surface had been cleaned in sections instead of a full reset, like focus had kept breaking apart mid-task.
On the desk, your cleaning things were still there. A spray bottle placed upright. A microfiber cloth folded into a square so precise it looked almost intentional beyond utility. A small container of wipes sitting beside it, unopened in a way that suggested interruption rather than abandonment. Nothing about it looked like you had left in anger. It looked like you had left in the middle of existing.
He picked up the cloth without thinking about it.
It was soft in a way that made no sense for something so simple, slightly warm still as if your hands had only recently let go of it. The texture brought an unnecessary amount of awareness with it, like even something as ordinary as fabric could now carry a trace of timing. He turned it once between his fingers, then again, then stopped because the motion felt pointless, like repetition could not fix anything anymore.
Across the room, the guitar sat exactly where it always did. The 1978 Gibson Hummingbird.
It hadn’t changed. That was literally the problem. It looked untouched by the argument, unaffected by anything that had just split open between you. The dent near the curve was still there, small and crescent-shaped, barely noticeable unless you already knew where to look. But now it felt louder than it had any right to be, not because of damage, but because of everything it had been attached to in the last hour.
He stared at it longer than he meant to. Not examining the dent itself, but the way it now existed in his memory, tied to your hands shaking, your voice breaking, the moment you stopped sounding like you were speaking and started sounding like you were trying not to fall apart.
His grip on the cloth tightened without intention, knuckles tensing slightly before easing again. The body reaction came before thought, like his system was trying and failing to undo what had already been said.
The rain outside intensified, pressing harder against the window, filling the silence with something steady and relentless that did not ask for permission to stay.
Then the studio door creaked open again.
He looked up immediately, too quickly for it to be calm.
You were standing there. Not fully inside yet, just at the threshold, like the room had become something you had to decide whether to re-enter rather than simply walk into. Your eyes were still faintly red, but dry now, your expression carefully controlled in a way that suggested you had rebuilt yourself on the walk back and were holding it together through effort alone.
You stepped in anyway. Not hesitant, not rushed. Just deliberate.
Your gaze did not go to him first. It moved through the room in measured passes. The desk, the chair, the guitar, the small evidence of your presence still left behind like you had not fully finished being here. Then your eyes briefly landed on the cloth in his hand before moving away again without reaction.
“I came back for my things,” you said flatly.
The tone was even, but it was not neutral. It was contained in a way that made it clear nothing in you was open for interpretation right now.
He stood up immediately, still holding the cloth like he had forgotten it was there.
“Y/N,” he started carefully, his voice lower than before, like volume alone might undo something else, “we need to talk about what I said.”
You did not look at him. You went straight to the desk. “No,” you answered instantly, not loud, just absolute.
You began gathering your cleaning things with a precision that felt almost practiced. Spray bottle first, placed carefully into your bag. Microfiber cloth next, folded again even though it was already folded. Wipes last, unopened container sliding into place like it belonged there more than it did on the desk. Every movement was controlled in a way that made it clear you were not giving your body any space to react.
He took a step forward, then stopped halfway, as if crossing a certain distance would turn this into something worse. “I was wrong,” he said quietly. “About how I said it.”
You gave a short breath through your nose that was not amusement and not relief, just restraint. “Do not,” you said without looking up.
His brow tightened slightly. “Don’t what?”
“Do not adjust it,” you replied. “Do not soften it. It does not change what it was.”
Silence settled again, heavier this time because there was no longer momentum carrying the conversation forward.
You folded the cloth once more even though it was already perfectly flat, pressing the edges down like alignment could substitute for stability. Then, almost clinically, you added, “Mahogany and rosewood are generally considered moderately difficult to steam bend. It depends on species, grain orientation, and proper compression technique.”
You paused just briefly, then glanced at him without fully facing him. “So it is fine,” you said. “Structurally. Nothing catastrophic.”
He blinked once, slow. “That is not what I meant,” he said, quieter now, like the volume had started to fail him.
You nodded slightly like that response was expected. “I know,” you said. “You meant me.”
That landed differently in the room. It removed ambiguity completely.
His expression tightened, not in anger this time but in something that looked closer to discomfort, like hearing his own thoughts reflected back in a way that was harder to escape. “You’re twisting it,” he said, but there was less certainty in it now.
You finally zipped your bag. The sound was small but final in a way the argument had not been. “Huh? I’m not twisting anything,” you replied. “I am just repeating what I heard.”
A pause followed that, long enough for the rain to feel louder again.
You slung the bag over your shoulder. Your posture remained controlled, but there was something strained in it now, like holding yourself upright was starting to take effort. “It is fine though,” you added. “I understand it now.”
He frowned slightly. “Understand what?”
You looked at him properly for the first time since you came back. Your expression did not change much, but your eyes carried something distant, like you were speaking from slightly outside yourself.
“Ghost,” you said simply.
The word made the room tighten.
You continued, voice still even but increasingly detached, “A ghost that rearranges things. A ghost that only matters when something is wrong. A ghost that shows up, fixes what is inconvenient, and disappears again like it was never there.”
His grip on the cloth tightened again without him noticing, then loosened as if his hand could not decide whether to hold on or let go of something that had already slipped.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said immediately, but it came out slower than before.
You nodded once. “I know,” you said. “You just said it anyway.”
The silence that followed did not feel empty anymore. It felt crowded.
You moved toward the door. Not quickly. Not hesitantly. Just done.
He stepped forward immediately, like instinct took over before thought could catch up. He did not grab you yet, just positioned himself in front of you, blocking the path without fully intending to.
“Y/N,” he said again, but this time it cracked slightly at the edges, “don’t leave like this.”
You stopped. Not because you wanted to. Because you had to.
You looked at him, expression still controlled but now visibly worn down. “Like what?” you asked.
His mouth opened, then closed again. Nothing came out fast enough.
And that hesitation did more damage than anything else in the room.
Your voice stayed quiet when you spoke again. “Move,” you said.
He did not.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly now, like the words had finally caught up to the situation. “I shouldn’t have said that. I did not mean it the way it sounded.”
You let out a slow breath, eyes lowering slightly. “I know,” you said again.
A pause.
Then, softer but sharper in meaning, “You just meant it while you were angry.”
That made his face shift, something cracking through the restraint he had left.
“I didn’t mean it at all,” he corrected immediately.
You nodded once, almost resigned. “But you said it anyway.”
The rain outside hit harder against the glass.
He spoke again, quieter now. “I’m so sorry.”
You looked at him for a long moment without changing your expression. Then your eyes shifted slightly, like you were deciding there was nothing left to extract from this.
“I know,” you said.
And you turned toward the door again.
He moved before he fully processed it. His hand caught your wrist just before you crossed the threshold. Firm enough to stop you. Not enough to hurt.
"Ew, get your hand off of mine."
"Ew?"
"Yes, ew, back the fuck off."
Heeseung's hand stays exactly where it is. Wrapped around your wrist. Thumb pressed into the soft skin just above your pulse, where the vein flutters like a trapped bird. The studio is now dark around you both — just the glow of the monitor casting blue shadows across his sharp jaw, the tangled fall of black hair over his forehead, the hard set of his mouth.
You try to pull away. He doesn't let go.
"I said back off." Your voice comes out steady, cold. "You're not deaf, Heeseung. I know your ass heard me."
He heard you. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. But he doesn't step back. He steps forward.
One step. Then another.
The space between you evaporates until you're pressed against the edge of the mixing desk, the metal lip biting into your lower back through your thin shirt. He's close enough that you feel the heat rolling off him, smell the faint ghost of his cologne clinging to his skin after just thirty minutes of being locked in this fucking studio. Close enough that your nose almost brushes his when you tilt your chin up to glare at him.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
He doesn't answer with words.
His free hand comes up, fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of your neck, and then his mouth is on yours.
It's not soft. Teeth and tongue and the wet slide of lips moving together like he's trying to devour you. Like this is a fight and he's already won. Your brain screams at you to push him away, to bite down, to bring your knee up between his legs.
Your brain has always been smarter than you.
Your lips part before you can stop them. A small, broken sound escapes your throat, and he swallows it. His tongue slides against yours and he tastes like coffee and mint and something darker, something that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.
Your hand fists in the front of his shirt. You're supposed to push him away. Instead, you pull him closer.
You hate him.
You literally hate his ass.
But your body doesn't care about the things you tell yourself at night when you're alone and trying not to think about him. Your body remembers every time his hand has lingered a second too long, every look that cut a little too deep, every word that meant something else entirely.
You break the kiss first. Gasping. His mouth chases yours for half a second before he stops himself.
"I fucking hate you."
He smiles. It's a slow, cruel, gorgeous thing that makes your stomach flip. His thumb traces across your cheekbone, featherlight.
"I know."
He kisses you again. This time his teeth catch your lower lip, tugging hard enough to sting, and the sharp pulse of pain shoots straight between your thighs. You moan into his mouth and you hate yourself for it. For the way your hips tilt forward. For the way your fingers tighten in his shirt.
He pulls back an inch. His lips are wet, his eyes dark and half-lidded.
"Say it again."
"I hate you."
He kisses you harder. One hand still tangled in your hair, gripping, controlling. The other slides down your side, palm flat against your hip, fingers digging into the curve of your waist.
"Again." His mouth moves to your jaw, your throat. Teeth scraping against the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Say it."
"I hate you." It comes out breathless. Broken.
He pulls back far enough to look at you. His eyes rake over your face, the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips are already swollen, the defiance that still flickers in your gaze. His thumb brushes across your lower lip.
"You're so beautiful when you lie."
He drops to his knees.
Your heart stops. The air leaves your lungs in a rush. He looks up at you from the floor, dark eyes catching the blue light from the monitor, his mouth wet and red from kissing you. He doesn't say a word. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls, and you let him.
You let him.
Because you're a fucking liar and you've never hated him. Not once. Not ever.
He presses his mouth to the inside of your thigh, just slightly beneath the rough denim, and your knees buckle. He doesn't stop there. He kisses his way up, slow and deliberate, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel how wet you are, can feel the slick heat pooling between your legs.
"Stand up. Put your foot on the couch."
You do it. Without thought. Your boot lands on the leather cushion beside you, and he makes a sound of approval that vibrates against your skin.
"There you go." His fingers work the button of your shorts open. The zipper rasps down. "That's my good girl."
"I'm not your anything."
"No?" He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls your shorts down your thighs, slow, letting the denim catch on the curve of your hips. "Then why are you letting me do this?"
"I'm not letting you do anything."
"Then stop me, pussy."
You don't.
He pulls your shorts down to your knees. Your underwear goes with them. The cool air of the studio hits your bare cunt and you shiver, and he makes a sound, low and hungry, at the sight of you. At the slickness already gathered between your thighs.
"Fuck. Look at you."
"Stop looking."
"I can't." His thumbs trace up the inside of your thighs, spreading you open. "You're so wet. So fucking wet for me."
He doesn't wait. He puts his mouth on you.
The first lick is broad and flat, from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and your vision whites out. Your hand flies to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, gripping. He does it again. Slower. His tongue circles your clit once, twice, before he sucks it into his mouth and you cry out, back arching, the sound ricocheting off the studio walls.
"Fuck—Heeseung—"
He hums against you. The vibration travels through your entire body, settles deep in your bones. His tongue fucks into you, stretches you, tastes you, and then slides back up to your clit in a rhythm he knows by heart.
He knows your body. That's the worst part. He knows that the way you're gripping his hair means you're close. He knows that the little hitch in your breath means he should press harder. He knows you.
You hate that he knows you.
You come on his tongue with a cry that's half moan, half sob. Your hips grind against his face and he groans, holding you steady, working you through every pulse and shudder until you're shaking and oversensitive and pushing weakly at his shoulders.
He surfaces. His mouth is slick. His chin is wet. He looks up at you like you're the only thing in the world worth seeing.
"I fucking hate you, such a bitch," you whisper. Your voice cracks on the last word.
He laughs. Low. Dark.
"Get on top."
You blink. "The hell?"
"You heard me." He stands, pulling you with him. He sits back on the leather couch, legs spread, and his hand finds your hip, guiding you until you're straddling his lap. His cock is straining against his jeans, a thick, obscene pressure against your bare cunt. "Show me how much you fucking hate me."
Your hands are already working at his belt. The buckle clinks open. The button pops. The zipper slides down with a rasp that sounds impossibly loud in the quiet studio. He lifts his hips and you push his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, and your mouth goes dry.
He's big. Thick. Curved slightly to the left. The tip is flushed dark and slick with pre-cum, and it twitches under your gaze.
"What's wrong?" His voice is a dare. "Scared?"
You answer by wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, guiding the head to your entrance, and sinking down.
The stretch is immediate. Full. Your walls clench around him as he fills you inch by inch, and his head falls back against the couch, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise.
"Fuck—yeah—"
You take all of him. Until your thighs are flush against his. Until he's buried so deep you feel him in your throat, in your spine, in the spaces between your ribs. You pause there, breathing hard, adjusting to the feeling of being so completely full.
Then you move.
Slow at first. A roll of your hips that makes stars flicker behind your eyes. His mouth falls open. His hands tighten on your waist.
"That's it."
You do it again. Harder. You find a rhythm, a brutal pace that makes the leather couch creak beneath you. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt, and you ride him like you're trying to punish him.
"That's it. That's it, baby. Show me how much you fucking hate me."
You lean forward. Your mouth at his ear. Your hips grinding down in a slow, torturous circle.
"I hate you."
You slam down harder. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room.
"I hate you."
Harder. Your thighs are burning. You don't stop.
"I hate you."
His hands find your hips, guiding you, meeting your thrusts with upward snaps of his own. The angle shifts and he hits something inside you that makes your vision blur. A spot so deep, so perfect, that your rhythm breaks.
"Right there—don't stop—"
He doesn't. He fucks up into you, relentless, while you ride him like you're trying to destroy each other. The sounds, wet and obscene, skin slapping against skin, the muffled groans you can't hold back, fill the studio. His breathing is ragged. Yours is desperate. It's ugly and raw and the best thing you've ever felt.
"That's it. That's my good girl. Hating me so good on my cock."
"Shut up."
"You know I won’t, loser."
You lean forward and kiss him. It's messy. Teeth and tongues and you bite his lower lip hard enough to taste copper. He groans into your mouth and his hips stutter.
"Fuck—just like that—"
You're close. You can feel it building, that coil of heat tightening in your belly, spreading through your thighs, making your movements sloppy and desperate.
"Come on." His voice is wrecked. "Come on my cock. Let me feel it. Wanna feel you come all over me."
You do. You come with a broken cry, your walls clenching around him in wave after wave, and he watches you fall apart — eyes dark and fixed on your face, mouth open, chest heaving.
He flips you.
You don't see it coming. One second you're on top, the next you're on your back, legs pushed up toward your chest, and he's driving into you from a new angle that steals whatever breath you had left. His forearm presses against your thighs, holding them open, and he fucks into you deeper than before.
"Shit—Heeseung, oh my god—"
"Shut up." His voice is raw. His eyes are dark and unfocused. His hips move in a desperate, punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. "Just take it—"
You do. You take every inch of him, your hands gripping the leather beneath you, your moans turning into wordless cries. The angle is everything. He's hitting that spot with every thrust, over and over, and you're climbing again before you've even come down.
His hand slides between your bodies. His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight, wet circles that have you clenching around him again.
"I'm gonna—"
"Come with me." It's a command. A plea. His voice breaks on the last word. "Fuck—I'm gonna—fuck—"
His eyes roll back. His mouth falls open in a perfect O. And he comes with a groan so loud it bounces off the studio walls, hot and thick, pumping into you in deep, shuddering pulses. You feel it. You feel every spurt, every twitch of his cock inside you, and it drags you over the edge with him. Your orgasm rips through you, your walls milking him, taking everything he gives.
He stays buried for a long moment. His forehead drops to your shoulder. His breathing is harsh and uneven against your skin, his heart hammering against your chest.
When he finally pulls out, you feel it. The warm trickle of his cum sliding down your thigh, dripping onto the leather beneath you.
You're both silent. The only sounds are your ragged breathing, the hum of the studio equipment, the distant city noise filtering through the windows.
He lifts his head. His hair is a disaster. His lips are red and swollen. His eyes are still dark, but there's something softer in them now. Something that makes your chest ache.
"Say it again."
You open your mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because you don't hate him.
You never did.
And he knows it.
Heeseung sees the exact moment realization settles into your expression. The way your eyes flick away from his immediately after, like looking at him too long suddenly feels dangerous now that everything between you has been stripped down this far.
The softness in his face shifts into something almost unbearably tender.
And that hurts more than the screaming did.
Your chest tightens sharply.
A shaky breath leaves you before you can stop it.
Then another.
He notices immediately. Of course he does.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
Your face crumples almost instantly after that. Tears spill over so fast it feels humiliating, your throat tightening painfully as you turn your head away on instinct, trying to hide how quickly you’re falling apart again.
But Heeseung reaches for you before you can fully pull away.
“Baby,” he whispers immediately, panic slipping into his voice the second he sees you crying. “No, no, come here.”
He shifts first, sitting up properly on the couch with a low breath before awkwardly tugging his boxers back up his legs with one hand, clearly too focused on you to care how rushed or messy the movement is. The fabric sits crooked on his hips afterward, barely adjusted properly, but he doesn’t even glance down at himself once.
All his attention stays on you.
Then his arms are around you again.
One hand slides behind your back while the other wraps firmly around your waist, pulling you toward him until you’re practically collapsing into his chest. He lifts you onto his lap carefully, settling you there like it’s instinctive now, like his body already knows the exact way to hold yours when you’re breaking apart.
The second he presses you fully against him, you lose literally whatever composure you had left.
A sob tears out of you hard enough to make your shoulders shake violently. Your fists bunch desperately into the front of his shirt while you bury your face into his shoulder, crying so hard it almost hurts to breathe.
Heeseung immediately tightens his arms around you.
“Fuck,” he whispers shakily into your hair. “Baby, don’t cry like that. Please.”
But you can’t stop.
Everything from earlier crashes into you all over again at once. The screaming. The things he said. The way his face looked when he called you suffocating. The fact that he knew exactly what would hurt you most and said it anyway.
“You hurt me,” you cry weakly against his shoulder, voice breaking apart between sobs. “You really fucking hurt me.”
His entire body tenses around you instantly.
“I know,” he says immediately, voice wrecked already. “I know, baby, I know.”
Your fingers twist harder into his shirt.
“You said all that shit to me and you meant it,” you choke out. “You meant it enough to say it.”
“No.” Immediate. Firm. Desperate.
One of his hands slides into your hair carefully while the other rubs slowly up and down your back, trying to soothe you even while his own breathing starts sounding uneven.
“No, I swear to god I didn’t mean it.”
“You did!” you sob. “You called me suffocating, Heeseung!”
His eyes squeeze shut hard at that. Like hearing the words repeated back physically hurts him now.
“I know,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuck, I know.”
Tears keep spilling down your face faster than he can wipe them away.
“You looked at me like I was ruining your life.”
“No.” His voice cracks instantly. “No, baby, don’t say that.”
“But you did!”
“I was angry!” he says desperately, tightening his arms around you. “I was overwhelmed and exhausted and I said the cruelest shit I could think of because I knew it would get a reaction out of you, but I swear on Jake’s life I did not mean any of it.”
That almost would have been funny under different circumstances. Almost.
Instead you just cry harder into his shoulder.
“You still said it,” you whisper brokenly.
“I know.” His face presses briefly into your hair. “I know, and I’m so fucking sorry.”
His thumb strokes slowly against the back of your neck. Up. Down. Repetitive. Gentle.
“I don’t think you’re suffocating,” he whispers. “I don’t think you ruin things. I don’t think you’re some ghost haunting my fucking studio.”
Your breathing stutters painfully.
“You made me feel like one.”
That one nearly destroys him.
You feel the way his chest physically tightens beneath you. Feel the way his arms pull you impossibly closer like he’s trying to undo the damage through proximity alone.
“Baby,” he says softly, voice cracking badly now. “Please don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.” Another sob leaves you. “You made me feel like everything I touched annoyed you.”
“No.” His hand moves immediately to cup the back of your head more firmly. “No, listen to me.”
You shake your head weakly against his shoulder instead.
“I know why you clean,” he whispers desperately. “I know why you rearrange things. I know you care. I know you were trying to take care of the space because that’s how you were raised and because you care about me, and I took all of that and made you feel unwanted for it.”
Your fists tighten harder into his shirt.
“I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have said any of it.”
You cry against him until your throat burns, until your breathing turns shaky and exhausted instead of frantic. And through all of it, Heeseung never lets go once.
He just keeps holding you close against his chest.
His fingers running through your hair slowly.
His hand rubbing your back in soft repetitive motions.
His lips brushing briefly against your temple every few minutes like he physically can’t stop himself.
And over and over again, voice rough and quiet against your skin:
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”
“I’ve got you.”
While you’re still murmuring into his shirt about how small you felt and how everything felt like too much, Heeseung’s phone suddenly buzzes.
It buzzes once, then again, and again, and again.
Notifications.
Sunghoon sent you $X: sorry about the guitar gang never again
Jungwon: bro i’m so serious i’m sorry about the guitar 😭 ki said he heard some shouting from your unit and he’s legit the floor below you and y/n
Another message comes in right after.
Jungwon: bruh sunghoon backed into the stand during the listening session last week, and we thought you noticed already but if you didnt yet then here’s our expensive ass apology hahqhsjajsba
Jungwon: i think he sent you money though… sunoo had to chip in a few because then he’d lose money to buy a ticket to see his dad APPARENTLY me and jay had to contribute some too 😔
Jungwon: love you bro 🩵 my bad all
Heeseung stares at the message.
Just stares.
Then he exhales through his nose, long and tired, like his soul briefly considers leaving the group chat on its own accord.
He places his phone face-down without a word, his hand immediately finding you again as he pulls you closer like this, at least, is the only thing in his life that makes sense right now.
A quiet curse slips under his breath as he settles back into comforting you, like the universe didn’t just hand him a brand-new headache wrapped in apologies and money transfers.
“God damn it, Park Sunghoon.”
⭐️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
tags: @simsimluver @maishee @grdientlips @yejisair777 @kristynaaah @heesroses @vmpiricou @seungiesdoll @malibluess @stwryun @hooniluhv @rikisn @hazeheart12 @exclipszz @melancholatte @bluepains @gojopolo @jasmineeeee1009 @ming1luvr @ni-k1ttie @enzsstuff01 @ixnotmee @emvss @simjaeyunslut @luvlyjaemin @kikizzz0 @ilovhoonie @starboyhee | send an ask if you’d like to be added ˙𐃷˙
written for the heart’s mailroom event ! ༊
⌗ in which . . . a cozy evening together with your clingy, affectionate fiancé park jongseong turns into another one of his teasing interruptions, quietly ruining the sweetness of an otherwise domestic moment between you two
流星 ໑ . . fiance!jay ⋆ fem!reader
⌗ includes . . . smut (18+), established relationship, dom!reader ⋆ sub!jay, oral sex (m. receiving), cockwarming, grinding, riding, unprotected sex (don't), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy praise, creampie, blowjob, cum swallowing, dirty talk, teasing ➜ intended for mature audiences | minors do not interact ♡ purely a work of fiction, none of this reflects reality | wc: 5.7k
♪ el’s bubble: love love mi a jay fic (this has been in my drafts for a few days & i believe she's ready for the wilderness) !!! lowk because that tiktok trend has been terrorizing my whole ass fyp but i just got back home after a crazy ass side quest so #YOLO . . requested, thank you so muchi (❁´◡`❁) enjoy — likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply appreciated on here ♡ requests are open if you want to see me write something specific ۫
now playing . . . nothing by cigarettes after sex
If there was one thing you wouldn’t have ever expected to do, that would have been dating and eventually getting engaged to someone who was younger than you.
The difference, if you could even call it that, was only about a year.
It was funny, really, because ever since you were a kid, you had always imagined yourself ending up with someone older. Someone who would naturally take the lead, someone steady and mature and a little ahead of you in life. Even in high school, whenever your friends asked about your type, your answer was always the same. Older guys. Maybe someone in the same year if you really liked them, but never younger.
Then you met Jay in your university’s music club and suddenly none of that mattered anymore.
At first, it was purely superficial. You noticed him because he was ridiculously attractive. The kind of attractiveness that made people glance twice without even realizing they were doing it. Pretty in an unfair way. Sharp eyes, nice hands, effortless smile, sharp jawline, and that annoying habit of looking good no matter what he wore, whether it was an oversized hoodie during practice or a plain black polo during performances.
You remembered seeing him for the first time during club orientation, sitting lazily in the corner with a guitar resting against his thigh while someone else talked. He wasn’t even doing anything special. He just looked up for a second when somebody called his name, and you thought, oh, he’s handsome.
Then someone mentioned he was younger than you.
Immediately, your brain filed him away into the category of off-limits. Attractive, yes, but he’s younger, and younger boys weren’t your type.
Still, Jay had this way of slipping past your expectations without permission.
Maybe it was because he never acted younger around you. He carried himself with this quiet confidence that made it easy to forget the age gap entirely. Another possibility was the way he listened when you talked, genuinely listened, eyes fixed on you like he cared about every word coming out of your mouth.
If the two of you were standing side by side, most people assumed he was older.
You looked softer compared to him somehow. Friendlier. Easier to approach. Meanwhile, Jay had this composed aura about him that made him seem older than he actually was, especially when he stayed quiet. People always reacted the same way after finding out your ages.
“Wait, he’s younger than you?”
Every single time.
Every single time, Jay looked way too pleased hearing it too.
The more practices you attended together, the more your carefully built preferences started crumbling apart.
You found yourself looking for him first whenever you entered the club room. Saving the seat beside you without thinking. Waiting for his texts longer than you should have.
The worst part was realizing that despite being younger, Jay somehow made you feel more taken care of than anyone older ever had.
Which was ironic, considering you had spent most of your life being the one taking care of other people.
Being the eldest daughter in your family came with responsibilities whether you liked it or not. You grew up reminding your siblings to eat breakfast before school, checking if they brought umbrellas when it rained, nagging them to sleep earlier, helping with assignments that weren’t even yours. Half your personality had probably been built around making sure everyone around you was okay.
It was exhausting sometimes.
It also became second nature eventually.
Jay, for some reason, seemed to love that part of you.
Not because he was immature or incapable of taking care of himself. If anything, Jay was annoyingly competent on his own. He cooked better than you sometimes, carried heavier equipment during performances without complaining, remembered deadlines before anyone else did.
Still, he softened under your care in a way that made your chest ache.
He liked when you reminded him to eat after long rehearsals. Liked when you fixed his hair absentmindedly before performances. Liked when you scolded him for staying up too late working on arrangements.
Sometimes he would deliberately rest his head on your shoulder after practice and sigh dramatically just to hear you fuss over him.
“You’re tired?” you’d ask immediately.
He’d smile without opening his eyes. “A little.”
It was embarrassing how fast you folded every single time.
Your friends noticed it before you did. The way Jay gravitated toward you naturally, like he had already decided you were someone safe to lean on. The way he accepted your care without ego getting in the way.
Most men hated being fussed over too much. Their pride got bruised easily.
Jay, meanwhile, looked at you like being cared for was one of his favorite things in the world.
Maybe that was what ruined you completely.
For the first time, taking care of someone didn’t feel like responsibility. It felt wanted. Desired, even.
Every little thing you did for him mattered.
A few years passed quicker than you expected them to.
University ended, the music club slowly faded into memory, and somehow, through all of it, Jay stayed.
Now the two of you were engaged, living together in a condominium unit that finally started feeling like home instead of just a place to sleep in. His shoes stayed abandoned near the doorway no matter how many times you told him to fix them properly, his guitar picks appeared in random places around the apartment, and half of your closet had quietly become his.
Jay came from money. That much was obvious early on. Nice family, expensive upbringing, connections everywhere. People usually assumed life had been easy for him because of it.
What they didn’t see was how ridiculously hardworking he was.
Even back in university, Jay had never been lazy. He was the type to stay up until three in the morning finishing projects perfectly instead of settling for “good enough.” Now it was late meetings, endless calls, hours spent working on his laptop at the dining table until his shoulders started hurting.
Money gave him comfort, sure, but it never made him complacent.
If anything, Jay worked harder than most people you knew.
Ironically, the same man everyone found intimidating at first glance turned out to be the clingiest person alive behind closed doors.
You could literally be folding laundry on the couch only for him to walk over silently and drop his full weight onto you without warning.
You used to think dating someone younger meant you would always have to act more mature, more composed, more responsible.
Instead, you ended up with a fiancé who looked intimidating enough to scare strangers but secretly wanted to be babied half the time.
Not that you were complaining.
Truthfully, you had grown embarrassingly fond of the way Jay always seemed to seek you out first. The way he naturally gravitated toward you after long days, arms wrapping around your waist before he even said hello properly. The way he rested his head on your shoulder whenever he got tired, quietly waiting for you to run your fingers through his hair.
Maybe being the eldest daughter your entire life wired something into you permanently.
Maybe Jay simply fit into that space too perfectly.
Either way, somewhere between university practices, late-night ramen runs, and years spent loving each other, taking care of him became the easiest thing in the world.
The kitchen smelled insanely good already.
Butter sizzling in the pan, garlic frying until golden, Cajun seasoning coating practically every surface you touched because you kept shaking it onto things without measuring properly anymore. A massive pot of seafood sat nearby waiting to be mixed in while several corn cobs cooled on a tray beside you, covered generously in butter and spices.
“This is gonna change your life,” you announced seriously while cutting another lemon in half. “I’m not even joking when I say this is literally going to be the best meal of your life.”
Jay leaned against the kitchen counter watching you with the most entertained expression on his face.
“Our life, rather,” you corrected. “I’ve perfected everything already.”
“You say that every time you cook seafood, baby.”
“Because every time, I improve it.”
A quiet laugh left him.
Jay was an exceptionally good cook himself. Annoyingly good, actually. The type who somehow made everything look easy no matter how complicated the recipe was.
Still, he always insisted your seafood tasted better.
Not even just seafood either. Practically everything you made.
Every meal turned into the same thing eventually. Jay praising every bite like you personally invented cooking.
At first you thought he was exaggerating to be nice. Then you realized he genuinely just loved being taken care of by you. Loved sitting at the counter while you cooked, stealing ingredients from the chopping board until you smacked his hand away. Loved hearing you ask if the food needed more seasoning even though both of you already knew he would inhale the entire thing regardless.
“You know,” you said while stirring the sauce carefully, “sometimes I think you just hype up my cooking because you want me to keep feeding you forever.”
“Obviously.”
You blinked at him. “Wow! At least lie a little.”
Jay only grinned before walking closer, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist from behind.
“I mean it though,” he murmured near your ear. “You taking care of me is probably my favorite thing ever.”
“That sounded strangely pathetic.”
“No, listen,” he continued shamelessly. “You don’t understand how attractive it is watching you cook for me looking like this.”
You frowned. “Looking like what?”
“Domestic.”
“That is the corniest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“It’s true.” His chin rested against your shoulder. “Think I’d let another person feed me corn this good?”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “You’re ridiculous.”
Jay hummed thoughtfully behind you. “Still would marry you again over this seafood boil alone though.”
“You already proposed.”
“I’d do it twice.”
Warmth spread across your face despite yourself. Moments like this always got you embarrassingly easy. Jay being clingy, affectionate, constantly attached to your side like he physically needed your attention to survive.
Then, of course, he ruined it.
“You keep saying this’ll be the best thing you’ve ever eaten in your life,” he said casually.
“It will be! Trust me, both you and I will love it.”
Jay glanced downward meaningfully before pointing toward himself.
“Not this?”
You nearly dropped the spoon straight into the pot.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, horrified. “What the hell is actually wrong with you?”
You could already feel your composure slipping in ways you absolutely refused to acknowledge, even as you tried to focus on the pot in front of you.
“What?” he asked innocently. “Valid question, baby.”
“You act like a teenage boy around me.”
“A horny teenage boy.”
“Jay!”
His laugh filled the kitchen immediately, bright and shameless, especially after you smacked his arm with the towel beside you.
That was the problem with him sometimes.
Jay looked so composed around everyone else. Polite, mature, intimidating even. Then the second the two of you were alone, he started saying the filthiest things imaginable with a completely straight face.
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, turning back toward the stove.
“You’re so in love with me, it’s obvious.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You love taking care of me too.”
His arms tightened around your waist slightly after saying it, nose brushing against the side of your neck for barely a second. The gesture itself was innocent enough, but paired with his voice, paired with the way he lingered there, it sent heat rushing embarrassingly fast through your body.
“You know what your problem is?” you said quietly.
“Hm?”
“You get way too cocky when I’m nice to you.”
Jay only smiled against your skin. “So keep being nice to me.”
You stared at the simmering pot for another second before sighing dramatically and setting the spoon down onto the counter.
“That seafood better not burn,” you warned.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Baby?”
“You’re annoying,” you informed him while turning around fully, hands sliding up the front of his shirt. “Actually so annoying.”
Jay looked entirely too pleased watching you move closer anyway.
With one last glance at the pot, you reached over and turned the heat down to low, just enough to keep it warm, not enough to keep it cooking.
You rose onto your tiptoes.
Your fingertips found his jaw before your lips did, tracing the sharp line of it, the hard cut of bone and muscle that had made your stomach flip the very first time you saw him. Stubble grazed your skin, rough and dark, already shadowing his face even though it hadn't been more than twelve hours since he'd shaved. You followed the ridge of it from his chin up to his ear, slow and deliberate, like you were memorizing him by touch.
Jay's breath went shaky. His eyes fluttered half-closed, lips parting on a soft exhale.
"You know," you murmured, voice low, thumb brushing along his cheekbone, "maybe that seafood boil won't be the best meal I'll ever have in my life, hm?"
His pupils blew wide. That desperate, worshipful look flooded his face, the one that always made your cunt clench, the one that told you he'd follow you anywhere, do anything you asked, let you take him apart piece by piece.
"Baby," he breathed, and it came out like a prayer.
You kissed him.
Slow. Deep.
Your lips pressed against his, soft and deliberate, and he melted into you immediately, his hands finding your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like he needed something to hold onto. His mouth opened under yours, a low moan vibrating against your tongue as you slid it along his bottom lip, tasting him. He tasted like the beer he'd been sipping while you cooked. Like warmth. Like home.
Your fingers slid into his hair, gripping the dark strands, and he whimpered, actually whimpered into your mouth, high and needy, and you swallowed the sound like it was the only thing you'd ever needed.
The stove hissed behind you. Butter crackled in the pot. You ignored all of it.
You pulled back just enough to breathe. His lips were red, slick, parted. His eyes were hazy, pupils blown, chasing yours.
"Let's take this over elsewhere, shall we?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but you were already moving, grabbing his wrist, pulling him off the stool and across the kitchen tile. He stumbled after you, all 180 centimeters of him, letting himself be dragged like he weighed nothing. Like being pulled by you was exactly where he wanted to be.
Park Jongseong, who closed deals worth millions in his sleep. Who had a reputation so sharp it preceded him through every boardroom in the city. Stumbling after you with flushed cheeks and quick breath, obedient and eager.
The stove bubbled softly as you passed it. The scent of garlic and butter hung in the air.
You reached the couch and pushed.
He went down without resistance, fell back onto the cushions, looking up at you with wide, dark eyes. His chest was already rising and falling fast. His hands lay loose at his sides, palms up. Waiting. Surrendered.
"Good boy," you said softly, climbing onto his lap.
You settled over him, thighs bracketing his hips. The weight of you pressing down made his breath stutter. His hands flew to your waist immediately, not quite grabbing, just holding, thumbs stroking the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up.
You kissed him again. Slower this time. Taking your time. Teasing his mouth open with gentle pressure, licking along his bottom lip, biting down just enough to make him gasp.
"Take off your shirt," you said against his mouth.
He scrambled to obey. The fabric was gone in seconds, tossed somewhere behind the couch without a second thought. His chest was bare beneath you, warm golden skin stretched over lean muscle, his nipples already hard from the cool air. You ran your palms down his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your touch, feeling the way his stomach tensed and jumped when your fingers grazed lower.
"So pretty," you whispered. "My handsome boy. You know that, don't you?"
He shook his head. A tiny, honest gesture. His cheeks were flushed, eyes dropping away from yours.
"You should," you said, tilting his chin back up with your fingers. "Because you are. Every inch of you. I could look at you forever."
His lips trembled. His eyes went glassy.
"Baby," he whispered, voice cracking.
You traced his collarbone with your fingertips. Then his shoulders. Then back up to his jaw, cupping his face in both hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones.
"I love your face," you said softly. "I love your jaw. I love the way you look at me like I'm the only person in the world."
"You are," he said immediately. Desperate. Earnest. "You are, baby. You're everything. I can't—I can't think about anything else when you're in the room. I can't think about anything else ever. You're in my head all the time."
The sudden confession hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.
You kissed him again. Softer this time. A reward.
Then you rolled your hips.
A slow, grinding press of your cunt against the hardening length of him through both your clothes. His head fell back against the couch cushion. A moan slipped out of him, broken and raw, punched from his throat.
"Fuck—"
"Yeah?" You did it again. Slower. Dragging. Feeling him thicken beneath your heat. "Feel good, baby?"
"So good. Fuck, baby, you feel so—" His voice cracked. His hands flew to your thighs, gripping tight. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Just—don't stop. Please don't stop. Feels too good, I need—I need you so bad—"
You ground down again, watching his face twist with pleasure. His lips parted. His brows furrowed. Sweat glistened at his temple. He looked wrecked already, and you'd barely started.
"That's it," you murmured. "You're taking it so well. Such a good boy for me."
A desperate little sound escaped his throat. His hips bucked up against you involuntarily.
You slowed. Stilled.
He let out a whine, high and needy, pure desperation, his hands tightening on your hips.
"Please, please, baby, why'd you stop—"
"Because I want to taste you first."
His eyes went wide. His cock twitched visibly beneath his sweatpants, straining against the fabric.
The stove crackled in the kitchen. A soft, rhythmic sizzle. Butter and garlic are still warming.
You climbed off his lap. He reached for you immediately, fingers brushing your hip, not wanting you to go even that far.
"Stay," you said softly.
He froze. Hands dropping back to his sides. Obedient. Waiting. His chest heaved with every breath.
You knelt between his legs on the floor.
The position made him whimper, high and embarrassed and so fucking turned on. You could see it in the way his cock strained against his sweatpants, the dark spot of pre-cum already soaking through the grey fabric.
"Look at you," you said, palming him through the material. "So hard for me already. Been thinking about this all night, haven't you?"
"All day," he gasped. "All—all week. Every time you bent over something. Every time you licked seasoning off your fingers. I couldn't—I couldn't stop—"
You squeezed gently. His hips jerked.
"Please, baby, please—"
You pulled his waistband down. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, the head slick and leaking, curving up toward his stomach. You wrapped your hand around the base, feeling the heat, the weight, the way he twitched in your grip.
"God," you breathed. "You're so beautiful. Every single inch of you."
His breath stuttered. "Baby—"
You leaned down and took the head into your mouth.
Just the tip. Slow. Your tongue circled him, tasting salt and want, the slick pre-cum spreading across your lips. His whole body jerked. A low, guttural moan rolled out of him, uncontrolled, shameless, loud.
"Fff, baby— "
You sank lower. Taking more of him into your mouth. Your tongue pressed flat along the underside as you went, feeling every ridge, every vein, every twitch. He was thick, stretching your lips, filling your mouth, and you moaned around him at the feel of it, the vibration making his hips buck.
His hand flew to your hair. Not pulling. Not pushing. Holding. Fingers trembling against your scalp.
"That's it," you murmured, pulling off just enough to breathe. A string of saliva connected your lips to his cock. "You're doing so good for me, Jay. Just relax. Let me take care of you."
His eyes were glassy. His mouth hung open. "I—okay. Okay, baby. I trust you. I trust you so much."
You smiled and took him deep again.
You set a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your hand worked the base while your mouth moved over the head, alternating between deep swallows and teasing kitten licks. You watched him, watched his stomach clench, his chest heave, his lips form words he couldn't quite get out.
"Please, please, please—"
Every plea went straight to your pussy, slick and aching between your thighs.
You pulled off with a wet sound. Stroked him slowly, watching his cock glisten with your saliva.
"You're so loud," you said. "I love it. I love that everyone would know exactly who you belong to if they heard you right now."
"I belong to you," he gasped. "Only you. Just you, baby, always, you own me. I'm yours. I've been yours since the first time you looked at me."
You took him back into your mouth.
Deeper this time. Your throat relaxed, letting him slide further in. He cried out, a broken, desperate sound, and his hips bucked up before he caught himself.
"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to—"
You hummed around him, and he moaned so loud it echoed off the kitchen tiles. The stove hissed in response, like the apartment itself was reacting to him falling apart.
You pulled off, breathless, saliva slick on your chin.
"Don't apologize," you said, voice rough. "I want you to let go. I want to feel you come down my throat. I want to taste every drop."
His eyes rolled back.
You swallowed him again. Faster now. Your hand working in rhythm, your mouth sucking, tongue pressing, and his sounds got higher, more broken, more desperate.
"Baby, I'm—I'm gonna, fuck— "
You looked up at him. Held his gaze.
And let him come undone.
His release hit your tongue, hot and thick, spilling in pulses. You swallowed around him, taking every drop, working him through it with your mouth and hand until his hips stopped bucking and his body went limp against the couch. His chest heaved. Sweat coated his skin.
You pulled off gently, licking your lips clean, savoring the taste of him.
"Good boy," you whispered. "You did so well. So good for me. I'm so proud of you."
He was panting, wrecked, his eyes half-lidded and dazed. "That was… shit, amazing, baby. Oh my god. I can't— "
"You can," you said softly, kissing his inner thigh. "You can do so much more for me, can't you? You're my good boy."
He nodded immediately. Eager. Desperate. Already half-hard again.
You stood up slowly, keeping eye contact.
"Then watch."
You pulled your shirt over your head. Let it fall to the floor. Your shorts followed, pooling at your ankles. You stepped out of them, standing before him in just your bra and panties.
His hands twitched. Reaching.
"Uh-uh, not yet," you said softly.
He waited. His chest rose and fell. His cock was already thickening again, hard and eager despite having just come.
"You're so greedy," you said, smiling. "So needy for me."
"I'm always needy for you," he breathed. "Every second. I can't help it."
You climbed back onto his lap. His cock pressed against your stomach, hot and hard, as you settled over him. You could feel the slick heat of yourself through your panties, soaking the fabric, making a mess of his thigh.
You reached down and guided him to your entrance.
Just the head. Pressing against you. Teasing through the soaked fabric of your panties.
He whimpered.
"Please, baby, please, I need—"
"I know what you need."
You pushed your panties aside and sank down slowly. Inch by inch. Feeling every ridge, every thick inch stretching you open. His mouth fell open. No sound came out.
"Fuck," you breathed. "You're so big. Always forget how full you make me. How good you feel inside me."
He gripped your hips. Not moving you. Just holding. Trembling.
"Take it," you said softly. "Take all of it. You can take it, can't you, baby?"
"Yes, yes, I can—"
"Good boy."
You lowered yourself fully. Seated. His cock buried deep inside you, filling you completely. You both stilled.
The heat. The stretch. The weight of him inside you.
You didn't move.
"I want you to feel this," you murmured, running your fingers through his damp hair. "Just feel it. Being inside me. Being mine. You feel that? How tight I am around you? How perfectly you fit?"
His hands slid up your back. Pulling you closer. His face pressed into your neck, breath hot and shaky.
"Mmgh, baby, I feel it," he whispered against your skin. "I feel everything. You're so—you're so perfect. So warm. I don't ever want to leave."
"Don’t leave then."
You stayed like that. Cockwarming him. Letting him feel every twitch, every clench of your cunt around him. The stove hissed in the kitchen. Water bubbling. Butter popping softly. The world existed somewhere outside, but here there was only this.
His hands moved to your back. Tracing your spine. Then up to your bra strap.
"Can I—" he started, voice small.
"Unclasp it."
He fumbled. His fingers slipped once, twice. You smiled, watching him struggle, watching the concentration on his face.
"Having trouble, baby?"
"Your bra is… it's tricky—"
"Try again."
He got it. The clasp gave, and the straps slid loose. You let the fabric fall away, baring your chest to him. His eyes went dark, hungry, reverent. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"Touch me," you said softly.
His hands came up immediately. Cupping your breasts. Thumbs brushing over your nipples. You gasped at the contact, sensitive and aching.
"It's okay, baby," you murmured. "I'll feed you."
He leaned forward without hesitation. His mouth closed over your nipple, hot and wet, sucking gently. His tongue circled the peak, and you moaned, head falling back, fingers tangling in his hair.
"That's it. Good boy. Just like that."
His other hand kneaded your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. He switched sides, mouth latching onto the neglected one, and you felt it everywhere, the pull of his lips, the graze of his teeth, the way his tongue soothed each sensitive peak.
His hips twitched beneath you. A tiny, involuntary thrust.
"Hungry already?" You laughed breathlessly. "Needy already, after just stuffing all that into my mouth?"
He whined against your breast. The vibration made you gasp.
"You're so fucking greedy," you whispered, but there was no complaint in it. Only wonder. Only adoration.
You rolled your hips. The barest movement. Just enough to make him moan around your nipple.
"Tell me what you want, baby."
He pulled off just long enough to speak, chest heaving. "More. Please, baby, please—more, I need more, I need you to move—"
"Beg me."
He didn't hesitate.
"Please. Please, baby, I'll do anything, I'll be so good, I'll be so good for you, just please… I need you to fuck me—I need to feel you—I need—"
"Good boy," you murmured. "Good, sweet boy. That's all you had to say."
You lifted your hips. Slowly. Letting him feel every inch of the drag, the friction, the slick heat of your cunt gripping him.
Then you sank back down.
And you started to move.
Slow. Deep. Grinding in circles at the bottom of every thrust. He moaned with every roll of your hips, his hands gripping your ass, guiding but not controlling.
"Look at you," you breathed. "Taking me so well. My perfect boy. My good, perfect boy."
His head fell back. His throat exposed, that sharp jawline you loved, the column of his neck, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.
You leaned in and sucked a mark onto his throat.
He cried out. His hips bucked up, driving himself deeper.
"You like that?" you murmured against his skin.
"Yes, fuck, baby, yes—"
You sucked another mark lower. On his collarbone. Then his chest. Your hips never stopped moving — slow, deep, grinding, filling.
His hands roamed your body like he couldn't believe you were real. Over your hips. Your stomach. Up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples.
"That's it," you encouraged. "Touch me. Take what you need."
"I just need you," he gasped. "Just you. Only you. Always—oh god—"
You sped up. Just a fraction. Enough to make his breath catch.
"Please," he begged. "Please, baby, please can I—can I come?"
"Not yet."
He whimpered. Rocked his hips up to meet yours.
"Please, I've been so good—"
"Have you?" You slowed down. "Let me think about that."
"Please, please, baby, I've been so good, I took everything you gave me, I was quiet, I— "
"You weren't quiet at all," you said, smiling. "You were so loud. I loved every second of it."
He blushed furiously. "Then please—"
"Beg me again."
Another desperate plea. Higher pitched than the last, his voice cracking.
"I'm begging you, please let me come, I need it so bad, I need to come inside you, please, baby—I need to feel you—I need to come, please. "
"What do you call me?"
"Baby. My baby. My pretty girl. My... fuck—my everything. Please."
You leaned down and kissed him. Slow and deep. He melted into it, moaning against your lips.
"Be a good boy and come with me, won't you?"
His eyes flew open. "Yes. Yes, yes—"
You rode him faster. Harder. The couch creaked beneath you. His hands gripped your ass, guiding your rhythm, and you could feel your climax building, hot and tight and desperate, coiling in your belly.
"Come for me, Jay."
He shattered.
His release flooded you, hot and pulsing, his whole body shuddering beneath you. The feeling of it pushed you over the edge. You came around him, clenching, milking him through it, moaning his name like a prayer.
"Jay, fuck—that's it, good boy, my good boy—"
He kept coming, kept spilling into you, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. You didn't care. You wanted them.
You collapsed against his chest.
His arms wrapped around you immediately. Holding you close. His heart hammered against your ear, wild and fast and alive.
For a long moment, there was only breathing. The soft hiss of the stove in the kitchen. The warmth of his skin against yours. The sticky heat between your thighs.
"That was—" His voice was wrecked. Gone. "I don't have words."
You lifted your head and kissed his jaw.
His stubbly, sharp, beautiful jaw. You traced it with your lips, pressing soft kisses along the edge of it, feeling him shiver under your touch.
"I love your jaw," you murmured against his skin. "I've always loved your jaw. Did you know that?"
He shook his head, eyes closed, a soft smile playing at his lips.
"I do. It's one of my favorite things about you. That and your hands. And your eyes. And the way you look at me like I hung the moon."
"You did," he whispered. "You hung everything."
You kissed him again. Soft. Sweet. A promise.
"Thank you," he breathed. "For—for taking care of me. For being so good to me."
"Always," you said. "You're my good boy. My perfect boy. I'll always take care of you."
His arms tightened around you.
The seafood boil sat between you both on the low table, still steaming, still heavily seasoned with Cajun spices and butter glistening under the warm kitchen light. The corn cobs looked borderline excessive in the best way possible, stacked like you had fully lost control and decided more was always better.
You had barely settled onto the couch when Jay was already beside you, closer than necessary, knees brushing yours as he pulled the tray a little nearer like he was in charge of it now.
“You should eat first,” he said, softer than usual.
You blinked at him. “Since when do you say that?”
“Since you look tired.”
That alone made you pause.
Jay had always been clingy, yes. Affectionate, yes. But this was different. Less teasing, more attentive in a way that made your chest feel warm in a quieter direction.
He peeled a piece of shrimp for you without asking, careful and slow, like it mattered, then held it out with a small expectant look.
“You’re spoiling me,” you murmured, but you leaned in anyway.
“Good,” he said simply. “Let me.”
The way he said it made it feel less like a joke and more like something he meant completely.
He shifted closer again, shoulder pressing lightly against yours, then nudged a corn cob onto your plate like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing this.
“You always do this for me,” he added after a moment.
“Do what?”
“Take care of me.”
You exhaled softly, watching him more than the food now. “You’re acting like I don’t enjoy it.”
His gaze flicked to yours briefly, then away like he was suddenly shy about admitting something obvious.
“I just like doing it for you too,” he said.
A small silence settled between you two, but it wasn’t awkward. Just full. Warm. Familiar in a different way than before.
Jay handed you another bite before taking one for himself, but his knee stayed pressed against yours the whole time, like he wasn’t fully satisfied unless he was close enough to feel you there.
“Eat more,” he said quietly after a while. “You barely touched yours.”
You smiled despite yourself. “Yes, my chef.”
That earned you a small laugh from him, soft, fond, and a little clingy in the way only he could manage, even while trying to take care of you for once.
⭐️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
tags: @simsimluver @maishee @grdientlips @psychicdazestrawberry @kristynaaah @heesroses @vmpiricou @seungiesdoll @malibluess @stwryun @hooniluhv @rikisn @hazeheart12 @exclipszz @melancholatte @bluepains @gojopolo @jasmineeeee1009 @ming1luvr @ni-k1ttie @enzsstuff01 @ixnotmee @emvss @simjaeyunslut @luvlyjaemin @kikizzz0 @ilovhoonie | send an ask if you’d like to be added ˙𐃷˙
Package Deal
Ship: Best Friend!Heeseung x Reader x Enemy!Sunghoon
Description: For as long as you were going to be Heeseung’s best friend, you’d have to put up with his other best friend, Sunghoon, who absolutely despises you. Things only get more complicated after an incident that leads people to think you took the package deal.
Warnings: Threesome, Eiffel Tower, MxM action, Dom/BratTamer!Heeseung, Switch!Sunghoon, Oral (m&f receiving), Unproteced Sex, Squirting, Impact Play, Dacryphilia, Creampie, Cum Play, Edging, Overstimulation, Humiliation/Degradation, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise, Pussy Slapping, Multiple Orgasms, Sadomasochism, Dry Humping literally this is 90% smut barely any plot, terrible attempts at humor
Wordcount: 15k
A/N: Ahh sorry I keep making the reader not get along with Sunghoon lol. I just love best friends and enemies tropes, what can I say. I hope everyone enjoys this. I started writing it before March and found finishing it cathartic. I still plan to write Heeseung fics in the future and have him be included as a character in future Enhypen fics. You can find the BTS Jungkook & Taehyung version on my blog @littlemisskookie as Group Bonding!
When you first met Heeseung it was for your debate program in University. He was the only one who could match you with for wit, point for point, all within the allotted time and with brevity and well spoken analysis that you were in awe of. Surprisingly the two of you did not become rivals, the way high school you would've fantasized, having read way too much enemies to lovers fanfiction. No, instead you two actually became very good friends, building a friendship based on mutual respect, sticking together even after graduation.
Heeseung was practically perfect in every way except with one minute (major) flaw: his other best friend.
You and Park Sunghoon never really saw eye-to-eye; the moment you crossed paths with his childhood best friend, his original debate partner back in high school, you knew you had entered a battlefield.
It was a never ending fight between the two of you, always vying for Heeseung's affections. Sunghoon had always accused you of being a leech, just another sycophant who would reveal her true colors and nefarious intentions towards his best friend. Apparently they had known each other since childhood, and he had seen a million girls like you come and go. You, on the other hand, found Sunghoon to be an entitled, pompous brat whose rich family provided so much for him he had never been told the word no. He was so used to Heeseung being his and his alone that you had trouble picturing him sharing anything in his life. That was probably the real reason why girls didn't last long around Heeseung.
It didn't help that Heeseung was constantly trying to facilitate things between the two of you, arranging for the three of you to hang out despite both parties' protest.
"If you guys only got to know each other better, I'm sure you'd get along!"
"Won't you guys try, for me? C'mon, I've always pictured what things would be like, the three of us."
"You're both my best friends. Why would anyone choose just one?"
More times than you could count you were invited to hang out with Heeseung, only to find Sunghoon already be there. You tried to get along with the man, really, but it was nearly impossible. He was so possessive of Hee, constantly glaring at the two of you when Heeseung showed you any affection. He always had some snide comment to make about it afterwards, like just seeing you two so close made him want to throw up. You were positively sure at this point that the younger was in love with his best friend, but it was a working theory.
Regardless, anything you showed up to with Heeseung, you'd have to be ok with Sunghoon tagging along as well. Tonight's party was no exception, though you had lost track of the duo when you went to find a drink to drown your sorrows, and then had to do it again after seeing said sorrow to drink over.
You stumbled up the stairs with a heavy heart, downing most of your cup to replace one bitter taste in your mouth with another. To your surprise you see your best friend waiting in the hallway, no Sunghoon in sight, looking just as drunk as you based on the way he was slumped against the wall.
You walked up to him, back pressing against the wall as well, leaning your arm against his for support and also needing the comfort of his body heat against yours right now.
"Hey, where've ya been? I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes I feel," you pouted, taking another sip of the fruity concoction in your cup, the vodka starting to become less noticeable.
The moment Heeseung registered you he glowed, beaming with a goofy, drunk, genuine smile that made you feel safe.
"Hey, sorry! Hoon broke the seal, and I didn't want to lose more than one person in a single night," Heeseung chuckled, grabbing you arm and tucking it against his, pulling you in closer to his side. "How're you enjoying the party?"
You shrugged, unsure if you wanted to mention the sight downstairs you were currently running from. "It's fine, I guess."
"Yeah, I was thinking about the three of us ditching to go to that party on Brunswick, but none of us seem quite capable of driving just yet."
That put a damper on your hopes of Heeseung whisking you away from this place.
"I just remembered, I forgot to show you earlier today the new watch I got from Etsy!" Heeseung's glazed eyes lit up. "Look, it's called a serpent's watch."
Heeseung flashed the fancy accessory on his wrist, the nontraditional wristband being coils of metal that wrapped down his wrist, the clock shaped closer to an oval or diamond than a circle. It really was shaped liked a serpent.
You absentmindedly nodded, fingers brushing over the way the watch wrapped around Heeseung's wrist. Your mind kept drifting from Heeseung's forearms, however, and without sobriety to keep your mind where it should be, tears were soon falling from your eyes.
Hee noticed immediately.
"Hey hey, what's wrong?" Heeseung cupped your face in his hands, thumbs swiping under your eyes to wipe away at the tears. "It's a party, you should be happy-drunk, not sad-drunk."
Your lip trembled as you melted into Heeseung's touch. "It's Jake," you explained, a pout on your lips as you said the name. "Just saw him downstairs with some girl. I just wasn't expecting it to hit so hard, y'know?"
"Aw, baby, I'm so sorry." Heeseung wasn't the biggest fan of your ex, secretly (not so secretly) elated when the two of you broke up. You didn't share the same sentiments, very clearly heartbroken when Jake dumped you to have sex with other girls. Go figure. "It's natural to be upset."
"I just—" You sucked in a breath. "I want to be over it already, y'know? I'm so sick of being pathetic and still crying about it."
"It was only two months ago. I don't blame you."
"You should. You should be sick of me at this point, crying to you about this. God knows Sunghoon is." You blinked away the tears, slowly coming back down to Earth as you grounded yourself further against Heeseung. "I'm sick of me."
"I could never be sick of you, trust me. Jake doesn't know what he's missing out on. Any sane man would be on his knees for you if you so much as asked."
That earned a laugh out of you, effectively brightening your spirit a tiny bit. You sniffled, resting your forehead against Heeseung's shoulder, sighing as you composed yourself. "Thanks, Hee. I appreciate it. God, why can't more guys be like you? There's too many assholes like Jake and Sunghoon around."
Heeseung chuckled at that. "Hey, Hoon's not that bad."
"He is to me."
"You guys just need to work on getting closer, that's all. Find some shared interest or hobby or something. Anything you might like to do together."
You rolled your eyes a bit. "I don't think there's anything like that that doesn't involve violence."
"He likes you more than you think. He just doesn't realize it yet," Heeseung assured.
You heard a knock from inside the bathroom, Sunghoon's voice calling out. "Heeseung?"
"Speak of the devil," Heeseung grinned. He turned toward the door. "What is it?"
"Can you come in here real quick?"
Both you and Heeseung exchanged puzzled glances.
"Are you guys about to get up to some gay shit?" You whispered quietly. "I mean, it's hot, I guess. Am I supposed to keep watch?"
"Dunno yet. Let me see what he needs," Heeseung said, not even bothering to deny the homosexual allegations as he stepped inside the bathroom. Sunghoon was turned away from Heeseung, looking down and fidgeting with something. "Everything ok man?"
"Yes— I mean no— I mean... shit." Sunghoon turned around, letting Heeseung see his situation. Unfortunately for him, the zipper of his pants had gotten stuck onto his boxers and was refusing to budge. "It's stuck," Sunghoon stated the obvious. "I've been trying to get it loose for like, five minutes now."
"Whoo boy, let's see what we're dealing with." Heeseung gave the zipper an experimental tug upwards. Sunghoon wasn't used to having Heeseung's hands so close to his genitalia, but he supposed it was a testimony to how close they were.
Sunghoon leaned against the sink, ears tinged pink with embarrassment as Heeseung yanked at the zipper with reasonable force.
"Hey, watch it man! I don't need you zipping up my balls, too," Sunghoon freaked.
"Relax, it's not— Jesus Christ, this thing really isn't budging," Heeseung hissed, hands starting to become sweaty with his efforts.
Sunghoon's eyes widened. He buried his face in his hands, feeling how hot his cheeks were already getting "Fuck. Fuck, man, what am I gonna do? I can't go out there with my fly like this!"
"I'd be more worried about the fact you spent, like, 500 bucks on these pants." If Heeseung used too much force on this he was at risk of breaking it beyond repair, and he really couldn't afford repairs for Prada the way Sunghoon could.
"Dude, I literally want to die right now." Sunghoon prayed everybody would be drunker than he was, at least enough where he could make a speedy exit without anyone noticing his problem.
"Wait!" Heeseung's head shot up, as though a brilliant idea came to him. "I know someone who's great with zippers!"
Sunghoon's thick brows furrowed, and all he could think about was lightning somehow shooting into the house and striking him down mercifully. "What? Wait—"
"Y/N! Get in here, we need your help!" Heeseung swung open the bathroom door, dragging you inside without preamble or Sunghoon's approval.
You grumbled, eyes narrowed with confusion. "Do I need to aim for you guys or...?"
"No! Hoon's got a bit of a..." Heeseung's eyes flicked down towards his friend's crotch. "...situation."
Your eyebrows jumped this time. "He has a boner?"
"No!" Now it was Sunghoon's turn to interject. He felt like he could die of embarrassment then and there, having to humiliate himself in front of you of all people. "My zipper is stuck."
"Aw, guess that Prada label doesn't guarantee quality after all, does it?" You jutted your lip out in a fake pout, taking your opportunity to jab at him. You were still suffering from the sting of seeing your ex, and Sunghoon was the best target you could ask for tonight. This was just too perfect.
"Hey, be nice," Heeseung scolded. "Will you help?"
"Maybe..." You tapped your cup against your chin, pondering. "If he begs."
"What?!" Sunghoon was shocked by your sheer audacity.
You shrugged, fighting (and failing) to keep the corner of your mouth from quirking up into a smirk. "If you want me to help, you have to say please. It's only polite."
"Oh my god, you're such a bitch—"
"That's not very nice."
"Nice? I can—"
"Guys, stop!" Heeseung interrupted the both of your squabbling, not wanting to be cramped in a bathroom with the two of you shouting in his ear. "Just say please, Hoon."
Sunghoon's eyes practically bulged out of his sockets when he heard Heeseung taking your side. You stuck your tongue out at him like a child, triumphant.
He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw as he muttered the words. "Will you please help me with my zipper? Please?"
You looked so cheeky and smug, putting your cup down on the sink. Sunghoon suddenly had the urge to bite you. "Well, since you sound so pathetic."
You reached for the zipper, and Sunghoon hissed to resist the urge of slapping your hands away out of annoyance. "I'm gonna get you back for this, I swear..."
"That's not how you say thank you to a favor, Hoonie," you teased, your fingers twiddling with the metal as you tried to yank it up.
"We both know you aren't doing this as a favor." Fuck, you were so close to him. He could smell both the perfume you wore and the alcohol you drank. Now he had to worry about the friction your jerky little tugs were causing.
"Aw, look at you guys getting along," Heeseung smiled, reaching up to pat your head. "I told ya, you just needed to bond a little."
"We are not bonding— ow!" You tried to turn your head to face him, but something caught in your hair. You tried to move again, only realizing that Heeseung's fancy watch was now tangled in it.
"Sorry!" Heeseung apologized, trying to move his hand back but tugging your head along with it, making you howl. "Oh, sorry again!"
"Stop moving!" You reached one hand back to reach for his wrist, trying to pull a few strands away to get loose.
"Can you get lower? It's hard for me to untangle myself at this angle."
"Fuck!" The hand still on Sunghoon's zipper yanked on it in frustration, the tug doing nothing to free it.
"My hand's getting tired up here, it'll be quicker!" Heeseung whined petulantly.
You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sank onto your knees, the cold tile biting against your skin. You were now staring up at Sunghoon, who found the view a lot hotter than he cared to admit.
But he did say he was going to get back at you.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Look at you. Can't believe you're on your knees in a bathroom for me."
You scowled. "It's not for you."
"Right. You're on a dirty bathroom floor for me and Heeseung." Sunghoon snickered at your glare, soaking in your scowl.
You reached up for his zipper with both hands, tugging it back down in another attempt, your other hand gripping onto fabric to pull it out. "You really shouldn't piss off the one with a zipper to your balls."
"That's if you can do your job correctly down there."
"Oh, you can fuck right off— Oh fuck, Hee!" Your head jerked back again slightly, and your eyes scrunched as you winced in pain.
"Sorry!" Heeseung apologized again, patting your head with the unadorned hand. "It's almost out, just a little longer."
"Fuck!" You gripped onto Sunghoon's pants tighter, pulling him closer to you as you jerked the zipper more, feeling some leeway.
Sunghoon grappled onto the sink counter, trying not to fall against you or get hard, his footing unsteady as you tugged his pants closer to your face. If he wasn't careful you were going to end up with his dick print against your cheek. The sound of your little whine made popping a boner nearly impossible. It was difficult too with the sight of you frustrated and on your knees between the two of them, tiny hands scrambling with his zipper, and his mind was going to places they really shouldn't.
Your hand was moving the zipper up and down, desperately trying to get it loose, the tiny bit of fabric bunched beneath slowly giving way. You fisted at the fabric next to it, trying to pull it in the opposite direction so it would give.
"Fuck, I think I'm close," you muttered quietly to yourself, not even realizing how you sounded.
Fuck. Fuck Sunghoon needed to get his zipper fixed now because any second now he was going to get obviously hard, and there'd be absolutely no way of hiding it from you or Heeseung.
"I-I think I might—"
"Shut up, I'm almost there!" Of course you'd be fucking stubborn when you put your mind to something.
"Me too!" His best friend innocently commented, eyes glued on his watch. Heeseung seemed oblivious to Sunghoon's panic, just as focused as you when it came to the task at hand.
You tugged one more time, the slide finally becoming easier and the zipper making its way successfully to the very bottom, no fabric stuck. "Finally!"
Heeseung managed to free his watch with your hair still intact, though it was a mess from the tangles and pulling from prior. "Yes!" He rolled his wrist with satisfaction, his other, unadorned hand now combing through your mess of hair in attempt to smoothe it. "See, that wasn't too bad."
Sunghoon felt entirely too suffocated, and for the first time in his life he was desperately wanting a woman off her knees. "For you," he huffed, feeling hotter by the minute.
It was just then that the bathroom door, which you neglected to lock behind you, swung open.
The three of you must've been a sight: your hands up near Sunghoon's crotch while you were on your knees, Sunghoon's pants unzipped, your hair a tangled mess and makeup slightly smudged from crying. Sunghoon and Heeseung were also incriminating, both sweating a little from their frustration, breathing heavy from their intense focus on very different missions.
Heeseung looked like a deer in headlights as he turned back toward the people in the doorway, the appearance of the situation seemingly dawning on him.
"Um... I know this is super cliché but... this isn't what it looks like."
—
So everybody thinks you had a threesome in the bathroom with the two hottest guys on campus.
That's just great.
It's not like anyone's dick was even out or anything. Sure, you could see how it'd look like you guys were about to have a threesome, but that's a huge difference! Instead, you were getting bombarded left and right with people you've never even met, asking you what happened, what they were like, who was better, who was bigger. They heard some of the things that were being said, you couldn't fool them. The dialogue alone was incriminating. When you told them the truth they never believed you, some giving you a cheeky smile saying, Fine, keep your secrets.
You were starting to think you might as well have with how many people were convinced.
The mere idea of it was crazy. You, having a threesome with your best friend... and his best friend. Who you hated.
Still, your mind kept drifting back to the image of him looking down at you, so pissed, so on edge. You were lucky he seemed so panicked about the zipper that he didn't notice you pressing your thighs together.
You were a horny drunk, you could admit that much. You just didn't imagine you'd be getting horny for Sunghoon of all people.
Or Heeseung.
You thought of the way Hee's fingers carded through your hair, the assuring pat on your head and the way he cradled your face when you were crying. You thought about how he looked from above as well that night, brows furrowed in concentration, biting down on his lip.
Fuck. You can't be thinking of this. It was just a drunken misunderstanding.
You need to stop thinking about fucking your best friend and his best friend. End of story.
There was no way that was ever happening. Sunghoon hated your guts the same way you hated his, and Heeseung was always oblivious to everything.
You just had to pretend that none of it was bothering you.
That's why you were loud as hell as you barged your way into Heeseung's apartment, holding your copy of his key between your fingers.
"Hee! I'm here!" you called, just in case Sunghoon was inside and you were unwittingly put into a trap with him. You stumbled your way into the living room, where Heeseung sat on his huge ass sofa, solo. "No Hoon today?"
"Nah, he's not going to be out of class for another hour at least. I'm all yours 'til then." He was so cocky with it, crossing his fingers behind his head and leaning back, giving a mischievous grin.
"Lucky me," you chuckled, kicking off your shoes to join him.
With an early start to wine and enough time to get you tipsy, your conversation with Heeseung had delved into the topic no one, you especially now, could take off their minds: threesomes.
At first it started with the two of you laughing over how ridiculous the rumor spreading about the three of you was.
"So, I'm guessing you heard the rumors too?"
"Which one? The one about the dean having the same dealer as us, or the one that Sigma Ki has a cuck hazing ritual?"
You lightly shoved at your friend, rolling your eyes. "You know the one."
Heeseung laughed at your annoyance, positively beaming. "Oh, you mean the one about you, me, and Hoon fucking each other in the bathroom? I may have heard about it."
How crazy that'd be. How stupid everyone was for automatically believing it. Then it continued, getting a bit deeper. You were currently ranting about how the concept of it in the general public, and what was deemed as more "acceptable" was two girls with one guy. It had only become a recent phenomenon of a girl getting to have two guys at the same time, the riskiest it was willing to go before still forcing her to choose one of the two. Meanwhile men's fantasies included harems and two women and expectations for girls that had been ingrained in the misogynistic society you were subjected to today.
"I mean, let's be soooo for real," you droned, the alcohol in your system making you bolder with your opinions. "Threesomes with two guys and one girl don't happen in real life. It's just a porn fantasy, and not one that gets delivered enough anyways because visual porn is much more catered to the male gaze. God forbid a woman's the center of attention."
"I'm sure those threesomes happen more often than you think, you know."
"Think about all the threesomes you know of, with real people you know, and measure out how many of those were two girls and how many were two guys. Those specific pairings. Go."
Heeseung pondered for a moment, giving it some thought. "So it's a bit... imbalanced."
"Guys have it so easy!" You whined, sinking into the couch cushions, crossing your arms with a huff. "Girls are constantly expected to be gay with their girl friends. If a girl isn't down to have a threesome with another girl, she's seen as boring. That's why so many of those Tinder couples are looking for a girl. And it's all catered towards the guy. Hell, if I were with another naked chick, the guy definitely wouldn't be getting all the attention. It's like rowboating with a heavy ass robot in the middle. Sure, hypothetically you can get the job done, but overall it'd just be best if the useless piece of junk were out of the picture."
Heeseung cackled at your comment, shaking his head. "You have the strangest way of describing things."
"I'm pretty sure I heard it from some comedian." You waved aside the thought. "Meanwhile, if you ask a guy to have a threesome with his bestie, he'd look at you like you have two heads! It only exists in porn, not real life," you rambled on.
"I'm still sure it happens in real life more often than you'd think."
"No, I doubt that. That's why it's so silly that everyone's so gullible. Guys are always going on about how it'd be gay to have a threesome with another man, but it's just as hot for the girl as it is for the guy in the switched scenarios," you pointed out. "Why else would girls be reading yaoi or reading gay fanfiction when they themselves are not gay men? Get turned on when they kiss?"
"I don't know. Some guys aren't as insecure in their masculinity as you think."
"Oh yeah? Like who?"
"Me."
You scoffed. "You? Yeah right."
"I don't think I'd mind," he shrugged, as though it were the most casual thing in the world.
"Oh really? So if a woman asked if you and your best friend— if you and Sunghoon, were down to fuck her, you'd do it?" Surely Heeseung was just blowing smoke out of his ass. Your sweet Hee? No way. The mere concept of him and Sunghoon actually sharing a girl was enough to give anyone a nosebleed. Like Sunghoon would be capable of sharing in general.
Heeseung stared at the ceiling, as though thinking about it. "Depends on the woman."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I wouldn't sleep with just any woman, first of all, my best friend included or not."
"Fair point." You thought about it for a moment. "Imagine, like, the hottest girl you've ever seen, then. You'd be down to fuck her no matter what."
Heeseung looked at you with a half-lidded gaze, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek. "Is she as hot as you?"
You rolled your eyes at his typical sleazy compliments, brushing it off with ease. He sometimes unintentionally flirted with you like this, riled you up, reminded you of what you couldn't have. At least, definitely not with Sunghoon in the way. It was always innocent banter, some light teasing, like he doesn't know what it does to you. You wonder if he was truly oblivious or if he was just really good at pretending as a way to watch you squirm. "I forget, this whole thing's easy to you. You forget the rest of us plebeians have trouble even getting one person to want us, let alone two. You could probably pick three for one night, easy." You ruffled his hair, pushing his head to the side. "Not all of us look like we could be on the cover of Vogue, you know."
Heeseung pulled you in closer, arm looping around your waist until your thighs were pressing against one another's. "You're hot and you know it."
"Yeah, but I'm not on like, you or Sunghoon's level," you snorted. Hate Sunghoon all you want, you couldn't deny the man creeped into the edges of your mind when you were getting off to the thought of his doe-eyed best friend. How you got to know two such gorgeous men, even in this sense, was beyond you.
"You're prettier than both of us. Sunghoon would agree." Heeseung leaned in and nosed your neck affectionately, and half of you expected Sunghoon to walk in any minute and scold you two for defiling the couch, even though the gesture was surely done with the purest of intentions.
"Doubt that," you chuckled. "I know I'm sorta pretty—"
"Definitely pretty."
"Definitely pretty," you corrected yourself. "But I have no doubt that I get weird stares when the three of us are in public, and people who don't know us wonder how I was able to pull that off."
Heeseung cocked his head to the side, studying your reaction, assessing your words and narrowing his eyes as though he wanted to argue. Slowly, his gaze drifted further down your face, lingering on your lips. "Ask me the question again."
"What question?" You forgot it already.
"Ask if me and my best friend would be down to fuck you."
Immediately your heart jumped. Your cheeks burned at his clarification, and you squirmed in your seat. "I don't think I phrased it like that!" You couldn't help but feel exposed, even though he misread your question entirely.
"It is now." He leaned in closer, invading your space. You instinctively tried to sink further into the couch. Heeseung stopped his face a few inches from yours, arm hooking over the back of the couch behind you, impossible to ignore, waiting on your answer. He nudged at your chin with his fingers to get you to look at him properly, the way his eyes glittered being far too mischevious for your comfort. "Ask it."
You wanted to tell him to fuck off and quit playing with you, but you were also determined to hide how affected you were. This was so unlike him. Typically he was a clueless dolt, adoring, sweet, not this. The last thing you wanted Heeseung to know was how accurately he was now seeing you now. Did he always? Was he just pretending like he didn't know all this time? You didn't want him to see how excited you were getting by some hypoethical question that could never happen for two very big, very handsome reasons.
But this is Heeseung you're talking about. There was a very real possibility he was just bluffing to get a reaction out of you. You were used to him pulling shit out of his ass to make some contrived point.
"Fine." You squared your shoulders, looking Heeseung in the eye. "Would you want to fuck me with Sunghoon?"
There's something that seemed to go dark inside his eyes, his face serious. "Yes."
You couldn't prevent the immediate small exhale of your nose, shaking your head and breaking eye contact. "You're so full of shit. Anything to prove your point and win an argument, huh?" He was exactly the same back in debate, go figure.
You were about to push him aside when you felt a hand on your knee. You stared up at him in surprise, his face still deadly serious.
"I mean it."
His thumb did a small brush against the side of your leg, and it was enough to make your knee jump beneath his palm. Your heartbeat raced, and you're suddenly left shy, as though this weren't your best friend Heeseung.
"I... That still doesn't prove my point!" Your brain was now melting away, and you're scrambling for whatever solid parts were left to form words. Heeseung was saying he wanted to fuck you. With Sunghoon. What kind of sick joke was the universe playing with you? "The likelihood of one guy agreeing to that in the first place is super low, much less two."
"Sunghoon would say yes, too."
You looked at Heeseung as though he were crazy. "Are we talking about the same Sunghoon?"
"Yes."
"Bullshit." You couldn't help but relax a little, reminding yourself of the impossibility, especially where Sunghoon was involved. "He hates me."
"He doesn't hate you," Heeseung insisted.
"He does, too." Your confidence was slowly returning, and for a moment you pay no mind to Heeseung's hand on your knee, your mind now tuning back into debate-mode. "And I know for a fact he'd think you're crazy for even asking and say no."
"He wouldn't. I saw how he was looking at you in the bathroom."
You swore your heart stopped then and there. "You're bluffing."
Heeseung grinned, and you could practically see the devil horns starting to grow. Perhaps the angel act really was a disguise. "Wanna bet?"
"What on?"
His smile deepened. "If he says no, we forget this whole thing happened. Hell, I'll take you out to that trendy little coffee place you love so much. You win."
The unasked questioned stands in the air before you take the plunge. "And if I lose?"
His eyes flicker down to your lips for just a moment, barely long enough for you to catch. "Guess."
You sucked in a breath at that. The thing about Heeseung was that he could never truly be trusted for when he was bluffing and making shit up or when he was saying fact. It was one of those things that made beating him in the moment, with all his deceit and bravado, even more special.
So that's why you found the courage to say: "Call him."
Heeseung didn't even break eye contact with you, whipping out his phone from his back pocket and ringing up Sunghoon, turning it on speaker so it was loud enough for both of you to hear.
When the first dial rang you started to have second thoughts.
When the second dial rang you started to think about how Sunghoon would believe you were a total freak for wanting this, for wanting to be shared by Heeseung and him of all people, and you'd be ready to die on the spot when you next saw him.
When the third dial rang, you started to believe you were being overdramatic, and that it'd go to voicemail and you and Heeseung could have a big laugh and forget the whole thing ever happened. Maybe make it an inside joke between the two of you. What if he had picked up?
And then he picked up.
You were ready to scream when his deep voice came out of the speaker. "Yo."
"Yo, man, what you up to?" Heeseung sounded so casual, and he only smiled when he saw your look of worry and shock as you mouthed at him to hang up.
Heeseung was so close to you that you could hear everything on Sunghoon's end without the phone even being on speaker. "Just got out of class. What's up?"
"Wanted to know if you're free to come over."
"Sure dude. What're you wanting to do?"
Heeseung's eyes locked with yours, his mouth twitching into a smirk. "Y/N."
There's a moment of silence on the line, and you wondered for a moment if Sunghoon hung up at the mere mention of your name.
Finally, he spoke.
"Tonight?" He didn't ask any further questions about what Heeseung means by that. He didn't sound shocked, only mildly curious. Amused. Not even repulsed the way you were anticipating.
"More like now." Heeseung was clearly loving watching you squirm, seeing you panic at the audacity he had to go through with the stupid bet. "How soon can you get here?"
He said it. He actually said it.
There's some noise on the receiver, but Sunghoon sounded calm. "She asked for this?"
"Directly," Heeseung confirmed. "Explicitly, in fact."
Your cheeks burned further with humiliation. There was silence again. "Is she there?"
Heeseung held out the phone, turning down the volume a bit, tilting his head as though with mock pity. Now whatever answer Sunghoon had to give would be right against your ear. "He wants to talk to you."
Your mouth is suddenly dry as he passed you the phone, and you licked your lips as though that'll do any good. "I'm— I'm here."
"Did you really ask for me and Heeseung to fuck you?"
The words almost felt like a caress in your ear, but you're sure you're mistaking a disgusted scowl as a purr of lust. Your mind clearly couldn't be trusted tonight.
You looked back at Heeseung, still close enough for him to pick up on what's being said. You realized you have a chance to deny it all, pretend it was a joke gone too far, a prank. Heeseung would be true to his word, pretend it never happened.
And then your mind raced with everything that could happen.
God, this could be such a bad idea...
"I did."
There was a pause on Sunghoon's end, and it felt as though everyone in the room was soaking in your small confession, like you were in a booth with a priest at church all over again.
"I'll be there in 30."
Sunghoon hung up, the line going dead.
Your head felt as though it were filled with static, absorbing what had just happened.
Heeseung, however, wasted no time, immediately throwing his phone away and focusing all of his attention on you.
You could barely wrap your head around the situation, still trying to comprehend multiple facts at once. Heeseung wanted to fuck you. Sunghoon wanted to fuck you. Heeseung and Sunghoon were both going to fuck you. Now. At the same time.
You rapidly blinked, not even noticing the fact that Heeseung was drawing in closer, crowding your space more than ever.
"Is this—ha, I mean, well— is this for real? This can't be real." You absentmindedly shook your head, as though trying to wake yourself up from a dream.
"It's real." Heeseung's eyes were intense, staring at you in a whole new light now, one you couldn't help but tremble under. "It's happening."
"But— This can't—"
"Yes, it can."
"No, you're just fucking with me with another one of your silly pranks. Was this planned?" You laughed, knowing the idea would be so Heeseung. If they were secretly recording this there's no doubt the look on your face is priceless. You'd kill him if he posted it. "Funny. Fun one. You got me."
"Y/N." He grabbed your wrists, pulling you in so your chest was against his, staring you in the eye. "Sunghoon's going to be here in half an hour."
You stilled in his hold, gulping at his words as you slowly comprehended the truth of them.
"So you're all mine until he gets here."
That made your heart stop.
You were barely able to make out words.
"I... you don't..."
"I do." Heeseung emphasized. "Do you?"
Your mind felt as though it fully shut down, the only thought in your brain being how Heeseung's lips are closer than ever. "What?"
Heeseung didn't get impatient with you, instead being very understanding of the fact that he already turned you brainless without even really touching you. He moved a centimeter closer, his lips barely brushing against yours, like the particles that made up both of you were just passing by. "Do you want this?"
Your mind was in static mode again as Heeseung pulled one of your hands up to his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat against your palm.
"You want me and Hoonie?" Heeseung questioned further, clarifying. "I think we both made it very clear we want you."
Never in your life had you guessed your best friend would say that. You slowly came to terms that this very much wasn't a dream, and that Heeseung was actually saying this to you. "You want me?"
"I'll want you any way I can have you," Heeseung emphasized, a soft smile on his face. "Even with Hoon."
"I... I can't believe you'd both..."
"Hoon understands," he said, moving his lips closer to your pulse point below your ear. "He's wanted this longer than you'd think." His breath tickled your neck, and you shivered. "I'm more curious about how long you've wanted this."
You shuddered and found yourself pulling him closer, wanting to feel more than just his lips lightly brushing against you, teasing you when Sunghoon could be here in less than half an hour. How long had he known? Had he always been observant, and you just projected some oblivious facade onto him?
"You mean longer than the bathroom?"
Heeseung's gaze drifted down to your lips. "Did you?"
"I... maybe." You wanted to be flirtier, more enticing, but you were still somewhat in shock due to recent revelations. You were too stunned to even try to act sexy right now. "I feel like I'm suddenly discovering new things about you."
"There's a lot of things you're about to figure out. Just ask."
"How is it you know what I want?"
"Because, I know exactly how you feel about me," he purred in your ear, moving a lock of hair behind it. You held your breath when you felt the tip of his nose along your neck, so close, raising goosebumps. "I always have..." He dipped his head lower, pressing a small, soft kiss at the center of your neck. "I know how you feel about Sunghoon, too."
You knew there was no way he could miss the way you gulped at that.
"Constantly fighting with him, building up so much frustration... you wanna know he'd take it out on you, don't you?" He pressed his lips again at the base of your throat, sucking softly, whispering the dirty secret into your skin. "Wanna know how I'd tell him to do it?"
"Fuck." You couldn't deny the wave of heat that flooded to your core with his words.
He chuckled, watching you fight back against the urge of curling in on yourself with how aroused you were. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he slowly got off the couch to move in front of you, lips ghosting over the center of your ribcage as he traveled down your body. "Want me to show you?"
"Where's all t-this coming from?" You breathlessly smiled, still trying to grasp the fact that this was all real, and not a serious maladaptive daydreaming episode. Heeseung was always so sweet, so respectful. How were you supposed to predict this side of him?
"From you telling me you want my best friend and I to fuck you," he hissed, giving a small nip now just to have you feel the sting of his teeth on your skin instead.
"You m-made me say it!"
"Yeah? I'll make you beg for it too." He rose up to your face, brushing your hair out of the way so he could look into your eyes properly. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
His hand slid up to your neck, not tight, but present, like he wanted to measure your heartbeat himself to make sure you wouldn't lie to him.
You licked your lips, trying to swallow down your doubts of courage. The feeling of being so vulnerable to him in this context was baffling.
"I want for both you and Sunghoon to fuck me. Happy?" You managed to spit out the words, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Heeseung let out a wicked grin, whistling at your attitude. "Oh? Talk back, don't we? Yeah, Hoonie will fucking love you."
He finally pressed his lips against yours, hand sliding up to the base of your head , fingers tangling into your roots and keeping you locked in place as he devoured you, making sure your head wouldn't hurt from being pressed against the back of the couch. He wasn't tender or sweet, the way you probably would've predicted and fantasized about when you first met him, and the small budding crush you had on his cute features hadn't warped into something darker, more lustful. No, he was sure of his movements, kissing you with purpose, actions deliberate as he moved with noticeable skill that could only come from practice. His tongue slid against yours with an ease that made your knees weak.
Heeseung was infuriatingly good at kissing you. You supposed it was to be expected, with how much action he probably saw, face like that and all, but still. He had this way of kissing you that made the rest of the world disappear, with only his hands on your face and his lips on yours to ground you.
You eyes were fluttering shut, and soon you were both moving in tandem, finding a tune that only you two knew. The soft sounds of his lips smacking against yours filled the room, and the grip he had on your roots, pulling your hair properly this time, was driving you crazy.
"Please," you gasped the word into his mouth. He groaned and kissed you some more, his hand tightening as he pressed you further against him. You gripped onto his shirt, the taste of him so irresistible you forgot completely that he was your best friend, and you shouldn't be doing what you're about to with his best friend too.
You subconsciously spread your legs, drawing Heeseung in so you could grind your core against his.
He chuckled into your mouth, one hand moving down to your hip to pin you down and deny you. "Needy little thing, aren't you? We're just getting started. Let me take my time with you."
You wanted to scream at him that you two didn't exactly have time, but found your brain back to mush the moment he began kissing you again, lowering his hips to yours to slowly press his heat against you. His hand stayed on your hip, halting movement from you so that he could control the gradual pace, teasing and torturous as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. It felt so good to be pinned beneath him already, in his arms, like you two were made to fit together.
You moaned against his lips when the fabric of his jeans hit your clit in a particularly delicious fashion. He growled in response, hand cupping your chin better to angle your face a little more to the side, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue in, letting it coax your lips along with his. He licked his way into your mouth, greedily swallowing more of your moans as the hand on your hip drifted down to your thigh, hitching it over his own hip to grind more securely against you.
He rolled his hips, pressing you further against the couch as you felt him get harder against you, his hand tightening against your thigh as he tried to pull you impossibly closer to him.
"So fucking good," he rasped against your lips, mind spinning at all the soft, weak little sounds that escaped you. "Can't believe I finally get to have you like this."
You kissed him harder, hands pressed against his face, wanting to memorize the feeling of his cheekbones against your fingertips. You gripped onto his hair, his shirt, anywhere you could reach, try to rock back against his hips and fully feel the bulge pressed against your pussy.
"Fuck, Heeseung..."
"Mmf, say that again." He bit your lip before pulling back.
He pressed up at an angle that hit the sweet spot against your clit, and you had no choice but to obey. "Heeseung!"
"Shit, you sound so whiny." He buried his head into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin just to hear another pathetic sound leave your mouth. He sucked hard, and you knew it'd leave a mark. "Hoon's gonna lose his mind," he groaned into you.
You threw your head back, your hips quickening against him. "Hee, please, do something."
He snarled at your impatience, nipping at your neck again in punishment before smacking your thigh. "Be patient," he grit, blunt nails raking over where he slapped you. "You're mine right now, remember?"
You nodded, a shiver running up your spine as his fingers trailed further down your leg before going back up higher and higher, ghosting over the fabric of your underwear.
His thumb brushed over the lace of your panties, and he bit his lip in anticipation. "Shit, I don't think you even know what's coming."
You canted your hips to receive more of his touch. "M-Meaning?"
"Meaning I need to start getting you ready for when Hoon arrives," Hee said. He pulled on the waistband, dragging them down your legs and discarding them to the floor. "I need to make sure you're wet enough for both of us."
Hearing your best friend talk so dirty was enough to send your mind into a tizzy. You grabbed his hand and pressed him right against your sex, eager to not waste time and see how much he can offer you in twenty minutes. Heeseung took the hint, fingers sliding up and down, getting a feel for the glide and slick you've already produced.
"Shit, you're so wet already," Heeseung said in awe, lips parted as he admired the shine on his fingers from you. "Are you excited?"
"O-Obviously." You were barely able to contain the whine when he slides a digit inside, curling it up to search for your g-spot. "It's not every day a girl gets propositioned by a hot guy, let alone two."
He quirked a brow. "Oh? You think we're hot?"
Your cheeks shouldn't burn this much from stating the obvious. "I mean... you're not bad to look at. Don't let it get to your head."
Heeseung's grin only widened. "And Sunghoon?"
You glanced away, squirming a bit as you felt him find the sweet spot inside of you. "He's f-fine I guess."
"Look at you, getting so flustered," Heeseung cooed, bending down to peck at the flush in your cheeks. "You can admit you want him, baby. It's ok."
Hearing your best friend call you "baby" in this context was something else entirely. Before it always felt so casual, something you couldn't read into. Now he was saying it like you were his. Suddenly your hips were bucking against his hand more, your body beginning to take control of your mind.
He was speeding up, and your mind was steadily beginning to melt. "I-I—"
You felt more pressure build up as Heeseung slid in another finger, the wet squelching sounds of your pussy starting to get louder.
"You can tell him when he gets here," Heeseung whispered against your lips, wanting a front row seat to all of your pathetic whimpers and moans while they were still just for him. "He'll be thrilled."
Another whine escaped your lips from Heeseung's ministrations.
"Fuck, why are you so good at this?" You muttered half to yourself, in disbelief that Heeseung was already making you feel better within five minutes than your ex did in five months.
He sucked against your neck, purposefully marking you, humming against the skin as he sloppily thrust his fingers inside. "Mm, you're just easy to ruin. You can't even hide how turned on you are."
You felt heat pool down into your abdomen, your tells showing. "Hee, I'm getting close."
To your dismay he pulled his fingers out of you, giving the side of your neck sweet kisses in apology. "Not yet. You'll need to wait."
He swallowed your whine of frustration, cradling your face in his hands and kissing you, the glide of his tongue against yours somewhat distracting you from the ache left between your legs. His kiss was wet, using just enough tongue for it to feel filthy, making sure you memorized the way he tasted.
Once your orgasm had surely died down he kissed his way down your jaw and your chest, getting on his knees, face all the way down to your now neglected pussy. He sighed with content when he saw how needy and wound up you already were, your body begging him to break it in properly. He couldn't help himself, giving your sex a sweet kiss as well, mouth trapping your clit and giving it the attention it was so desperate for.
Your back arched off the couch as Heeseung began eating you out, the wet muscle traveling between your folds and lapping at all you had to offer, his jaw widening so he could feel more of you. He moaned, and the vibrations made you buck against his mouth. He pinned you down firmly, throwing an arm over your hips, sucking on your clit reverently. Burying your hand in his hair, you let yourself get lost in the pleasure, his tongue dragging along you.
You looked down at him, his lashes long, kissing the apples of his cheeks as he focused on your taste, your breathy whimpers, the way your thighs twitched next to his head when he focused his tongue on the spot right beneath your clit.
"Fu-uck," you moaned, your nails scratching against his scalp as he got you close to the edge again. "Feels so good, Hee."
He moaned into you again in response, making you dig your heels into his back.
Pleasure pooled down to your abdomen, and you felt your abs begin to tighten. Before you could even think about hiding your orgasm from Heeseung, he's pulling away, making you shiver with the cold air against your hitting your bare cunt.
"No!" You whined, losing your grip on his hair as he rose up, rubbing your thighs in apology as he planted his lips to yours, replacing your complaints with the taste of yourself. His hand came up to your throat, not tight, but enough pressure for you to want to lean into it.
Heeseung didn't stop kissing you until your protests died and your muscles relaxed again, and you were just a desperate, breathless mess beneath him.
When he finally let you have air, your eyes were glossy with the second lost orgasm. You slumped over and laid on the couch, panting with tear-brimmed eyes, frustrated beyond belief.
Heeseung gave an apologetic look, like if it were up to him, you'd be cumming your brains out by now.
"Poor baby." He pouted along with you, hand traveling down to gently caress at your folds, spreading them between his fingers and feeling how wet and denied you were. "Bet it hurts so bad, doesn't it?"
You nodded, squirming under his touch, wanting so badly to cum against his fingers.
He didn't give you hope yet, though, sliding his hand up to your lower belly. "It'll feel better soon," he promised, slowly pushing down and applying more pressure. "It'll feel really good once me and Hoon are right here."
You gasped, biting your lip at the thought of them that deep inside you.
As if on cue, the front door opened, revealing a panting Park Sunghoon.
"That couldn't have been thirty minutes," Heeseung laughed, rolling off you as Sunghoon strolled closer to you two, his eyes devouring the sight of you teary eyed, cunt exposed and swollen, ready to be taken. His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily, nostrils flaring as he stared at you with hooded eyes. The lust was palpable, every muscle in his body appearing tight, tense at seeing you so vulnerable already. Heeseung moved behind you, propping you up so your back was against his chest, adding to Sunghoon's view.
"I may have sped a little," Sunghoon admitted, biting his lower lip. His eyes never left you, as though he were transfixed. "And used the stairs instead of the elevator."
Heeseung squeezed your face, grinning down at you, like he understood Sunghoon's obsession unquestionably. "Hear that baby? You're not the only desperate one."
Your eyes locked with Sunghoon, whose gaze was intense and made it impossible for you to look away.
Sunghoon cautiously raised a hand to your knee, slowly tracing upward as you shivered under his touch. "Has she cum yet?"
"Not yet. I've been edging her. Figured you wouldn't want to miss it." Heeseung moved your hair to the side to kiss your neck, pulling one of your thighs to the side to open you up more for Sunghoon. "She does this cute little whine whenever she's close."
Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs twitched in response. "J-Just hurry up and fucking touch me already."
Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, and before you knew it he landed a sharp slap right against your cunt.
"Fuck!" Your back arched, your hips bucking until Sunghoon roughly slammed them back down, planting another smack against your swollen folds.
"Is that how we ask for things?"
"It's how I—fuck!" You couldn't hold back the pornographic moan that tumbled out of your lips as Sunghoon did it again, though this time rubbing your clit after, as though to blur the pain into pleasure.
"Such a mouth on you still." Sunghoon clicked his tongue, as though disappointed. "Heeseung didn't teach you manners while I was on my way?"
"We didn't have much time for our lesson," Heeseung excused, pulling your shirt further up your torso to run his hand over your exposed skin, his touch gentle in contrast to Sunghoon's. "She's still learning."
"How many times did you edge her?" Sunghoon trapped your clit between two of his fingers, applying pressure on the tiny bud to watch you gasp.
"Twice." Heeseung raised the shirt over your tits now, trapping a nipple between his digits similar to Sunghoon.
"Wanna go for a third, princess?" Hoon slapped your cunt again, making you cry out and shake your head, desperate just the way Heeseung described. Still, your reaction every time he strikes your pussy was noticeable.
Sunghoon wasn't going to let you live it down.
"You like when I slap your little pussy don't you? Don't tell me we've got a painslut on our hands."
Your cheeks burned at the term, and your breath caught with embarrassment. Both could see it all over your face that you were getting hot and bothered by how he treated you.
Sunghoon chuckled a bit at that. "Then be a good girl for us, and maybe, just maybe, we'll let you cum."
Your eyes watered even more, but even then, you nodded in agreement, now under the mercy of two men.
Sunghoon smirked, victorious. "Atta girl."
"You should feel how tight she is," Heeseung suggested, giving a reassuring squeeze.
Sunghoon finally sank two fingers into you, making your breath hitch. Sunghoon's gaze darkened, already imagining how your walls would squeeze his cock. "Fuck, what a tight little slut."
Your thighs twitched at the name, and both men took a mental note your reaction to being degraded.
Sunghoon started curling his fingers inside of you, pressing against your g-spot, having the heel of his palm press deep against your clit. He licked his lips, eyes flickering between your pussy and your face, examining your open mouth and your small mewls as he started to work up what Heeseung started, the wet sounds of his digits inside of you filling the room.
"Fuck, you're so fucking wet. Hee must've really worked you up, huh?" Sunghoon purred, sliding in a third digit easily, not missing how your eyes started to roll back as he stretched you out. "Bet you've been dreaming of this since the party."
"S-Shut up," you stammered out. "Says the one who was forming a boner."
"Yeah?" Sunghoon started increasing the power of his thrusts, veins starting to pop out of his forearm as he did so. "Why don't you just shut up and let out more of those pretty moans?"
"Why don't you—"
Your words were cut off by Heeseung pressing his two middle digits against your tongue, rendering you silent.
"Now now, play nice you two," Hee chastised, shaking his head. "I thought my baby agreed to be good, no?"
He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, earning a glare.
"Come here." Heeseung pulled your jaw to face him, kissing you and muffling any insults you had to throw at Sunghoon. His tongue glided against yours, quelling your anger and making you buck up needily against the younger man's hand.
When you broke apart, you weren't even given a second to breathe, Sunghoon's large hand being the one holding your face now, focusing your attention back onto him.
"What? No kiss for Hoonie?" He grinned at your scowl. "Or is Hee's baby too good for it?"
"Give him a kiss, baby," Heeseung encouraged. "Let me watch."
You licked your lips, only allowing for a moment of trepidation before leaning into Sunghoon. His lips met yours readily, hungry as he kissed you, the pace of his fingers quickening with every stroke. He growled when you moaned against his mouth, grinding his palm firmer against your clit in reward. He pressed his mouth against you like he was trying to brand you with his kiss, make you feel it even after he was gone.
He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, demanding, his other hand sliding into the roots at the back of your head, angling your face just how he liked so he could kiss you deeper. He groaned as you whimpered against him, trying to keep up a good fight. He made it look too easy, the effortless way his mouth dominated yours bringing you to shame. He sucked on your tongue a bit, the helpless sound you made in response only making him harder.
When he broke away you were both left staring at one another, gathering breath, analyzing the blown out pupils of one another.
This was Park Sunghoon. The man you were constantly fighting for Heeseung's attention. The one you couldn't spend five minutes with without starting an argument.
You weren't sure which one of you leaned in first, but suddenly you were both slamming your mouths against each other again, but this time hungrier. More desperate. There was a carnal desire in how Sunghoon kissed you now, like he wanted to eat you and make you cry for every bullshit fight you put up against him.
Heeseung was mesmerized, his eyes never leaving you and Sunghoon as you clung onto the younger, trying to bring him closer to you, clawing at his clothes as you expressed your pent up sexual frustration through the kiss. Heeseung's hand slid down between you and Sunghoon's, his digits playing with your clit. You whined against Sunghoon's mouth, your orgasm starting to approach.
You broke away from the kiss, whining just like promised. "Please let me cum this time, please!"
Sunghoon chuckled at how easy you were to break this time, purposefully slamming his fingers against the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly. "Aw, should I? But you were being such a brat earlier."
"Let her cum," Heeseung crooned, sympathizing with you. "She's got a lot ahead of her."
Sunghoon always did have a habit of going along with Heeseung's desires.
But he wasn't going to be nice about it.
"You hear that?" Sunghoon scoffed, grabbing your face and bringing you close to his, his eye contact intense as he studied your pitiful expression. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You get to cum until your brain fucking melts."
You arched against Heeseung as Sunghoon jackhammered his fingers into your cunt, right behind the spot where Heeseung was still toying with your clit. Hee doubled his efforts, pressing down harder, making sure to give attention to the spot right underneath that had your toes curling. Your thighs began to shake as your orgasm overtook you, and suddenly clear liquid was gushing all over both of their fingers.
Sunghoon's jaw dropped open, watching you squirt against both of their hands. He was completely enraptured, mouth dropping open in awe as he watched you shake like a leaf.
"Fuck, that's it, make a mess for me. Make a mess all over Hoonie's fingers," he muttered to himself.
You couldn't stop it, the pleasure coming over you like a tidal wave. You gripped onto both of them to steady yourself, droplets flying out of you as you shook. Neither man stopped, both continuing until you were drained of every last drop, eventually slumping over against Heeseung, the aftershocks of your orgasm riding it's course along your thighs until it was no more.
Both men pulled their hands away, your legs giving residual twitches at the sensation.
"I... I think I ruined the couch.." Your voice had that breathless, cute little whine that made it impossible for anyone to be mad.
Not they would be in the first place.
"You did perfect baby." Heeseung kissed the corner of your mouth. "It's about to get a lot messier anyways."
You were limp and complaint as they both maneuvered you onto all fours, the dark stain forming on the couch mocking from beneath you. Heeseung yanked off his clothes behind you, shedding each article one by one.
The tip of Hee's cock nudged along your entrance, sliding up and down your folds and catching at your clit every time he wanted to watch you cringe from sensitivity. Soon the small shocks would stop, and when you stopped tensing he focused more on your hole, slowly breaching it. It gave way, letting him push inside the first inch.
You held your breath as he started to get the entire tip inside, your walls stretching despite Hoon's thick fingers. Sunghoon cradled your face in his hands, observing your struggle.
"Poor thing. You look like you're about to cry any second."
He leaned in, kissing you when Heeseung got past the tip, now slipping another inch inside you. Hoon's lips were a good distraction, letting you focus on the natural instinct to follow his flow instead of the overwhelming sensation of Heeseung filling you up. Sunghoon slipped a hand down your body, gently twirling his fingers around your clit, coaxing you to let more of Hee in.
"That's it. Let him in. Let him stretch you out so I can have my turn. I'm not allowed to fuck you until after. "
You moaned against his lips. "Mmf— who says?"
You could feel him smile, like you had been let in on a shared secret.
"We made a deal after the party." Heeseung hissed from behind as he sank further into you. "But we had been thinking about it for a while."
You furrowed your brows, trying to form a coherent sentence and not focus on how good Heeseung was stretching you out right now. "W-What deal?"
Heeseung smirked at the expression you wore as he pushed in more, now over halfway inside. "That if we did this..." Both of you let out a strangled noise of pleasure when he bottomed out inside you, his balls now flush against your cunt. "I get first dibs."
Sunghoon laughed, patting your cheek condescendingly. "Bro code."
That's when it dawned on you that you had fallen into Hee's trap, just as he planned. The moment you asked the question, it was game over for you.
Heeseung pulled back some, giving a few experimental, shallow thrusts, letting you get used to the feeling of him. Eventually you stopped tensing up, loosening as you became accustomed to the sensation, your nerves coming alight as he started to go deeper.
"How's that dick feel, baby?" Sunghoon mocked you with the pet name, combing his fingers through your hair in faux comfort, keeping your face angled up so he could drink in every expression you couldn't hide. "Is it just like you've always imagined?"
"Fu-uck you." Your jab lacked it's usual venom, instead becoming breathy at the end as Heeseung hit a sweet spot.
"Ask nicely," Sunghoon bit back.
You were about to respond when Heeseung's hand jotted out in front of you, grabbing Sunghoon by the nape and pressing his mouth against yours, forcing the two of you to kiss to stop your bickering.
"Behave, both of you," Heeseung scolded, gritting it out as he started using longer strokes, letting you feel how long and deep he was every time he pulled out to the tip to thrust back in to the hilt.
Sunghoon seemed to melt against your mouth, not even arguing with Heeseung as he moved his lips against yours. Every moan that escaped your mouth and into his he took greedily, tilting his head to the right to kiss you thoroughly as each of Heeseung's thrusts pressed you closer together.
Heeseung really was such a good mediator.
You broke away for a breath of air, glaring at Sunghoon and his swollen, pouty lips. He glared back, though it seemed to be because you pulled away when he didn't get his fill of kissing you.
"I still hate you," you said, though the words have no bite. Not when each one comes out breathless and weak along with Heeseung's strokes. Not when you give Sunghoon that stare that lets him know that even if you did hate him, you wanted him in equal measure.
"C'mere. You don't need to talk anymore." Sunghoon grabbed your face, making you arch your back further as he started kissing you again, unashamed with the wet, sloppy sounds of your lips smacking together or the low growls that emanated from his chest.
You two stayed making out for a moment, your lips repeatedly crashing against his as Heeseung rocked you back and forth on his cock. Neither of you seemed to mind, though, both breathless and panting into each other's mouths in a mess of tongue and teeth, and you desperately grasped onto Hoon for stability. Hoon sucked on your tongue, moaning when he felt you melt in his arms.
He finally let you go, pulling off his shirt, hands moving to his pants and pulling his flushed, aching cock out with little finesse. He's about the same size as Heeseung, and your jaw already began to ache as you examined the challenging girth.
Sunghoon tapped the tip of his cock against your pouty lips. "C'mon, open that bratty mouth. There's a good girl."
You gave a gentle kiss to the head, and then another, opening your mouth more with each one as you started using your tongue, slowly making out with it the way you would either of them. You closed your eyes, suckling on it a bit, the same way he did on the tip of your tongue earlier.
Sunghoon seemed to be enamored with the sight, jaw dropping open as you slowly progressed to kitten licks, peering up with them with the faux innocent look that only got him harder.
He muttered under his breath, curling his fingers into the roots of your hair and slowly pressing you down further.
You complied as he pushed your head down, opening your mouth greater as the full head was suctioned by your lips.
Sunghoon hissed when you flicked your tongue on the underside of his cock where the head met the shaft, and he slowly sank you down further, the gradual slide of your throat down on him making his toes curl.
Sunghoon tossed his head back, feeling your throat suction around him as he start to fuck it properly. "Oh shit. Don't stop, just like that baby. Fuck, you're so good at this. Your mouth feels so fucking good."
He was decent enough to give a slow pace, following along with Heeseung who did the same in order for you to get used to being filled from both ends. Sunghoon did his best not to buck into your mouth or push too far into the back of your throat. It started to get harder when Heeseung started fucking you faster, though, your body naturally being pushed forward again and again, making you gag further and further down Sunghoon's cock until his eyes were rolling to the back of his throat.
"Holy shit," Heeseung moaned, slapping your ass thrice in quick succession. "My baby's being such a good whore for us, isn't she? Fuck, yes, take it. Suck that dick baby, c'mon."
Fuck, hearing Hee of all people start moaning that you're a whore was spurring Sunghoon on. Slowly his concerns and restraint of getting you used to two cocks melted away. You seemed to be a natural already, and Hoon was always the type to tease and bully what he was secretly fond of. Heeseung was well aware. How else do you break in a toy?
"Look at me. You want both of us? You want to be a greedy little slut for one night?" Sunghoon moaned, hand cradling your throat to feel how he moved inside of it. "'Course you do."
Heeseung slapped your ass again, your yelp muffled around Sunghoon's cock. Heeseung's hooded gaze stayed glued on how your ass would ripple against his hips with every snap. Every time he looked up he'd see Sunghoon's bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the way his eyes never left your face as he tangled his digits into roots.
His grip tightened on your hair as he bobbed your head up and down, Heeseung's thrusts pushing you further down on both of them from either end.
"Fuck, you're both so fucking hot," Heeseung growled. "Such a good slut, taking our cocks like this. You're such a good girl."
Sunghoon grinned, looking down at your pathetic form, forced to take everything they had to offer. Your face was so flushed, your eyes trying to look up at Sunghoon's without rolling back. When he looked up at his best friend he saw his his hands digging into your waist to pull you closer, how his dark stare devoured the view, how his eyes kept meeting Sunghoon's to see if he was also losing his mind. He was. "How does his dick feel? Is he hitting the spot you need?"
You moaned in response, unable to give a clearer answer due to how thoroughly he was using your mouth.
Sunghoon pulled you off for a moment, letting you moan out loud now in tune with Heeseung's thrusts. He tightened the fist in your roots, angling your head to look up at his cocky grin from above.
"You want me to hit it too?"
You bit your lower lip and grinned in confirmation, finally smiling along with him for once. It melted away though into a face of pleasure as Heeseung's hand came around to your front, toying with your clit as his staccato thrusts picked up rhythm.
"Fuck, I'm fucking close," he moaned. "Need to feel you cum around me. Need to feel everything. Need—"
Heeseung's words were cut off by Sunghoon's free hand grabbing his nape and pulling him in, slamming their lips above you. Sunghoon slipped his tongue inside, eyes closed as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, swallowing Heeseung's moans.
Heeseung grunted in Sunghoon's mouth, panting as his thrusts got sloppier and his digits rubbed harder against your clit. Sunghoon's hold on your roots was firm, keeping your neck craned, forcing you to watch how their tongues tangled together and listen to their lips smack, Heeseung's groans turning into whines as he got closer to the edge, all being devoured by Sunghoon.
It was too much, and before you knew it your cunt was spasming around Heeseung's cock, cries muffled around Sunghoon's.
Heeseung couldn't last much longer, hips stuttering as he felt you cum around him, his whimper against Sunghoon's tongue delicious as he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside you.
The two men finally broke apart, a spit of string still connecting them before snapping, leaving both breathless with parted, swollen lips.
Heeseung tried to recollect himself, garner his breath, try to regain some semblance of self. Slowly he pulled out of you, both of you winching at the sensation. You collapsed down onto the couch, a boneless heap. Slowly, white appeared at your entrance, Heeseung's cum beginning to slowly trickle out of you.
"Fuck... look at that." Sunghoon reached over and spread your folds, more cum dribbling out. He put a finger in, coating it in Heeseung and you, pumping it in and out, watching you shiver with sensitivity. "Can you take more?"
"Mmfuck," you whined in response, hips wiggling. Whether you were chasing Sunghoon's digit or running from it, you couldn't tell.
"C'mon, baby. Let Hoonie fuck you good. It's about time you both start getting along," Heeseung cooed, running a comforting hand up and down your thigh to ground you.
Sunghoon added another digit again, watching your face contort in pleasure as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Don't you want to make it up to me? All those times you were an annoying brat?"
Heeseung smiled, hand going up to comb your hair out of your face, his deceiptively sweet face reassuring you. "It's time for you two to fuck it out."
You nodded, and soon Sunghoon was repositioning you onto your back, spreading your legs wider, pushing one of your legs up and over his arm, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, with both of you sucking in a deep breath. You grabbed onto the arm holding up your leg, biting your lip as he buried in hilt deep. Despite how open Heeseung fucked you, you still felt tight as ever around Sunghoon, and you could feel him right up in your guts the way Heeseung promised.
Sunghoon bit his lip hard, trying (and failing) to contain his grunt as he sank into your heat.
"Holy shit. You feel better than I dreamed."
He gave a small, experimental thrust of his hips, examining how your breath hitched and your thighs clenched. Here you were, fucking the man who annoyed you most, who you were always fighting for Hee's attention. You supposed this was a good way for both of you to get it at the same time, Heeseung utterly entranced as he watched Sunghoon's first few strokes inside of you.
More of Heeseung's cum spilled out of you as Sunghoon pushed further in, the first slide going much smoother due to how much Heeseung filled you up.
Sunghoon's pumps were shallow at first, noticing your small winces from overstimulation and possible soreness. Judging by the slight rasp in your voice that's already started to appear, you were going to need a bit of a recovery period after tonight.
Heeseung was growing impatient, however, believing Sunghoon should've came in you closer to yesterday. He was eager to see you filled to the brim with both him and Sunghoon, to see Sunghoon's cock limp and drained because of you. And here the two of you were, wasting time like always when you could be fucking each other's brains out.
"What, don't tell me you're scared of her now Hoon? After all that talk?" Heeseung laughed, clapping Sunghoon on the back of his nape, pulling him close. "Thought you wanted to fuck her?"
That got Sunghoon going a bit, his next thrust sharper than the sloppy, slow rolls he was giving before. Your breath hitched, the sensitive spot inside you slowly drawing in heat.
"Just—" Sunghoon bit his lip, trying to control himself despite the devil at his shoulder. "Don't want it to hurt."
The laugh Heeseung barked out made him feel silly.
The grin Hee gave you bordered on menacing, like he was reaching his wits end. "Did you forget already?" The sharp smack he delivered to your swollen folds had you curl into on yourself, clamping down on Sunghoon and causing him to rut harder into you, trying to sink deeper in. "She likes it."
Hee's words woke Sunghoon up from his worrisome daze, and he drinks in your expression from Heeseung's action. The way your eyes watered and your lower lip trembled, but also the way you opened your legs further, as though asking for more.
The word pops up in Sunghoon's head again.
"Painslut," he growled.
Heeseung grinned wickedly as Sunghoon began to properly pull his hips back, no longer restraining himself and delivering sharp, heavy thrusts that had his balls clapping against your cheeks. The plap plap plap accompanied by the wet gush of your pussy repeatedly swallowing his cock, as well as the pornographic noises you were both omitting, was music to Hee's hears.
Both of you were staring at each other with such intensity, eyes never leaving one another's as Sunghoon drilled into you, mouth dropping open with yours as you both experienced mind-numbing pleasure with each other for the first time when you were supposed to hate each other.
Heeseung could practically taste the mixed emotions from both of you in the air, and he lived off of it.
"Fuck her open." Heeseung bit his lip, watching Sunghoon pull back and roughly slam into you again. "Harder. Make sure she feels it."
Sunghoon furrowed his brows, delivering a harder thrust, savoring the moan that escaped you as he reached in deeper, tip hitting right against the spot that had you feeling weak.
Heeseung sucked in a breath. "That's it. Now you're doing it. Just look how wet she is for you."
You felt Sunghoon twitch inside you at that. Heeseung's commentary was doing wonders for both you and Sunghoon, both of you getting seemingly more flushed. Hoon's thrusts quickened, his enthusiasm showing as he repeatedly hit that spot that had you gasping again and again and again.
"Fuck." Sunghoon grunted, his grip on your waist tightening as he pumped inside. "Feel that? Feel how deep I am?"
He emphasized his question with a brutal thrust that had you scrambling for purchase, grabbing onto Heeseung as your body began to move with Sunghoon's. "Yes, H-Hoon!"
"Fuck yeah you do. You love this, don't you? Love letting me use you like a little slut." Sunghoon groaned, watching the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. "Still hate me?"
"Yes," you spat out bitterly, your pride still clinging on in some semblance as Hoon started pounding into you.
Both Heeseung and Sunghoon laughed, and it only made your cheeks burn hotter.
"No you don't." Sunghoon landed a smack against your pussy, feeling you clench around him in response. "Holy shit, you got so tight. C'mon, squeeze me baby. Show me how much this pussy loves me."
The cry you let out was pathetic, unwittingly obeying his command as your walls contracted around him.
"There we go. That's a good girl. So you can listen."
Heeseung hummed, enjoying the sight before him, watching both of you slowly unravel in each other. He saw it coming a mile away. He was just glad he got to see it finally happen first hand.
"I'm just so glad to see my best friends finally getting along." He pressed a kiss against your cheek, the action surprisingly tender given the filth of the situation. He pulled back, moving behind Sunghoon so he could watch the view from his friend's perspective.
Both men watched how coated Sunghoon's cock was in Hee's cum, the white glistening along his shaft every time he pulled back. Heeseung's cum helped make the glide easier, extra lubricant added on top of your already dripping wet pussy. You could feel the wetness coating your inner thighs, and wouldn't be surprised if the surface area only grew as Sunghoon continued using you like this.
"Fuck, that's so hot," Sunghoon moaned, tossing his head back and drilling into you with more fervor, veins popping along his forearms as he slammed his hips against yours. "You're so hot. 'Course a pretty girl like you likes being fucked like a slut."
"So pretty," Heeseung agreed, biting his lip, eyes glued to where both of you were joined. "You're both so fucking hot."
He tilted Sunghoon's chin, turning him to face him as he planted his lips against the younger. Sunghoon was responsive to say the least, pressing against Heeseung harder, his hips stuttering for a moment as his brain tried to keep up. Heeseung's other hand slid down Sunghoon's abs, raking his nails along them to make Sunghoon shiver and open his mouth wider.
Sunghoon panted, his thrusts getting sloppier as he moaned into Heeseung's mouth. You could see glimpses of their tongues dancing together with every part of their lips, the whimpers that Heeseung swallowed only driving you closer to the edge. Hearing Hoon's soft pants and moans, muffled against Hee's lips as he held his face tight in his hand, not letting him free for even a second even as he grew breathless and his whines turned needy, was enough masturbation material for a lifetime.
"Fuck fuck fuck, I'm close," Sunghoon moaned against Heeseung's mouth, the words barely decipherable with how Heeseung was devouring him. He whimpered, the sounds getting cut off or replaced with the sound of smacking lips, Heeseung’s grip firm and unrelenting.
Heeseung finally let Sunghoon go, letting the younger man moan and suck in deep, greedy breaths of air. Heeseung's lips were shiny and swollen, and he stared down at where Sunghoon was absolutely destroying you, his thrusts starting to get sloppier with every pump. "Cum inside."
Sunghoon's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck—"
Heeseung looked down at you, where your eyes nearly crossed with Sunghoon abusing your g-spot, the prospect of being filled up by your biggest annoyance making your back arch against the cushions.
"You want it, right?" Heeseung reached up and pressed his hand down on your lower abdomen, feeling his best friend through the barrier. "I can feel how deep Hoon is inside you. You want it right here, right? Right where I'm pressing."
He pushed harder, making both you and Sunghoon cry out. "Yes! Please, please Hoon. Cum in me. I'm so close."
Sunghoon's hand moved down to your clit, pressing demanding circles against it to drive you to insanity. "Cum for me then. Make your pussy beg for it."
Before you knew it you were doing exactly that.
"Fuck, that's it," Heeseung hissed. He leaned more of his weight on the hand pressing down on you, his grin mischievous and wicked. "Good girl."
The combined stimulation from both of them had you spasming around Hoon, your walls involuntarily quaking and squeezing his girth as promised. Sunghoon let out a guttural groan, your orgasm triggering his own as he hunched over you, his hips stuttering as he began to coat your insides.
You felt the warmth as he starts to fill you up, some gushing out of you already and between your cheeks. Heeseung stopped pressing down on your stomach and grabbed Sunghoon's ass, having him gasp and rut deeper, cockhead firmly pressed against the deepest spot inside of you.
"Keep fucking her," Hee commanded, his tone leaving no room for question.
Sunghoon did as he was told, continuing to pump into you as you started to cringe from the overstimulation. Sunghoon was too, his groans morphing into weak little whines as he let out every drop into you, fucking you still. You could see the mix of pain and pleasure in his face, his thrusts slowing down as his cock began to soften.
Heeseung squeezed. "Don't stop," he ordered. "Keep fucking her. Don't you dare stop."
Hoon, the loyal, pathetic friend he was, obeyed. His weak, stuttering thrusts continued, overstimulating you both as his pelvis rocked against your clit. His pumps were shallower now, lacking the power from before, as though every thrust now took something out of him. Both of you were left breathless, staring into each other's eyes, tears brimming them as you both broke further under Heeseung's command. The man watched with a shit eating grin, clearly pleased watching your glassy gazes.
Sunghoon's head dipped down, and it took every ounce of strength not to collapse on top of you, humping you slightly with what he had left to give, his hips stuttering and sloppy. You felt a tear fall on your collarbone as he whined, not stopping his movements until Heeseung gently pushed him back.
Both you and Sunghoon cringed as he finally pulled out, the white appearing immediately and trickling down on the sheets. Sunghoon slumped over you, breathing heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck as both of you finally got to come down from your highs.
It turned out, however, that Heeseung was the hardest to satisfy.
He sneered, pulling Sunghoon off of you and scoffing at how he broke before you.
"What are you doing? Clean her up since she's been so nice to you."
Heeseung gripped Sunghoon by the roots, lifting his head and planting him face first into your used pussy.
Sunghoon obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut as he opened his jaw wider, letting you melt in his mouth. He lapped up Hee's and his own cum readily, humming with satisfaction, his ministrations becoming greedy. You cringed from the sensitivity, but Heeseung didn’t let you run from it, using a hand to pin you down as he leaned over you and kissed the pain away. You tried to focus on how his lips moved against yours, but still found yourself bucking against Hoon's mouth and whining into Heeseung’s.
Heeseung smiled, tightening his grip against Sunghoon's scalp as he pushed him harder against you, chuckling at the tears in your eyes.
"See baby? I'm having him make up for being so mean to you," Heeseung cooed. "What do we say?"
"T-thank you," you weakly stammered out, feeling the coil tighten for the last time.
"There we go. I'll even help."
He shoved your legs further apart to make room for himself, pushing Sunghoon's head lower so he could slide his tongue inside. You gasped when Heeseung's mouth joined, the dual sensation of two tongues against you bringing you closer to an orgasm no matter how much your body screamed.
Sunghoon rose his head up higher, tongue meshing against Heeseungs as both slid over your clit, trapping it beneath the pressure of the two muscles. Neither man seemed to shy away from each other, and you could hear the wet smack of their lips against each other as they made out, your cunt acting as a third.
Your thighs trembled, the feeling of both of them at the same time, and the visual stimulus of their eyes peaking up at you from between your legs, made the final orgasm of the night especially satisfying. You gave what was left of yourself, seeing white and feeling as though you were floating for a moment. Slowly, you came back down, feeling their hands rub soothingly along your legs and waist.
Both were panting just as hard as you, their pink, swollen lips an enviable shade, glossed with orgasm who-even-knows. Heeseung had a smug, calm smile on his face, whereas Hoon had heavy lids, exhaustion starting to set in his bones with how spent he now was.
Heeseung patted your head gently, a stark juxtaposition to his rough demeanor prior. "Back to Earth?" He quipped.
You nodded, post-millionth-nut clarity settling in as you realized your best friend and his just gave you the best sex of your life.
"I guess now I have a better answer for all of those people asking if we've fucked," you joked.
That earned a laugh from Heeseung, and even a grin from Sunghoon, who was usually impervious to your quips.
"You're so cute." Whether or not Sunghoon meant to say that out loud was unclear, and you weren't given enough time to think about it because soon he was having you taste yourself on his lips. And him. And Heeseung.
Heeseung was absolutely thrilled watching his two best friends make out, fucking pervert that he is. Everything went just according to plan, even better than predicted, and now he could finally reap the rewards of all his hard work.
— SUMMARY. The night was calm, peaceful, full of serenity. She was more than content as she laid in his secure arms, his musky scent of flowers and faint cologne engulfing her entirely, pushing her more into the brink of humanity.
Her fingertips were delicately tracing over his bare chest as she drew random shapes onto his skin. His beautiful skin; his beautiful body which she adored. She could feel the slight goosebumps peeking through and softly smiled to herself at that. His beautiful skin on top of his beautiful body, a piece of art.
She sighed in content, wrapping her arms around him as she snuggled deeper into him. The arm around her waist stiffened a brief moment before relaxing loosely around her. She could hear his soft breathing, the soft beating of his heart. The faint moonlight shining through her window was casting elegantly around the two, desperately trying to wrap around them, desperately trying to make them one.
"Do you love me?" She gently asked.
Suddenly, his whole body stiffened. She could hear his heart beat slowly begin to pick up its pace and felt his arm twitch in the slightest behind her. She raised her head slowly, glancing up at him. His eyes were purposely locked away from hers and his head was tilted to avoid even a slight glance. He visibly swallowed, the arm once wrapped around her now laying numbly on the bedsheets behind her along with her feelings.
In his hesitation, she found her answer.
OR, in which Hyunjin is a little bit of an asshole and Y/N just misses him.
— PAIRING. hwang hyunjin x fem!reader
— GENRE. punk!hyunjin, ex-childhood-bestfriends-to-lovers au
— WARNINGS/OTHER. so much angst, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, eventual smut, dom!hyunjin (a warning in itself), alcohol consumption, mentions of recreational drug use, cursing, idol!hyunjin (not k-pop), hyunjin has tattoos & face piercings, longhair!hyunjin, heavy themes consisting of : mentions and actions of parental abuse, drug use, depression, hyunjin had a troubled childhood
— STATUS. COMPLETED
— DISCLAIMER. this story is pure fiction, using only skz’s physical characteristics and names. i do not associate my works with the real life members. please reference the warnings above, as this will contain mature content. additionally, please do not read/interact if you’re uncomfortable. thank you!
ᝰ READ HERE :
part one — how do i make you love me?
part two — my hands at risk i fold
part three — of stars and skies
part four — hate that i love you
part five — learn to love how to dream
part six — love me, leave me, repeat
part seven — lavender haze
part eight — in your eyes
epilogue
ᝰ DRABBLES (can be read in no particular order) :
in which Hyunjin is an athletic, little piece of shit, but Y/N loves him, anyway
GENRE/CW: smut, angst, fluff, porn with plot, slow burn, multiple smut scenes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lots of kissing, cunnilingus, blowjob, dry humping, fingering, car sex, mutual masturbation, spit kink, multiple orgasms, marking, crying. mentions of nicknames, pda, messy feelings and bets, subtle mentions of jaywon. lmk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 30.9k words
SYNOPSIS: Jake is utterly oblivious to the fact that you are well aware how his sudden devotion to you is stemmed from nothing but a pathetic little bet. He is also unaware of the fact that you have been matching his energy, playing your part so convincingly that the line between performance and truth starts to blur, and you are not sure what is real anymore. OR, the classic bet trope twisted into bet inverse.
A/N: hihi loves <3 so i finally used my 2 year old idea and made it into a fic, it was soo fun to write and i could not have done it without doll (ily for sprinting w me always), i hope you guys enjoy it <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <3
CHAPTER ONE: Raised stakes.
If there was one word to describe Jake, it would be carefree.
Some deeper parts within him would care to disagree, however, he had perfected this art of burying them six feet under layers of easy smiles. At twenty-three, Jake was the hot Physics student pursuing Masters with a killer arm (or leg in this case) on the football field.
He had always been good at drowning out uneasiness with a bright grin, a well-timed joke that he somehow laughed at harder than the others, the easy way his hand would find the small of someone’s back as he guided them through a crowded party. It worked, it always worked.
Hardworking to a fault, he balanced brutal training sessions, demanding coursework, and still found time to be the social glue of every group he touched. Clumsy in the most endearing ways—tripping over his own feet during victory celebrations or spilling his coffee down his jersey—he’d just laugh it off, turning mishaps into stories.
So, in a word, Jake Sim was considered to be carefree by any living creature that had the slightest pleasure of meeting him.
And to put it simply, he enjoyed it. He basked in the attention thrown his way, not in a way that would label him as arrogant, it just came to him as easy as, well, breathing. All that effortless energy around him kept him sane, coming from a loving family, to having friends he could call his second family, he truly cherished it to the core.
Tonight the spring kickoff party in the quad thrummed under strings of warm fairy lights, the bass from the speakers mixing with the scent of grilled corn (to Jay’s absolute delight), spilled beer, and early cherry blossoms. Jake stood right at the center of it all, lean athletic build relaxed as he leaned against the brick pillar, red solo cup in hand, black hair falling in soft tousled waves. He ran his fingers through it absentmindedly while Heeseung gestured wildly mid-story, the group around him already cracking up at the enthusiasm of it all.
“—and then she just looks at me after the game, all flushed and smiling, and says you looked really good out there tonight. Next thing I know we’re back at her place and I’m thinking, damn, maybe I should score more goals if this is the reward,” Heeseung said, smile wide as he took a swig from his cup.
Jay laughed at that, “you’re too fucking easy,” he mumbled, taking a bite of corn, pairing it up with vodka right after.
Sunghoon leaned back against the pillar, smirking as he shook his head, “you two are hopeless, now let me tell you guys about what real pleasure is—”
“Spare us the details,” Jeno mumbled, a tad bit tipsy with the amount of booze he’d been consuming, Jaemin holding him up, but his mind was elsewhere, planning something rather crazy to wash out the usual mundane conversation.
Jake’s laugh rolled out bright, head tilting back and shoulders shaking with genuine amusement, “you guys are practically whores,” he clicked his tongue, “but yeah—nothing beats that post-game high when someone’s waiting for you looking like that. Makes all the bruises worth it.” He bit his lower lip lightly, still grinning as he scanned the lively surroundings, eyes crinkling warmly at the corners.
Across the grass, you stood with Jungwon and Karina near the low stone wall, Jungwon had dragged the two of you here earlier, insisting it would be lowkey fun because his Jay hyung had invited him and “it’s not like we have to stay forever.” The music played in the background, but your attention stayed on them—sharp little remarks about random campus drama, Karina’s latest story about a disastrous blind date, the usual easy flow that made the noise somewhat bearable.
Jungwon glanced toward the center of the party, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he watched Jake’s group, “Jake’s in full golden-boy mode tonight. Look at him— Jay says he’s the same off the field, always cracking jokes even when everyone’s half-dead from practice.”
Karina nodded, swirling the last of her drink slowly, “It’s almost unfair how he does that, wish i could’ve been that extroverted honestly.”
You followed their gaze without meaning to. Jake was mid-laugh again, black hair falling messily into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. The light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the way his whole body seemed to lean into the moment. Everyone around him was leaning in too, feeding off that bright, effortless warmth.
It made something tight and irritated coil low in your stomach. Not jealousy, no, just exhaustion at the performance of it all. The way the entire party seemed wired to orbit one guy who never seemed to run out of smiles or energy.
You shrugged, “he’s too loud. Must get exhausting pretending the world’s that fun all the time.”
Jungwon bumped your shoulder lightly, his laugh soft and familiar, “c’mon, he’s not that bad. Jay swears he’s actually decent when you get him one-on-one. But yeah, he looks a wee bit too jolly tonight.”
Karina smirked, eyes glinting with teasing as she glanced at you, “you’d probably shut him down in two seconds flat if he ever tried talking to you. I’d pay to see that.”
You pressed your lips together for half a second, the thought of Jake Sim turning that sunshine smile on you—of him thinking he could just waltz into your carefully guarded space—sent a flicker of pure distaste through you. You weren’t interested in being another notch, another story he told his friends the next day.
Your life revolved around the quiet satisfaction of getting things right, majorly focusing on, well, studies. Romance, especially the loud, golden-boy kind, had no place in it.
“Exactly,” you said, tone edged with dry sarcasm, “not interested. Let’s grab something from the food trucks and dip before it gets worse. I’ve hit my limit on forced fun for one night.”
You didn’t mind being in the crowd as long as your friends were with you, however, you did mind the exhaustion creeping upon your body. No one but you were to be blamed for it. Going to the gym in the morning, catching up on lectures later, getting groceries, and now being at a party—you’d tired yourself out with the simple mindset of being busy is a blessing. It was true to some extent, albeit not in a way that your friends would agree. The conversation didn’t dull as you started making your way out to eat with your best friends.
On the other side of the quad, Jake was only half-listening to the guys now, he felt himself getting comfortable in his smaller circle, it was exactly the kind of night Jake usually loved.
But his eyes kept drifting.
It wasn’t as if it was his first time seeing you, especially when Jungwon was always around too, it was merely the fact that you kept your distance, always. Jake wasn’t blind, he appreciated beauty which you carried around effortlessly. The lack of general courtesy to acknowledge strangers? Not so much.
You looked like you wished to be anywhere but here (which was true), making him wonder why. He ran his hand through his hair, messing the soft waves before smoothing them back down, a habit he barely noticed anymore.
Jaemin, who had been unusually quiet for the last minute, suddenly leaned in closer, voice dropping low enough that only their small circle could hear over the music, “wanna make things interesting?”
Jay groaned, knowing his proposal would cause damage in the name of merriment, because that’s how Jaemin thrived. Sunghoon was rather interested in knowing what was gonna be the deal here, and so, he continued.
“See her? Jungwon’s friend?” The group turned and looked your way, Jay already opening his mouth to stop him, but of course, Jaemin was quicker, “make her fall in love with you in a month.”
“Wait—me?” Jake echoed, the word half-laugh, half-disbelief, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it usually did.
Jaemin leaned in closer. His grin was sharp, almost scary, “yeah, you, in one month. Make Jungwon’s friend fall for you, hard. Like, actually in love with you to the point it gets public.”
Jay’s head snapped up so fast the corn on his plate nearly toppled, “Jaemin, no. She’s not—fuck, she’s not gonna be interested, at all. I literally know her, she keeps everyone at arm’s length, especially guys like Jake, no offence.”
Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, interested now in a way that made Jake’s stomach twist, “stakes?”
Jaemin didn’t hesitate, “If Jake wins—makes her say it out loud, in front of us—he gets the M4. Keys, papers, the whole matte-black beast. Mine for a month, and if he wants to keep it after that, it’s his. No take-backs.”
The circle went quiet for half a second before Heeseung let out a low whistle, cup frozen halfway to his mouth, “your car? The one you won’t even let me sit in without a fucking background check?”
“Yep.”
Jay dragged a hand down his face, shoulders tight, “Jake, this is messed up. You’ll hurt her, and then you’ll feel like shit, and she’ll hate you, and the whole group’s gonna be stuck in the middle because Jungwon’s her best friend. This isn’t a game, It’s gonna blow up in both your faces.”
Jake’s fingers found the back of his neck, then slid up into his hair without thinking. He messed them further, his eyes drifting across the quad again to where you were still walking away with Jungwon and Karina, posture straight, silver ring catching the light as you twisted it mindlessly.
He should say no. He should clap Jaemin on the shoulder, laugh it off, steer the conversation back to the upcoming football match or the thermodynamics midterm that was currently trying to murder all of them.
But something stubborn flickered in his chest. The same part that hated the idea of failing at the one thing he was supposedly best at, making people feel seen. You hadn’t even looked at him twice.
One month, one girl who looked like she probably just needed someone nice to talk to and share her worries—right?
Jake bit his lower lip for half a second, the way he did when he was locking in on a tricky play. Then the grin came back as bright and effortless, the one that always worked.
“Deal,” he said, not confident at all, though great at hiding it.
The group exploded, clearly not okay with the idea itself. Jay groaned louder, already shaking his head, “you’re both idiots. This is gonna end badly.”
Sunghoon just laughed under his breath, leaning back against the pillar, “I’ll take that bet too. Odds on Jake cracking first?”
Heeseung was already pulling out his phone, demanding proof in the form of media. Jaemin slapped Jake’s shoulder hard enough to make his red solo cup slosh over the rim.
“Day one starts tomorrow, Jakey. Better bring everything you’ve got.”
Jake laughed again, but when it settled, it left something quieter behind. Something that tasted a little (a lot) like doubt.
Later that night, when the place had emptied and the only sound left was the low hum of crickets, Jake lay on his back in his room. The mellow playlist he always played when the noise finally stopped drifted from his phone. His small notebook—the one no one ever saw—was open on his chest, a half-finished football formation doodled in the margin. He wrote one line.
She doesn’t like loud spaces, or crowds.
He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and exhaled into the dark.
“What the fuck am I doing?” He whispered.
Across campus, you were already in your room, bullet journal open on your desk, silver ring still on your finger. You didn’t know about the bet yet. All you knew was that Jake Sim had never looked your way before last night, and something about the way his eyes had followed you across the grass fell off.
You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek once, then wrote in the tiniest handwriting in the margin of tomorrow’s schedule.
Keep your distance from Jake Sim.
CHAPTER TWO: Bet inverse?
Jake’s alarm went off at 6:47 in the morning like it always did, but this morning he didn’t bother hitting snooze. He stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, the bet from last night practically sitting on his chest. Jaemin’s evil smile and Jay’s warning kept on repeating in his mind.
He should have let it go, instead, he rolled out of the bed, pulled on his black hoodie and shorts, laced up his running shoes after freshening up. He knew where Jungwon lived, the dorms near the science buildings where there was always an influx of food carts nearby.
The distance wasn’t long per se, but his breathlessness certainly made it seem like it was, and the little hope he had to spot you in the cold of this morning.
The sky was soft gray before the sun decided to show up, and Jake’s lungs were burning in a way that made him feel good, hair sticking to his forehead by the time he slowed to jog near the coffee cart.
To his absolute luck, he spotted you right there as you thought what you should order from the coffee cart, looking too proper in your jeans that fit you just right as if it wasn’t so early in the morning, and he took a moment to observe you, breathing hard, wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He stepped up beside you, the scent of your perfume overtaking his senses.
His friends called him weird for this rather peculiar habit of his where he leaned in too much to get a sniff of, well, practically everything. So, it was hard fir him to control himself at the moment.
“Y/N,” he said, voice low so it wouldn’t startle you, “uh—hey.”
You turned, eyes meeting him before you granted him the smallest nod of acknowledgement, “Jake.”
The barista waited and Jake kept his hands in his hoodie pocket so he wouldn’t fidget, “one Americano for me, and whatever she’s having—I’ll cover it.”
You frowned at this because Jake truly had no reason to be talking to you here, much less paying for your drink, “you really don’t have to.”
“I know.” He offered a half-smile, the real one, “but I want to. We’ve been around each other enough—Jungwon’s parties, that study hall last semester. Felt kinda stupid that we’ve never actually talked.”
You studied him a second longer, like you were trying to decide if this was a line or just politeness. Then you told the barista your usual—vanilla latte, extra shot, and stepped aside while the machine hissed to life.
The silence between you wasn’t awkward exactly, Jake could feel the bet sitting heavy in his throat, but right now it was better—the way your perfume kept drifting over every time the breeze picked up. He wanted to lean in again, but he didn’t.
When both cups came out he handed yours over carefully, no fingers touching, just the warm cardboard passing from his palm to yours.
“Uh—thanks,” you said simply before you started walking.
He fell in beside you, matching your stride without crowding your personal space. The path was empty enough to give you both privacy which you didn’t need as his heartbeat felt a little too loud in his ears, and for the first time, he found himself being nervous to talk to someone.
After half a minute you spoke again, “so how do you always act all nice for people you barely know?”
His lips curved, “I don’t do that, not really. Usually I’m the one everyone expects to keep things light,” he mumbled, “I saw you last night, you looked—bothered? Made me wonder what it’d be like to actually talk to you instead of just watching.”
You took a sip, wondering how he so casually admitted to staring at you, “and what’s the verdict so far?”
He glanced sideways, the early light was starting to hit the side of your face, “still figuring it out. But the coffee seems like a decent start.”
You didn’t smile, not really. But something in your expression eased, and it made him feel a little accomplished, as if he’d won something small and fragile that could disappear any moment.
The path split ahead, biotech building looming on the left. You slowed, turning to face him fully. For a second the guarded look cracked open, and he caught something underneath it—irritation, maybe, or the faintest flicker of curiosity you didn’t want to admit to.
“I’ve got lab,” you said.
Jake nodded, the easy warmth still on his face even though his stomach twisted with how badly he wanted to ask one more question, “yeah, of course. See you around, Y/N.”
You gave one small nod then turned and walked toward the doors. He stood there until you disappeared inside, the taste of black coffee bitter on his tongue and the ghost of your perfume still clinging to the air around him. He breathed it in once, almost guilty, then let it go.
Back in his dorm he dropped onto the bed still in his hoodie, the room quiet. The small notebook he never let anyone see was already open on his lap. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, before writing: Vanilla latte with an extra shot, morning lectures in lab 291.
He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and stayed like that until the pressure behind them eased.
Meanwhile, you were beyond confused narrating it to Karina later, who gave you a dry chuckle, “yeah, don’t entertain him,” she said, and you scoffed—as if you’d ever do that.
But three days had passed since the party, and it was as if Jake had made it his personal mission to accidentally run into you whenever you least expected him to. Somehow, he had managed to get your schedule, which is why he was standing outside your lecture on the very next day.
Jake was a poor actor and highly unaware of the same, so his exclaimed Oh, Y/N, felt rather comical to you, granted he had two coffees in his veiny hands. You chose to ignored him, face pulling into a natural smile for a second, and he stood there shocked, only to realize you were waving at Jungwon who stood behind him.
Jake stood there for a few minutes, not moving even when you had left while Heeseung and Sunghoon stood right there, judging him. Your smile—as brief as it was, had been pretty, too fucking pretty, and doubt crept up Jake. He wondered if he’ll ever be able to coax that smile out of you himself.
The thought followed him through the rest of the day, sharp enough to make him reroute his afternoon lecture so he happened to be near the vending machines right as you stepped out of lab. He was there again the morning after that, leaning against the wall outside the biotech building with a single vanilla latte in hand, the extra shot already marked on the side in the barista’s neat handwriting. Each time he appeared, he kept his voice low, never demanding more, though it felt like a blow to his ego how you actively tried to avoid him. He genuinely wished to talk to you (for the bet, of course).
By the third afternoon the rain had started, insistent against the library windows. You had slipped into the far back study nook, the one buried behind the tallest reference shelves, you needed it—needed to bury yourself in studies and forget how Jake’s persistence was beginning to thread through your days like a melody you couldn’t quite shake.
You pulled out your bullet journal and started annotating protocols for the upcoming lab, pen moving with sharp precision, and you felt a presence behind you. You were most ready to snap at Jake, but it was Jaemin who found you instead.
He dropped into the chair across from you, smirking, like he had been waiting for this exact moment, “Jake’s been hanging around you a lot lately,” he said, voice light but knowing, “you might fall for him.”
You set your pen down slowly, “what makes you think I’ll fall for him?”
Jaemin’s smirk deepened, “well, chances are less but certainly never zero.”
You frowned, irritation rising, “what do you want, Jaemin?”
“I was getting to it.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting, “I wanna propose another bet since I’m bored and I clearly care for you.”
“Another bet?” You asked, brain finally working. Jake was following you around for a fucking bet, you should’ve known.
Jaemin watched your face change and his grin widened, “I give you thirty days to make him fall for you. And I mean truly head-over-heels kind of fall, then reject him, then you win, since you clearly don’t care about him.”
You stared at him, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, “I don’t want to be involved playing with feelings.”
“If he didn’t care for your feelings, why are you holding back?”
“Cause I’m not like him?”
“Fair, but here’s the deal—” Jaemin leaned in closer, voice dropping.
“Isn’t he your friend?”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
“It’s fun.”
“You’re insane.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“What is he getting out of this?”
“My car.”
Another scoff left your mouth at this, and Jaemin said he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d win. Nothing was in your mind honestly, but you were too pissed to let it go.
“And what will I get?”
“A chance to absolutely shatter Jake’s ego, and that trip to Paris with your friends, you’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”
“How the fuck did you—”
“I have my ways,” he shrugged, but his eyes, oh his eyes were glimmering with joy. He almost seemed like a Cheshire cat.
So you agreed. Jaemin only smiled, walking away from you now, leaving you rather disturbed.
As if the universe itself had been listening, Jake walked past the end of the aisle at that exact moment, eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on you. You met his gaze head-on and gave him the smallest smile you owned, and he paused mid-step, lips parting like he might say something, then you looked away, not bothering with him anymore than you had today.
The game had just begun. And this time, you were the one holding the cards.
CHAPTER THREE: Ignorance isn’t bliss
You ignored Jake.
It was rather easy to do so despite all the plans you had brainstormed to make him fall in love with you hopelessly. The day had been too hectic, and to say you were exhausted would be an understatement—even the slightest voice would absolutely make you scream out in frustration given the state of your mind. Which is why you found yourself sitting in the bleachers, all silent and calm.
Truth be told, you didn’t wish to get into this mess by any means, however, Jake wasn’t one to give up. You scoffed at how he’d trade any stranger’s feelings for a stupid car, and even then he’d be celebrated for winning a bet.
Jake didn’t know why but the past few days had been weird for him. He couldn’t understand why you smiled at him in the library only to abruptly disappear from the face of the earth next—and yes, it bothered him because the time was ticking by. Maybe Jake was a lucky guy, cause right then, he found you at the bleachers, sitting up there as if trying to hide from the world.
It was clear you didn’t wish to be disturbed, by Jake of all people, but his feet carried him before his mind could keep up, and that’s how he found himself sitting three seats away from you, prepping to show his absolute best flirt game, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “are you okay?”
“Why are you everywhere?” You exasperated, finally turning to look at him despite knowing he’d found you before.
For once he didn’t jump in with some easy line. He just sat there a second, elbows on his knees, watching you like he was actually trying to read the mood instead of skating past it.
“I saw you from the path,” he said, “you were up here alone, I figured I’d check if you were okay. That’s it.”
You let out a sharp breath, the exhaustion from your day mixing with the frustration that had been building since Jaemin dropped his little bomb about the bet. This is all fake, you reminded yourself. He’s only here because he wants that stupid car, that bet.
“Checking in, right. You’ve been turning up at the coffee cart, outside my lectures, the vending machines, now here. I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”
He shifted one seat closer, jacket creaking a little, but still left space between you, “I’m not trying to push. I know it probably comes off like I’m in your face every day. It’s just—you always seem like you’re carrying a lot and you’re doing it alone. I guess I wanted to see if you were actually alright or if you were just pushing through.”
You turned to face him, eyes narrowing, “pushing through is what students do, Jake. I don’t need an audience for it.”
“Yeah, I see that,” he said, gulping as he stared at your side profile, “you’re pretty resilient about it. Most people would’ve already vented to someone by now—and maybe you did to your friends but yeah.”
“Resilient?” You let out a short laugh, “or just tired of everyone expecting me to perform. Unlike the quintessential golden boy who’s always got a smile ready.”
Jake winced, looked out at the empty field for a second, then back at you, “golden boy—ouch, fair though. That’s the label I got stuck with.”
You crossed your arms tighter, “so, why are you up here trying to talk to me instead of being there with your friends? It doesn’t add up.”
He rubbed his palm over his knee, “uh—with them it’s nonstop noise, like I love my friends but it’s all just football practice, jokes, keeping the energy up no matter what. With you—it doesn’t feel like I have to be that version of me.”
You scoffed, how cliché, “right. So now the guy who’s always the center of everything suddenly wants to sit in silence on the bleachers?”
Jake leaned forward a fraction, elbows on his knees, “there’s this whole dichotomy between what everyone sees and what’s actually going on inside. Talking to you, it’s not like that.”
“Not like that,” you repeated, the words coming out flat, “how convenient, Jake.”
He swallowed again, eyes flicking to your face as you said his name, “It’s not convenient, It’s just true. You don’t expect me to keep the vibe going, y’know? You just say what you think.”
You felt your chest tighten. He sounded so damn eloquent even when he was lying, “you’re really good at this, you know? Making it sound like you actually get it.”
“I’m not trying to be good at anything,” Jake said, voice dropping, “I just keep showing up because every time I do, I see more of the real you. Not the version you show everyone else.”
You let out a breath, he could definitely get a few points for acting, “okay, so listen then—my lab did suck today. Equipment kept failing, I’m behind on three lectures, and I came up here to be alone, that’s it. Nothing exciting.”
“Hey—i didn’t ask for exciting,” he said, staring at the way your fingers still twisted the ring, “my day was shit too—coach rode us hard about tomorrow’s game and I barely studied for my midterm. Sometimes I just want to sit somewhere and not pretend everything’s perfect.”
You stared at him, “so you picked me to sit with? Out of everyone on campus?”
“Yeah,” Jake said simply, meeting your eyes, “because you don’t expect anything from me. You call me on my shit. It’s nice, I guess.”
“Whatever, I’m fine keeping my distance and acting like you care won’t change that, okay?”
“I do care,” Jake let out too quickly, surprised at his own words, “that’s the part you don’t believe, but it’s true.”
The conversation was getting too real, too fast, and the knowledge of the bet made every word feel like a trap, “It’s exhausting trying to figure out if any of this is real or if you’re just—”
Mid-sentence, just as your voice rose, Jake closed the gap by embracing you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you without hesitation, one hand settling at your back, the other across your shoulders. The dark jacket was soft against your cheek, still warm from the afternoon sun, carrying that clean, steady scent that was just him.
You practically froze as his heartbeat thudded against your ear—fast, as if the move had surprised him too. It was warm, really warm, making everything feel a little less heavy for a second. Even though you knew this was all part of the cursed bet, the gesture was still something, making your eyes sting. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had held you like they actually meant it.
Jake’s own breath caught as he held you. His pulse wouldn’t slow down, guilt and something else he couldn’t pinpoint made his heart seem heavier. For those few seconds he just held on, chin resting lightly against the top of your head, breathing you in like he could somehow make the whole stupid situation disappear.
It was awkward, because you in fact did not reciprocate the hug that well, proceeding to pull back with your cheeks burning. Jake’s hands stayed on your shoulders for half a second longer than they should have before he let go, looking just as thrown as you felt. He closed his eyes, biting on his bottom lip too hard, panicking cause for once, he didn’t know how to handle the situation.
The anxiety only rose as you grabbed your bag, planning on getting up, however, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, “I’ve got a game tomorrow—It would mean a lot if you came, no pressure. You don’t have to stay the whole time or cheer or anything. Just come—if you want to for a break.”
You didn’t answer right away, watching him mutter it out all breathless, hair messy and cheeks seemingly red now. You barely caught on to his words, still processing the warmth, but a part of you did wish to reject him on the spot and walk away before the things got more complicated.
Another part wondered what would happen if you actually showed up, since you did have your own bet to take care of.
CHAPTER FOUR: Like a rom-com actor
The next afternoon the stadium was already packed and buzzing when Jake stepped onto the field for warm-ups. He was supposed to be loosening up his legs, listening to the coach bark instructions, getting his head in the game. Instead his eyes kept flicking up to the stands every few seconds. The wind was blowing hard across the pitch, constantly shoving his black hair into his eyes no matter how many times he tried to push it back.
Jay jogged over and bumped his shoulder, “dude, earth to Jake? You’ve been staring up there like you’re waiting for the love of your life to appear. You good?”
Sunghoon, who was retying his cleats a few feet away, let out a low laugh, “he’s been doing it nonstop. Head snapping up every ten seconds. What’s got you so distracted today? You never get like this before a home game.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual laugh even though his stomach was doing flips, “I’m fine, just looking for someone.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Sunghoon, “someone? As in a specific someone who’s basically a bet? Damn, this must be serious if it’s got you this antsy within a week.”
Jake didn’t get the chance to answer, because he finally spotted you.
You were sitting a few rows up with Jungwon and Karina, the wind tugging at your hair the same way it was messing with his. The second your eyes met his across the field, Jake’s breath caught hard in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs because—you actually came? For a second he forgot how to move, just standing there staring like an idiot while the wind kept pushing his hair everywhere.
You gave him a small smile and lifted your hand, waving at him softly.
Jake’s whole face lit up before he could stop it. Without thinking, he waved back enthusiastically, arm swinging high and wide as if he was trying to reach you from the middle of the pitch. His hair flew wildly in the wind as he did it, the motion so eager and over-the-top that Jay choked on his water and Sunghoon doubled over laughing so hard he had to grab onto Jay’s arm to stay upright.
“What the fuck—” Sunghoon wheezed, “you just waved like a little kid who spotted his mom after school. I’ve never seen you do that in my life.”
Jay was cracking up too, wiping water off his chin, “yeah he’s absolutely finished. Down horrendously bad and it’s not even been a few days.”
“Guess we know who’s gonna lose the bet,” added Hoon in a singsong voice.
“He never stood a chance honestly.”
Meanwhile, around you, a bunch of girls in the stands noticed Jake’s dramatic wave and immediately started squealing, waving back excitedly and calling out his name like he’d waved at all of them. A few even stood up, cheering for him loudly.
You raised an eyebrow, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and slight disbelief, “damn,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd, “he sure is famous.”
“And a player,” added Jungwon.
“And an asshole,” quipped Karina, arms crossed over her chest.
You had told them, of course you did, and watching them get so enraged on behalf of you did make you feel tons better, which shouldn’t have been the case since they did threaten to chop Jake’s dick off, but hey, the way Karina said it was quite comical.
Down on the field Jay spotted Jungwon in the stands and lifted his hand in a casual wave with a clueless grin on his face like nothing in the world was wrong. Jungwon just stared back with his jaw tight, not waving back as he was convinced Jay already knew about the bet and was somehow backing Jake up, and the thought made his expression go hard.
You nudged Jungwon’s side with your elbow, keeping your voice low, “c’mon, be normal, wave back or he’s gonna think something’s weird.”
Jungwon let out a reluctant huff, but he finally lifted his hand and gave a small, stiff wave. Jay’s grin widened like nothing had happened at all, and he turned back to the field, completely oblivious.
Karina groaned beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest against the wind, “I still can’t believe we’re freezing our asses off here when we could be on your couch watching Harry Potter for the nth time.”
You let out a small laugh despite everything, the sound almost swallowed by the growing roar of the crowd as the teams lined up, “you said you’d come for moral support.”
“Yeah, well, moral support is currently questioning every life choice that led me here,” she muttered, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at her lips anyway, “at least the view isn’t completely terrible.”
The whistle blew and the game kicked off in a whirlwind of motion. You tried to follow the ball, the quick passes, the way the players cut across the pitch, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jake. He moved with this radiant energy that pulled focus without even trying, hair whipping in the wind, legs eating up the grass, every sprint full of that effortless, captivating drive. The crowd’s cheers rose and fell in effervescent waves, but you didn’t feel any better, still suffering with that familiar push-pull of suspicion and something warmer you really didn’t wish to name.
The first half was all back-and-forth tension, both teams trading chances without anyone breaking through. Jungwon kept up a quiet running commentary under his breath, trying to keep things light, while Karina complained about the cold seeping through her jacket and how much better butterbeer would taste than the lukewarm soda they were selling. You nodded along, but your attention stayed glued to Jake, much to your friends’ dismay. Every time he glanced toward the stands, even mid-run, your chest did this annoying little flip, which pissed you off.
Then the second half heated up. The score stayed locked until the final minutes, the air thick with anticipation. Jake got the ball near the edge of the box, dodged one defender, then another as he cut inside. The crowd held its breath as he struck it clean, a powerful curving shot that sailed straight into the top corner, past the keeper’s desperate reach.
The stadium lit up into celebration but Jake didn’t celebrate with the team right away. He turned straight toward the stands, eyes scanning until they found you. Then he pointed, right at you, his whole face breaking into this bright, almost whimsical smile as he jogged backward, arm still extended like he was making sure the entire world knew exactly who that goal was for. His jersey had ridden up in the sprint, revealing the sharp, glistening lines of his abs under the stadium lights, every defined ridge catching the late afternoon sun for a fleeting second before the fabric fell back down.
Your heart raced, oh that traitorous little thing, thudding hard enough that you could feel it in your throat. Heat rushed to your cheeks even as the knowledge of the bet sat heavy in your stomach, whispering that none of this was real. Still, for that split second, with the roar of the crowd and his hair messy in the wind and that radiant look aimed straight at you, it felt too much. Too real perhaps? Too dangerous regardless. The enigmatic pull of him was getting harder to ignore, and you hated how easily your body responded anyway.
Karina snorted beside you, rolling her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical, “oh my god, could he be any more performative? Pointing like he’s the hero in some cheesy romance movie, puh-lease.”
Jungwon chuckled quietly, but his eyes flicked to you with that same protective glint from earlier. You didn’t say anything, just stared down at the field as Jake got swarmed by his teammates, the final whistle blowing and the win sinking in. The crowd was still cheering wildly, but all you could feel was the lingering echo of that pointed finger and the confusing satiation it left within your chest.
Jungwon turned to you, voice low so only you could hear, “so, you’re actually going through with the plan?”
You let out a long sigh, shoulders dropping as you pushed yourself up from the bleacher. The metal was cold under your palms, “yeah, I kinda have to now. It’s the only way to beat him at his own game.”
Karina stood too, brushing off her jeans with a dramatic huff, “let’s get out of here before I turn into an icicle, you better make him drop down on his knees, babe.”
You nodded, hugging them both, but instead of heading toward the exit, your feet carried you toward the locker room area. You hated this part already, leaning against the brick wall, arms wrapped around yourself against the biting wind, you waited, every second dragging like you were standing there on purpose just to prove a point to yourself.
The door eventually did swing open and you watched Jake stepping out, hair still damp from the shower and curling softly at the ends, a fresh black hoodie hanging loose over his frame. He was laughing at something one of the guys said behind him when his eyes landed on you, causing him to stop mid-step.
For a second he just stared, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into this softer, brighter, almost disbelieving expression. His lips parted, and then he broke into the biggest, most genuine smile you had seen on him yet. It was radiant, boyish in how uncontained it was, his eyes lighting up like you were the best part of his entire day, and it made your throat go dry.
“Hey—you’re still here,” he said, voice warm and a little breathless as he walked straight over to you.
You pushed off the wall, trying to keep your expression casual even as your heart picked up speed, “you played really well out there. That last goal was incredible, it was the first time I experienced the whole stadium going crazy,” you said, completely ignoring the part where he dedicated that goal to you.
Jake’s smile grew even wider, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there, “you really stayed for the whole thing. God, that means a lot. I kept looking up into the stands and there you were. I—it motivated me, I can’t even explain it.”
He looked so happy, so openly thrilled, his eyes bright and captivating under the fading stadium lights. The way he was looking at you, like your presence genuinely made his day, made something dangerous flutter in your chest despite the reality of it all. You stepped a little closer, heart hammering, and did what you had to do.
You rose onto your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, letting it linger for a second, “Uhm—I’ll see you around,” you murmured against his skin, starting to pull back.
But Jake’s hand gently caught your wrist, stopping you. His touch was light, almost careful, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he held on too tight, since this did seem like a dream to him. Behind him, Heeseung had paused in the doorway, watching the whole exchange with an amused little smirk he wasn’t even trying to hide.
“Wait,” Jake said softly, still processing the kiss, his thumb brushing once over your skin, “you’re leaving already?”
You swallowed, “yeah. I have an assignment I need to finish tonight.”
He nodded, but didn’t let go right away, “right, of course.” Then, a little shyly, he added, “there’s a party at the house tonight—but if that doesn’t work, we’re having a smaller one at the dorm in a few days. Just the guys and whoever shows up. You should come, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile for you.”
You hesitated, the warmth of his fingers and the hope in his eyes making it harder than it should have been, “I’m not really a party person, Jake.”
“I know,” he said quickly, voice gentle, “that’s why I’m telling you it’ll be chill. No pressure at all, just come hang out for a bit. I’ll even make sure there’s something better than cheap beer. Please?”
The way he looked at you, so earnest and a little nervous, made you feel guilty just a smidge. You could feel Heeseung’s amused gaze on the both of you, but you kept your focus on Jake.
“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, offering a small smile.
Jake’s eyes lit up like you’d already said yes. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
You gave him one last nod before gently pulling your wrist back and turning to leave, but Jake’s hand caught your wrist again, gentle in his action, like he couldn’t let the moment slip away just yet. He gave a light tug, drawing you back toward him until your back pressed against his chest. For a heartbeat you felt the solid warmth of him behind you, the faint dampness of his hoodie, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then he leaned down, one arm slipping loosely around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
His lips were plump and soft, warm from the shower, staying there for a second longer than necessary. The touch was rather unhurried, sending a quiet shiver through you that had absolutely nothing to do with the wind.
“Jake—”
When he pulled back, he bit his lower lip, eyes bright and a little shy as they met yours, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice hopeful, like the words were a promise he was already holding onto.
You managed a small nod, heart still stumbling over itself, and finally stepped away. The spot on your cheek stayed warm long after you turned the corner, and you wondered how this game was gonna end.
CHAPTER FIVE: Soaked and blue balled.
She gets cold so fast, shoulders hunch up the second wind hits.
She keeps twisting the rings on her index and ring finger.
She has a faint dimple on her right cheek.
She fits perfectly in my ar—
Now, Jake had not the faintest clue where he was going with this, yet he kept on writing under the pretence of keeping all the minute observations in a precise manner for his advantage. He stared at the page for another moment, then shut the notebook and tossed it onto his desk.
The ever so unforeseeable rain had started hammering against his window, and he watched one single raindrop cascading down the surface before he sat right up, grabbing an umbrella to head out without any destination in his mind. Well, he did have to bring Jay back from Jungwon’s dorm (who was facing this taxing challenge of acting normal around his hyung). It didn’t go beyond that really.
He wasn’t used to this silence and peace, he never really went out in the rain, calling it the perfect time to just play games with his friends. However, it was truly hard to pinpoint what made him rush out like this, only coming back to reality once he reached the lecture hall area. He was about to keep walking when he saw you pushing through the doors with Haechan beside you. Jake knew him, he was Jeno’s friend and also one of the dude who fucked around a lot.
Jake wasn’t any better by any means, but he hadn’t even thought of such a thing in the past eleven days. He simply stopped, watching how your umbrella showed no signs of cooperating in this windy weather, and your shoulders were starting to hunch in the same way Jake had noticed during his half time game yesterday.
He jogged to you, dismissing any other thought, especially the one that sounded a lot like Jay’s voice laughing at him for being too involved, “hey—wait up!”
You turned around, rain evident on your lashes already, and in that fleeting second, your mind was quick to admit his beauty under the dimness of the evening.
He lifted his umbrella higher, covering you completely as you lowered yours, the wide canopy shutting out the worst of the storm and pulling the two of you into a small, private bubble.
“Jay’s over at your dorm with Jungwon right now,” he said, a little out of breath, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “He needed some notes or something. I was heading there anyway to pick him up. Come on, my umbrella’s bigger.”
You glanced at your own umbrella, which was flapping uselessly, “I have one.”
“Yeah, but it’s not doing you much good,” Jake replied, stepping closer so the shelter stayed perfectly over you. His shoulder brushed yours as you started walking, “seriously—you’ll be soaked before you even get halfway. Let me walk you.”
Haechan gave you a quick, amused look and muttered something about seeing you in lab tomorrow before disappearing down another path with a wave, making you roll your eyes as he made missy faces, which Jake noticed.
The two of you fell into step under the umbrella. Jake kept it tilted toward you even when it meant his own left side kept getting wet. The closeness was apparent, his arm warm against yours, the faint clean scent of his shampoo mixing with the wet earth and rain. Every time you stepped around a puddle, his sleeve brushed your wrist, sending a small spark up your arm.
For a minute the only sound was the rain. Then Jake spoke, voice low and a little playful, “you know, I was halfway convinced you’d avoid me today after yesterday.”
You let out a small breath of laughter, “I thought about it, then I remembered I don’t own a boat and the campus flooded.”
He grinned, glancing down at you. The way the rain made your lashes look darker, the little droplets clinging to your skin, made his stomach flip, “lucky for me then. I would’ve been stuck walking alone, getting soaked, feeling so sorry for myself.”
“You’re still getting soaked,” you pointed out, noticing how his left shoulder was dark with water. Without thinking you shifted a little closer under the umbrella, your arm pressing more firmly against his.
Jake bit down his smile, “worth it. Besides, you’re warm and It’s nice.” His voice dropped a fraction, “are you always freezing or is it just me that brings the chill?”
You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved despite yourself, “It’s the rain, genius. Though you do have a habit of making normal things seem complicated.”
“Complicated in a good way, I hope,” he said, the words light but his eyes searching yours for a second longer than necessary. His free hand brushed yours again as you both avoided another puddle, and this time his fingers lingered for half a second before he managed to pull himself back.
The rain kept falling, steady and heavy, but under the umbrella everything felt smaller, rather warmer, you noticed how steady his breathing was, how the warmth of him seemed to chase away the chill seeping into your bones. He bit the inside of his cheek because in that moment, he wasn’t really acting, the wanton ease you provided him with was too real.
“You’re weird,” you muttered, clearly not meaning any bit of it, and he knew the implication behind it, or maybe it was his maladaptive daydreaming.
The dorm building appeared through the silver curtain of rain. Jake slowed deliberately, drawing the last few steps out as if the walk could stretch forever. When you reached the small covered overhang by the entrance, he lowered the umbrella but didn’t step away. Instead he moved in closer, guiding you gently until your back met the cool brick wall. The overhang sheltered you both from the downpour, but the world narrowed to the narrow space between your bodies and the solid wall behind you.
He was close now, so close you could see the tiny freckles across his cheek, the way his damp hair curled softly at the temples yet again, the faint flush across the bridge of his nose from the cold. His gaze moved over your face with quiet hunger, taking in every detail—the way rain glistened on your skin, the soft flush on your cheeks, the faint dimple that appeared when your lips parted slightly. You looked so pretty like this, natural and glowing in the dim light, and the sight made his throat tighten.
You raised your eyebrow, heart hammering against your ribs, “Jake?”
He only smiled, slow and unsteady, biting down on his bottom lip as he leaned in closer, closer, until the space between you was almost gone. His eyes dropped to your mouth, dark and wanting, then lifted again to meet yours. In that suspended second neither of you were thinking about the bet, about the car, about the game you were both playing. There was only the rain, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the dizzying pull that made everything else disappear.
Right then the dorm door swung open with a loud metallic scrape.
Jay stepped out, nearly walking straight into the moment. He stopped short, eyes widening as he took in how close you and Jake were standing against the wall.
“Whoa, Y/N?” Jay said, a smirk already spreading across his face, “am I interrupting something?”
Your eyes widened in realization and you slipped sideways, ducking under Jake’s arm without a word. You pushed through the door and disappeared inside, cheeks burning, the echo of the almost-kiss still buzzing hot in your mind.
Jake stayed frozen, then groaned hard. He turned and leaned back against the same brick wall, eyes falling shut as the rain continued to fall around him, umbrella now lowered. His heart was still racing, loud and unsteady, the ghost of your warmth lingering against his chest.
He let out a slow breath, jaw tight. I’m going to kill Jay.
CHAPTER SIX: Jaemin the instigator.
Jake had only read a few books in his life, only one of which had a plot that truly stuck with him as someone who was never an avid enjoyer of reading literature. There was a line that kept replaying in his mind lately, more often than he cared to admit.
As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen.
Funny enough, it was from Winnie the pooh.
It isn’t a romantic line, not even remotely, but he manages to fit it into his narrative perfectly, especially during the quiet. Mind drifting back to when the rain had been dripping from the eaves and your back had been against the brick and he’d leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of your breath. The bet had started as a stupid game. Now it felt like the kind of quiet adventure he hadn’t seen coming.
Unfortunately, the distraction followed him to the practice field.
During a simple change-of-direction drill, his mind slipped again. The ball came low across the turf and Jake planted his left foot to cut inside, making his ankle roll with an ugly twist. It wasnt anything dramatic, just a sharp flare of pain that shot up his calf and dropped him to one knee, breath hissing between his teeth.
Jay reached him first, crouching down fast, “shit, Jake, what the hell? You good?”
Heeseung slowed beside them, still breathing hard, “dude, you’ve been completely zoned out all week, like—really zoned out. This bet is fucking with your head too much, just call it off, man. For real.”
Sunghoon hung back a step, arms crossed, watching quietly, “coach is gonna notice, y’know? It’s not worth it.”
Jake sat back on the grass, testing the ankle with a careful flex, the place already swelling under the sock. Minor, probably, but it hurt enough to make his eyes sting for a second,“It’s fine,” he muttered, forcing the usual half-smile, “just a tweak—I’m good.”
From the edge of the drill Jaemin let out a soft, pleased laugh, “or this is actually perfect timing. Wounded-puppy Jake? She’s gonna eat it up.” He clapped Jake on the back once, “I’ll handle it. You just stay looking all soft and grateful.”
Jay shot him a sharp look, “Jaemin, I swear to God—”
But Jaemin was already jogging off to find you.
You were stepping out of your last lecture when Jaemin fell into step beside you, which was kind of scary.
“Jake’s in the medical room,” Jaemin said casually, making your eyes go wide at the sudden voice, “twisted his ankle pretty bad at practice. Trainer’s got him taped up with ice, might even sit out the next game if it swells.”
A flicker of worry did pass through your head, but then you shrugged, “hm, kinda sounds minor.”
Jaemin’s smirk was small, “c’mon, this is perfect for the bet. He’s all vulnerable right now, best time for you to go and play nurse, make him fall a little harder. You’re already halfway there anyway.” He bumped your shoulder lightly.
You sighed, the worry sitting heavier than you wanted to admit. Pretty bad, he’d said, “fine—I’ll check on him.”
Jaemin grinned, satisfied, “atta girl.” He peeled off toward the dorms.
You told yourself you weren’t going to bring anything. But the cafeteria line was short, and the smell of warm rice and simple broth pulled you in anyway. You ended up with a container of congee, a cold can of the original red bull, and two slightly squished steamed buns. Your hands stayed steady, but your pulse? Yeah, it didn’t.
The medical room door was halfway open. You knocked once with your elbow and stepped inside.
Jake was on the padded table, left leg propped up, ice pack soggy at the edges. His practice jersey hung open, undershirt damp against his chest, dark curls still messy and sticking to his temples. He looked tired—shoulders a little slumped, the usual bright energy dialed way down. For a second you just stood there in the doorway, and Jake’s eyes lifted to meet yours.
He gulped at the sight of you, the way a few strands of hair had slipped loose after class, the small crease between your brows that you probably didn’t even realize was there. You looked pretty like this.
Jay and Heeseung were hovering nearby. The second they saw you with the bag, they exchanged a quick glance.
Jay cleared his throat, lips twitching, “well, look who showed up.”
Heeseung pushed off the wall with a low chuckle, “we were just leaving anyway. Coach wants us back on the field.” He gave Jake’s shoulder a gentle clap. “Don’t be an idiot, yeah?” The two of them slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving the room suddenly quieter.
Jake cleared his throat, bottom lip bitten as he observed you walking closer, “I—you didn’t have to come,” he mumbled, flustered all of a sudden.
“You’re really being shy at me visiting you? Aren’t you the flirt of the campus?” You chuckled, “but yeah, heard you fucked up your ankle pretty bad, figured you’d be hungry.”
His ears flushed red, “yeah, well—I wasn’t expecting anyone here, least of all you showing up here with food,” he shifted on the padded table, wincing a little, “thanks, genuinely. I was mentally preparing myself to order takeout today.”
You set the bag on the counter, pulling out the container and a spoon, handing them over. Your fingers brushed his, absorbing the warmth of his skin, and he took the food with a grateful smile.
He peeled the lid back and took the first bite. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second. “God, this is actually really good,” he murmured, “way better than anything I would’ve scavenged later.” He ate quietly after that, the spoon scraping softly against the plastic, but every few bites his gaze lifted to you.
You dragged the plastic stool closer and sat down beside the table, elbow resting on the edge near his good leg, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the small crease between his brows when he shifted his ankle, the way his damp hair fell across his forehead. He looked softer like this, stripped of the usual energy—which you had grown accustomed to.
“Does it hurt too much?” You asked.
Jake shrugged one shoulder, “throbs like a bitch when I put any weight on it. Nurse said it’s just a swelling, I’ll survive.” He took another bite, then glanced at you again, heart warm at the sight of you going out of your way to be here—even though it stemmed from Jaem’s instigations. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I know you had a full day.”
“It wasn’t that far out of the way,” you lied, because admitting you’d gone to the cafeteria on purpose felt too revealing, “besides, someone had to make sure you didn’t try to be a hero and walk on it.”
He let out a low chuckle, “guilty, I probably would’ve.” He set the container down for a moment, fingers brushing the edge of the table near your arm. The contact was light, accidental, but it stayed there a second too long, “you’re really something else, you know that?”
You felt the heat creep up your neck but didn’t pull away, instead, you leaned in a little closer, resting your chin on your folded arms on the edge of the table, “eat the rest before it gets cold, idiot. I’m not carrying you anywhere.”
Jake grinned, small and crooked, but his eyes stayed soft on your face. He kept eating, slower now, like he was dragging the moment out. Your eyelids grew heavy. The day pressed down on you all at once—the lectures, the walking, the quiet ache of pretending this was still just part of the game. You let your head rest fully on your arms, cheek against the cool edge of the table, close enough that your breath stirred the fabric of his shirt. Just for a minute, you told yourself.
You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of his breathing, the faint scent of ginger and him all mixed together, and your eyes slipped shut completely.
Jake went completely still.
He set the spoon down without a sound and lowered himself back onto the table until he was lying flat, turning his head so he could look at you properly. You were right there—head pillowed on your arms on the edge of the table, breathing slow and even, lashes dark against your skin, lips slightly parted. A strand of hair had fallen across your face. He reached out without thinking, fingertips barely grazing it before he caught himself and pulled back.
Would it make any sense for Jake to feel this unexpected emotion he still couldn’t quite pinpoint? Maybe his friends were right, he didn’t really need to follow through with whatever the bet was about. It really wasn’t worth hurting you, or himself—but then, did you even think of him as someone close to you? Perhaps as a friend at least?
He let out a slow, shaky breath, and resorted to watching you—the way your shoulder rose and fell, the way your fingers formed a cute fist, how you let your guard down enough for your body to trust itself to fall asleep right next to him. Perhaps it was something small, yet to him, it was grand.
So, he just lay there, inches away from you, letting the silence settle as his mind spun in circles he couldn’t stop.
CHAPTER SEVEN: Holy stalker
“So, you spent hours sleeping with him?”
“You’re literally wording it wrong Jungwon.”
“And you almost kissed right outside the dorm—”
“Can you guys stop?” You groaned, but Karina was far from done, she was just getting started actually.
“—you can’t fucking lie to us, like genuinely you were smiling when you came in yesterday and today. What’s next? Fucking him at a party?”
“Oh god—nothing is happening, what is wrong with you both?” You stand up from the couch, turning to stare at both your friends, who sat rather comfortably with their arms crossed.
“This is not nothing, I’m just asking you, what’s the end point? Where would you draw the line, hm? If it requires physicality for him to actually fall in love with you, would you do it?”
Well, Karina did have a point.
“We’re grown adults with active sex life so, why would that change anything?” You finish, almost defensive.
Karina’s eyebrows shot up so fast it was almost comical. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, that wicked grin spreading slow across her face, “oh my god, listen to you. Active sex life, babe, you haven’t had dick in months and now you’re out here acting like it’s no big deal if Jake Sim rails you for the sake of the bet? Be so fucking for real right now.”
Jungwon nearly spit out his coffee, “Rina—”
“No, no, let me speak,” Karina cut him off, waving a hand without breaking eye contact with you, “I’m not judging, I’m just saying—if he’s already got you smiling like an idiot and almost-kissing you against a wall in the rain, what’s stopping you from seeing how far it goes? You gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen counter just to watch his ego implode when you ghost him after? Because honestly? I’d pay to see that. But don’t lie to yourself and say it’s all strategy when you’re feeling that way for him.”
You felt your face burn hot, “It’s not like that. I’m not—god, I’m not planning on sleeping with him, okay? I’m still in control.”
Karina barked out a laugh, “look, I love you, but if you’re gonna play this game, at least own it, and you’re allowed to enjoy the ride before you drop him and collect our Paris trip. Just don’t catch feelings and cry to us when the car means more to him than you do.”
Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, looking equal parts amused and concerned, “she’s got a point, even if she’s saying it like a psycho. Just be careful, I still don’t trust him around you, but you’re always welcome to cry to us.”
You threw a pillow at Karina’s head. It bounced off her shoulder and she just cackled harder, “you two are the worst. Go to class before I actually kick you out.”
They finally dragged themselves up—Jungwon pulling you into a quick, tight hug and muttering, “text me if it gets weird,” before heading out, Karina pausing in the doorway to shoot you one last teasing smirk, “If you do end up letting him hit, at least make him beg first. Love you, bitch.” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the dorm suddenly, blissfully quiet.
You let out a long breath and flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Your lab had been cancelled last minute—the TA had blown up the group chat at 8:47 with some excuse about electrophoresis set up not working—and now the whole morning stretched out empty in front of you.
Too much time to think about yesterday, or the day before that, or—
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, thankfully breaking the train of your thoughts. You grabbed it lazily, expecting another spam message from the group chat. Instead it was an Instagram DM.
jake.sim:
hey
didn’t have your number so i figured i’d slide in here like a normal person instead of showing up at your door like a creep
Your lip twitched, just a smidge, because of course Jake would find your instagram and text out of nowhere.
you:
hi
and you still managed to sound like a creep anyway
The three dots popped up instantly, like he’d been waiting with his phone in his hand.
jake.sim:
fair actually
listen, random question
is your oven working? mine’s been dead for two days and i’m craving something sweet
You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Of course he had friends with working ovens. Half the football house probably had better kitchens than you did. But he was asking you, specifically.
you:
yeah it works
why
jake.sim:
can i come bake a cake at your place?
i’ll bring everything
just wanna spend time with you, if that’s cool
Your stomach did a stupid little flip, and you groaned. What have you even come to?
you:
sure
door’s unlocked if you’re fast enough
Twenty minutes later there was a soft knock. You opened it to find Jake standing there in his black hoodie and grey sweats, hair still a little damp from a shower, maybe. Arms full of grocery bags, and he looked unfairly good, but when he shifted the bags higher on his arm you caught the tiniest wince in his leg. He hid it fast with that easy grin.
“Hey,” he breathed out, staring at just how comfortable you looked in shorts, “thanks for letting me invade, i come bearing burgers to show my gratitude.”
You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way his eyes dragged down your bare legs for half a second before snapping back up, “didn’t you say you wanted a cake?” You raised your eyebrow.
His grin turned a little sheepish, “cake’s the whole point, yes. Burgers are just—extra, i saw you eating this with Jungwon two days back so—”
“So you are a stalker—”
“Just observant,” he finished quickly, stepping inside as you moved out of the way. The door clicked shut behind him and he realized that your flatmates were not home, leaving the place to you and him, “not in a creepy way though.”
You just nodded, as if humouring him, eyes fixed on his hands—which were veiny as hell somehow—unpacking the stuff including flour, sugar, eggs, and well, every ingredient needed for a good cake, before giving you a burger (he got two extras, just in case).
Hopping on the edge of the counter, you unwrapped the burger as he took all the bowls out with you pointing around the cabinets. The room itself was silent but his eyes? Pretty shameless, you’d admit, because his focus was more on your ridden shorts than the flour.
Jake caught himself after a second, lips twitching like he knew exactly what he was doing, “you really gonna sit there and not help me?”
You took a bite of the burger, chewing slowly while holding his gaze, “you’re the one who begged to come over and use my oven. Eyes on the bowl, Jake.”
He laughed under his breath, and went back to the flour, but the glance he stole at your legs was anything but subtle, “easier said than done when you’re sitting right there looking like that,” he mumbled to himself as he started scooping ingredients, movements smooth despite the way he kept most of his weight on his left leg, “pass me the sugar?”
You did so without getting down. He reached past you anyway, arm brushing the side of your thigh, and didn’t pull back right away. When you finally slid off the counter to actually help, he didn’t give you much space, he handed you the whisk and stepped right behind you, chest brushing your back as he reached around to adjust your grip on the handle.
“Easy circles,” he murmured, voice dropping close to your ear, “you can be gentle with it, y’know?”
Be gentle with me—is what he wished to say, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much he enjoyed your grumpiness as well, and he was almost eager to find what more you had to offer.
His hand stayed over yours, so warm and steady, the other settled lightly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your tank top to brush bare skin. You could feel every small shift of his body against yours, the clean scent of his hoodie mixing with the butter and vanilla already in the air.
“You’re crowding me,” you said, dry but not moving away.
“Am I?” His thumb traced one slow line along your hip, “didn’t hear you telling me to back up.”
You elbowed him lightly, feeling lightheaded, because it was odd how he actually achieved to bring out your playful side in what? Fourteen days since his bet started. But it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, “focus on the cake, not my legs.”
He leaned in, “trying and failing pretty badly.” His thumb traced one slow circle on your hip, right where your tank top had ridden up, and your pulse jumped harder. The touch was light, but it felt deliberate, like he was testing how long you’d let him stay this close.
The banter stayed easy after that, but every word felt—crazy. He teased you about not knowing how to bake (you actually didn’t). You told him he was being annoyingly precise for a guy who claimed he just wanted to hang out. Finally the batter came together, perfectly thick, smooth, and chocolatey. You scraped it into the pan he’d already greased, and Jake slid it into the oven without a word. He set the timer, then turned to you, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin.
“Twenty-five minutes,” he said, eyes flicking over you again, “think we can behave ourselves till then?”
You raised an eyebrow, still catching your breath from how close he’d been, “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”
Before he could answer, you flicked a leftover pinch of cocoa at his cheek—light, almost absentminded, but enough to leave a small dark smudge, shocking yourself at the easiness of it all.
Jake blinked, then his grin turned wild, “oh, it’s like that?”
He scooped a small handful of leftover flour from the counter and flicked it right back at you. It exploded in a soft white cloud across your tank top and collarbone. You gasped, eyes widening, and retaliated instantly—grabbing more flour and tossing it at his chest. Another puff burst between you, dusting the front of his black hoodie and catching in his hair.
“Seriously?” He laughed, already scooping more, “you started it, babe.”
You tried to duck behind the island, but the kitchen was tiny and he was faster, even with the slight limp. He caught you around the waist mid-step, pulling you back as he flung another handful. Flour went everywhere—exploding in soft bursts across your arms, your hair, the counter. You twisted in his hold, laughing despite yourself, and managed to smear a streak of cocoa down his cheek before he spun you again.
He couldn’t explain it, but having you laugh so freely in his presence—him making you laugh, yeah, it felt pretty damn good, and this smile was way better than you had given Jungwon in the earlier days of Jake chasing you—not that he was comparing (he was).
Your back hit the edge of the counter, both of you breathing harder now, covered in white powder and cocoa streaks. His hands stayed locked on your waist, thumbs pressing in, meanwhile yours ended up fisted in the front of his hoodie, pulling without thinking. Flour clung to his lashes, dusted his hair, streaked across his jaw. Your heart was hammering, butterflies rioting in your stomach, every inch of you hyper-aware of how close he was, how warm his body felt through the thin layers between you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes dropping straight to your mouth, “you’ve got flour on your lip.”
“So do you,” you whispered.
Jake didn’t wipe it away. He leaned in slow, giving you every chance to stop him. Your breath caught again, but you closed the last inch anyway.
His lips were just as soft as they appeared to be, but more hungry than you could fathom, or manage. It felt consuming, the way his mouth moved against yours with this urgency but also a silent battle of him holding back. A low sound rumbled in his chest when your lips parted, granting his tongue the excess it so desperately craved.
It slid in slow, tasting faintly of the bitter cocoa and flour, your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you were sure he could feel it. Butterflies erupted low in your stomach, fluttering all around hard enough, it made your thighs press instinctively around his hips.
Bet. Bet. Bet.
The words flashed sharp in the back of your mind, but it dissolved rather quickly when Jake’s hand slid higher under your tank top, palm hot and rough against the bare skin of your back, fingers spreading wide as if he was trying to cover the expanse of your skin. His other hand stayed locked at your waist, thumb digging in just enough to anchor you against him while he kissed you deeper—slower, learning the shape of your mouth.
Everything else was forgotten for both him and you. All that existed was the warmth of his body pressed flush to yours, the faint scratch of his hoodie against your arms, the way his breath hitched when you tugged harder at the front of it.
“Yeah—fuck, like that,” he murmured against your lips, “kiss me back harder, c’mon, pretty.”
And so you did, tongue sliding against his in a messy push-pull that made his breath hitch, “you came over here to bake a cake,” you managed between kisses, sarcastic even as your hips rolled forward to meet his, “not to end up grinding on me in my kitchen.”
Jake laughed low against your mouth, the sound wrecked, and pressed his hips forward harder, letting you feel exactly how hard he was getting through his sweats, “pretty sure you started the flour fight, sweetheart. Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for this.” He kissed you deeper, tongue stroking yours in a filthy rhythm while he ground against you slow and deliberate, the friction pulling a sharp breath from you, “there, yeah. Feel that? That’s what you do to me every time you look at me like that, so fucking pretty.”
“Shut up,” you shot back, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan, then soothing it with your tongue. You rocked your hips right back into his, matching his pace, “you talk too much.”
He grinned against your mouth, that cocky little curve you could feel more than see, and rolled his hips again, slower this time, dragging right where it made your breath catch, “and you fucking love it.” His hand tightened on your waist, holding you steady as he kept that steady, grinding rhythm, “but keep doing that with your hips—yeah, baby, just like that—fuck.”
The oven timer went off, making you realize exactly how much time you’d devoted to this unholy activity.
You both froze, foreheads pressed together, chests heaving. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and glassy, breath hot against your mouth. Jake let out a rough, breathless chuckle, still holding you close, thumb stroking slow circles on your waist like he couldn’t stop touching you, “cake’s done.”
You dropped your head to his shoulder, a quiet laugh escaping you too, “this is insane.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, lips brushing your temple before he kissed the corner of your mouth once, lingering for a few seconds, then helped you slide down off the counter, hands steady on your hips the whole way, like he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment slip away.
It felt too—intimate, not that the act of making out wasn’t on par, it clearly was, but this? It carried more emotion than just your everyday lust.
While the cake cooled on the rack, he prepared the frosting, letting everything take place before he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small box of candles, trying to focus on regulating his breathing, and you started with your eyebrows lifted.
“Candles? For a random cake?”
He shrugged, cheeks going a little pink under the flour, “It’s for you, actually. Kinda a thank you? You sat with me after the practice when my leg was fucked, nobody else would’ve stuck around like that. Figured I owed you something sweet.”
You stared at him for a second, because this felt too genuine again, “Jake, that’s—”
“Crazy?” He laughed softly, lighting the candles anyway. They flickered golden in the morning light, “yeah, maybe. But you make me want to do crazy shit.”
You shook your head, the word “dork” slipping out quiet and fond before you could stop it. He just grinned, making you blow the candles, and yet again, you indulged in his theatrics before he managed to cut two big slices, sliding one over to you.
The cake was actually perfect, and it was clear that there wasn’t anything Jake Sim couldn’t do, maybe he couldn’t make you fall for him, but even you weren’t too sure, granted that you’d been smiling, and it wasn’t fake by any means. You took a bite and hummed in surprise, Jake watched you the whole time with a satisfied look on his face.
Then he scooped a bit of frosting onto his finger and held it out, eyes locked on yours, “here—try it this way.”
You leaned in and took it off his finger with your lips, slow. His breath hitched hard, and when you pulled back, he brought the same finger to his own mouth and licked the rest off, shameless and unhurried, tongue dragging over the pad like he was tasting you instead of frosting.
“Fuck,” he murmured, stepping close again, hands finding your waist like they belonged there, “you’re gonna kill me, YN.”
If domesticity with you felt like this, then Jake swears he can give up his parties just to spend an extra minute holding you close to his heart—which never lied. Jake was never dumb, not even now. He had always been quick to acknowledge his feelings, which screamed at him that nothing else mattered in this moment, just him and you. When you started to look in his eyes again, you gulped.
Because all that existed was him looking at you like this was exactly where he wanted to be.
CHAPTER EIGHT: Redbull gives you wings
“The fuck?”
Jay frowned, staring at his best friend.
The sight was diabolical to say the least, the smile on Jake’s face despite it all—idiotic. There was no way to describe it, at least for Jay, who couldn’t fathom what absurd war Jake had gotten into to return back home with flour on his hair and body, and wait was that a Tupperware full of chocolate cake in his hands?
Jake didn’t bother with explanations, simply dropping the box on Jay’s lap, courtesy of you packing some up saying how he’d managed to make way too much for a single person.
With how loud Jay’s voice had been, Sunghoon and Heeseung managed out come out of their rooms, equally as confused.
“Explain,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting next to Jay and grabbing a piece of cake.
“Nothing really, i just went to bake a cake with Y/N,” he managed to let out, still dazed.
“And she decided to maul you with flour?” Heeseung winced, brushing some power off of Jake’s hair, “seems like you lost the fight.”
“C’mon, she started it, so of course I didn’t stop at that—and things, uhm, escalated.”
Right then, Hoon took a big bite of the sweet, regret clear on his face, nose wrinkling, “what the fuck, dude—there’s a whole patch of raw flour in the middle.”
Well, that batch was put in after the flour fight, which would explain the quality difference.
Heeseung, who had already taken a forkful, shrugged and kept eating happily, “tastes fine to me. A bit lumpy, but the chocolate fixes it.”
Jay refused to touch it, not being polite in the way he pushed the whole container towards Heeseung, “yeah, I’m not eating that. And why do you look like you just got laid?”
Jake rubbed a hand over his jaw, the corners of his mouth still curved up, “we may have gotten a little distracted after the cake went in the oven.”
Heeseung choked, “distracted, how?”
Jake shrugged, not even trying to hide how pleased he was, “by kissing—a lot, oh god it felt good.”
Jay dragged both hands down his face, “you went over there to make her fall for you and ended up making out with her in the kitchen? Jake, what the hell is going on with you? You’ve barely looked at any other girl in weeks.”
Jake didn’t answer right away. He just picked up a piece of the slightly floury cake and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully even though it really wasn’t that great.
“I’m thankful though, I can finally sleep without having to hear moans each fucking night,” Heeseung shudders, mind drifting back to how loud Jake and his night partners used to be.
Sunghoon barked out a laugh, “yeah, we went from daily noise complaints to peaceful silence. Did you catch feelings or did she put her tear drop into the cake batter?”
“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Jake mumbled, though the tips of his ears turning red said otherwise, “and we’re not in Descendants.”
They all just stared at him, till he managed to huff, sitting down on the couch which offered no space to him, dirtying it in the process, “it’s just—it’s nice, okay? I don’t have to be loud or use up all my energy around her, it feels calm to be there even in silence.”
Jay almost gagged, “calm? Did you just change your whole personality cause you’re in love now?”
Sunghoon was grinning, “next thing you know he’ll be holding her hand on campus and calling her baby in public, and trust, I’ll be documenting every bit of it.”
Jake threw a small piece of cake at him, missing on purpose, “you guys are annoying as hell. Can we talk about something else?”
The boys kept teasing him for a few more minutes—throwing in dramatic predictions about Jake turning into a full boyfriend and suggestions to get him a I’m in my soft era shirt before finally letting it go and arguing about tomorrow’s practice instead. Jake just leaned back on the couch, half-listening, the small smile never quite leaving his face.
Because he knew things had changed, and so did you. It was a gradual shift, from you tolerating Jake’s presence to enjoying it (well, some part of you did at least). The idea of seeing him often didn’t make you groan in agony, it felt like a routine granted Jake had your schedule memorized to his bones, and he made it his mission to randomly appear and fall in step with you without making it awkward.
“Hey, got you some coffee,” he’d naturally say, always bringing the latte, but he did make you try out an overly sweet drink which he fancied, and somehow, you didn’t hate it.
It was concerning to say the least, your friends being more concerned than you, but of course no one was blind to the fact that maybe Jake was more deep in this than you were, and that bit was not an act, not anymore at least.
It only escalated when one afternoon, you showed up at his practice session without him having you ask, a cold can of coconut berry red bull tucked in your bag. When you tossed it his way, his whole face lit up and he stared at you with such warmth, it seemed like his eyes were shining. It wasn’t a big deal, right?
Wrong. Jake knew it didn’t take a lot to do something for others, but you’d noticed his favourite flavour—you’d managed to remember it despite him having not mentioned it.
He was glad it was break time, cause he immediately cracked it open, “you remembered?”
You wanted to slap yourself for how hard it was to not smile at him, so you managed a shrug, “yeah, not a big deal.”
He stepped closer, still in his practice jersey, hair slightly damp from running drills, and you noticed how they’d grown longer, the afternoon sun catching on the sharp line of his collarbone. For a second he just looked at you, “it’s a big deal when you do it.”
The way he said it was enough to send a warm flutter through your chest that you quickly tried to ignore. You crossed your arms, pretending to watch the team stretching behind him, “don’t make it weird, Sim.”
“I’m not,” he replied, but the small grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. He took another sip, eyes never really leaving your face, and he swore, it was the best drink he’d ever had.
It almost felt like you were flying in the moment, as cheesy as it might be, maybe you’d blame redbull for giving you wings or whatever.
There were other small things too. He started saving you the quiet corner seat in the library because he knew you liked your back to the wall. You’d gotten him a hair tie when you noticed the length of his hair again, and the second he tied his hair, even you were rendered speechless for a moment.
The way it exposed the clean line of his jaw and the sharp cut of his cheekbones made something in your stomach tighten unexpectedly. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending you hadn’t noticed, oh but he noticed, and leaned in till his nose brushed against yours, “how do i look?” he’d asked.
“Good,” you remember breathing out, making him smile and lean in further, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before jogging back to the field, where three of his friends stood with their mouths hung open. It was a rather comical sight for anyone who watched from a distance.
At least to Jaemin, it was. He was always lurking around, and no one knew what he was trying to achieve. Jeno could only shake his head standing beside him, but well.
Anyway, as if that wasn’t enough, Jake would send you random memes at 2 a.m. when he knew you were still up studying, and you’d reply with a dry “go to sleep” that always made him smile at his phone like an idiot.
Jake had truly forgotten about the bet.
The whole stupid game barely crossed his mind anymore. He wasn’t playing anymore. He just wanted to be around you.
You were trying to bury the memory of the bet deep inside too. Every time it tried to creep up, you shoved it back down. You told yourself you were still in control, that this was all part of the plan. But the truth was simpler and scarier—you liked having him around. You liked the easy quiet when you studied together. You liked the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
And that terrified you more than anything.
CHAPTER NINE: Jealousy allegations?
“Are you like a hundred percent sure?”
You sighed, plopping on your bed with ease as you stared at Karina, who’d asked you this question at least, give or take, a million times.
“Yes, I am sure—gosh, you gotta stop,” you mumbled, running a hand over your skirt, while Karina shook her head.
“Trust me I have a feeling that something will happen tonight,” she exasperated for the nth time.
Jake was finally throwing that party he’d mentioned after his game a few days back, and to Heeseung courtesy, it wasn’t a small gathering anymore, but a full blown party at their dormitory which won’t even fit the amount of people he’d invited.
“What would happen? C’mon, I’m really okay,” you tried to reason.
“Okay? Girl, you’re practically beaming, and you got ready before I did, is that not proof enough?” She went on, doing her eyeliner by side, “you look hot as hell in that skirt by the way, I’ll be praying for Jake.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. The black skirt sat high on your waist, paired with a simple fitted top that showed just enough skin, and most importantly—you felt confident about yourself, which just completed the look altogether.
“Whatever. Let’s just go before I change my mind.”
Jungwon was already ready and waiting outside, and so you three went on as they both kept mumbling warnings in your ear, as if a child going outside alone for the first time.
“Seriously, if he gets weird just text me,” Jungwon said, half-joking.
Karina bumped your shoulder. “Or I’ll drag you out myself. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”
You just shook your head and kept walking.
The dorm was loud when you stepped inside, music playing from the living room and voices overlapping in every corner. The place smelled like pizza and cheap beer (of course), the usual Saturday night mess. People were everywhere—some chilling on the couches, others crowding the kitchen for drinks.
You hadn’t even taken three steps before Jake spotted you.
He was mid-conversation with Jay near the counter, cup halfway to his mouth, when he froze. His eyes locked on you and stayed there, dragging slowly from your face down to the skirt and back up again. For a second he looked completely thrown, like someone (you) had knocked the air out of him. Then he was moving, crossing the room in a straight line without saying a word to anyone, and Jay only shook his head with a small smile.
The second he reached you he pulled you into a hug.
His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand splaying across your lower back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He buried his face in your hair for a long moment, breathing you in like he needed it. You felt his chest rise and fall against yours, warm and solid, completely forgetting your friends who tried to process the situation from a respectful distance.
“Fuck,” he muttered into your hair, voice low and rough, “you look—I don’t even know what to say right now.”
You laughed softly against his shoulder, letting yourself relax into the hug, “hi, Jake.”
He didn’t let go right away. His thumb rubbed a slow circle on your back, almost absentminded, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were darker than usual, a little dazed, “you’re actually trying to kill me tonight, huh?”
You raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile, “It’s just a skirt.”
“It’s not just a skirt,” he said, voice quieter. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing the edge of the fabric like he couldn’t help it.
You were about to tease him some more when he finally loosened his hold, stepping half a step back so he could actually look at you properly. His eyes flicked down again, then back up, and he let out a small breath like he was trying to collect himself.
That was when Sunoo wandered over from the kitchen, two cups in hand, spotting you both.
“Hey, Y/N,” Sunoo said, voice bright and easy like it always was in lab, “you actually came. I was starting to think you’d bail after that nightmare protocol we had last night.”
You turned toward him with a small laugh, “yeah, I almost did, Karina basically dragged me here,” you lied easily.
Sunoo grinned, holding out one of the cups, “here, sprite with lime. I know you hate the sweet crap they make in the kitchen.”
Jake raised his brow, almost ready to scoff because you did like sweet drinks, and whoever this man was clearly didn’t know you enough.
“Thanks,” you said, taking it, “needed that, the last lab almost killed me too.”
“Tell me about it,” Sunoo replied, leaning casually against the wall, “I spent twenty minutes trying to fix my gel after it kept tearing. Thought the TA was gonna cry with me.” He glanced at your outfit and nodded appreciatively. “By the way, that skirt looks really good on you. Way better than the lab coat.”
You let out a soft laugh, “appreciate it. Lab coat does no one any favors.”
Sunoo chuckled, “right? Anyway, how’s your presentation prep going? You were stressing about the lack of research papers ast class—”
From the corner of your eye, you saw Jake’s hand tighten slightly on your waist. He hadn’t moved away completely, still standing close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.
Across the room, Karina caught your eye from where she was standing with Jungwon near the couch. She raised her brows in a clear what the hell look, while Jungwon just shook his head slowly, arms crossed like he was already bracing himself. Jay, leaning against the kitchen counter with Heeseung and Sunghoon, muttered something that made all three of them glance over. Heeseung smirked, while Sunghoon shook his head again, amused. Jaemin, kicked back on the armchair nursing a drink, was outright grinning like he’d hit the jackpot.
Sunoo kept talking, completely unaware, asking a casual question about the upcoming quiz. You answered easily, laughing at the right moments because talking to Sunoo was just—simple? He was the same bubbly guy from lab who always offered to share notes honestly.
Jake’s jaw ticked though, he wasn’t happy with this situation at all.
After another minute of the easy back-and-forth, Jake’s hand slid firmly from your waist to your lower back.
“Hey,” he said to Sunoo, voice calm but edged, “mind if I steal her for a second?”
Sunoo blinked, then gave an easy, unbothered smile, “yeah, of course. Nice catching up, Y/N.”
Jake didn’t bother waiting really. His hand stayed steady on your lower back as he guided you through the living room, weaving between people chatting and laughing. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way they pressed a little harder than necessary against the fabric of your top. He didn’t say a word the whole way down the hallway. The party noise faded behind you, turning into a muffled hum.
The second his bedroom door clicked shut, Jake turned to face you, eyes dark, stepping in close, backing you up until your shoulders hit the door. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your head just slightly to the side.
“Ignoring me the second he came in to talk, hm?” He asked, voice low as his breath ghosted over your neck as he leaned in, lips barely brushing the skin just below your ear, “looking this good while doing so?”
You swallowed, “Jake, he was just—”
He cut you off by pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss right under your jaw. You felt his teeth graze lightly, then the warm drag of his tongue.
“Answer me,” he murmured against your skin, voice smug, “what was so funny?”
Your breath hitched, “It—it wasn’t anything, just talking about the lab—”
He simply granted you another kiss, slower this time, right by your pulse. His hand slid down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he sucked lightly on the same spot.
“You stuttered,” he said, the words warm against your neck, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “so fucking cute.”
You let out a shaky laugh, even as heat pooled low in your stomach, “you’re actually jealous right now, aren’t you?”
Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, not waiting as he leaned in and kissed you on the mouth—soft at first, almost sweet, like he was trying to shut you up gently. It didn’t last, the kiss deepening fast, his tongue sliding against yours until you were gripping his shirt tighter.
When he broke it, he was breathing harder, “yeah, I am. I don’t like watching you smile at someone else when I’m standing right there.”
You opened your mouth to tease him again, but he kissed you once more, firm, before you could get the words out.
“See?” He muttered against your lips, smirking, “try and be bratty if you want me to kiss you stupid.”
“Jake—” you started, voice already breathy.
He cut you off with another kiss, this one deeper, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a second.
“Keep going,” he chuckled, “tell me how ridiculous I’m being.”
You tried, you did, “you’re being ridiculous. Sunoo was just—”
Jake’s mouth was on your neck again, sucking a slow, wet mark right below your ear. You gasped, fingernails digging in his skin now.
“Wrong name coming out of your pretty lips, baby, try again,” he murmured, kissing the fresh mark.
“You’re fucking jealous,” you managed to say despite his previous confirmation of the same. Maybe you wanted to hear it again, maybe you wanted to feel the conviction of truth behind those words, the reality of it all.
He kissed your lips hard, swallowing the rest of your sentence, then moved back down to your neck, sucking another mark lower this time.
“Yeah,” he admitted yet again against your skin, “I hate it—hate how easy it was for him to make you laugh like that when it took me days.”
Your head tipped back against the door with a soft thud. He kept going—kissing, sucking, marking you up like he needed to claim every inch Sunoo had made you smile at. Every bratty little comment you tried to throw at him earned you another kiss on the mouth or a deeper suck on your neck until your legs were actually trembling.
Finally Jake straightened up, eyes hungry. Without a word he bent down, hooked his arms under your thighs, and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you the few steps to his bed and laid you down.
To have you so close to him was a maddening experience, words leaving his lips with ease, “you’re beautiful, you know that?”
Somewhere between the bet and the reality, you started getting used to his blatant sincerity he put into words. But this praise? It made you sigh blissfully, eyelids fluttering close despite not wanting to be separated from the sight of Jake getting closer to where you needed him the most.
He crawled over you, settling between your legs, and kissed you again—slow and deep this time.
“Still think I’m ridiculous?” He asked against your mouth, hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher.
You nodded, breathless, “very.”
Jake grinned, that same smug, jealous little smile, and kissed you once more before moving lower. He took his time with your neck again, sucking fresh marks while his hands worked your skirt up around your hips. When he reached the lace edge of your panties he paused, thumb brushing over the delicate fabric.
“These are pretty,” he murmured, hooking his fingers in them and slowly dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside somewhere, taking a note to pick it up later.
Then he settled between your thighs properly, spreading them wider. He looked up at you, hair falling messily around his face from the small ponytail, eyes gleaming as he mumbled the praises of your beauty as if he was here to worship your being instead of what seemed to be a punishment for making him jealous.
“Still got something smart to say?” He asked.
You opened your mouth, but the second his tongue dragged over you, slow and so perfectly warm—the words turned into a broken moan.
Jake groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating right against your clit. You reached down without thinking, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head. You pulled it out, letting his dark hair fall loose, then slid your hand into it and tugged hard.
Jake moaned louder against you, the vibration making your hips jerk.
“Fuck—do that again,” he breathed, voice wrecked.
You did, tugging on his hair as he ate you out like he had all the time in the world—long, deep licks followed by quick flicks of his tongue that had your thighs shaking around his shoulders. Every pull on his hair earned you another low groan that went straight through you.
“C’mon, tell me how it feels,” he spoke against you, and you groaned merrily.
It’s not that you didn’t have any experience before, because you did. But never once a guy made you feel like they actually cared about getting you off rather than them chasing their own pleasure. Their flick of tongues did nothing, but Jake? He seemed like even having his whole face pressed against you wasn’t enough, as if nothing could satiate how desperate he was to have not a molecule of space between you two.
A lot of things were in your mind, but you could only manage to choke out a few words, “so good—baby, it feels so good.”
If Jake hadn’t already lost his damn mind, your nickname certainly made him lose the last few of his working brain cells. The moan he let out was downright pornographic, and you could swear there wasn’t a sound prettier than that.
You were completely gone, back arching off the bed, fingers tight in his hair, lost in the wet heat of his mouth and the smug little sounds he kept making against you.
While you were wrapped up in this little bubble of unadulterated pleasure, outside the things were a bit different as Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon stood together, shaking their heads.
“He really just dragged her straight to his room,” Jay muttered.
Heeseung sighed, “not even trying to be subtle anymore.”
Sunghoon smirked, “a hundred fucking pounds says they don’t come out for a while.”
Karina, standing with Jungwon near the couch, crossed her arms and muttered, “I knew something was gonna happen tonight.”
Jungwon just sighed, looking resigned, “this is exactly what I was worried about.”
Jaemin, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair with the biggest grin on his face, looking far too pleased with himself.
“This is even better than I planned.”
CHAPTER TEN: Bet versus feelings.
“Are you out of your damn mind?”
The voice seemed to have echoed, because the same sentence was being uttered at the exact same second inside two different dorms, by two different people.
First being Jungwon, clearly directed towards you once you were done giving your side of the story to him.
Jake was undergoing the exact same procedure of questioning, causing Jay to scream in agony.
Things were clearly going perfectly, Jake was in too deep, you were in too deep, all for the bet, right? Right?
Because as far as acting was concerned, even it had limits, which certainly didn’t include getting eaten out and fingered all night. Cherry on the top was when you both fell asleep in each other’s arms with Jake caressing your back so gently, you learned the meaning of comfort in its truest scene.
So, why did it feel so easy when Jake kissed you in the morning, when he walked you back home with ease, talking normally as if everything was fine. Your heart broke a little at the thought of him just using you, and trust was a delicate topic for you. How could you even let yourself think that he actually wanted you when the whole relationship of yours was built on a pathetic bet. Which is why, you let yourself fall in deeper, to feel more of his warmth before it ends.
Before he could ask what was bothering you, a gentle kiss was placed on his lips, “bye, Jakey.”
The simple fact that you initiated the kiss had Jake smiling like an idiot before you walked inside your dorm, and he left for his own, heart thumping fast, almost in a way that it was synchronized.
And now you were here, eyes watering in front of your friends who could only pull you in a deep hug.
“Y/N, just tell him, just end this I swear,” Jungwon mumbled, and you didn’t know what to say, so you resorted to hugging them both till you fell asleep again.
Jake on the other hand—he couldn’t stop pacing around as the three watched him like a hawk, eyes moving in sync with every step he took across the living room.
Jay leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, looking way too smug, “I told you you’d fall for her.”
Jake stopped dead in his tracks, spinning around so fast he nearly tripped, “I didn’t fall. I’m not—fuck, okay maybe I did, but shut up.”
Sunghoon let out a loud laugh, slapping his knees “you dragged her into your room in front of everyone. You’re on your knees for her at this point.”
Heeseung was already cracking up, head thrown back, “the way you looked at Sunoo? Pure murder like, he didn’t even do shit.”
Jake groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “you guys are the worst. I was standing right there and she was laughing with him like it was the easiest thing in the world. I hate it.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, “you hate it? Or you’re jealous as hell?”
“Both,” Jake muttered, then dramatically dropped to his knees right in the middle of the living room, forehead hitting the floor with a thud, “I’m so fucked. What the hell is wrong with me?”
Jay let out a loud laugh, leaning forward on the couch, “wrong? It’s literally called love, Jake.”
“On your knees in the living room because a girl, you’re not yours by the way, smiled at someone else? Yeah, you’re fucked.” Sunghoon added helpfully.
Heeseung clapped slowly, “soft boy Jake is real. We’re witnessing history.”
Jake stayed on the floor for a second, breathing hard, face pressed against the carpet. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying last night—the way you’d gasped his name when he had his mouth on you, the way your thighs had shaken around his shoulders. How he couldn’t stop staring at you even after you came down, all soft and sleepy in his bed, lashes resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. You looked so beautiful like that, relaxed and trusting, nothing guarded in your expression for once. He’d kissed your forehead then, slow and careful, while you dozed off against his chest. Later, when he still couldn’t sleep, he’d grabbed his diary and sketched you—just the curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across the pillow, the small peaceful smile you had even in sleep. It wasn’t weird. It was just—you. He needed to remember exactly how it felt.
He groaned again, louder this time, “I’m so fucked.”
“So you’ve said.”
The boys kept teasing, but Jake was already thinking ahead.
He pushed himself up, hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, “whatever. Laugh all you want, I’m gonna ask her on a proper date.”
The room went quiet for half a second, observing him closely to find out any signs of humour or a joke.
Jay blinked, “you’re serious?”
“Yeah,” Jake said, grabbing his glasses, “I’m serious.”
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, still amused but skeptical, “you sure that’s a good idea right now? Things are already messy as hell.”
Heeseung nodded slowly, “moving kinda fast, don’t you think?”
Jake just shrugged, the stupid smile creeping back onto his face, “I don’t care, I want to do it right.”
The problem now was that Jake had never planned a date before, heck he’d never even dated before. He knew that something grand wouldn’t work, not right now at least, so when he woke up the next day, he had a few errands to run. Thankfully, he had only one lecture, after which he found himself running around the campus with a list, more motivated thann he’d ever been.
By late afternoon he found himself standing outside the biotech building, leaning against the wall near the main exit with his hands in his pockets. He knew your schedule by heart now. When you finally stepped out, backpack slung over one shoulder, he pushed off the wall and walked straight up to you.
You stopped, surprised, but the second he pulled you into a hug your expression softened. His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand rubbing your back like he needed the contact more than air, “hey,” he mumbled into your hair.
You smiled despite everything, pressing your face into his chest for a second, “Jake? What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice right now?”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist, “I skipped.”
“You skipped?” you asked, eyes widening a little.
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward but determined. “I want to take you out right now, just us, if you’ll let me.”
Your heart skipped. He was being so boldly awkward about it, standing there in the middle of the hallway like skipping practice for you was the most normal decision in the world.
You teased, trying to keep your voice light, “what if I say no?”
Jake’s face fell instantly, that hurt-puppy look laughed at you right in the heart—big eyes, slight pout, shoulders slumping just a little like you’d actually kicked his favorite ball into traffic. It was funny how you could compare him to puppies so often and he didn’t seem to mind.
“Then—I guess I’ll go back to practice,” he said quietly, voice cracking at the end, “but you’re really gonna say no?”
You didn’t know what to say, skipping classes wasn’t really something you did, unless you were sick beyond your ability to stand, however, a small voice within you screamed, skipping once wouldn’t hurt, right?
You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, sending a shiver up his arm, “lead the way, Sim.”
Jake’s whole face lit up like you’d just handed him the world, and maybe you did. He squeezed your hand once, tight, and started walking, pulling you gently along with him.
You walked side by side across the quad, the late afternoon sun warm on your skin. His thumb kept brushing slow circles over your knuckles, and the simple touch felt so grounding, so comfortable.
“Where are we going?” You asked after a minute, glancing up at him.
Jake grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s a secret.”
You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips, “you’re really not gonna tell me anything?”
“Nope,” he said, voice light and playful, “just trust me, okay?”
From a distance near the science building, Heeseung stood watching the two of you with a small smile, “they’re already acting like a couple,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head fondly.
When you reached the parking lot, Jake stopped in front of a sleek black car you didn’t recognize.
You looked back at Jake, “wait—you drive?”
Jake grinned, a little cocky as he opened the passenger door for you, “yeah, borrowed it from Jay. Figured walking you around campus wasn’t gonna cut it today.”
You slid in, the leather seat cool against the back of your thighs. Jake got in on the driver’s side, started the engine, then turned to you, looking a little nervous but hopeful.
“So, uh, what’s your favourite flower?” He asked, voice casual but his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel.
You raised your brow, surprised by the question, “Tulip, why?”
Jake let out a small, relieved breath. He reached into the backseat and pulled out three bouquets—a bright bunch of fresh tulips, a classic dozen roses, and a smaller mixed one with daisies and soft white flowers.
He handed them to you carefully, almost shy, “I wasn’t sure which ones you liked, so I got a few options. Just in case, thank god you chose one of those—”
You stared at the flowers in your lap, heart squeezing so hard it almost hurt. He had gone out and bought three different bouquets because he didn’t want to get it wrong, for you.
Before you could stop yourself, you leaned across the console and kissed him midway through his nervous ramble.
It was soft and grateful at first, but Jake melted instantly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek like he needed to hold onto the moment. When you pulled back, his eyes were a little dazed, lips parted, that stupid, lovestruck smile back on his face.
“God,” he whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, “you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”
You laughed softly, cheeks warm, and settled back into your seat with the bouquets still cradled in your lap. Jake grabbed your hand again, lacing your fingers together on the center console like he couldn’t stand not touching you.
He started driving, thumb still tracing slow circles over your knuckles, stealing little glances at you every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe you were here with him.
You were so fucked, and now, you didn’t even care.
The drive was short, just ten minutes out of campus to a quiet spot by the river. You’d passed it a few times before, always packed with students on weekends, but on a weekday afternoon it was practically empty—just the soft rush of water, a few birds, and the warm sun filtering through the trees.
Jake parked and killed the engine, then turned to you with that soft smile you’d grown to love, “wait here.”
He got out, popped the trunk, and came around to your side with a big picnic basket and a folded blanket. You watched him spread the blanket on a sunny patch of grass near the water, setting everything out with careful hands. There were little sandwiches you liked, fresh fruit, the coconut berry Red Bull he knew you’d steal from him, and even a small box of those chocolate cookies you’d mentioned once in passing.
You stepped out of the car, flowers still in your arms, feeling suddenly shy that was very out of your character, “Jake—you did all this?”
He looked up at you from where he was kneeling on the blanket, eyes bright, “yeah. Figured we deserved something nice, just us.”
You sat down beside him, cheeks warm, and he basked in it—the way you ducked your head a little, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, the small smile you couldn’t hide. He loved seeing you like this, unguarded and a little flustered because of him.
The sun got brighter as the afternoon stretched on. After you’d eaten and talked about nothing and everything, Jake stretched out and laid his head in your lap, looking up at you with those pretty eyes. No big smile this time—just quiet, almost reverent.
You reached down, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head, and gently pulled it out. His dark hair fell loose around his face. You slid your hand into it, playing with the strands, slow and gentle.
Jake let out a contented sigh, eyes never leaving your face.
“You know I have a dog named Layla?” He said quietly after a while, voice warm.
You smiled down at him, still running your fingers through his hair, “yeah? Tell me about her.”
“She’s a Border Collie. Super hyper, loves chasing balls, but she’s the biggest cuddler when she’s tired. She always knows when I’m having a bad day and just—sits next to me until I feel better.”
You laughed softly, “she sounds perfect.”
He hummed, eyes soft, “she is.”
Time passed easily between you. The river flowed steadily nearby, birds chirped overhead, and the sun warmed your skin. Jake told you how he loved singing but almost never did it in front of people because it felt too embarrassing. You told him how you were terrified of roller coasters and how you liked cats because they were quiet and independent. He almost gasped when you admitted you loved horror movies, cause they scared Jake half to death.
“You ever scream at the screen?” He asked, grinning up at you.
“Never,” you admitted, “do you?”
“A lot,” he mumbled, and you chuckled—that sound becoming Jake’s favourite each passing second.
Jake’s eyes stayed on your face the whole time, soft and full of something deep. He felt surreal having you like this—so close, so willing, so in love with the version of you that no one else really got to see. The way your fingers moved through his hair, the gentle way you looked down at him, it made his chest ache in the best way. It made no sense how you looked so fucking pretty even from that angle, so perfect.
At one point he reached up, hand gentle on the back of your neck, and pulled you down for a soft kiss. It was slow, sweet, full of everything you both weren’t saying yet. You got goosebumps all over, your body reacting so perfectly to him, to the quiet love blooming between you.
When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’m really glad you said yes.”
You kissed him again, softer this time, heart so full it almost hurt.
You could feel how down bad he was—the way his hand rested on your thigh like he needed the contact, the quiet reverence in his gaze every time he looked up at you, the small, content sighs he let out whenever your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. He didn’t say any of it out loud, he didn’t need to, really. It was all there in the way he looked at you.
After a while he sat up slowly, hair messy from your fingers, eyes soft and dark. Without a word he reached for you, hands gentle on your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him easily, knees on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your chin with careful fingers, tilting your face down to his.
The kiss was soft at first, full of everything that had been building between you all afternoon. His lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, thumb brushing your jaw in the gentlest way.
When he pulled back he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight against his chest. You held him just as tightly, arms looped around his neck, face buried in the crook of his shoulder. You didn’t want this to end, not the warmth of him, not the steady beat of his heart against yours, not the way he made the rest of the world feel so far away.
Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, slow and lingering. You whispered his name, soft and breathless, “Jake—”
He smiled against your skin, the curve of his lips warm and pleased. Then he licked over the same spot, and your breath hitched.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks warm, “you’re terrible,” you complained, but there was no real heat in it.
Jake’s eyes sparkled with that smug little glint. Before you could say anything else he pulled you back down into a deeper kiss, filled with everything he felt—the want, the softness, the quiet desperation of someone who was completely, utterly, helplessly in love with you. His hand slid into your hair, the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close as the kiss turned slow and emotional, tongues brushing, breaths mingling, hearts beating in the same unsteady rhythm.
You melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, losing yourself in the way he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Foggy façade.
It was the third time Jake had rerouted the car to go away from the campus, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, a pout on his plump lips as you pointed out that he was, in fact, not willing to take you home.
“I just don’t want the day to end, is that so bad?” He spoke so freely and you wondered how he got the confidence to say things like that without sounding ridiculous, his hand stayed laced with yours on the console.
“You’re literally driving in circles,” you said, squeezing his fingers, “we’ve passed that same coffee shop twice now.”
Jake glanced over at you, eyes bright even in the fading light, “worth it. Every single time I look at you I forget where I’m supposed to be going.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away completely, “smooth talker. Take me home, Sim, I have an assignment due tomorrow.”
He made a dramatic whining sound, slowing the car at a red light, “one more hour. Please? I’ll be good. I’ll even let you pick the music.”
You laughed, leaning your head back against the seat, even though you couldn’t deny it yourself, you didn’t wish to go back, “you’re impossible.”
The light turned green and instead of turning toward campus he took another random right, the river still sparkling in the distance behind you. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Jake.”
“What?” He asked innocently, but the grin tugging at his mouth was anything but, “I’m just—taking the scenic route.”
You were still bickering lightly when he suddenly pulled off the main road into a quiet, tree-lined side street and parked under the shade of an old oak. The engine cut off. For a second the only sound was the soft tick of the cooling car and your own heartbeat.
“Jake,” you said again, softer this time.
He turned to you fully, eyes dark and a little desperate, “I can’t stand not kissing you for one more second.”
Before you could even tease him about it, he was leaning across the console, one hand sliding into your hair as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was messy and urgent, like he’d been holding back the whole drive. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers curling into his shirt, the taste of the picnic strawberries still lingering on his tongue.
“Backseat,” he mumbled against your lips, already fumbling with both your seatbelts, “c’mon, baby.”
You laughed breathlessly into the kiss, “Jay’s gonna actually murder you if he finds out what we’re doing in his car.”
“Let him,” Jake grinned, nipping at your bottom lip before climbing over the console in that surprisingly smooth way he had. He tugged you with him and you tumbled into the backseat together, legs tangling, laughter bubbling up between more kisses, “totally worth getting murdered for.”
You ended up straddling his lap, your jeans rubbing against the front of his as his hands gripped your waist tight. The humping started almost immediately—slow rolls of your hips that had you both groaning at the friction. Denim on denim felt stupidly good, the thick seam of your jeans pressing right against your core every time you rocked forward.
“Fuck,” Jake breathed, head falling back against the seat as you ground down harder, “even through the jeans you feel incredible.”
You leaned down, kissing him again while you kept moving, slow and teasing, “you’re so impatient, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, smiling when he chased your lips.
“Can you blame me?” He bucked up to meet you, hands sliding under your top to grip your bare waist, “been hard since the river. Watching you play with my hair, looking so fucking pretty, I couldn’t help it.”
The laughter died down into heavier breaths and soft moans, and you fucking loved how vocal Jake was. You kept rolling your hips in lazy circles, feeling how hard and thick he was beneath you. Jake’s hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, and every little sound he made went straight to your core.
Eventually you slid lower, kissing down his neck, then his chest, until you were kneeling between his legs in the cramped backseat. Your hands worked open his belt and jeans, and when you pulled him out, his cock was so big and thick it made your mouth water.
Jake let out a shaky breath, fingers gently threading into your hair, “baby, you really don’t have to—”
“I want to,” you said, looking up at him. You nuzzled your cheek against the heavy length first, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it, feeling it twitch against your skin.
“Fuck,” he groaned, low and wrecked. “Look at you—nuzzling my cock like that. So pretty.”
You licked a slow stripe from base to tip, then took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. Jake’s groan was loud, head tipping back against the seat.
“Shit—yeah, just like that,” he panted, fingers tightening in your hair but never pushing, “you look so fucking good with your lips around me.”
You took him deeper, tongue swirling every time you pulled back. He was so thick it stretched your mouth perfectly, and you loved the way he filled you.
“Jaeyun,” you moaned around him, the name slipping out soft and needy.
Jake’s whole body jerked hard, “fuck—say it again,” he groaned, voice breaking, “god, I love when you call me that. Say it again, baby, please.”
“Jaeyun,” you whispered, taking him even deeper, eyes watering a little as you looked up at him through your lashes.
He let out a wrecked sound, hips twitching up just slightly before he caught himself. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pulling, just holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the way his thighs tensed every time you hollowed your cheeks.
But then his hand slid down to your shoulder, gentle but urgent, “come here,” he breathed, voice rough, “I need you closer.”
You pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and he didn’t waste a secon—he tugged you up into his lap again, hands already working your jeans open. You shoved his jeans down further, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while he pushed two fingers into you without warning. The stretch made you gasp, forehead dropping to his shoulder.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered against your neck, curling his fingers just right, “all this for me?”
You nodded, breath hitching as you kept stroking him, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. The car was getting warmer, windows starting to fog, the cramped backseat making everything feel even more intense—elbows bumping seats, knees knocking, but neither of you cared. You rocked into his hand while he fucked you with his fingers, messy and uncoordinated and perfect.
Jake’s mouth found your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned, head tilting to give him more space, and he took it, kissing, licking, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Another mark right below your ear, then one on your collarbone. He was claiming you in the quietest way possible, and it made your stomach flip.
His fingers sped up, thumb pressing against your clit, and you squeezed him tighter in response, stroking faster.
“You feel so good,” he panted, voice low and broken against your skin, “I—I can’t even think straight when you’re like this. I think I lo—”
You cut him off with a kiss, hard and desperate, swallowing whatever he was about to say. Your heart was hammering too loud, the guilt and the want twisting together until it hurt. You weren’t ready, not yet. Not when everything still felt like it was built on something you couldn’t admit out loud.
Jake groaned into your mouth, kissing you back like he understood anyway, fingers still moving inside you, thumb circling faster. You kept stroking him, messy and slick, both of you breathing hard between kisses, bodies pressed so close you could feel his heartbeat against yours.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, eyes dark and glassy, “you’re everything,” he whispered instead, the words thick, “don’t stop, baby.”
You didn’t, kissing him again, slower this time, the act so devastatingly soft, your bodies couldn’t help but react by reaching the peak of unadulterated pleasure you both provided each other with, messy and desperate, but none of you cared in the moment, enjoying the bliss of it all.
Letting the mess of feelings stay buried under the heat of his mouth.
CHAPTER TWELVE: The forgotten bet
You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, and somehow hiding in the library was the best you could do to get away from everything you wanted to be close to. Choosing a seat which you normally didn’t opt for was even worse, and the notes in front of you seemed to be in an entirely different language when your mind was elsewhere.
But someone had this weird idea about the whereabouts of practically everyone in the campus, which is why Jaemin found you sulking in a corner, his smile as bright as ever as invited himself to sit next to you.
“Bet not going too well, I presume,” he started, breaking your train of thoughts.
That shit eating grin on his face infuriated more, and there was nothing more you wished to do than punch him at the given moment.
“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped, not even bothering to look up from the notes that might as well have been written in ancient Greek.
“Relax,” he said, leaning back like he had all day, “I come in peace. Just checking in on my favorite partner in crime.”
You finally glanced at him, jaw tight, “there’s no bet anymore. So, you can leave.”
Jaemin laughed under his breath, spinning one of your pens between his fingers, “sure looks like there is to me. I saw you two at the party, the way he dragged you into his room right in front of everyone. Then yesterday? Jay’s car parked on that quiet street for almost an hour, windows completely fogged up. Jake came back to the dorm looking like he’d just won the lottery. He’s been skipping practice, smiling at nothing, telling the guys he’s taking you on a date again very soon. He’s in deep, Y/N. Like, actually gone.”
Your stomach twisted. Of course he knew. Jaemin always knew everything that happened on campus.
He leaned in a little, voice dropping but still smug, “you’ve got him right where you want him. One more good date, a couple more nights like yesterday, and he’s gonna say it. The whole i’m in love with you speech. Then you reject him, take the Paris trip, and we both win. Easy.”
You stared at him, chest tight, “you’re actually serious right now.”
“Dead serious,” he said, grin still firmly in place. “This was your plan too, remember? Make him fall hard, then crush him. Don’t go soft on me just because he bought you three bouquets and looked at you with those puppy eyes. You’re winning. Don’t fuck it up now.”
He stood up slowly, tapping the table once with his knuckle, “think about it. He’s already forgetting the car even exists. Finish the job before it gets too messy.”
Jaemin walked off without another word, even though you did scream your answer, garnering the attention of students who weren’t pleased about it. But yes, he did leave you alone with the heavy knot in your chest and the notes you still couldn’t read.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Too good to be true
This wasn’t the plan.
Sitting in the bleachers, supporting Jake, clad in this jacket as if you were his girlfriend. To make things worse, Jake absolutely preened in showing you off, not one care about embarrassment, not when he was the one who had insisted you wear it before the game even started.
“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he’d said with that easy grin, tugging the collar straight and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead right there on the sidelines where half the team could see. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, but now, with his name printed across the back in bold white letters, you felt the weight of every curious glance from the crowd.
The game was loud to say the least, Jungwon and Karina agreed, but they also silently agreed that your happiness came first, and at the moment, you looked really happy. Jake was everywhere—stealing the ball with sharp precision, setting up plays that made the stands roar, running like the field belonged to him alone. Every few minutes his eyes would flick up to the bleachers, searching until they landed on you. The second they did, his whole face would change. That bright, boyish smile would break through the concentration, and he’d give you this tiny, secret nod like you two were the only ones who understood what it meant.
“I’m not doing it,” you whispered to yourself.
Jungwon only smiled, “we know—we’ve always known.”
You turned to look at him, “how?” Somehow the question itself made you seem small, especially the possibility of Jake finding out and losing trust in you—seemed way worse.
“You try to act all tough, but we know how soft you are,” Karina spoke softly.
“And with Jake? There was no way we didn’t see this coming, you really can’t fool us,” Jungwon added with a dimpled smile, making you chuckle despite the breakdown you were going to have.
You didn’t realize how heavy the bet felt till you got it off of your chest, eyes watery as you turned to look at Jake in his element yet again, watching how he moved with ease under the burden of the timer ticking. But Jake was really good at what he did, kicking the ball straight into the net as it curled around in the corner left just as the whistle blew in the background.
You didn’t even realize you were screaming until your own voice hit your ears. You shot up fully, hands in the air, cheering so loud your throat hurt. “Yes, Jake! Go!” The words just flew out of you, completely unfiltered. Jungwon and Karina were jumping beside you, all three of you yelling like idiots.
Jake didn’t celebrate with his teammates. He broke away from the pile and ran straight for the stands, jumping the barrier in one smooth motion, and before you could even catch your breath he was right there in front of you, chest heaving, that huge, bright grin on his face.
He grabbed your waist with both hands and spun you around once, fast. Your feet left the ground, the roar of the crowd blurring into one big cheer.
“Jake!” You squeaked, laughing but instantly embarrassed as people around you whistled and shouted, “put me down—everyone’s watching—”
He didn’t listen. He spun you one more time, slower this time, eyes locked on yours like the rest of the stadium had disappeared. “Let them watch,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I scored that goal thinking about you, I want them to know it.”
When he finally set you back on your feet he didn’t step back. He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you right there in front of everyone—deep, a little messy, his jersey was damp with sweat, his heart still hammering against yours, but the kiss felt steady.
Your face burned hot the second his lips touched yours. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you, phones probably out, people cheering and laughing, but Jake didn’t care at all. He kissed you like the crowd wasn’t even there, like this was the only thing that mattered.
When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, he was breathing hard, eyes shining, “I—I, uh,” he tried to find words, but with you looking at him so sweetly, he just melted, “you’re my good luck charm.”
And gosh, you smiled, pecking him softly, reciprocating the exact feelings he’d been harbouring towards you. His teammates were yelling his name from the field, and so he left with a promise to be back soon.
It’s normal for any sane person to get scared when things feel too good to be true, exactly how they felt for you and Jake, so the flicker of worry didn’t go unnoticed by Jake after the whole team came out. When they came out of the locker rooms, hair damp and smelling like fresh soap, Jake made a face at the idea of the big victory party happening across campus.
He glanced at you, really looked at you for a second, and caught the tiny flicker of worry that crossed your face, clearing his throat, “guys, I’m tired, let’s just go to the dorm and get some food and drinks ordered in.”
Jake looked down at you again, voice softer just for you, “that cool? We can keep it small.”
You managed a small smile and nodded, “yeah. That sounds perfect, actually.”
He smiled back, the kind of relieved, soft smile that made your chest feel a little lighter, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “good, let’s go home then.”
Jaemin, who had wandered over to join the group at some point, grinned wide. Jeno, standing a step behind him, shot Jaemin a sharp look and shook his head once, trying to warn him without saying anything out loud. Jaemin just smirked and ignored him completely.
Jake didn’t notice. He was too busy lacing his fingers with yours again, already tugging you gently toward the dorms. It was new to you, the feeling of being held in someone’s arms—in front of everyone, as if the concept of personal space was foreign to Jake, but did you actually want him to let go of you? Absolutely not, even if you won’t admit it out loud.
Jake hadn’t let go of you once. He kept you tucked right against his side on the couch, one arm looped around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy little patterns on your arm like he couldn’t stop touching you. Every few minutes he’d lean in and press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head or the corner of your mouth, completely unbothered by the others being right there.
Was it really that easy to fall in so deep for someone within a month? Take yourself for example, wrapped up in Jake’s embrace, it certainly did seem true to some extent.
“You okay? You’ve been quiet since we got back, was I too much?” He asked, thumb brushing the side of your neck, a worried pout on his face.
You shook your head just a bit, “I’m just happy, you did so well out there, Jakey.”
He sighed with happiness, all worries gone in a second, “couldn’t have done it without you.”
Sunghoon groaned loudly, “dude, you’re so gone it’s painful to watch.”
Jake laughed, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, “leave me alone, man. I earned this.”
You were about to tease him back when the door swung open.
Jaemin strolled in with Jeno beside him, grabbing a slice of pizza from the nearest box and dropping onto the arm of the couch across from you, taking a big bite. His eyes flicked over the scene—Jake’s arm still wrapped around you, the way Jake was still leaning into you like he couldn’t get close enough. Jaemin’s grin sharpened.
“Damn, look at you two,” he said casually, chewing, “still going strong, huh? So Jake, did you finally drop the L-word on her yet? Cause you have two days left till the bet ends.”
You stilled, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room. Jeno groaned at the back cause he did try to stop Jaem, but to no avail. But it was almost as if he couldn’t pick up context cues, and so he continued, “you told her about it right? Since you’re smitten now, that’s why you’re together, right?”
“Jaemin,” Jake warned him, his hold tightening on you, “shut the fuck up.”
Jungwon and Karina were ready to take you back, almost jumping to their feet, but that’s not where Jaem stopped. Jungwon was already shifting closer on the couch until his knee pressed against yours, one hand resting lightly on your arm like he was ready to pull you out of there the second you needed it.
“What? You didn’t tell her?” He smirked, now staring right at you, “well, too fucking bad cause she already fucking knows you’re playing her for a car,” he smirked, leaning back against the couch, finally letting the drama unfold.
Your chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. You felt the heat rush to your face, then drain away just as fast, leaving you cold. Jay was staring at the floor like it had answers. Heeseung’s hand froze around his beer. Sunghoon looked like he wanted to sink into the cushions. Karina’s eyes were wide, looking at you knowing exactly how you felt right now—especially after the nights you cried with her. Jungwon’s fingers tightened on your arm because of the same.
Of course his friends had known the whole time.
You pulled away from Jake’s arm slowly, like your body was moving through water. The walls you’d been trying so hard to keep down slammed back up, higher than before. You felt small, exposed, stupid even. Like every soft kiss, every my girl, every time he looked at you like you mattered had been watched and laughed at behind your back.
You stood up, “I knew it the whole time,” you confessed, observing just how panicked he seemed at the moment, “Jaemin told me everything at the very beginning—how you just bet on my feelings for his car,” you tried to stop yourself from getting emotional, letting a shaky breath out as Jake’s shaking hand held on to yours, “so he asked me to do the same, to show you how it hurts to play with someone’s emotions.”
His face went pale, and even though he opened his mouth, no words came out, just throbbing pain in his heart, and eyes wide as if he’d gotten punched in the gut.
Maybe him accepting it would’ve made it better, but for Jake, there wasn’t an option between fight or flight, only freezing on the spot. Everyone stayed silent, watching it unfold and Jay tried to shake Jake’s shoulders, but all he could see was your trust crumpling, and his heart breaking.
“You—you don’t actually like me?” He asked, voice breaking.
“I do—I fucking do,” your voice cracked as well, “going through with the bet was not my intention, but what about you, Jake?”
Jake’s hand, still reaching for yours, started to tremble. His mouth opened again, but nothing came out. The guilt on his face was so raw it made your stomach turn. He looked hurt—really hurt, and you weren’t sure how to feel anymore, the hypocrisy of it all sinking in deeper, making everything worse. You’d planned to use him too, you were no better. The walls around you shot up even higher at the absence of words, of reassurance.
So you asked again, “Jake, was any of it real?”
Jake finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, broken, “you—you knew the whole time?”
You nodded, a tear cascaded down the curve of your cheek freely, “yeah. I knew.”
He let out a shaky breath, like the words physically hurt him, “and you still—you let me fall for you anyway? You let me get this deep even though you knew I started it for a stupid bet? Why didn’t you tell me?”
The rise in his voice almost made you laugh, “so now you’re hurt cause I knew? After you started the whole thing for a car? That’s rich, Jake.”
Jungwon stood up right beside you, shoulder brushing yours, protective, “Y/N, you don’t have to explain anything else to him, not right now.”
“No, no—Jake just fucking tell me, is it real?” You waited for an answer, to get absolute silence in return, “Jake?”
You tried for the last time, just to find tears streaming down his flushed face, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was too in his head, cursing himself, cursing Jaeming for letting it happen, but you? How could he ever hate you?
Wiping your tears roughly, you let Karina embrace you, who kept glaring at all the boys. It wasn’t awkward for them, they felt guilty too, but knew better than to speak up in between them.
You stepped back, “fine then—I’m done, we’re done. Don’t follow me, don’t text me. Just stay the hell away from me.”
You turned toward the door. Jake shot up after you, voice cracking, “Y/N, wait—please, just let me explain—”
“Don’t,” you snapped, not turning around.
Karina was already grabbing your jacket, “c’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Jungwon stayed right at your side until you reached the door, then spun around, glaring at Jay, “you should’ve stopped him, you knew what he was doing from the start. You let him play with her feelings like it was nothing. What the fuck, Jay?”
Jay looked wrecked, never expecting Jungwon to get angry, “I tried, man. I told him it was fucked up—”
“You all knew!” Jungwon’s voice rose, “every single one of you sat there and watched her fall and didn’t say a word. That’s fucked up—you couldn’t reassure her after she told you everything, huh, Jake?”
You didn’t wait to hear more, stepping into the hallway, Karina right behind you, her hand gentle on your back,“I’ve got you,” she whispered, “just breathe, okay?”
Behind the closed door, it only got worse, Jungwon’s voice only got louder as Jay tried to explain himself.
As the boys gathered to calm down Jungwon, they completely missed the way Jake got up and headed towards Jaemin. Only the sound of a loud crash got their attention—Jake’s fist connecting with Jaemin’s jaw.
“You fucking asshole,” Jake snarled, his voice raw and broken. Another punch landed, his knuckles splitting open against Jaemin’s cheekbone. Blood smeared across his hand and dripped onto the floor. Heeseung and Sunghoon tried to pull him back, but Jake was swinging again, tears streaming down his face as he cried freely, angry and devastated all at once.
“Fucking get off me!” He shouted, his voice cracking between sobs, "this is your fault—all of it! You ruined everything!”
Furniture scraped against the floor. Someone yelled for them to stop, but it fell deaf to Jake’s ears. He kept swinging, his knuckles bleeding worse with every punch, tears falling fast down his cheeks, until Heeseung and Sunghoon finally managed to drag him back, both of them breathing hard.
Jaemin didn’t care much, he looked rather amused at the situation as Jeno tried to pull him up in furious whispers of urging him to stop being messy.
Jake stood there in the middle of the mess, shoulders shaking, blood on his hands and tears still streaming from his bloodshot eyes. He looked completely destroyed.
And you? You didn’t look back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Salvation
So maybe you did jinx yourself for thinking everything was perfect. However, it made no sense to you, or to anyone for that matter. You weren’t an expert about feelings by any means, yet it was clear to anyone with working eyes that whatever you and Jake had was far from fake.
Why couldn’t he say it?
You knew the stakes, you came clean to him, and god knows you couldn’t be mad at him for telling you that it, in fact, started off because of a bit. But the silence hurt.
“I love him,” you whispered, and Karina hugged you tighter at how raw the confession sounded.
“I know,” she mumbled, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay.”
You stayed quiet for a while, letting her hold you. The numbness had settled deep, leaving you strangely serene even as your heart ached. There were no more tears left. Just this heavy, enthralling ache that refused to let go.
Karina eventually pulled back and brushed a strand of hair from your face, “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay? I’ll be right back, yeah?”
You nodded mutely and watched her head to the small kitchenette. The soft clink of the kettle and mugs filled the room as you sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.
Karina was busy with the kettle as a knock came at the door, making her pause her ministrations. She walked over and opened the door just a crack, hoping it’d be Jungwon.
It was Jake.
He looked utterly destroyed. His eyes were bloodshot and had started to swell from crying, cheeks still damp with fresh tears. His knuckles were split open and bleeding, dark red smeared across his hand and the sleeve of his hoodie. He was breathing hard, like he’d run the entire way here without stopping.
Karina’s eyes widened in horror, “Jake—what the hell happened to your hands?”
He didn’t even look at her. His gaze was fixed past her shoulder, desperately searching for you, “please,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. Without waiting, he slowly lowered himself to his knees right there in the hallway, bloody hands clasped in front of him, “please, Karina, just let me talk to her. I need her to know it was real, I’m begging you.”
Karina stood frozen for a long moment, clearly torn. She glanced back at you, then down at Jake kneeling on the floor, tears still slipping down his face, knuckles dripping blood onto the tiles.
She let out a heavy, reluctant sigh.
“I—come in,” she said quietly, stepping aside, “but if you make this any worse, I swear to God, Jake—”
Jake didn’t even stand up right away. He stayed on his knees for another heartbeat, bloody hands still clasped like he was praying, before he pushed himself up on shaky legs. God, his eyes—they were red-rimmed and glassy, the golden-boy sparkle completely shattered. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure.
Karina shot you one last warning glance before she slipped into the kitchenette, muttering something about giving you two five minutes and that she’d be right there with a knife if needed. The door to your room clicked shut behind her, leaving nothing but the sound of Jake’s ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood onto your floor.
You stayed rooted on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tight around your middle like you could physically hold yourself together. Your heart was hammering so hard it hurt. A part of you wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out. The other part—the stupid, traitorous part that had fallen anyway—ached at the sight of him like this.
You swallowed hard, voice coming out sharper than you meant, “what the hell are you doing here, Jake? What now?”
Jake ran a shaky hand through his hair, smearing a thin streak of blood across his forehead, “I don’t know,” he groaned, “I really fucking don’t. You said all that shit after the game and I just—I just froze, okay? I punched Jaemin so hard I think I broke something, and it still didn’t make me feel better. Nothing did.”
You looked away, “so you came here?”
“Yeah, I came here,” his voice was rough, frustrated. He took another step closer, boots scuffing the floor, “what else was I supposed to do? You just walked off, were my actions not enough for you, huh? I sat in my room staring at the wall like an idiot for an hour.”
You let out a sharp laugh, finally looking at him again, “oh, poor you. Must’ve been real hard.”
“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t do that. You told me you knew everything and you fell anyway. And then you just—left. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”
You stood up fast, arms dropping to your sides, “what did you expect? A hug? You started this whole thing. You came after me for a bet. I only played along to fuck you over and now look at us. I’m the dumbass who actually caught feelings, while you couldn’t even admit it in front of your friends.”
Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscle jump, “I broke the bet off before the date, Y/N. Before I even took you out. That morning I told Jaemin I was done with the whole thing. He was just stirring shit tonight to fuck with both of us.”
You stared at him, the words hitting like a slap, “you—you what?”
“Yeah,” he whispered, “I ended it days ago. Because it wasn’t a game anymore, not for me. But you still think I was using you the whole time, don’t you?”
Your hands started shaking, “then why the fuck didn’t you tell me? You let me keep thinking it was all fake while I was falling for you like an idiot? While I was lying to my friends and to myself?”
“Because I was terrified!” His voice cracked, louder now, “I knew the second I said it out loud you’d look at me like this—like I’m the enemy. I didn’t want to lose you and I still fucking don’t. I’m in love with you, okay? Not for the bet or the stupid car.”
You shoved at his chest, hard, but your fingers stayed twisted in his hoodie at the confession. He loves you, and he was never once hesitant to show it till now, “you’re such a fucking coward, Jake.”
“I know,” he breathed, eyes glassy as he pressed closer, forehead almost touching yours, “I’m the biggest coward on campus. But I’m yours if you still want me.”
You yanked him down by the hoodie and pulled him into a deep kiss as Jake groaned into your mouth, hands sliding under your shirt, bloody knuckles rough against your skin, and you could taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips.
“I love you,” he gasped right against your lips, the words spilling out shaky between kisses, “fuck, I love you—”
You whined into his mouth at how freely he said it now. Jake had always been truthful to his feelings, while you’d been insecure, which is why you couldn’t do much but kiss him back, hoping that it’ll show how you reciprocate the feelings.
The sharp tang of blood hit your tongue when his injured knuckle brushed your jaw. You pulled back, breathing hard, eyes dropping to his right hand. Only that one knuckle was split open, still seeping a thin line of red.
“Jake,” you muttered, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently and turning it over, “you’re still bleeding.”
He tried to pull you back in, eyes dark and hazy, “don’t care—”
“I do.” You slid off his lap before he could argue, legs a little unsteady as you crossed to the shelf by your desk. Your hands shook slightly when you grabbed the antiseptic wipes, a small tube of ointment, and a strip of gauze. When you turned back he was still sitting on the edge of the bed exactly where you’d left him, watching you with this raw, open look that made your stomach twist in the deepest way—cause gosh, he looked beautiful.
You knelt between his thighs again and took his injured hand. The wipe stung when you pressed it to the cut. Jake hissed softly through his teeth but didn’t pull away. He just stared at your face like the sight of you taking care of him was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.
“You’re really doing this right now,” he said quietly.
“Someone has to,” you whispered, dabbing the blood away carefully, then smoothing ointment over the split skin. Every small touch felt heavier than it should—the faint tremble in his fingers, the way your own heartbeat was slamming so hard against your ribs it felt like it was echoing in your throat. You wrapped the gauze around his knuckle slowly, and the quiet intimacy of it settled somewhere deep in your chest, warm and aching and terrifying all at once.
When you finished he caught your face with both hands and pulled you up into another kiss as if pouring every ounce of emotions he’d ever felt towards you, his lips slotting perfectly against yours, a bit messy with how reverent he was. He even wish to breathe anymore, just accepting the warmth of your mouth as a way to live.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed against your mouth again, the words vibrating through you, “god, I love you so much it feels like it’s in my bones. Like every time I touch you I remember how close I came to losing this.”
You climbed back into his lap, straddling him, and kissed him harder, hips rolling once against the obvious hardness straining in his sweatpants. The friction made you both moan softly. His bandaged hand slid up your back under your shirt, palm warm against your spine, while the other cupped the back of your neck like he was scared you’d pull away.
He broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. His eyes were glassy, voice cracking when he spoke.
“Do you actually want me?” He whispered, lips brushing yours with every word, “not because we’re both fucked up right now. Just—tell me, if not i’ll just stop. Say it against my mouth, pleasw, I need to hear it.”
Your heart felt too big for your chest, a heavy, aching throb that matched the pulse between your legs. You leaned in until your lips touched his with every syllable.
“I want you,” you breathed right against him, “I want you so fucking bad, Jake. Just you—all of you.”
The second the words left your mouth you grabbed his bandaged right hand and pressed his palm flat to the center of your chest, right over your racing heart. His fingers spread wide, the gauze rough and warm against your skin, and Jake let out this low, broken groan that vibrated straight through you.
“Fuck—baby,” he rasped, eyes fluttering like he was barely holding it together, “for me?”
You’d seen how Jake got during intimate moments, but the way he was acting right now—breathing hard against your skin, you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle without confessing all your feelings for the pretty boy in front of you. The fact that he came running so soon, that he wished to clear things up, it was enough. Staying mad at him wasn’t ever a choice when every single cell within you yearned for him.
“For you,” you whispered gently, eyes never leaving his face.
He looked stunning to say the least, perhaps the prettiest crier you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. His face was flushed, this beautiful shade of red gracing it, and you couldn’t help but trace your thumb over his swollen lip, “you’re so pretty,” you whispered without thinking twice.
In one smooth motion he flipped you both, laying you down on the bed and settling between your thighs, his body pressing you into the mattress. The sudden weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his pendant swung forward and rested cool against your clavicle—it made you shiver. You looked down and saw it, your initials, small and delicate on the silver chain around his neck, nestled right there against your skin.
A soft, involuntary moan slipped out of you.
Jake’s breath hitched hard against your neck, “you see it, baby?” He whispered, his lips—so fucking soft and plush, brushed your throat as he spoke, “got it the next day after our date, been wearing it since.”
“You’re crazy,” you managed to say, but your eyes were shining just as bright as his own, his usual smile stretching, making your heart race faster than usual.
The proximity was maddening. His chest pressed flush to yours, heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his ribs. The heat of his body soaked into every inch of you, his breath hot and ragged on your neck. He took his time to take your scent in, shamelessly so, doing exactly what he couldn’t when he first talked to you, and swore he was rather drunk on it.
He buried his face deeper into the curve of your neck and inhaled again, slow and shaky, like he was trying to memorize you, “fuck—wanted to do this when I first met you,” he mumbled, lips dragging along your pulse point, open-mouthed and wet.
You shivered hard, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging lightly, “then stop holding back now, Jake. Touch me.”
He groaned, “yeah? You want that?” His bandaged hand slipped under your shirt, palm hot and trembling as it cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it tightened, “like this? Tell me if it’s good, baby. I need to hear you.”
“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching into his touch, “don’t be gentle. I want to feel how bad you want me.”
“Fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, “I’m gonna show you how sorry I am. Gonna make you feel it with every fucking inch of me until you know I’m yours.” He pushed your shirt higher, mouth following right behind, kissing and sucking down your chest like he was starving, “god, look at you—so fucking pretty under me. Can I take this off? I need to see all of you, baby. Please?”
You nodded fast, lifting your arms. He peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside, then just stared, chest rising fast, “fuck—these tits. Been thinking about them every night.” His mouth latched onto one nipple, plush lips sucking slow and deep while his hand palmed the other one, thumb teasing the peak until you were squirming.
“Jaeyun—shit, that feels so good,” you moaned, back arching.
“Yeah? You like my mouth here?” he asked, switching sides, tongue swirling lazy circles. “Tell me, baby. I need to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“So good,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair, “don’t stop.”
“Won’t stop,” he sighed in pleasure, sucking harder as his teeth grazed just enough to make you gasp, the pendant dragging cool over your skin with every move of his head.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You pushed at his shoulders and flipped you both again, straddling his hips, grinding down slow and filthy against the hard line of his cock through his pants.
Jake’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan tearing out of him, “Jesus Christ—yeah, keep going, pretty.”
You leaned down, hair falling around both of you, and kissed him deep, tongue sliding against his, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, as if no amount of kissing could satiate his hunger.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, lips still brushing and his eyes were blown wide, chest heaving under you. Holding his gaze, you gathered spit in your mouth, and let it drip slowly right onto his waiting tongue.
Jake’s whole body jerked hard beneath you. A wrecked, filthy moan tore out of his throat as the warm spit landed on his tongue. He didn’t even hesitate before swallowing it down with a shaky groan, then leaned right up and licked into your mouth like he was chasing the taste of you, tongue sliding against yours again, ever so messy and eager.
The absolute joy of being here, so free and filthy with Jake despite everything, had you getting freakier by second knowing damn well how Jake would be thrilled, and he did. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if you didn’t accept his apology, or if you’d admit that it was a game to you. But seeing neither was the case, he had to take the next step—to show exactly how much he wanted you.
“So dirty for me, huh?” He smirked, sucking on your tongue, “fucking perfect, you’re mine, yeah? Made for me.”
“Getting possessive already?” You chuckled deeply, licking up his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, confidence boosting by second at the sight of him shivering with your ministrations, “you like it when I spit in that pretty mouth of yours, Jake?
He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, gentle but playful, giving it a light pull before letting it go with a soft pop, “like it?” He murmured, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief even now, “darling, I fucking love it. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to be this comfortable with me—this filthy.”
You grinned, rolling your hips down against the hard line of his cock, “then stop talking and do something about it.”
Jake clicked his tongue, rolling over so you were under him again, pinning you to the mattress with his weight, eyebrow cocked up, “bossy tonight, aren’t you?” He teased, lips brushing yours as he spoke.
You traced your finger up his spine, grabbing the hair on his nape with a tug that had him groaning, “why wouldn’t I be? You’re mine now, aren’t you?” You challenged.
“Claiming me now, hm? Not mad anymore?” He caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head with his bandaged hand while his other slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider under him.
The weight of him was heavenly, you could feel the faint ridges of his abs through his hoodie, the way his heart was slamming against your ribs like it was trying to reach you. His pendant swung forward, cool metal kissing your skin right between your breasts, and the sight of your own initials resting there made you whine yet again.
“Want me to be mad?” You pecked his neck, “want me to go ask someone else to please me—”
Jake’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical, “you fucking dare say that again,” he almost groaned, his grip on your thigh tightening, fingers digging in like he needed to remind himself you were really here, “don’t even joke about that shit, the thought of someone else even looking at you the way I do makes me want to lose my fucking mind.”
You blinked up at him, surprised by how quickly the jealousy hit, “Jake—”
“No,” He he you off, voice rough as he shoved your shorts and panties down your legs in one impatient yank, the fabric tearing slightly at the seam. He didn’t care. He tossed them off the bed and settled between your thighs like he belonged there, his big nose brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he inhaled deep, shameless.
“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes locked on how wet you were, “you’re actually dripping. All this for me, just for me, hm?”
You tried to answer, but the words died in your throat when he dragged two fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness before pushing them inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made your back arch off the bed with a sharp gasp.
“Jake—”
“Yeah?” He curled his fingers deep right away, thumb brushing your clit in slow circles. His nose rubbed against your inner thigh as he leaned in closer, breath hot against your pussy, “keep talking. I wanna hear what you wanna say while my fingers are buried in you like this.”
You clenched around him, hips rolling up to chase the feeling, absolutely enamoured with how possessive he was—maybe that’s what you wanted, him claiming you so freely, “you’re so fucking jealous,” you managed, half-laugh, half-moan, “god—I fucking love you.”
It didn’t take much for you to say it, but to Jake, it was everything.
His fingers froze deep inside you for a split second. Then he yanked them out so fast you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but before you could even protest he was surging up your body, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he stared down at you like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.
“Say it again,” he demanded, chest heaving and eyes wild.
“I love you, Jaeyun,” you whispered, looking straight in his eyes.
“Fuck—I love you too,” he managed to say desperately, he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you like he was trying to crawl inside your skin, “i needed to hear that.”
He pressed open mouthed kisses all over your torso, only stopping to take his hoodie off in a go, revealing the faint lines of his abs and the light scatter of freckles across his shoulders. The sight of him all flushed, made heat flood between your legs even more.
He slid back down your body fast, shoving your thighs apart wider. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up even more, his big nose brushed your inner thigh as he inhaled deep and shameless. “Fuck, you smell so good when you’re this turned on,” he groaned, then dragged his tongue in one long, filthy stripe up your pussy, moaning loud when he tasted you, “mine, hm.”
His nose rubbed firm and perfect against your clit as he licked, the pressure making your hips jerk.
“Jake—godd,” you gasped, fingers twisting in his hair.
He looked up at you, lips shiny, eyes dark, “yeah? You like my mouth on you?” He sucked your clit into his mouth, fingers pushing back inside you, curling just right, “tell me, baby, I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel while I eat this pretty pussy.”
“So good,” you moaned, thighs shaking around his head, “your nose—right there, it feels so fucking good rubbing my clit like that.”
He caressed the soft flesh of your inner thighs with his veiny hand, thumb stroking back and forth.
Placing open mouthed kisses on it made it worse (better), and you twitched hard.
Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours, lips curving into a filthy little smirk, “oh? Sensitive here?” He dragged his teeth along the inside of your thigh, then sucked hard, leaving a dark mark right where his thumb had been stroking, “fuck, I love that. Gonna mark every spot that makes you shake for me, yeah? My good fucking girl.”
He didn’t give you time to recover. He buried his face between your legs again, eyes never leaving your face, and just how perfect you looked shaking for him, memorizing every bit of it.
He sucked harder, fingers pumping faster, nose pressing firm and relentless. “Mhm, cum for me, baby. Let me taste how much you want me right now.”
You came hard, thighs clamping around his head as you cried out his name, pulsing around his fingers while he kept licking and sucking you through it, moaning like your orgasm was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
He didn’t stop until you were whimpering and pushing weakly at his shoulders, over-sensitive and trembling.
Only then did he crawl back up your body, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was straining hard against his pants, the front completely soaked with pre-cum.
You reached down and palmed him through the fabric. “Take these off,” you said, voice hoarse, “I want to see you. All of you.”
Jake sat back on his heels, eyes locked on yours the whole time as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, keeping it on the side. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark, and leaking at the tip. He wrapped his veiny hand around it and gave himself one slow stroke, watching your reaction.
“Better?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips even as his chest still heaved, “this what you wanted?”
You bit your lip, heat flooding through you at the sight of him so flushed and bare, freckles standing out across his nose and shoulders, faint abs flexing with every breath, cock heavy in his hand.
“Better,” you breathed, sitting up just a little, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his thick length.
He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan when you stroked him slowly from base to tip, thumb swiping over the leaking head, “love your hand, so fucking pretty,” he mumbled, hips twitching forward into your fist, “been hard for you for so long it hurts. C’mon, get on your back, baby, I need to be inside you.”
You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Jake settled between them, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness, being thick enough that the first push made your breath catch.
“Easy,” he murmured, voice strained as he pressed in slowly, making you feel every inch he gave you, “you’re so tight—fuck, just breathe for me. I’ve got you.”
It took time. He worked himself in with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust to the stretch, his jaw clenched tight, sweat already beading on his flushed chest. When he finally bottomed out, buried to the hilt, the fullness made your eyes flutter shut and a broken moan slip out of you.
“Shit, Jaeyun you’re so deep,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.
He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard, “you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, “like you were made for me. Tell me when you’re ready.”
You rolled your hips experimentally and moaned, “yeah, yeah—please.”
He started slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, building the pace slowly with steadier strokes that made your back arch and your moans louder. Every thrust pushed the air out of your lungs, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.
“God, look at you taking me,” he panted, eyes locked on where you were stretched around him, “so pretty and full of my cock.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “harder, Jake. I can take it.”
He groaned and gave you exactly what you asked for, hips snapping faster, the pendant with your initials swinging between your breasts with every thrust. His veiny hand slid down to rub your clit, drawing eights on them.
You were moaning his name, right on the edge, when you suddenly pushed at his chest, “wait—I want to ride you.”
Jake didn’t hesitate, in fact, he was already drooling at the image of your pretty tits jiggling right in front of him. He flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. You straddled his lap and sank down onto his cock in one go, both of you moaning loudly at the new angle.
“Fuck—ride me, baby,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as you started moving. His thumbs brushed your nipples, pinching and rolling them while you bounced on his thick length, “so fucking pretty riding my cock like you own it.”
You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, and started sucking dark hickeys into the side of his neck, right below his jaw, “I do own it, baby.”
Jake’s head fell back, a low moan escaping him as you marked him up.
“You do, just you” he panted, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you against him while the other kept playing with your nipple, “want everyone to see I’m yours.”
He reached blindly to the side, grabbing his discarded pants. From the pocket he pulled out a delicate silver pendant—his initials engraved on it. He had planned on asking you out properly before Jaemin fucked it up, but he didn’t plan on waiting anymore, caressing your neck as he clasped it around you, letting it sit beautifully on your clavicle.
“Wear this for me,” he said, voice rough as he watched it bounce lightly with every roll of your hips. The cool metal rested against your overheated skin, a constant little shock that made you shiver, “now say it. Say you’re mine while you’re riding my cock.”
You sat up straighter, rolling your hips deep, warmth blooming inside you at how beautiful the small accessory was, “I’m yours, Jake,” you moaned, looking down at him, “all yours.”
His eyes rolled back for a second, hands tightening on your hips as he helped you ride him harder. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, thumb still playing with your nipple, “keep saying it. I wanna hear it every time you sink down on me, baby.”
You pressed your face into his neck again, sucking another mark there as you rode him faster, both of you lost in each other, sweaty and desperate and finally, completely real.
Jake’s grip on your hips turned bruising, fingers digging in as he thrust up to meet every roll of your body.
“Fuck—baby, I’m so close,” he panted, voice ragged, eyes half-lidded and wild, “I should pull out, shit, I didn’t even ask—”
You shook your head fast, nails digging into his shoulders as you kept riding him, “It’s a safe day,” you gasped, lips brushing his, “I want you inside. Don’t pull out, please.”
Jake’s breath hitched hard, like the words alone almost broke him, “I can’t ever deny you anything, my love,” he groaned, “not when you ask me like that.”
He slammed up into you twice, burying himself deep as he came with a wrecked moan of your name, loud enough to reverberate, hips jerking as he spilled hot and thick inside you. The feeling of him pulsing, filling you, pushed you over right after—you clenched around him hard, thighs shaking, a broken cry of his name leaving your lips.
For a long moment you both just stayed there, trembling. Jake didn’t pull out, wrapping both arms around you and flipping you gently onto your back so he could hover over you, still buried deep, bodies pressed together with no space left. His chest heaved against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking, heartbeat slamming so hard you could feel it through your ribs.
He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at you, eyes glassy and a little wide like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Then he started kissing every mark he’d left on you tonight—the dark bruise on your inner thigh, the ones on your neck, the one just above your breast. Each kiss was slow, open-mouthed, his nose caressing your skin, warm breath fanning over the fresh hickeys like he was memorizing them with his mouth.
You carded your fingers through his damp hair, letting him take his time.
“I was so ready to beg on my knees tonight if that’s what it took,” he finally whispered against your collarbone, “don’t ever make me do that again.”
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, still a little dazed, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees, actually.”
Jake lifted his head, eyes meeting yours, he leaned in and pecked your lips once, letting it linger before he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he needed the contact more than air.
“Brat,” he murmured, the word warm and fond against your mouth, but the way he said it was so full of quiet, desperate attachment it made your chest tighten. He stayed like that, still inside you, arms wrapped around you, one hand gently stroking up and down your back while the other traced lazy circles over the pendant now warm against your skin.
“I love you,” he finally said, cupping your cheek.
“I love you,” you smiled, letting him be as clingy as he wanted to be.
“Wanna make a bet?” Jake asked, eyes gleaming as you raised your brow.
You laughed under your breath, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “Depends. What are we betting on this time?”
He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “that I’ll spend the rest of my life proving this was the best bad idea we ever had.”
You smiled against his lips, pretending to think which only made him whine further. But maybe, this one was worth spending time over.
“Bet.”
MEANWHILE:
Jay was repenting for Jake’s sins, staring up at Jungwon, who still appeared to be dissatisfied, half pressed against the man who kept on mumbling, “sorry, Wonie. I’m sorry Jungwonie, please?”
Jungwon only huffed, arms crossed tight even as Jay clung to him like an oversized koala, “you knew about the whole stupid bet and didn’t say a word. I had to watch my best friend get emotionally waterboarded for weeks.”
“I tried to stop it!” Jay whined, nuzzling his face into Jungwon’s shoulder, “I told Jake it was a terrible idea at least thirteen times—”
“Fourteen,” Sunghoon and Heeseung deadpanned from the couch.
Jaemin, already sprawled in the armchair rocking a fresh black eye and split lip, let out a smug little snort, “relax, you babies. I was trying to get them together.”
Jeno, sitting on the floor looking two seconds from committing murder, dragged a hand down his face, “they didn’t even fucking know each other, Jaemin.”
Jaemin shrugged, completely unfazed, “but I saw the bigger picture.”
Heeseung threw a pillow at his head, “there were better ways, you absolute menace.”
Jaemin dodged it with a grin, “yeah, but none as entertaining.” He popped a chip in his mouth and asked casually, “now who do I do next?”
The entire room exploded at once.
“No.”
“Fuck no.”
“Touch another person and I’m punching you this time.”
“I swear to God, Jaemin—”
Jaemin just laughed, raising his hands like he was innocent, “fine. Jay’s next.”
The poor guy looked up in horror.
“Absolutely the fuck not,” Jungwon snapped, yanking Jay behind him like a human shield who only blushed at the display of power, “you stay the hell away from him, Jaemin. End of discussion.”
