PLOT! AITA for using my best friends inner thoughts to fuck with him throughout the week until he is forced to admit his feelings for me out loud?
CONTENT! Sunghoon/Fem!Reader, Fluff, Reader can hear thoughts, Bestie!Sunghoon, Sunghoon acts nonchalant, His thoughts tell a different story, SMUT (MDNI), Top!Sunghoon, Soft Dom!Sunghoon, Desperate!Sunghoon, P in V, Unprotected Sex (pls wrap b4 u tap), Oral (f receiving), Yearner!Sunghoon, I believe this is considered psychological warfare, Y/n is a literal menace.
AUTHORS NOTE! got this plot from a randomr eddit video i saw on tiktok where the girl was married to this nonchalant guy and she could suddenly hear his thoughts and he was such a loser who wanted her so badd OOOOH sunghoon ur perfect for this bend over.
WORD COUNT! 7.2k!!!
It was a cold January night when it first happened.
You were on the couch, watching Silence of the Lambs (aka the most absurd movie ever) with your best friend, Park Sunghoon. It was your weekly movie night, and last time was at his place, so this time was at yours.
The setup was the same as always. Blanket split unevenly between the two of you—his fault, it’s always his fault—your legs tucked underneath you, his stretched out across the coffee table like he owned the place. Which, at this point, was basically true. Sunghoon had a key. He knew where the good snacks were hidden. He’d argued with you about your IKEA furniture assembly and been right about it. If that didn’t make someone a co-owner, nothing did.
“This movie is not scary,” he said flatly, reaching into the popcorn bowl on your lap without looking away from the screen.
“I never said it was scary. I said it was disturbing. There’s a difference.”
“Well it’s neither.”
“A man is making a suit out of human skin, Sunghoon.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
You looked at him. “Where?”
He paused. “Nature documentaries.”
You laughed before you could stop yourself, and something shifted in his expression. Barely anything, just the faintest softening in the corner of his eyes. It was so quick you almost missed it. Almost.
That was the thing about Park Sunghoon. On the outside, he was the picture of composure. Unhurried. Unbothered. The kind of person who could be late to his own birthday party and somehow make everyone else feel like they’d arrived too early. He was like that in class, too. Front row, never frantic, taking notes in that annoyingly neat handwriting of his while everyone around him was three lectures behind and quietly spiraling.
You had met him in your first year, in a mandatory elective neither of you wanted to be in. He’d sat next to you because it was the only seat left, and when the professor had asked everyone to introduce themselves to the person beside them, he had looked at you and said—very seriously—"How fast do you think we could get through this syllabus if we actually tried?”
You had been best friends ever since.
It made sense, in the way that certain things just did. You moved at the same pace. You thought the same things were funny. You could sit in silence for hours and it never felt like anything needed to be filled. He was the person you called when something went wrong and also when something went right. Somewhere along the way those two categories had quietly expanded to include everything in between.
Which was fine. Completely fine. You were not in love with your best friend.
You were almost certain.
On screen, Clarice was walking into the dark. You shifted on the couch, tugging the blanket back toward your side, and Sunghoon let you without comment. This meant he wasn’t paying attention. You glanced over at him.
He was looking at the TV, jaw resting on his hand, expression perfectly neutral. His hair was a little messy—he had come straight from practice, changed into a hoodie in your bathroom, and left his back by the door like he always did. There was something easy about having him here. Something that had started feeling dangerously close to necessary.
You looked back at the screen.
That was when it happened.
No warning. No build-up. No cinematic crack of lightning or sudden ringing in your ears. One moment there was the sound of Clarice's heavy breathing, the low ambient noise of your apartment, the rustle of the blanket—
And then there was a voice.
She always laughs like that when she’s actually surprised. Like she tried to hold it in and lost.
You froze.
The voice was his. Not out loud. His mouth hadn’t moved, you looked right at him. But it was unmistakably Sunghoon’s voice, low and even, like he was narrating a novel.
You didn’t move.
She’s been using the same shampoo since second year. I don’t know why I know that.
Your heart stopped. You turned very slowly to look at him. He was still watching the movie. Completely still, completely unaware. The popcorn bowl was between you and he reached into it again without looking and his arm brushed yours and—
Don’t make it weird. Don’t make it weird. You’re fine. She’s just… A pause. She’s right there.
You stared at him, but he didn’t stare back. He watched Anthony Hopkins monologue as if absolutely nothing was happening, as if his internal voice had not just short-circuited your entire brain, and you sat there in the blue light of your TV thinking: what the fuck.
You didn’t sleep well that night.
Not because of the movie. The movie was fine. Buffalo Bill was unsettling on a conceptual level but you’d watched it twice before and you had a high threshold for cinematic weirdness. No, you didn’t sleep because you laid in bed staring at the ceiling and replayed every single thing you’d heard for the remaining forty minutes of the film.
And there had been a lot.
Her apartment always smells like that candle. I should figure out what scent it is. For no reason.
She’s cold. She’s not going to say anything. She’ll just suffer. I should—and then he’d shifted and tugged part of the blanket over to your side without a word, like he’d just decided something.
Two more weeks until her birthday. I already know what I’m getting her. I’ve known for three months. That’s normal… that's a normal amount of time to know
She’s laughing again. Okay. Cool. I’m fine.
You rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow.
Park Sunghoon. Your best friend. The most unreadable person you had ever met in our life, who apparently had an entire internal monologue dedicated to noticing things about you. Your laugh, your shampoo, your candle, the way you got cold and didn’t say so. And he never let any of it reach his face.
For how long? How long had this been happening?
You thought about the soft look he’d tried to hide when you laughed. You thought about the blanket. You thought about I’ve known for three months, that’s normal—
You groaned into your pillow. This was a lot of information to receive on a Tuesday.
The next morning, you tested it.
Sunghoon had a habit of coming over early on Wednesdays because you both had the same 10 am lecture and he lived closer to your building than campus. It was an arrangement that had started practically and continued sentimentally, which was very on-brand for your entire friendship.
You knocked at 8:52. You opened the door in your oversized sweatshirt and immediately, before he’d even said hello—
She looks good in the mornings. She always looks good in the mornings. Fuck, thats extremly inconvenient.
You felt your face do something. You couldn’t control it.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing.” You stepped back. “I made coffee.”
He came in, dropped his bag, accepted the mug you handed him, and leaned against your kitchen counter with the air of someone who had never experienced a chaotic thought in his life. You watched him over the rim of your own mug and waited.
She’s staring.
It’s fine. She stares sometimes. It means nothing. Don’t read into it.
… She’s still staring.
“I’m not staring,” you said, more like blurted.
He looked at you. “I didn’t say you were.”
Fuck. “You were thinking it.” You said, which was technically true in the most unhinged way possible.
Sunghoon looked at you for a moment longer than necessary. Then he took a sip of his coffee. “Okay,” he said, in a tone that meant he had filed this away and would return to it later.
You needed a plan.
Here’s what you knew:
Sunghoon was not going to say anything. That was simply not how he worked. He could think about your shampoo and memorize your candle scent and spend three months deciding on a birthday gift and still show up every Wednesday looking like a man without a single complicated feeling. He would do this indefinitely. He would probably take it to his grave.
And you—you, who had spent the better part of a year trying very hard not to notice the way he looked at you sometimes—were not going to wait for a grave.
So you made a decision.
You were going to give Park Sunghoon exactly what he wanted. Piece by piece. Situation by situation, all of it carefully constructed so that he thought it was happening naturally. And at the end of it, he was going to have no choice but to say it out loud.
All you had to do was listen.
It started small.
Friday night, you invited him to the convenience store. Normal enough, you did this roughly once a week, usually for ramen and whatever snack had rotated its way onto the seasonal shelf. But this time, on the way back, you chose the path along the river instead of the shortcut through the carpark.
It was cold enough that your breath fogged the air. The streetlights caught in the water. You had your hands tucked into your sleeves, thinking that this had been a good idea when Sunghoon’s voice materialized quietly in your head.
I always want to walk this way. She never wants to walk this way.
You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Isn’t this nicer?”
A beat passed. “Yeah.” He said. He was looking ahead, but something in his shoulders had settled. “It is.”
She remembered.
He didn’t say it out loud, of course he didn’t. But you heard it, warm and quiet, and you had to look away before your face gave you away completely.
The next one was trickier.
You were in the library, 3rd floor, your usual table by the window. While you worked through problem sets, Sunghoon arrived twenty minutes later and folded himself into the seat next to you. He unpacked in silence, which was normal. Then he went quiet in that particular way he had where he was trying to figure something out and didn’t want to ask for help, which you also knew, because you knew all of his silences.
You waited.
I could just ask her. She’d explain it without making me feel stupid. She never makes me feel stupid.
But then she’ll know I didn’t understand the lecture and she’ll—
She won’t care. She genuinely will not give two shits.
Obviously I know that. That’s not the issue, the issue is that shes—
A pause.
She’s the only person I actually want help from. Is that a weird thing to feel this strongly about?
You looked up from your notes. “Do you want me to walk you through the regression model? I had to redo it like twice before it clicked.” Not technically a lie.
Sunghoon looked up at you.
“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your face carefully neutral. “It’s faster if we do it together.”
Something moved behind his eyes. Not readable: it never quite was. But it was there. He slid his notebook across the table toward you. “Okay.”
You worked through it side by side, your handwriting appearing in the margins of his notes, carefully avoiding his various doodles across the page. Your shoulders pressed close together so you could feel the warmth of him. And under everything, you could hear him thinking:
This is my favorite way to study. This is my favorite way to do a lot of things.
Then came the party.
Jungwon’s birthday parties had a reputation. What started as a small gathering with a reasonable headcount always turned into something completely different by 11 pm. More people, more noise, more empty bottles lined up along the windowsill like a timeline of bad decisions. You had been to enough of them to know to eat beforehand.
You arrived a little after 10. Sunghoon was already there—you found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in his hand, talking to someone from his major with the energy of a person attending a very calm business lunch. Completely unbothered. Completely composed.
You felt him notice you before he looked up.
There she is.
Warm. Immediate. Like a reflex he’d long stopped trying to correct.
You made your way over and he handed you a drink without being asked, already knowing. Smirnoff Ice Raspberry. What a gentleman.
“How long have you been here?” You asked him.
“An hour.”
“An hour and you’re already relaxed?” You say, gesturing to what you can clearly tell is not his first drink of the night.
“I’m always relaxed.”
I am not relaxed. Her outfit is so small and I’ve been here an hour just wondering when she would show up and she shows up in that!
You took a sip of your drink to hide your expression.
By eleven, the party had done its inevitable thing. The hallway was full, the music was louder, and someone had started a game in the living room that you’d opted out of on principle. You weren’t really in the mood to kiss random men when you had one pining over you in his head.
You were on your 3rd drink, warm at the edges, feeling the particular looseness that came from just enough and not too much.
Sunghoon was on something closer to his fifth.
You could tell only because you knew him. To anyone else, he looked exactly the same. Same posture, same unhurried delivery, same expression that gave away absolutely nothing. He was holding his cup with the same quiet authority he held everything. Responding to people in full, measured sentences.
But his thoughts.
She laughed at something. I didn’t hear what it was. Doesn’t matter, I’d listen to her laugh for an unreasonable amount of time and never get tired. I’ve accepted that.
You pressed your lips together and did your best to bite back the blush running towards your cheeks.
Her drink is almost empty. I should—a pause, like he was negotiating with himself—no. That’s too obvious. She can get her own. She doesn’t need me to—
You watched him glance at your cup from across the room, completely imperceptibly, and then look away.
Fuck this. I can’t let anyone here think she’s single. Even though she is. Fuck.
He appeared by your side sixty seconds later and held one out. You took it.
“Thank you!” You said.
“Mhm.” He looked at the room.
She smells like that candle again. She must’ve been home before this. God I’m pathetic.
You stared very hard at a window across the room and reminded yourself to breathe normally.
It got worse—better, actually—as the night went on.
You found a quieter corner of the apartment, as you usually did, and the party moved around you while you stayed still. This was your pattern. Your orbit. Sunghoon stood close enough that your shoulders almost touched and talked to you in that low, even voice of his about nothing important—a lecture, a teammate, something Sunoo had said earlier that had mildly irritated him.
I think about telling her all the time. Like, constantly. It’s become a problem. I’ll be in the middle of something completely unrelated and I’ll just—think about her. The way she argued about things she cares about. The way she falls asleep during movies and then insists she wasn’t sleeping.
She’s always sleeping. I never say anything. I let her have it. I’d let her have everything if that’s what she wanted
Later, the crowd thinned. Someone swapped the music for something slower and the kitchen light cast everything in a warm gold. You were feeling pretty drunk, loose and light and devious, if you were 100% honest.
Because here’s the thing. You had spent the past 2 hours listening to Sunghoon’s internal monologue short-circuit in real time, and the drinks had made you brave, and you decided you were going to have fun.
You turned to face him fully and leaned your shoulder against the wall so you were looking up at him. Close. Closer than you’d normally stand.
“You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“More than usual.”
He looked at you. Said nothing, of course. His face was perfectly, infuriatingly composed.
She’s standing really close. Okay, that’s fine. She does that sometimes. It doesn’t mean any—she’s looking at me like that again.
You smiled, slow and deliberate, and watched his jaw shift almost imperceptibly.
“What?” He asked.
“Nothing.” You reached over and fixed the collar of his shirt—it didn’t need fixing. You just did it. Fingers brushing the side of his neck for half a second before you pull your hand back.
The thought that hit you was instantaneous.
Oh. A pause. Don’t. Do not.
His expression didn’t change. He simply looked at you with the same unhurried calm he looked at everything with and said “Thanks” in a voice that gave you nothing.
You were going to lose your mind. Give me something, asshole!
You shifted closer under the pretense of someone passing behind you and didn’t shift back. Your hand was on his arm now, you could feel the warmth of him through his sleeve.
She’s not moving. She’s not moving and I cant—I need to—Fuck she looks so good tonight. She always looks so good—I’m going to need a cold shower tonight.
“Cold?” He asked.
You tried not to laugh at how well it connected to his thoughts. “A little.” You lied.
He didn’t say anything, but he turned very slightly so his body was angled towards yours, the smallest possible adjustment, like he was trying to do so without admitting he was doing it.
Keep talking, his thoughts said, unprompted. Just keep talking to me. I don’t care what you say, I just wanna—
“Tell me something.” You say.
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
He considered this with great seriousness of someone preparing for war. You watching him think and heard the entire thing unravel. I want to tell her so many things. I want to tell her that I think about her all the time. I want to tell her she’s the first person I want to call when anything bad happens. I want to tell her to touch me and never stop.
“Jungwon’s playlist sucks.” Is what he chose instead.
You laughed. You couldn’t help it. The contrast of his thoughts to the words coming out of his mouth was just too hilarious for you to handle. He watched you laugh and his thought arrived soft and immediate:
There it is.
You looked back up at him, still smiling, and let the moment stretch. Then, slowly, you reached out and took the cup from his hand—just to take a sip, just as an excuse—your fingers overlapping his for a second before he let go.
His entire internal monologue went briefly nonverbal for a moment.
Fuck she has no idea what she’s doing to me. She genuinely cannot know. If she knew she would—she wouldn’t—she doesn’t—
A pause. A long one, actually.
Does she know?
You handed the cup back. Your fingers brushed him again on the pass. Deliberate. Completely deliberate.
I want you so bad.
The thought arrived and made you almost choke on air. It was so helplessly honest that it made your stomach flip. Not chaotic, necessarily, just true. Simple and overwhelming and incredibly sincere and raw.
I’ve wanted you for so long and you’re just standing here and I can’t tell you! Not like this.
But please don’t move.
You don’t move. Sunghoon stood beside you looking unbothered.
This, you thought, was the most fun you had ever had in your entire life.
Your shared 10 am was held in a wide tiered lecture hall that fit about two hundred students and smell permanently of coffee and resignation. You sat in the same spot every week, middle left. Close enough to see the slides, far enough to feel like you had options. Sunghoon always sat next to you.
You go there first on Tuesday. When he arrived, he dropped into the seat next to you and pulled out his notebook. You were ready.
You chose to wait until the lecture started, until he was settled. Pen in hand, paying attention the way he always did.
Then you leaned over, close enough that your shoulder pressed into his and whispered “Can I borrow a pen?”
You had 3 in your bag. He didn’t know that.
He reached into his case without looking and held one out. Your fingers closed around it slowly, over his, just for a second longer than necessary.
Don’t fucking look at her. Look at the slide. There is a slide, dammit.
You settled back into your seat and uncapped the pen like nothing happened. Ten minutes later you leaned in again. “What did he say? I missed it.” Your lips were approximately four inches from his ear. You felt him go very still and you smiled.
She smells so good. Why does she always—focus! He’s talking about monetary policy. Monetary policy. That’s what's important right now.
“Quantitative easing.” he said, in a voice that was completely level. Not even a crack.
“Thanks,” you murmured, and sat back.
I cannot believe I’m this affected by quantitative easing.
Sunghoon played like he did everything else, with total composure and quiet precision. Like the game was simply a problem being solved in real time. You had been to his matches before but usually with a group. This time you came alone and found a spot near the front and he saw you during warm ups.
You waved.
His expression softened the slightest bit. She’s wearing my hoodie.
You were, in fact, wearing his hoodie. The one he’d left at your place three weeks ago and you’d simply never given it back. You had put it on this morning with full awareness of what you were doing and zero remorse.
That’s my hoodie on her and she looks—I have a game. I have a game in four minutes. Get your fucking shit together.
He focused on the game. You watched him be extraordinary at it with the detached calm of someone who had done it a thousand times, and every few minutes a thought would surface.
Is she still here? She is. Good.
At halftime he jogged to the sideline and grabbed his water bottle and glanced at you once. It was brief, but you smiled as always and tucked your hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.
She’s so cute.
Then he went back to playing.
After the final whistle—they won, 2-1, Sunghoon had assisted in both goals with the energy of a man doing his grocery shopping—he found you at the edge of the field. Hair slightly damp, still catching his breath, looking at you with a gaze like you were the only girl in the world.
“You played great!”
“Thank you.” He said breathlessly.
You reached up and fixed a part of his hair that had fallen across his forehead, the same way you fixed his collar at the party. Easy and unbothered.
I’m so in love with her it’s embarrassing. And she’s still touching my hair. I will stand here forever. I will stand on this field until the groundskeepers kick me off.
It was a Saturday when it stopped being a game.
Not because you decided it. Not because anything dramatic happened to signal a shift. It was a Saturday and you were making dinner and Sunghoon was in your kitchen, and somewhere between the two of you it just became too much.
It had started normally enough. He texted at five asking if you’d eaten. You hadn’t. He showed up twenty minutes later with groceries and no further explanation, which was so perfectly, infuriatingly him that you hadn’t even questioned it. This was just a thing he did. This was just how he was with you.
The kitchen was warm. You had music on low—something ambient and unhurried. Sunghoon had taken over the stove with the quiet authority he applied to everything while you sat at the counter and handled the easier tasks: chopping, stirring, handing things over when he asked.
It was comfortable, it was always comfortable with him.
But you had spent a week being deliberate about every point of contact and now you were tired and warm and a little undone by the Friday couch moment still sitting in your chest, and tonight you weren't being strategic. Tonight things just kept — happening.
Like the way you leaned over to check on the pan and your arm slid along his. The way he reached past you for the salt and didn't move back immediately. The way the kitchen was small and you were both in it and neither of you seemed to be trying very hard to maintain any kind of distance.
She's everywhere in this apartment, he thought, while stirring something and looking straight ahead. Everything here is her. I come here and it just — feels like her. I don't know what to do with that.
You handed him a spoon without being asked and your fingers touched and the thought that followed was short and unadorned:
I love her.
Not feral. Not desperate. Just true, the way facts were true, the way gravity was true, delivered in the same internal voice he used to note the weather or remember an appointment.
I love her and I don't know how much longer I can—
"You're quiet," you said.
"I'm always quiet."
"Different quiet."
He glanced at you. "You say that a lot."
"Because it keeps being true."
He looked at you for a moment, something unreadable moving behind his eyes, and then looked back at the stove.
You watched him. The line of his shoulders, the careful way he moved, the complete and total composure he maintained at all times like it cost him nothing when you knew — you knew now — exactly what it cost.
You slid off the counter and moved to stand beside him. Not for any reason. Just to be closer.
She's right next to me. She keeps doing this. She's been doing this all week and I—I don't know if she knows what she's doing. I think she might know. Does she know?
You reached past him to adjust the heat on the burner — he was standing right there, you had to reach across him to get to it, your arm brushing his chest for a half second — and when you pulled back you turned your head and found his face much closer than you'd anticipated.
Neither of you moved.
Okay, his brain said, with a kind of strained calm. Okay. This is—She's right there. She's looking at me. I have been in love with her for over a year and she is right there and I—
"Y/N."
His voice came out different. Lower. The composure was still there but something underneath it that wasn't, some thread pulled just tight enough that you could hear it.
"Yeah?" you said.
He looked at you. Really looked — the way he had on the couch on Friday, no pretense, no performance, just Sunghoon looking at you like you were something he'd stopped being able to look away from.
"What are you doing?" he said.
It wasn't accusatory. It was quiet. Genuine. Like he actually needed to know.
And here was the thing — here was the part you hadn't planned for — you opened your mouth to say something easy and deflecting and instead what came out was the truth.
"I don't know anymore," you said. "I think I stopped doing anything on purpose about three days ago."
Something in his face shifted. The last careful layer of it, the one he always kept in reserve, the one you'd never seen him let go of before.
"Three days ago," he repeated.
"The game," you said. "Friday. You were just — you were just being you and I—" you stopped. Laughed a little, helplessly. "I've been driving myself crazy, Sunghoon."
She—
His thought didn't finish. Like his brain had simply stopped processing and switched to something else entirely.
"You've been driving yourself crazy," he said, and something in his voice had shifted too, something dry and disbelieving and warm underneath it. "You've been driving me crazy for a week. You know that, right?"
You looked at him. "Have I?"
"In lecture," he said. "The couch. The game." A pause. "The collar." He said the last one quietly, like it had been living in him since the party and had just now been let out.
"The collar," you repeated innocently.
"You knew what you were doing."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Y/N."
"Sunghoon."
He looked at you for a long moment, this boy who never cracked, who never rushed, who kept everything behind his eyes until he decided otherwise — and then he decided otherwise.
"I'm in love with you," he said. Simple. Direct. Like he'd taken aim and let go. "I have been for a long time and this week has been the most unhinged experience of my life so if you have something to tell me I really think you should tell me now."
The most unhinged experience of my life. You almost laughed again. He had no idea. "I'm in love with you too," you said. "I have been. For a long time, I think."
He exhaled.
Not dramatically — this was Sunghoon, nothing was ever dramatic — just a slow breath out, like something he'd been holding had finally been set down. His hand came up and found your jaw, tilted your face up toward his, and he looked at you for one long, unhurried moment the way he did everything.
There she is, he thought, soft and certain and final. There she is.
Then he kissed you.
It was warm and quiet and careful and then — when you kissed him back, when your hand found the front of his shirt — not careful at all. His other hand found your waist and pulled you closer and you went, and the food on the stove went briefly unattended, and the music played on low in the background of your apartment that smelled like his candle and yours combined now, that had his bag by the door and his key on the hook, that had been halfway his for a long time already.
His last coherent thought, before everything else: Finally.
He kissed you like a man starved, and after everything you had heard the past couple of weeks, he was starved. His hands tightened on your waist the slightest bit, almost as if he was afraid you would leave.
You wouldn’t dream of it.
Your hands dragged up his shirt and towards the back of his neck, pushing him closer and playing with his hair. Sunghoon let out a shaky breath, which made you smile into the kiss.
“Shut.” Kiss. “Up.” Another kiss. His voice was so low that it shocked you, but you were too busy to even fully notice.
“I didn’t say anything.” You say in between his kisses. Eventually you force yourself to pull away. His face looks like you just slapped him, but you caress his face. “I’m just turning off the stove.”
Sunghoon pursed his lips together. “Right. I forgot. I was kinda distracted.”
You stare at him for a moment, taking him in. His flushed cheeks, his glossy eyes, his hands that refuse to leave your waist. “At the risk of sounding too forward—”
“Be forward. That’s all I’ve wanted this entire week.”
You nod. “Well.. we can go to my room…?”
You barely got the chance to hear his brain fry itself when he smashes his lips back down onto yours. He seems hungrier now, and the thought has you reeling. All you can hear are bits and pieces. Please, and I’m obsessed with you, cross his mind over and over again, but you’re too involved in him to care.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a please.”
Sunghoon keeps kissing you as the two of you walk (awkwardly. It’s surprisingly hard to keep a straight line of direction when a man is kissing the shit out of you) to your bedroom. The door was already open, and your bed was already made. The two of you just flopped onto the mattress, not bothering to stop.
He laid above you, moving from your lips to everywhere else. “I’ve been in love with you,” a kiss on the cheek, “since that IKEA argument,” a kiss on your jaw, “when you were wearing that stupid,” kiss on the neck, “fucking,” kiss on your collarbone, “shirt.” He keeps kissing you, mumbling more. “It was the tiniest shirt in existence and you wore it around me.”
“It was the first shirt I saw that day.”
“Well it made me really hard.” He says, looking down at you.
“Oh, did it now?” You say, a playful smirk on your face.
He wipes that smirk off with a kiss, trailing back down to the collarbone, sucking on various spots. You choose not to think about how much of a pain it will be to whisk those out of your skin before your shift. Instead, you choose to live in the moment.
His hands trail from your waist to your sides. “Can I?” He asks, hands incredibly still. You nod, but that’s not enough for him. “Please say it.”
“Yes, Sunghoon.”
He wastes no time in taking your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in your room for you to find later. “So beautiful.” He mumbles, almost incoherently. “Wanted this for so long. You for so long.”
Every word, every kiss, every touch sends sparks up and down your body. You don’t know how you’ve lived without this, but now that you have it you won’t ever give it up. You run your hands under his shirt and on his bare skin, feeling the warmth of the man on top of you.
It’s barely even a touch, and yet he folds completely. Head in your neck, holding you tightly. You feel the outline of abs and a strong v line, hands going lower and lower. Instead of the obvious, you choose to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it. He instantly moves, allowing you to pull the shirt off him—with his help of course.
You had seen him shirtless before. Sophomore year pool party hosted by Jake. But this is completely different. 2 years of soccer and consistent working out has made this man built. And you were not complaining.
You grab his jeans and pull him back in, but he stops himself.
“I wanna try something.”
You give him a nod, and he moves to pull down your sweatpants, leaving you in just a bra and underwear. Sunghoons eyes rake over your body in a way that screams adoration. If you had ever thought he didn’t like you, his actions now change your mind immediately.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
“Okay.” You say quietly, unsure of what's to come.
He starts kissing your neck once more, moving down to your collarbone, then shoulder, then sternum. He makes it his mission to kiss every part of you. Your tits, your stomach, your hips. You don’t even realize how far down he is until he plants a kiss right above your underwear.
He goes to one hip, then the other, planting kisses on both. But instead of going where you want him, he goes to your thighs. He starts at the left, gentle kisses up and down your inner thigh, making you squirm. At the right, his kisses are still gentle, but they're closer now. Closer to where you want him. To where he wants to be.
“So beautiful.” He murmurs, finally pressing a kiss to your clothed heat. A delicate kiss, yet it made you squirm. God, this man is the devil.
“Please…” You sigh, not even realizing that you said it.
“Whatever you want.” He hooks a finger around your underwear, dragging the lavender cloth down your legs slowly. He makes sure to actually take them off, and not let them pool around your ankles, and then spreads your legs just a bit. “Are you sure?”
You nod. “I’m sure.”
That's all he needed before he put his mouth on you. Soft kisses that drive you crazy, hands grasping the duvet and teeth biting your lip. The pace is brutally slow, testing the waters. But he speeds up a bit. One hand under your leg, pulling you closer, the other on your clit, making slow circles as he eats you out.
If you thought he kissed you like a man starved, then you would be surprised at how he is once he truly tastes you. Hands grip you tightly, moving faster and faster as his tongue makes you cry out. He laps at your folds, tongue going in and out of you on occasion. You close your legs around his head, and he groans like you just gave him dessert.
You’re so close, you can feel it. And he can too. But he pulls away at the last moment, wiping at his mouth.
Sunghoon takes a moment to admire you. Naked from the waist down, a simple bra covering you. You’re panting, desperate to reach the orgasm that was cruelly ripped away from you by the man who almost gave you it.
You give him a look, and he gives you one back. “I’ll eat you out as many times as you want later, but right now I just wanna fuck you.”
“I’m on the pill.” You say.
He closes his eyes for a moment. “Is that enough for you? Cause I’ll go get condoms—”
“It’s enough.” You interrupt him, hand on the buckle of his jeans, slowly unworking it. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more than you want him right now. Maybe that’s insane to say, but you don’t care. Not when the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen is about to fuck you.
The two of you waste no time in taking off his jeans, and then his boxers. He also makes sure to take your bra off too.
You aren’t new to sex. It’s a very straightforward process. But sex with Sunghoon seems different. There's nothing wrong with him, it's just the fact you’ve known him for so long and he’s your best friend, and what if this ruins things?
“Hey.” He says, snapping you out of the trainwreck that is your thoughts. “Are you 100% sure? If you say no then I’ll stop, I promise.”
“It’s not that,” You pause, avoiding eye contact with him and his naked lower half. “I just don’t want this to ruin things.”
His hand goes to your waist, gentle and comforting. “This won’t ruin anything. I’ll still be in love with you after this, probably even more than I am right now.”
You think for a second before nodding. “Okay.”
“You still want this?”
“Yes, Sunghoon.” You say with a faux-annoyed face.
He gives you the most genuine smile as he presses his tip against you. The feeling sends a shock straight to your core, and you’ve never wanted anything more than you do right now. He rubs his tip up and down your folds, letting the pre-cum mix with the wetness that was pooling out of you.
“I’ll go slow, okay?” Sunghoon pushes in slowly, true to his word. You wince, but not in pain. In pleasure. You’re completely engulfing his tip, and he’s looking at it like it’s the Mona Lisa. “Jesus Christ." His voice is low, gravely, and possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.
He continues to push, letting your pussy swallow him whole. When he’s finally in, he looks at you first to make sure you’re ready and that you’re still okay. It’s sweet, but you aren’t in the mood for sweet.
And somehow, he hears you loud and clear. He pulls back almost all the way, until it’s just the tip again, and slams into you.
It has you gasping for air, grabbing the blanket, the pillow, him. He keeps up the pace. Brutal, yet slow. A harsh slam in, a slow drag out. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.
“Sunghoon…” You whine.
“You want more?”
You nod, and he obliges immediately, snapping his hips into yours faster. You're moaning and writhing underneath him but he doesn’t stop. After all, this is what you wanted.
It smells of sex, and the only sound you can hear is skin slapping, your whines, and his little groans. Back and forth and back and forth, it’s too much.
You can feel a pool in your core tightening, and in a moment of pure lust you wrap your legs around him and pull him closer. “You’re fucking evil.” He almost growls, going faster if that was even possible.
Sunghoon’s as desperate as you are, slamming his hips into yours with strength and precision of a man who worked for this his entire life. You can barely form words, just moans as he goes in and out of you.
You tighten around him and he whines, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. But you don’t get a chance to focus on that.
“I know honey, I know. Me too, sweet girl.”
His hips stutter, but he’s back on track, fucking you the way you deserve after weeks of psychological torture and cold showers on his part. He’s dreamed of this more times than you could imagine. But this is better than any dream of his. Because you’re under him, eyes shut in pleasure as he fucks the shit out of you the way he’s wanted for so long.
“I’m close.” You manage, hands grabbing on his biceps.
He speeds up. “You wanna cum?” You nod, a tear falling out of your eye from how good everything feels. As he drags himself in and out of you, a hand falls to your clit, rubbing fast circles. You let out a loud moan, only enticing him to keep going. “Come on honey, cum with me.”
He plays with your folds for a few more seconds before your hips buck without warning, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you come undone over his dick. Your legs shake around his abdomen, and you let out a silent cry.
“Good girl. I’m so close okay? Where do you want me?” He asks, slowing down just a bit.
You’re still reeling from your orgasm and the fact he’s still fucking you. “Anywhere.”
He places both of his hands around you, caging you in as he pounds into you with no remorse, desperate for a release. He can feel you clenching around him, and that’s what sends him over the edge.
“Fuck!” His hips stutter for the final time, pressing into you fully. His head drops down, almost heavy from the week long torture. As he cums in you, his head drops down, almost heavy. You both don’t move for a bit, just staying still
It’s quiet. The only sound being breathing coming from the both of you.
“Did it ruin it?” He asks, breathlessly with a smirk.
“Fuck off!” You reply, lightly slapping his chest.
It was that very moment where you realized you couldn’t hear his thoughts anymore. You would miss the frantic array of thoughts that would show up when you did something miniscule to him, but you weren’t upset. This just meant he finally said all that he needed to say.
You guys😭😭I lost a precious fic. So I was reading a delicious fic where y/n was being tutored by Jake whom she apparently played with in their sandbox when she they younger but forgot about him but came to remember him after she remembered he ate a worm as a dare. Jake was staring at her tits the whole time and he ended up touching and sucking them. I refreshed my page and it disappeared😭😭😭
I need to know how it ends.
If anyone's read this or anything remotely close to Jake being a sucker for tits.....help a gal out😪😪
sypnosis: getting paired up with nishimura riki for a project was not apart of your plan for second semester, considering he's quite literally known for simply not caring. But who knows, maybe he's willing to make an exception.
contains: suggestive jokes, cussing, featuring the following: Jake, Jungwon, Heeseung, Sunoo, Yunjin, (more to be added)
genuinely have up to 5 parts of this rotting in my drafts so i might as well start releasing them—i made this for fun btw!
(not falling for the whole “niki is nonchalant” thing)
who knew having two guys wanting you could feel so good, especially when its your hot best friend, park sunghoon, and the new australian transfer student, sim jaeyun. why choose one when you could have both?
park sunghoon + sim jaeyun x fem!reader
genre: college/hockey au
content warnings: smut, very suggestive, jealous/possessive themes, mean dom sunghoon, soft dom (almost sub?) jake, threesome, pussy eating, slapping, fingering, squirting, cum eating, it gets messy. dry humping, boob obsessed jake! teasing, sexting, unprotected sex, slight size kink, morally grey characters, y/n loves the attention (she pretends she doesn’t), they bring her freak out but who wouldn’t for jakehoon? featuring: heeseung and jay, this is pretty much porn with a plot btw..
word count: 15k
Every university has its sport, football, baseball, basketball, you name it. Crimson University has them all of course. But where they really specialize in, is Hockey.
One of the most intense sports played on ice. Especially by your school's team. Aggressive would be an understatement, it's straight up brutal in that rink.
You used to wonder what it felt like, the adrenaline rush. But watching became more your speed. Which is why you’re standing a few feet away from your university's hockey team, the players standing up, sticks banging against the boards, shouting as Park Sunghoon lands a punch on an opponent from the other team.
You shouldn’t even be surprised either, considering he's always been terrible at keeping his anger in, and that this sport is the only way he tends to get it out.
You two have been friends for a while, if 5 years could be considered that. Back when he was bench warming at your high school Hockey teams game as freshmen, you were taking yearbook photos. Funny how it's almost parallel to what's happening at this very moment.
Except, Park Sunghoon is now one of the best players on the team, Hell— maybe even in the country. And you’re majoring in journalism, getting photos for the weekly newsletter.
You thought that once he reached big league status after you both got accepted into Crimson University, he'd maybe forget about you..?
But that's far from the truth, how could he? You were the one person who actually tried to get to know him in highschool, when he was just some twig to snap on the ice.
Yeah, it was for a yearbook interview you had to do. But you always had good intentions, and he looked like he needed someone to sit with at lunch that day. You've both seen each other at your best and worst, deepest secrets tucked in each other's hearts– and since then you two have been pretty much inseparable.
Everyone erupts into shouts, pure chaos in the rink, and out. The other teams student section yelling, and yours mirroring that. The hockey stick in Sunghoon's hand is long forgotten as he slams the other guy against the glass barrier, shaking it completely.
Your team's coach is blowing his whistle, yelling, but it's not enough. You watch as the boys on the rink skate over attempting to separate them, Lee Heeseung; Team captain making it there first, attempting to force Sunghoon off of the poor guy.
Park Jongseong or Jay as the team calls him, takes his other side, yelling at Sunghoon, telling him to stop, and that it's just “going to make shit worse”.
Sunghoon's fist is raised in the air, inches away from the guy in front of him who decided now was the time to make a comment about you. “Hoon— man we need you, don’t fuck it up.” Heeseung says. Placing a hand on his shoulder.
You watch from a distance as Sunghoon lowers his fist, pushing off the guy and stepping back, picking up his hockey stick to skate back to the other side.
The coach doesn’t even have to say anything because Sunghoon goes straight into the penalty box. And he knows he’s going to hear that shit later in the locker room.
You glance over at him a few feet away from you, shaking your head as he takes off his helmet, his sweat clad hair sticking to his forehead. He sets it on the ground more aggressively than needed.
The rest of the team skates back over to the bench gates, gathering around the coach, most likely discussing who they are going to sub in for Sunghoon.
He looks over at you as the boys go back on ice, taking position, you adjust your camera lens, trying to get the best shots you can of your school's Hockey team. You catch him looking from the corner of your eye.
Gesturing to the penalty box he’s sitting in, you mouth the words "That's what you get” before focusing back on your camera, he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. But God knows if anyone else had said that, they’d be in deep shit.
Five minutes later they put him back on the ice, the score now a whopping 5-4, Crimson Ville in the lead of course. One minute left in the third period, there's no doubt they are taking the win. Your eyes drift to the other team and their student section still trying to stay just as hyped as yours even if they know exactly what's going to happen.
Everyone was on their feet, the players making noise, cheers coming from all around as Heeseung passes the puck to Jay, you watch as a player from the opposite team rams into him, attempting to steer him off track, Jay manages to knock it over to another player, who gets it taken by someone from the opposite team.
Sunghoon comes in full force, nearly knocking him off his feet, shoulder ramming into him as he takes the puck, skating across the ice, inching closer and closer, Sunghoon looks for the familiar 07 jersey, spotting him immediately, Heeseung. He's quick to pass it over to him, Heeseung dodges a player coming at him, getting even closer to the goal
Jay covers him, bumping into a player on Heeseung's ass, the shouts grow louder as he gets closer to the Goal, everything is going how they planned the play, just when the goalie thinks Heeseung is going to hit the puck in, Sunghoon comes in on the other side, giving Heeseung a clear opening to pass it to him. It's a flash of Red, black, and white jerseys as Sunghoon knocks the puck into the goal, the opposite team's goalie caught completely off guard by the switch up.
Everyone abrupts into screams and shouts, cheering on, chanting their names, you watch as the boys from Crimson ville step over the boards, skating over to Sunghoon and Heeseung, slapping them on their helmets encouragingly.
Sunghoon looks at the crowd in the stands, before holding up his hockey stick in dramatic victory, smile bright on his face as the crowd cheers even louder, you capture the moment through your camera lens perfectly.
With it being the first game of the season, of course there's a celebration, especially since Crimson Ville won.
Sunghoon insisted on you going, the Party being held in his shared place with Jay and Heeseung. You were familiar with the place considering you came often, and also since it was kind of a hot spot for the parties here at Uni ever since Freshman year.
You try to adjust to the smell of alcohol, sweat, and something else as you enter the house, some loud rap song playing on their obnoxiously big speakers, lights flickering, people shouting, all still buzzing from the win.
The place was packed to the brim, bodies crowded, swaying. You and your friend, who happens to be the coaches daughter, both give each other a look.
“Im gonna find Yunjin and them, you’re gonna be alright?” She asks, standing on her tip toes to somewhat observe the crowd, you offer a nod and smile as she squeezes through, disappearing in the sea of bodies.
“Y/N!” you’d recognize that voice anywhere, some heads turn as none other than Park Sunghoon approaches you, red solo cup in hand, Jersey rolled up to act as a sleeveless shirt, he throws his arm around your shoulder in the way he normally does.
People used think you two were dating—They’d look at you and say “Oh y/n, nah she’d never get with a guy like him. She has too much respect for herself to do that.” since he’s sort of developed a reputation for himself, one that includes fucking girls and never anything more.
You tried to tell him it's wrong to do that, but he tends to give excuses like “I never promised them anything.” You roll your eyes as he guides you to the kitchen where you recognize the other players' faces.
“Aye, look who made it,” Heeseung says, pouring you a drink. “Someone wouldn't stop begging me too.” You eye Sunghoon who raises his hands innocently, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face. You take the drink from Heeseung, sipping a little before nearly gagging.
“God– what did you put in this, its radioactive” You stick your tongue out in a disgusted manner earning a laugh from him, “Jay mixed a bunch of shit together, apparently its one of his famous mixed drinks” Sunghoon mocks, getting a light shove from Jay who sniffs the drink in his cup “Its not even that bad– fuck, okay never mind.” He sets his cup down earning even more laughs.
Some more people fill up the kitchen, you prop yourself up on the counter, Sunghoon leans against it beside you. “So, get any good photos of me?” He asks, looking at you. “If you’re talking about the way you clip farmed at the end, then yes.” You stifle a laugh, “You know my best angles baby” He winks, you shove his shoulder, he holds it dramatically faking hurt making you laugh even harder.
You watch as a girl approaches him, no surprise with that. Dress clinging to her body, his gaze immediately drops to her chest before looking at her face. You take that as your sign to hop off the counter, he opens his mouth to call back for you but the girl already takes her chance, and you definitely don't want to know what she has to say.
You spot your friends on the couch, some clinging to the other players on the team, “-some big shot guy from Australia?” Jay questions, leaning over Heeseung's phone.
“Yeah– my dad said he's like really good, that's why he's transferring here.” Your friend says, repeating the words of the team's coach, You walk over, sitting in the open seat next to her on the couch, Heeseung on the other side. “Who are you guys talking about?” You ask over the loud music,
“Holy shit– He scored 56 goals last season?” Jay exclaims, scrolling on Heeseung's phone, “Man this guys something serious.” One of the other teammates says.
Heeseung leans forward to look at you, “We're getting a new transfer student, some university in Australia, I've been communicating with him a bit over break. He was supposed to be here for today's game but he couldn't make it– pretty sure he flies in on Sunday.”
Heeseung says casually eyes drifting to Jay who is now going through Heeseung's messages where he was in fact communicating with said transfer student. “Wait, is this why we still haven't accepted any offers for the extra room?” Jay asks curiously
“Yeah, he said he’d pay his side of the rent and everything, plus if he's as chill as he seems, he'll get along just right with us.” Heeseung says before snatching his phone from Jay before he sees something he shouldn't.
“Whats his name?” You ask, brow raised. “Jake Sim. Coach already has his Jersey ready, hes excited as fuck too.” Your friend chuckles, “Yeah it's all he's been talking about if it's not you, Jay or Sunghoon.” Your friend mumbles to Heeseung who says something low enough that you can't hear it.
You space out, the name sounds oddly familiar, Jake Sim..
That's when it clicks, you remember reading over the message from the Honors Society, the one where you were chosen to give a tour and help a new student, which is completely normal for those in the Program.
But now you know who that student is, Jake Sim. You don't say anything about it as conversation switches. But you know you’ll definitely look into it later.
Your eyes follow everyone else's as the team whistles, watching as Sunghoon holds the hand of the same girl from earlier, leading her up the stairs.
He offers them all the finger before disappearing. “He better be done by the time it clears out.” Jay mutters, running a hand through his hair, Heeseung chuckles knowingly.
You tilt your head questioning, “Last time he had some chick in there who couldn't keep her mouth shut for the life of her, screaming and shit–” Jay says, you cut him off “Okay, ew–” You make a disgusted face, earning a laugh from your friends.
“Girl, I don't know how you deal with him.” One of your friends say, legs swung over another players lap, you shrug offering a smile as the topic switches.
Normally you don't really stay to clean up at their place, considering it would quite literally be around 2-3 am by the time everyone clears out.
But you wanted to hear more about this Jake Sim everyone seems so eager about. “What made him want to transfer here?” You ask Heeseung curiously, washing the remains in a few used solo cups down the sink.
He throws some empty cans in a trashbag, not bothering to look at you “It was his best option, apparently he's smart as hell too.” He says casually, moving around the kitchen, putting away any extra alcohol leftover. “Oh..” You look down at your feet before washing out the sink.
“Alright backyards good, im not going any further because I dont know what im going to step into, especially with the lightweights who throw up everywhere and shit.” Jay says, shutting the glass slide door behind him.
“Did your friends head out y/n?” He asks, looking around. Heeseung's head pops up at that “Yeah, I wasn't going to make them stay to clean up.” You chuckle dryly.
“Plus, Sunghoon said he’d give me a ride.” You smile at the both of them, they give each other a look, one that you don't see before shutting off the sink and drying your hands off with a paper towel.
“Alright, but if he doesn’t come down in the next 30 minutes, Jay can take you.” Heeseung says, Jay makes an offended expression “Dude, I need my beauty sleep too–”
All three of your eyes shift to the sound of a door slamming upstairs, the culprit coming into sight right after.
The same girl from earlier that Sunghoon had brought up stomping angrily down the stairs, her steps faltering when she sees the three of you watching her with confused faces. Heeseung shakes his head knowingly before focusing back on cleaning up.
Her eyes immeditly land on you, “Fuck are you looking at?” She looks you up and down before moving to the front door, you don't say anything as she slams that one behind her as well.
“I don’t even want to know what he did.” Jay says, rubbing the back of his head.
“I’ll go talk to him.” You brush past both of them, making your way up the stairs. Your hand hovers over the handle, ultimately deciding to knock–just in case.
“Didn’t change my mind.” Sunghoon says, irritation leaking from his tone, your brows furrow before speaking up “Sunghoon, it's me.” He doesn't have to ask who, by now he's recognized the sound of your voice.
He opens the door for you 5 seconds later, you observe his room to see his clothes from earlier now discarded on the floor beside his messy bed. Hockey trophies stacked neatly along his shelf. Your eyes land on him, the grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, the black Calvin Klein branded boxers poking out.
“Put some clothes on.” You move past him, picking up a white tank top hanging on his desk chair and throwing it at his chest. He chuckles before putting it on and shutting the door, laying on his bed causally.
He leans against his pillows, arms resting behind his head as he watches you. “Come’re” He pats the spot next to him, you slip off your sneakers before sitting down beside him.
“She seemed pretty upset.” You look down at him warily, he tries not to smile at your expression “Don’t worry about it, just lay with me for a little.” He says, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you flush against him.
You relax into his hold, hand resting on his chest “You still need to drive me home.” You mutter, eyes already feeling drowsy as his large hand flattens on your hair. “Says the one falling asleep.” He chuckles when your hand lightly hits him, practically tickling. “Shut up..” You mumble, curling deeper into his arms.
-
Sunday comes sooner than you expected, you made a note to set your alarm so you could get to the Honors Society building early, collecting the papers you need, including Jake Sim’s printed schedule.
You check your phone, smoothing down the front of your sweater and jeans before walking towards the main lobby.
“-Oh yeah, it's beautiful here. So much more different than home.” Your eyes find the sound immediately, the thick Australian accent cutting through your senses.
You observe him from behind, his dark washed jeans, to the white shirt with the words "Brisbane Hockey Championship" on the back. The girl, who you recognize as another student in the Honors Society smiling ear to ear while talking to him.
You walk closer, folder held in your hand. “Jake Sim?” You question, his eyes fall on you, taking you in. And to say this man was handsome was an understatement, he’s straight up gorgeous
“That's me” He smiles boyishly at you, eyes falling to your lips for a split second. Great, a natural flirt too.
“I'm y/n, you’re here for your schedule and tour right?” You ask, tilting your head. “Nice to meet you, y/n” He holds out his hand, you try not to smile at the formal gesture before shaking his, he holds it a second too long before letting go.
“Ill see you around, yeah?” He turns to the girl sitting down, she nods eagerly earning a chuckle from him before he falls into step beside you.
“So, Australia?” You ask, leading him outside the building, the sun beaming down on the campus. He looks down at you, “Accents that strong huh?” He asks playfully, “It’s not everyday we get a transfer from there.” You smile politely, opening the folder in your hand.
You hand him his schedule filled with the courses he chose, mirroring his credits from Australia, “You’re lucky, a lot of those are in the same area” You lean over, pointing. He nods, catching the faint smell of your peach scented shampoo. “Guess it's better we’re doing this on a Sunday then” He smiles, walking beside you.
After finishing the tour early, you and Jake had moved to the Hockey rink, he asked if he could see it since that's where he was going to be playing until he graduated from here.
You were happy to show him, but being you, wanting to fill the silence, accidentally brought up the story about the time you were sitting in this exact spot with your group of friends. It was freshman year before the first game of the season, which also happened to be your birthday.
Sunghoon decided it was the perfect time to surprise you with the rest of the team, unfortunately with a pink birthday stash and tiara, while encouraging everyone in the stands to sing happy birthday to you.
Jake was cheesing ear to ear at the story, you cringing in embarrassment. “Some friends you got yourself” He had said, chuckling. You didn't tell him it was Sunghoon, you don't know why either.
You don't know how long you two have been sitting here, just talking. Jake was the kind of person you could easily get along with, where conversation flowed.
He had nudged your shoulder jokingly calling you “princess” the nickname making a slight blush coat your cheeks, especially said with his accent.
Jake tries to be a respectful guy, he really does. But one thing about him is that he loves women. God– everything about them, so he was excited to come here, not only for hockey but also to see what this university could provide for him, sex wise maybe.
You lean your head back, laughing at something he said, his eyes trail down your neck, to the curve of your breast beneath your sweater before looking at your face again.
His phone goes off in his pocket, he reads the message across his screen from Heeseung saying that he's free to come by and get settled any time today.
You tilt your head as he stands up, helping you off the stands, you two walk next to each other like it's natural, stepping outside into the warm air. You turn to face him.
“In here is pretty much everything you need to know, if you want to change any of your classes, and I'm sure the Hockey schedule is in there too.” You hand it to him, “I'll see you around, Jake.” You smile, he doesn't think before reaching out for your wrist, you pause, facing him again.
“Do you mind if I get your number?” You raise your brow, “-In case I need help or anything, you seem to know a lot about everything.” He lets go of your hand gently
“Yeah, sure.” You hold out your hand and he swipes through his phone, you put your number in and hand it back to him. “If you need anything just send me a text.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, a part of him wishes he did it for you.
“Thanks for the tour, Princess.” You turn around hiding your face as you walk away from him, he shakes his head smirking before going the other way.
-
“I mean she practically broke the fucking hinges off the door.” Jay exaggerates, helping Jake bring his bags upstairs to his new room. “Nah, you’re just dramatic as hell.” Sunghoon chuckles, setting one of Jake's bags beside the bed.
Heeseung leans against the door frame with a smile on his face. “How about the girls in Australia?” Heeseung asks curiously. Jake whistles low “Man, they get fucking crazy over there. This one time this chick and her friends keyed my friends car because he broke it off, brand new too.”
Jay hisses at words, “All I have to say is don't mess with those Gold Coast girls.” The guys make their way down to the living room after Jake said he didn't want to “hold them up”
“Alright rules.” Heeseung says, dragging the other three's attention to him. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “First, try to pick up. Which shouldn't be an issue considering how neatly packed your bags are.”
That earns a chuckle from Jake, “Second, if you’re having a girl over, for the love of God– try not to have her screaming and shit, or eating our food.” He emphasizes the last part, Jay eyes Sunghoon, laughing when he flips him off.
“Third.. Uh– pay rent on time.” Heeseung leans back against the couch proudly. Jake nods after each rule, understanding.
“How about now though? Have you seen anyone who interests you?” Sunghoon asks curiously, observing Jake from the other couch.
“I mean not really–” the image of you flashes in his mind “Actually, the girl who helped me out today with the tour and stuff.” Jake says casually, finger absent mindedly tracing the edge of his phone. “Damn, what's her name?” Jay asks, leaning forward.
“Y/n.” Jake replies, running a hand through his hair. Sunghoon stills at the mention of your name.
Out of all fucking people.
Jake notices the sudden change in the room, “Like y/n l/n?” Jay leans forward just to clarify “Yeah.. you guys know her?”
“Since first year, Sunghoons known her since high school though.” Heeseung says Jake's eyes drift to Sunghoon whose lips are tightened, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Those two have been inseparable ever since, Sunghoons like some little puppy, following her around and shit–” Jay starts with a smirk on his face “I don't follow her around dickhead.”
Jake eyes Sunghoon, silently thinking about the relationship you have with him, “Yeah right, she has you on a leash.” Heeseung chuckles, the boys watch as Sunghoon pulls out his phone. “Fine, she can tell you herself.” Sunghoon sends a message to you, watching as the bubbles appear next to your name.
Sunghoon: Come over
You: Why..
Sunghoon: am I not allowed to hangout with my bestfriend
Sunghoon: we can order in from the korean bbq
You: I'm on the way
Sunghoon holds his phone up, victory gleaming in his eyes, “Great, now tell her to invite her sexy ass friends.” Jay says encouragingly, Sunghoon squints at him “You just did that so she would bring them didn't you.” he asks knowingly.
Jay shrugs, earning a laugh from Heeseung. Sunghoon texts it anyway, you replying with a “Jay asked didn't he.”
“Im gonna unpack some of my stuff before anyone gets here.” Jake says, standing up, the boys nod before focusing back on each other, Sunghoon's eyes linger a bit longer before looking away.
You arrive 15 minutes later, still wearing the same outfit from earlier, your hair tied in a loose ponytail. Sunghoon stands up walking over to you, “Hey–”
“Wheres Jake? Did he move all his stuff in?” You ask curiously, peaking behind Sunghoon's shoulder. He scrunches his nose at that
“What? You’re not excited to see me?” He asks, finger tucking a loose strand of hair from your ponytail behind your ear. “Should I be?” You observe his eyes for a moment
“He's upstairs.” Jay says casually, scrolling through his phone. Sunghoon shoots him a glare, watching as you brush past him.
You see him before he notices you, he's unpacking some clothes out of a box, putting them into his closet. You knock on the door lightly, his face softens when he sees you. “Hey, didn’t know you were so familiar with them.” Jake says, you don't catch the tone beneath it. You lean against his door frame.
“Im surprised they even like spending time with me.” you chuckle lightly, he pauses, setting the hoodie in his hand down facing you.
“Why?” He asks curiously, “You’re fun to be around.” He says casually, his honesty making your heart leap in your chest pathetically.
“I–Thanks” You smile, “You don’t have to stand out there” He says, watching the way you linger by his door. You step in, looking around curiously.
Your eyes landing on a photo in a black frame sitting on the edge of his desk, you inch closer to it, bending down slightly to get a better look. “Are these your friends from Australia?” You ask,
“Mhm.” He replies, you didn't realise how close he got to you, his arm brushes yours as he picks the frame up, you straighten. “Hm, cute.” You smile down at the photo of him smiling with his friends, his eyes never leave your face as you observe the photo “Yeah–”
“What do you want from the Korean BBQ place?” Sunghoon's sharp voice cuts through the moment, if it even was one.
You back away from Jake like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn't. He doesn't miss that. “Uh–the..”
“I know what you want y/n.” He looks at Jake expectantly, “Im fine with Samgyeopsal” Sunghoon nods before his eyes are back on you
“Come on. We’re picking it up.” He says briefly, you walk closer to the door, turning down the hallway, you give Jake a small wave before following after him.
“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks bluntly, you turn to face him “Who? Jake?”
“Yeah, who else.” His grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I literally haven't known the man for more than 24 hours, he’s nice though, and.. Pretty.”
Sunghoon side eyes you for a moment “Pretty?” he spits out, “Yeah.” You reply, leaning your arm on the center console.
“What about me?” The question catches you off guard, you clear your throat. “I mean you have a reputation for being the campus pretty boy, actually your whole friend group does.” You chuckle, he doesn't say anything so you continue
“Yes you’re pretty Sunghoon.” You say smiling, eyes lingering on his side profile.
“Whos prettier then?” Sunghoon asks, he can't believe he's actually asking this right now, but he doesn't care. “You’re ridiculous.” You nudge his shoulder playfully
“Hey, I'm just trying to make sure no one replaces me” He shrugs, “You should know better than anyone, that no one could replace you.” You smile at him all too innocently, the way you say it makes him believe it.
He tries to block out the voice in his head that tells him Jake could be the one to shift that, and he can’t let that happen.
That afternoon was one of those times where you’re happy you didn't plan anything. Your friends mixed with Sunghoon’s all getting along, the discarded Korean BBQ sitting on the table at the center of the living room.
“—Hell no, Lakeview State is ass. I'm betting on a 6-0 score.” Jay says confidently, “I don’t know man, I've been looking at their stats with coach and they cleared Summit Valley last week.” Heeseung says, rubbing his jaw in thought.
Sunghoon sits back down beside you on the couch, arm resting casually behind your shoulders, he hands you a can of soda, “Yeah, yeah, no drinking on school nights.” He rolls his eyes, mocking your words, earning a jab to his ribs.
Your eyes drift to Jake who is now talking to a few of your friends, practically surrounding him like a pack of hyenas closing in on their next meal. “He seems to be doing well” You nod over to Jake, Sunghoon’s eyes follow yours, resisting the urge to pull your face towards his, making you look at no one other than him.
“Yeah.” He replies blandly, fingers twisting the strands at the end of your ponytail casually.
Even when you got home that night, you still tried to make sense of the few minutes spent in Jake's room, then your mind shifted to Sunghoon, the look on his face.
You tell yourself he's just being possessive, which is normal for him since he's always been like that. It's nothing new, right..?
-
“Oh, this is going to be good.” your friend says, watching as the boys from the opposite team stretch on the ice, You look around, shaking your head with a smile at the group of guys behind you, shirtless with the word Crimson painted in red across their chests.
As the boys from your schools team make their way on the ice to warm up, the student section erupts into cheers, The guys saying things like “Lakeview State is fucking cooked.” and the girls practically drooling as the guys start stretching, specifically when they get into the frog pose. (look it up guys trust)
Your eyes land on the brand new #15 Jersey, Jake. As he braces both hands on the ice and rolls his hips, “God he's so hot..” A girl to the other side of you says, someone you don't recognize too well.
“Girl, if he can do that on ice, imagine what he can do in bed.” Her other friend says, you can't help but blush at the statement.
Jake’s all the university has been buzzing about since the beginning of the week. From his sweet personality, to his thick accent, to his absolutely gorgeous face, everyone is obsessed with him.
Rightfully so, I mean just look at him. You unknowingly lick your lips, watching him. His eyes search the crowd mid stretch until they land on you, he gives you that same boyish smile from the day you met him, and you can't help the heat that rises up your neck.
“Omg he totally looked at me? Did you see that?” You try not to roll your eyes at the voice of the girl beside you, “I heard there's a party at Heeseung and them's place tonight.. And he also doesn't have a girlfriend.” Her friend says, you bite down the inside of your cheek, holding yourself back from saying something—
“Hey, you good?” Your friend asks with a concerned look on her face “What–yeah I'm fine.” You chuckle before focusing back on the ice as the boys get into position. Their attention is drawn away as the first period starts and the crowd begins their “oohs” and “ahs”.
To no surprise, Sunghoon scores the first goal of the night, earning slaps on his helmet from his teammates. You laugh at the way he flexes his arms to the student section.
And they were not exaggerating about Jake's skill in this sport. The way he moves on the ice was similar to Sunghoon, but there was something different about it, almost carefree, but also calculated. Which is why he was the second to score a point.
“Jay was not joking about them being terrible..” Your friend says with a yikes expression on her face looking at the other team. You watch as the scoreboard number changes to 4-0 as Heeseung scores a point. “Nah, I think Crimson is just too good.” A guy behind you says.
After waiting for them to finish changing and thankfully showering, you and your friends fall into step with the four boys. Sunghoon throws an arm around your shoulder, his other holding his duffel bag.
“How’d I look out there?” He asks, “How about you ask one of your many admirers." You nod over to the group of girls who giggle when he looks their way. “I'm asking you y/n” He says, stopping at the trunk of his car, opening it to throw his bag in.
“You looked good.” You say casually
“Pretty?” He presses, earning a glare from you.
“You’re so annoying..” He laughs, catching your hand before you walk away. “Are you coming to the party?”
“Yeah actually, Jake–”
“Princess,” Jake calls out, car keys in hand, making his way to you. Sunghoon scoffs,
Princess? Who the fuck is princess?
“Ready?” Jake asks, eyes never leaving yours as you nod. “I’ll see you there m’kay hoon?” You smile, falling into step beside Jake.
Sunghoon stands there in disbelief, partly because you’re not riding with him for the first time in like forever, and he can't help the jealousy that fills his chest knowing you’re going to be in the car alone, with Jake.
The same Jake who can’t keep his eyes off of you, and does anything to get his hands on you.
You take off your sweater, leaving you in a simple black tank top, completely normal to wear especially on a warm night like this. Jake tries not to make it obvious that he's looking at your newly exposed skin.
His fist tightens around the steering wheel when you make a movement to fix your hair, causing your breasts to move, Fuck, he really shouldn’t be thinking these things but he cant stop himself.
He imagines what they would look like all marked up in shades of pink and purple from him licking and biting at them. If he wasn't such a gentleman, he’d go ahead and pull your tank top and bra down just to expose them so he could squeeze them while he drives. His half hard cock throbs at the thought.
“-really good.” you turn to face him, “Huh?” He asks, confused, you chuckle before repeating yourself
“I was saying that you were really good out there, especially for your first game with the team.” You watch his face soften, “Thanks princess, it helps that coach has us working our asses off at practice.” He takes over the wheel with his left hand, placing the other one on the center console.
“I bet, Sunghoon and them always talk about how many repeated reps they have to do.” You let out a small laugh.
He glances over at you when you mention his name, specifically emphasizing him over his other teammates. But he has no right to be jealous, if that's even what he's feeling.. You and Jake are in a good place right now, but it could take one small move to change that, and he’s willing to risk it.
As soon as you walk in you spot Jay yelling over the music “Alright if any of you fuckers throws up in the backyard I swear everyones out!” The crowd growing inside of the house just murmurs and nods, one of the players from the team yelling “Yeah okay– when are the strippers coming?” Jay flips him off, turning back on the music so he doesn't have to hear the way everyone laughs.
Jake lets a smile slip, hand splayed on your waist as he approaches the kitchen, you search for Sunghoon only to find him sitting on the couch, some girl you don't recognize on his lap, his finger casually tracing her thigh.
Did he not see you? How come he didn't invite you in? Maybe you really have gotten used to the princess treatment. You swallow before facing Jake again, only to find him talking to a group of girls who conveniently ended up in the kitchen shortly after.
God you need a drink right now. You look around the counters only to find half empty cans of beer, checking the cardboard box to find none in there as well.
Great, the one time you actually want to drink. Your eyes drift to Sunghoon again, his hand now splayed higher on the girl's thigh, practically brushing along her panties under her dress.
“Princess?” Jake slips a hand around you, splayed on your hip. You hum in response.
He follows your line of sight, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I finished my room if you want to see?” He says, voice low, lips grazing your earlobe.
A shiver goes down your spine, “Is this your way of getting me in your room Jake Sim?” You smile, turning to look up at him. “Is it working?” He asks through a grin, biting his plump lip.
“Maybe.” You tilt your head, observing the mischievous glint in his eyes, along with something else you can't quite name.
You disappear into the crowd with him, moving past the stagger of bodies, and up the stairs.
It smells like him. So much like him, he closes the door behind him, watching you look around. “It's clean.” You note, eyes falling to his made bed, the dark grey sheets and matching pillows.
“Thought it was going to be messy?” he chuckles, watching you look around his space “Have you seen Sunghoons?” you laugh, looking down at his desk, the computer science textbook right in the middle along with a notebook filled with writing.
“You talk about him a lot y’know.” Jake says quietly, you flip through the pages of his textbook mindlessly, “Hm?”
“Sunghoon.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Jealous?” You ask, closing the distance between the two of you, standing directly between his legs. “Should I be?” He trails both hands up to your hips before pulling you down flush against his lap, facing him. You can’t help the gasp of surprise that leaves your mouth.
You rest your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself “You smell so good” He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your peach shampoo.
You let your head fall back slightly, exposing more of your neck. Inching one of your hands up, running it through his soft brown hair. His lips ghost across your neck “Mmm..” You press your hips down harder against him, his half hard cock in his sweatpants hitting the seam of your jeans just right. He groans softly into your neck, lips trailing along your jaw.
You tilt his head up, looking down at his plush pink lips, he wets them subconsciously, you lean down, experimenting, lightly pressing yours against his.
You pull back, wanting to see his reaction. “Don’t stop–” He whispers, desperately chasing your lips again, you moan into his mouth, grinding your hips down. His hands slip lower, cupping your ass through your jeans, holding you down harder, dragging you up and down his clothed cock.
“Jake..” You whimper out when he bites down on your lip, he smirks at the way you say his name. “Sounds pretty when you say it like that” He brings his hand up, cupping your left breast, squeezing through your tank top and bra “Ah– fuck..” You bury your face onto his shoulder to hide your reactions. “Shy now, hm?”
He presses his lips against yours again, tongue begging for entry, you grant it—moaning into his mouth, him trying to savor your taste.
He can’t take it anymore, he tries he really does, but his self control can only go so far. He pulls back for a moment, cupping both of your tits in his strong veiny hands before looking up at you.
You nod, not exactly sure why, but whatever it is has to be good. He licks his lips, trying to contain the drool threatening to pool out with how fucking thirsty he is for this.
He frees your tits from your tank top and bra, biting down on his lip at the sight of how full they are. You would probably feel embarrassed maybe, but with the way he's looking at you right now, you feel adored.
He swipes his thumbs over your nipples, watching the way they pebble beneath the touch. “Cute” He looks up at you before squeezing your breasts together, kneading the soft flesh with his hands, you let out small sounds at the feeling, no one's ever paid this much attention to your chest before.
He buries his nose in between dragging his tongue along the middle before popping one of your nipples in your mouth, sucking on it softly. He groans at the taste of you on his tongue. Practically drinking in every sound you let out.
He moves his mouth to the other side, flicking your wet nipple with his thumb as he sucks harder, drawing all kinds of reactions from your sensitive body. “F-feels good..” You say through a light moan, one hand laced in his hair, the other holding onto his shoulder.
He hums in response. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I've ever seen princess.” he sucks on the skin just above your nipple, leaving a faint mark.
You blush at the compliment, heat rising up your already pink cheeks. “Mm, pussies’ probably even prettier huh?” He breathes out, holding your boobs together, your back arches, hips grinding as he shakes his head, tongue flat on your nipples, alternating sucking them every few seconds while his hands squeeze into the warm flesh–
“Y/n?” You freeze, the familiar voice cutting through your senses. Sunghoon. Jake lets out a sound at the interruption as you stand up, fixing your top to how it somewhat was before Jake decided to devoured you.
“Uh– yeah?” You call out, walking over to Jake's door, trying to ignore the wetness pooled in your underwear. Sunghoon swings the door open, eyes falling on Jake who looks composed as ever leaning on his hands on the bed.
Bulge clear in his pants if you squint, which Sunghoon doesn't need to. His eyes fall on you, the flushed expression on your face, the way your bra strap is twisted, his fingers tighten around the door knob when he notices the reddish mark on your exposed cleavage. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know exactly what was going on before he came in.
“Hee wants us to grab some drinks. People are bitching because there's none left.” Sunghoon says, watching the smug smirk on Jake's face. “Us? Can’t you just go?” You ask, grabbing his arm out of instinct.
Jake's eyes follow the contact, his grin faltering a second. “I need you to help me choose the best stuff.” Sunghoon says, finally looking down at your face. You sigh, slipping back on your shoes “We can—talk again later?” You turn, eyes meeting Jakes.
He nods, offering that sweet boyish smile that has everyone on campus wrapped around his finger. “Im a patient man.” He says, you smile back, Sunghoon looks at Jake one more time before shutting the door harshly.
The ride to the nearest gas station is quiet. The only thing filling the empty silence being the faint music playing from his car speakers.
You turn to look at him for probably the 50th time in the last 10 minutes. His sharp features even more defined with the low street lights. “Are you upset?” You finally ask, the words coming out more choked than intended.
“Do I have a reason to be?” His eyes stay focused on the road when he speaks, “Hoon, answer the question.”
He pulls over, making the car jerk to a stop. “Did you fuck him?” He asks bluntly, his full focus now on you. “W-what–” you’re caught off guard,
“Answer the question y/n.” He says, repeating your words. “Sunghoon-” his eyes drop to the faint red mark on your chest, still fresh from earlier. You don't bother hiding it. “We just..” You breathe out once, “We just kissed.”
“On your tits?” He eyes the mark again, your face flushes at the accusation, the very true one. “Yes.” You whisper, shame creeping in slightly.
“Did you like it?” He asks, catching you off guard again. “You don’t have to lie to me.” He says, more comforting.
You nod, unable to form words in this moment. “And did he make you come?” You look up at him, his completely serious face. “No–” He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “The guy gets you alone like that and can’t even bother to–”
“Well maybe if you didn't interrupt he would have!” you defend yourself and Jake, because you know damn well that man knows how to please a woman.
“Oh, so now I was interrupting you because I wanted to spend time with my friend.” Sunghoon accuses, “Really? You sure this wasn't just to grill me like some– some overprotective boyfriend?” He laughs. He actually fucking laughs in your face.
“That’s actually hilarious– fuck that might’ve been the funniest shit you’ve said all night” You look at him like hes crazy
“Im not even trying to be funny! God—shut up.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Damn, maybe if he actually made you come you wouldn't be acting so pissy right now.” He glances down at the way your arms push up your chest, the roll of your eyes clearly stating you don't know his true intentions.
“Bet your pussy’s all wet from earlier too” He smirks, rolling his bottom lip behind his teeth. This time you scoff, disbelieving.
He continues “Poor baby couldn't get her needy pussy rubbed huh?—Don’t think I forgot about that douche from Senior year who couldn't even get you to come with his fingers.” Sunghoon chuckles.
Your face reddens at the memory, specifically after, when you went to Sunghoon crying because you thought something was wrong with you. You remember him even offering to order some expensive vibrator on amazon just so he could prove to you that you were fine.
“Still use that vibrator I got you for your birthday hm?” It’s stashed away in your bedside drawer, there for when you need some sort of relief. Your silent response is all the answer he needs. “Ah, I see. It wasn't enough was it? Your greedy cunt probably needs some real dick huh, remind me again–when was the last time you got some?”
“Are you trying to make me more mad than I already am?” He rolls his eyes, “Calm down baby, I'm just teasing you like always– Not my fault you can’t take a joke because your pussy’s throbbing for an orgasm.” He says, flicking your shoulder with his finger. “Come on just admit it–”
“Fine! Yes im obviously fucking upset, yes im still wet, and yes it fucking hurts, and its all because you interupted us.” You say, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Ah, there she is.” He watches you closely, “Always so put together, when I know deep down you’re just as fucked up as me.” His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek as he watches your chest rise and fall. “Bet poor Jakey doesn't even know what he got himself into with you.”
Deep down, Jake knows, likes it even.
“I mean, I’d offer to help but you seem pretty stuck on being pissed at me right now.” He shrugs, resting his arm on the center console. “Some sex toys from amazon isnt–” He levels his gaze on you
“I'm not talking about a sex toy y/n.” You look down at his hand on the center console, the way his long, slender fingers casually rub little circles with his middle and ring finger. Your eyes meet his, trying to process what he’s suggesting.
“Y’know, since Jake's not here, and I can tell when any woman is desperate to come.” His eyes drop to the way your thighs clench together, the same way they've been doing this whole time he was reading you like a book.
You bite your lip contemplating in your mind, but from the way your juices pool even more in your underwear, you know your body’s already decided for you. And who are you to say no to your own needs?
“Fuck–” you let out through a whimper, Sunghoon knows hes already got you. Fuck what all his friends said about you having him wrapped around your finger, funny how he’s about to prove them very wrong. He nods at you to continue, you remind yourself this is your best friend, of course he'd offer to help you, that's what friends do!
You move your hands down, unbuttoning your jeans, wincing at how sensitive your skin is, he watches you closely as you pull your jeans down until they're pooled at your ankles.
“Come on, spread ‘em.” he urges, you shift until you’re leaning against the side of the door, distancing your knees from each other. “Holy fuck–” He lets out a breathless chuckle at your desperate state, eyes locked on the wet spot of your panties.
He can't help the way his cock jumps in his jeans, seeing his best friend like this, spread open, pussy dripping for any taste of release. He pulls your legs farther apart, watching the way the damp fabric stretches across your soaked lips.
“He’s missin’ out.” Sunghoon says, hooking his finger around your panties and moving them to the side. You whimper at the feeling of the air nipping your skin.
He licks his lips, the faint street lights illuminating the sheen that coats your inner thighs. “Knew it’d be pretty too.” He swipes his thumb over your aching clit, drawing a gasp from you.
“Hoon– don't tease.” your hand grips the passenger seat to keep yourself grounded. “Why, you’re cute when you're all needy.” He starts with slow circles on your clit, rubbing with his thumb, spreading your leaking arousal everywhere.
“It’s like you fucking pissed yourself” He laughs, bringing two long fingers down to tease the entrance of your desperate hole. You blush at the observation, he notices your embarrassment.
“Dont be shy baby.” He coos, teasing your entrance, the pads of his two fingers circling it. You roll your hips slightly, wanting more. He doesn't like that. His other hand comes up, holding your hip, keeping you in place. “Stop being greedy.” He hisses.
“It hurts Hoon– fuck, I cant..” You breathe out as his thumb flicks your clit again. He slips one of his fingers in your hole, only the first knuckle “You’re so damn tight” He groans at the feeling of your slick walls pulsing
“You don't finger yourself or something?” He chuckles, still joking around even when you’re spread for him like this “Mmm– shut up and keep going..” Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes his finger in deeper, your wetness acting as lubricant for his very long digit.
“Open your eyes.” He watches your face, the way your eyebrows knit together, “Look at how good your pussy takes it” He curls his finger, brushing a sensitive spot inside you that has you bucking your hips, he shifts his other hand to your stomach, holding you down so you can stop moving.
“Feels good Hoon..” You moan out, taking your hand off the seat to grab your boob through your tank top, touching it the same way Jake did. Sunghoon's mouth falls open ever so slightly at the sight.
He gets you used to the rhythm of his finger, pulling it out completely earning a whine from you. Before you can say anything, he shoves two in, curling just right, You reach your hands out gripping his forearm clawing at the hand that's splayed on your stomach. “Hoon!– yeah, I- fuck!” You cry out, his fingers fucking into you faster, His palm hitting your clit with every brutal drag of his fingers.
“Sucking my fingers in so good..” He licks his lips, thrusting his fingers into you harder, the familiar feel of a pussy fluttering around his fingers telling him you’re close.
“Hoon– Im..” You let your head fall back against the car door as he works his fingers so fucking fast. Your grip on his arm falters as your orgasm comes crashing on you, your legs trembling, pussy drooling on his fingers.
“Fuck thats hot.” His pace turns slow, just feeling up your walls, “mhmm..” He chuckles at your state, “Hm? What was that?”
You can't even get a word out with how sensitive you are, not even sure what you’re trying to say. He pulls his fingers out, you whimper at the emptiness, “What?” He moves his hand from your stomach, fixing your underwear and wiping his wet fingers on his jeans.
Your eyebrows knit together, still trying to process what just happened. He sighs, acting annoyed even though he's anything but that. “Put your seatbelt on, still need to get the beer.” He says causally like he didn't just finish absolutely obliterating your pussy with his fingers.
You lift your hips, pulling back on your jeans with trembling hands. You fumble over your seatbelt, feeling his eyes on you.
“God–” He reaches over, doing it for you. You don't know what to do with your hands, settling them in your lap. He looks over at you again, his hand coming up to your face to make you look at him. “You did good baby, okay?” His hand loosely wraps into your hair, he leans down pressing a kiss to your forehead. The action so intimate, you can't help the flutter in your heart..
Sunghoon places the packs of beers on the kitchen counter, “Damn man about time.” Heeseung says, grabbing himself a beer. “Yeah– traffic was really bad.” Sunghoon says, looking down at you with a faint smirk. “Um, yeah everyone was out.” You add, Heeseung just looks at the both of you before shrugging and making his way to the backyard.
Jake watches the interaction, eyes tracking Sunghoon's hand as he rubs small circles on your hip. He watches Sunghoon lean down to whisper something in your ear before grabbing a beer and following Heeseung out back.
Jake walks over to you slipping a hand on your lower back casually to grab himself a drink, you look up at him, smiling innocently.
Yeah fucking right. “Wanna head out there? I know they have a pretty intense game of beer pong going on, and I heard you’re quite the expert with your aim.” Jake says, toying with the hem of your tank top. “Please tell me they didn't mention the story from first year..” You groan when he tries to stifle a laugh.
You follow Jake outside, watching as Sunghoon downs a shot, wrapping his arm around some girls waist. You swallow, not realizing how dry your throat got.
You shake your head before facing Jake's gorgeous face and smiling. “I guess I'll show you how it's done.” you say through a giggle that has his sweatpants feeling even more confined. “Alright, princess.”
Sunghoon doesnt bother to hide his open flirting with multiple girls, Jake on the other hand can’t help it, its like they’re fucking drawn to him and his every movement.
Constantly touching his arms, “Oh Jakey! You’re so good at hockey, let me suck your dick please!” Okay, that's not exactly what they say, but you can see it in their eyes.
You try to ignore the feeling in your chest when you see Sunghoon lead a girl inside and up the stairs. Like always, except the feeling of.. Jealousy? Feels even stronger now.
That night even when he fucked her into his matress he couldnt get you out of his head, the way your little pussy was squeezing his fingers tighter than any of the whores around campus. And he actually managed to not say your name while coming! Unlike last time..
-
You’ve been hanging out with Jake one on one for the past two weeks, at least whenever he would send you a “Let me see you” text, or a “Lets study together”, which would ultimately lead to him holding you on his lap after he finished his assignments, trying to distract you from your own work, rocking his hips against yours until you finally gave him the attention he so desperately wanted.
Jake was a pervert. But that's a part of him no one really sees, unless he wants them to.
So while pretty boy Jake sweet talks his professors, makes everyone laugh in whatever room he steps into, while also perfectly maintaining his social/ academic life, he's sending you pictures..specifically the one you’re looking at right now.
You’ve never been into receiving nudes from anyone, whenever any of your girl friends would show you the new dick pic some random guy sent them you would close your eyes saying something like “I do not want to see that!” Though you understand why it could boost your ego, because a part of you feels..good?
You’re still hovering over the picture he sent 4 minutes ago, grey sweatpants low on his waist, his veiny hand gripping his thick cock, which isn't even fully hard in the photo.
You bite your lip, because why does it feel so good looking at this. You close your legs together, feeling a heat form in your core.
Jake: -Image attachment-
Jake: He misses you, Princess
You: Giving your dick pronouns lol?
You: How bad does he miss me though..
The next message is a video, only 15 seconds long, but you've never clicked open so fast. You sit up straight in your bed, turning up your brightness on your phone in your dark room with it being 10:38 at night.
“Mmm.. fuck–” Jakes voice cuts through your speakers, his dick is fully hard in his sweatpants and hes rubbing it with his hand, a small wet spot forming where his tip is. He gives his dick a squeeze before the video ends.
Jake: What about you?
You can’t help the nervous excitement surging through you as you lift your baggy sleep shirt slightly, your bare chest exposed to the crisp air of your room.
You squeeze them together with one arm, making sure they look good for the camera before angling your phone and snapping a picture. You honestly don't know if it's good or not since you’ve never really been the type to send pictures of yourself like this. Your finger hovers over the send button before clicking it.
“Told you.” Jake turns the phone around, facing it towards Sunghoon whose disbelieving look washes off his face. “Fuck–” He says, standing up and taking the phone from Jake, zooming in on your hard nipples. “Her tits are actually perfect.” He says to himself.
“Something we can agree on.” Jake snatches his phone back. Typing a reply about how perfect you are.
Sunghoon can’t help the need to one up him when he speaks “Too bad it’s not her pussy though. You should’ve seen it the other night— throbbing and shit.” Sunghoon chuckles at the memory, the same one he’s used to jerk off almost every night since.
Jake rolls his eyes, because it should have been his fingers in you that night.
You didn't have to tell him for him to know what happened. It actually was Sunghoon who said something. Practice had ran late last week, Jake and Sunghon being the last ones there.
And out of all the places, he asks in the fucking communal showers. The only thing filling the room was the sound of the water hitting the tile floor, and the steam surrounding them.
“So, did you ever get what you wanted?” Sunghoon asks casually, letting the water soak into his hair, Jake looks over at him for a second before continuing to wash his arms “What are you talking about–” Jake starts “Y/n.”
“What about her.” Jake turns the heat up, the boiling hot water seeping into his skin. “Did you fuck her yet or not?” Sunghoon asks bluntly, expecting an answer.
Jake opens his mouth, then closes it, the words lost. He remembers implying it, but the farthest you let him go was dry humping until you both were nothing but heavy breathing and moaning, you claimed it was because you ‘didn't want any of the guys to walk in’. Or maybe it was one specific guy.
“Hm. Shame, I can tell she’s been craving some dick lately. Guess my fingers weren't enough.” He shrugs, turning off the water and grabbing his towel to wrap around his waist.
Jake pauses for a moment, processing. Before shutting off the water and following him out, wrapping his own towel around him. “I knew you did that shit on purpose– Fuck, you probably just wanted her to yourself huh?” Jake says, watching as Sunghoon opens his locker, grabbing his clothes.
“I think she wants the both of us for herself.” Sunghoon chuckles, peeling off the towel to put on his boxers, not paying any attention to Jake.
“She’s always been a little greedy, plus I know she’s never had any good dick before in her life so it makes sense.” Sunghoon says, putting on the rest of his clothes and running his hand through his wet hair.
“So what do you want with her then?” Jake asks, “I mean, she's my best friend, I was obviously trying to help her.” Sunghoon mutters. “And you think she really wants both of us?” Jake bites his lip in thought, “I know she wants both of us.” He says before throwing his bag over his shoulder and walking out.
And now he’s here, with Sunghoon, seeing just how far you’ll go.
Sunghoon has to admit hes grown to like Jake more, hes actually chill as fuck. The whole pretty boy thing you said is checking out. “Alright you try then.” Jake mumbles, nodding to Sunghoon's phone in his pocket.
“Fine.” He says, pulling his phone out, he clicks on your contact typing up a casual way to approach you so that it's not too obvious what him and Jake are doing.
Hoon: wyd?
“Dude seriously? That's literally code for ‘you're about to receive a dick pic, 3, 2 ,1 go.” Jake eyes his phone.
“Says the one who sent her one.” Sunghoon mumbles, before reading your reply.
You: in bed. trying and failing to fall asleep lol
Hoon: ik what could help you
You: ??
Hoon: sex ;)
Your hand flies to your mouth, slight disbelief on your face at the message, though a part of you isn't really surprised considering he’s always been suggestive like this
You: that's too bad
Hoon: masturbation works just as good
Hoon: how about that vibrator that I know you still use?
Sunghoon leans back in Jake's chair, tongue poking out his teeth as he waits for your reply. You shift on your bed, glancing at your bedside drawer.
Opening it, you pull out the light pink wand Sunghoon bought you back in Senior year. You still can’t believe he's the one who got you your first sex toy.
Seven minutes pass, still no reply. “Not so confident now are you–” Jake starts, but immediately shuts up when he hears your breathy little moans come from Sunghoon's phone.
“No fucking way.” Jake moves to the edge of the bed, Sunghoons eyes are locked on the way you press the vibrator to your clit, before tossing it aside and running two small fingers through your slick, holding them up to the camera and parting them just so he can see how wet you are. His half hard cock twitches at the sight.
“Come on! Let me see–” Jake reaches forward to grab the phone. “Dude– hold on!” Sunghoon grimaces, before moving forward, holding it out so they both can watch. The video isn't long, but it’s fucking hot.
“Fuck, you hear that?” Jake tries to stifle a groan as he rewinds back, The sound of your messy pussy filling the room, Sunghoon palms himself roughly before swiping out of the video.
Hoon: You sound so pretty baby
Hoon: Can I see your face?
You bite down on your lip before fixing your hair in your camera and taking a selfie, “God–look at her.” Sunghoon says, reacting to the photo with a heart.
“Send me all of this right now.” Jake says, reaching to snatch Sunghoons phone in desperation “Send me her titty picture then.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Jake rolls his eyes.
“Im telling her to come over after the game on Friday." He says, laying back down against his pillows.
“Aren’t the guys gonna be here?” Sunghoon stands up, tucking his phone in his pocket. “Nah, Heeseung wanted to go to the club, Jay’s going with him.” Jake's eyes fall to the message from Sunghoon, the video and picture.
He smirks before looking up again, “Are you gonna watch me jerk off or what?” Jake chuckles, watching as Sunghoon walks out, middle finger held up, knowing damn well he's about to go do the same thing.
-
You’ve always had this need to prove you aren't selfish. Constantly putting other people before yourself, at some point it even became a habit.
Maybe that's why this tension between you, Sunghoon, and Jake feels so good. Maybe that's why you feel like you’re thriving off the attention, How almost desperate they seem for you.
The fun part is that nobody knows either, it's just a shared secret between the three of you. Whatever it is you have going on anyway.
That’s what you’re thinking about as you watch them on the ice. Adjusting your camera lens to perfectly capture Sunghoon's side profile as he moves.
Maybe this isn't what you should be focusing on right now, since you were technically given specific instructions to get more photos of the other team members.
You move to shift your camera, but Jake comes into the frame, patting Sunghoon on the shoulder. You see him lean in slightly to say something and both of their eyes shift to you, you immediately put the camera down with an embarrassed look on your face.
Sunghoon says something back, making Jake let out a chuckle before skating back into their starting positions. You tilt your head at the interaction, interesting.
Even with a simple pair of leggings and hoodie you felt slightly exposed, because every time they looked your way, it felt like they could see right through you.
You wait out in the lobby area, going through the pictures you took on your camera–”Y/n?” Heeseung says, Jay a few feet behind him.
“You’re not going out with us tonight?” He questions
“No– I was going to stay in” You shake your head, “Damn, no one wants to Hee.” Jay says, checking his phone.
“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head curiously. “Both Jake and Sunghoon are refusing to go out tonight. Said they were “too tired”.
Jay rolls his eyes. You swallow, clearing your dry throat. “Oh– is Sunghoon in the locker room still?” You look back again, just to see some of the other players walk out.
“Nah, I think he’s in his car, you want us to walk you out or–” Heeseung starts
“No, its okay” You say a little too quickly “You guys have fun!” Heeseung and Jay look at each other as you walk out.
There's no way right? Because you could have sworn Jake said he was the only one not going out so why would Sunghoon be– “Y/n.” you recognize that tone from anywhere.
“Hoon– I thought you were going out with Heeseung and them..” You twist the strap of your camera in between your fingers.
He glances down before looking at your face. “Nah.” He simply says, duffel bag resting on his shoulder. You nod, looking around “I was looking for Jake–”
“He rode with me.” Sunghoon watches your face closely for a reaction, something shifts in your eyes.
“Together?” You question, he nods like it's obvious, like it's totally normal for them. Regardless, you fall into step beside him.
You spot Jake in the passenger seat of Sunghoon's car, he doesn't look up from his phone until the backseat door opens. You move past Sunghoon to get in, but he grabs your waist.
“Not here.” He puts his bag in the seat instead, taking your camera from you and putting it gently beside it. “Where am I supposed to sit then?” he looks down at you, gaze almost—dark, Before opening the passenger side door.
Jake pats his lap twice, signaling exactly what you’re thinking, like you’re some dog to follow orders.
You glance down at his lap, “Go on, there's no room in the backseat anyway.” Sunghoon says, knowing damn well he could have put the bags in the trunk.
Still, you can’t help the heat that surges through your body as you step up and sit on Jake's lap, or more on his thigh. “Good girl.” Sunghoon says before shutting the door and moving to the driver's seat.
Jake rests his hand greedily on your thigh, squeezing ever so slightly. He tries not to whimper at the way your ass spreads on his leg, he can practically feel the heat radiating off of you.
Sunghoon starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot, Thank God his windows are tinted.
“So, how does it feel?” Sunghoon asks, you look over at him, swallowing. “How does what feel?” your voice comes out shakier than intended. Jake can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips.
“Fucking around with the both of us” Sunghoon says casually, as if he was stating the weather.
You shift on Jake's leg, and he squeezes your thigh harder, hand resting dangerously high. “What–Im not-”
“Damn you were right.” Jake scoops your hair in his hand, moving it to one side so he can see your face fully. “She really does pretend to be clueless.”
“Im still a little sad though.” Jake fakes a pout, puppy dog eyes locked on yours, “You sent him your pussy and not me..” He says, looking over at Sunghoon who can’t hide the smirk on his face. “I was–”
“I don’t want excuses, princess. Plus I got to see it anyway.” You feel your face flush an even deeper shade of pink.
“I bet I could have gotten you wetter though.” Jake whispers in your ear, low and filthy. He lifts his leg slightly, pressing harder between your thighs, your small gasp doesn't go unnoticed by the both of them.
“Dont get all shy now baby, remember you were just coming all over my fingers in this exactly spot.” Sunghoon's eyes leave the rode for a moment, he lifts his hand, brushing it across your bottom lip.
You open your mouth on instinct, letting him slide his finger inside, he groans when you close your lips, attempting to suck on it. “Fuck..” Jake's hand moves higher, he pulls your legs farther apart, making sure your clothed pussy lays flat on his thigh.
“This how you suck dick, baby?” Sunghoon coos, pulling his thumb out, wiping it across your cheek before focusing on the road again. You should feel pathetic, used– but instead, you feel adored.
Experimentally you move your hips slightly, both Jake and Sunghoons eyes fall to the movement.
“That desperate huh? Gonna grind on his thigh right in front of me?” Sunghoon asks, watching the movement of your body, Jake settles his hands on your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.
“You like being watched huh?” Jake nips at your neck with his teeth, you bite your lip at the pinch.
“Do you like being greedy, y/n? Being a selfish little slut.” You whimper at the words coming from his mouth, Jake guides your hips on his thigh, pressing you harder against him.
“Use your words princess.” One of his hands comes up, cupping your breast through your hoodie, you arch against him as one of his large hands guides your hips.
“Y-yes..” you whisper out, barely audible. “Fuck thats hot.” Sunghoon's eyes fall to the way your pussy drags on Jake's thigh, then to the way he squeezes your tit, and your face, those sounds—
“Stop.” Sunghoon demands, Jake brings your hips to a stop, “Since she admitted to being selfish, she can wait to cum.” Sunghoon's hand leaves the center console, giving your thigh a squeeze before delivering a slap to it. You let out a high pitched sound, half pain, half pleasure.
“Fine, but I'm not gonna stop touching her.” Jake says, pulling your hoodie up until it rests just above your chest, and yanking your uncomfortably tight sports bra down, you gasp when both of his hands cup your breasts, squeezing roughly.
His eyes are fixated on the soft flesh molding however he likes, your eyes are half lidded as Sunghoon drives down the familiar bumpy road near their house.
“Look at how fucking soft they are–” Jake says, looking at Sunghoon, he licks his lips greedily drinking in the sight of you like this, just fucking taking it.
The embarrassment is long gone, the only thing clouding your mind is lust, and want–even if it is selfish of you..
“Whose cock you gonna’ suck first?” Sunghoon asks a little too sweetly, his firm hand groping your ass as you follow Jake to his room.
“Come on– don’t be all shy now like you haven't been using the both of us for weeks just to please that little pussy.” Sunghoon says, landing a sharp smack on your ass just to watch the way it moves from the impact.
“Nah, I wanna taste her first.” Jake says sitting on the edge of the bed. Sunghoon sits a space away, leaving room for you to be right in the middle.
“Which one do you want, princess?” Jake asks, Australian accent even heavier than before, “I..I don't know” you say, biting your lip, looking at the both of them.
You close your legs tighter together at the way their hungry gaze settles on you. “Mmm..liar.” Sunghoon says, fingers lazily tracing the bottom of your hoodie, he urges it up slightly, a silent question.
You nod and he fully takes it off you, Jake's eyes fall to your confined breasts immediately. “Which one do you want?” Sunghoon asks this time, wrapping your hair into a ponytail around his fist and pulling it back every so slightly, Jake rests his hand on your thigh, his lips grazing the right side of your neck, “Come on..tell us.” He whispers.
Sunghoon traces his sharp tongue along the underside of your jaw, your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of both their mouths on you.
“Both..” you breathe out, Sunghoon smirks against your neck before pulling back. “Knew it.”
Jake presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, laying you on the bed right on his pillows. He leans back for a moment, just to take in the sight of you like this.
Sunghoon watches, palming himself in his sweatpants. Jake looks back once with a devilish smirk on his face before settling between your thighs, wasting no time taking your leggings off.
“Pink—you owe me $20.” Sunghoon says, now fully groping his cock in his sweatpants. You open your mouth to say something–probably tell him off for betting on what kind of underwear you’re wearing, but Jake's mouth latches onto your clothed pussy too fast, licking the soaked through juices. Instead of talking, you let out a moan.
“Fuck, I knew you’d taste heavenly.” Jake purrs, peeling off your panties like they were never there.
He tosses them at Sunghoon who catches them in his hand, he brings them up to his nose, smelling the center. “Smells it too.” He says, practically burying his nose into the fabric.
You spread your legs wider as Jake's lips wrap around your clit, sucking the eager bud into his mouth. Your hands grip at the sheets beneath you, eyes rolling back at the sensation you’ve never felt before. “F-feels so good..” You say through a moan, toes curling so hard you swear your foot could cramp.
“Yeah baby? You like when Jake eats that sweet little cunt?” Sunghoon asks, sitting back down on the bed, this time right beside your head. You nod brainlessly, glassy eyes looking up at him.
Jake slurps at your pussy, tongue flicking over your clit, “I could eat it for hours–” he mumbles into you, you’re hips jerk up at the vibration and Sunghoon laughs at your desperation.
Sunghoon lowers his pants and boxers, his thick, long cock springing out, you swallow at the sight.
He gives it one stroke, two for good measure. “Stick that tongue out f’me.” He says, tip nudging the side of your face. Jake opens his eyes to watch, his tongue still flicking small circles around your clit, the bottom half of his face completely covered in your wetness.
You stick your tongue out flat for him, Sunghoon tilts your face to the side more, tapping his cock on your tongue, pre-cum coating your taste buds.
“She might be more of a cock slut than I thought–” Sunghoon says, eyes falling to Jake between your thighs, Jake chuckles against you, tongue teasing your entrance, earning an open mouthed moan from you.
You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock, “Ah– fuck baby” Sunghoon grunts, hips jerking forward. “Her mouth feels so fucking good” He mutters, pushing himself deeper into the warm column of your throat, trying to fit as much as you can, curling your toes even more, hands digging into the sheets further to stifle your gags.
Jake plunges his tongue inside of your pussy at the same time, nose bumping your clit, you moan around Sunghoons dick and his hand slams against the wall, trying to keep himself from completely breaking down from this.
“Come on– put those hands to good use” He reaches down, yanking your hand from the sheets, making you cup his balls in your hand. “Yeah– just like that” He throws his head back, his hips thrusting into your warm mouth.
Jake curls his tongue deeper inside of you, nearly moaning into your heat at the taste of you, the one he's been thinking about—dreaming about since the day you first let him touch you.
Your other hand lifts from the sheets, tangling in his hair as his tongue nudges that sweet spot inside of you, his nose adding pressure to your clit.
“Fuck–I can’t” Sunghoon pulls out of your mouth, and you whine at the loss of his heavy length so close to you. “I can’t come yet–” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before spreading your legs wider.
“She’s close” Jake pants against you, moving over slightly. You attempt to close your legs again, just to keep Jake's head locked between them but Sunghoon grips your thigh– hard.
“I wanna taste.” Sunghoon says with a shit eating grin before settling next to Jake in between your legs.
You attempt to prop yourself up on your trembling arms just to watch them. “Spread her pussy–” Jake breathes, drool practically leaking from his mouth.
They both use their fingers to spread your folds, entranced with watching the way it desperately pulses with need. “So fuckin’ pretty..” Sunghoon says, pressing a thankful kiss to your inner thigh.
They both dive in at the same time, tongues swirling around your clit, Your mouth hangs open as you watch, small “ah’ sounds leaving your lips as their tongues bump each other.
Fuck thats hot. “Just–yeah.. Fuck!” Your hips buck as Sunghoon shoves his sharp tongue into your sopping hole, Jake’s tongue joining him, He groans at how small the space is, but he doesn't care, not with the juices flooding out of you, and the sounds escaping your lips.
“Suck her clit” Sunghoon mumbles, Jake fixes his attention back on the sensitive bud, shifting to give himself enough room to do so.
“Jake!- oh my fuck.. Hoon–” you cry out, your legs spasming from the build up, “Im gonna come– shit! i cant–” You're a moaning mess when you reach your high, your arms practically giving out as your arch off the bed.
Sunghoons hand flies up holding your legs open as your juices coat both of their faces, they slurp at your pussy greedily, trying to drink in as much as possible, groaning, mouths bumping each other through your heat.
Stars– you swear you see stars, your eyes rolling as their tongues slow, “Think she can squirt?” Jake asks, voice low for Sunghoon to hear.
“Oh, I know she can.” Sunghoon says with a smirk, pulling back. Jake stands up, hands quick to take off his shirt, revealing his toned chest.
Sunghoon settles beside you instead, his hand coming down to run through your pussy, collecting your new juices on his fingers. “Look at that–” He shows Jake, spreading his fingers so he can see the strings of arousal breaking.
“You wanna be a good girl right?” You nod immediately, too fucked out to even respond with words.
Jake chuckles, moving to take off his low hanging sweatpants easily. His hard bulge evidently clear in his boxers, you look down at Sunghoon's leaking cock, still wet from your saliva. He catches your stare “Patience.”
He doesn't warn you before dipping his long fingers into your hole, but its not the same measured way he had done in the car– it’s fucking brutal.
He doesn't set a pace, ramming his fingers in and out of you, palm slapping your clit hard with every thrust. “We wanna see if this little thing can squirt” Sunghoon says, he presses his fist against your bladder, your hands fly out, holding onto his forearm
“She’s close– I can feel it.” Sunghoon says, looking at Jake for a split second. Jake settles between your thighs again, waiting.
“S-shit– Hoon! Im gonna pee..I–” Sunghoon curls his fingers harshly before pulling them out, fist still pressing against your lower stomach as the warm liquid comes flying out, Jake opens his mouth, tongue out as you coat his face in your wetness.
Sunghoon slaps his hand down on your pussy “Come on, give him some more baby,” He grunts, slapping his palm down repeatedly, stimulating you until your whole body is shaking.
You look down at Jake between your thighs, your juices splattered everywhere, on his face, neck, the sheets below you.
And he smiles, actually fucking smiles before running a hand down his face. “Knew it.” Sunghoon says, lightly tapping your clit once before retracting his hand. You whimper at the loss and he tsks,
“I’ll tell you what's gonna happen.” Sunghoon says, standing up. You watch with wide eyes as he lifts his shirt over his head, fully pulling off his pants and boxers, you turn to Jake, eyeing his cock, you don’t even know when he got fully undresses.
But it's big. You knew it was big from those times he’d have you warm him up by sitting on his lap, especially from his pictures and videos. But seeing it like this, flushed, angry, veins mirroring the ones on his hands and forearms, has your pussy begging for more.
“Jakes is gonna stretch that pretty hole open, but he doesn't get to come in you. Not before me anyway.” Jake rolls his eyes at that, cursing himself for making that another perk from the ‘underwear color’ bet.
“You can handle it, right baby?” Sunghoon coos, brushing your hair out of your face gently “Yes, I can.” Jake taps his dick on your pussy, smearing your juices
“I need to see those tits–” Jake urges, Sunghoons hand reaches behind your back, lifting your body slightly to unclasp your sports bra, he tosses it aside, hands flying down to pinch your nipples.
“Fuck you’re perfect” Jake groans, tip just add your entrance, he grips your hips, sliding in with surprising ease with how wet you are from coming, twice. He grips your hips harder at the warmth– the tightness.
Your mouth falls open at the stretch, you can feel every ridge of his cock, your walls fully enveloping him, sucking him in greedily.
“She’s so fucking tight” Jake breathes out, eyebrows knitted together as he rolls his hips slowly, deep inside of you.
You moan at how good it feels to be filled like this, Jake watches closely as he pulls out only to thrust back in slowly, Sunghoon pinches your nipples again, enjoying the look on your face.
“F-faster” You moan out, “See, greedy.” Sunghoon says with a smirk on his face.
“You asked for it princess.” Jake's hands dig into your hips deeper, he pulls out before thrusting in, hard. His hand comes up, grabbing one of your tits in his hand as it bounces with each thrust, the wet sounds filling the room.
His hips snapping against yours, he presses down on your stomach and you gasp, Sunghoon smirks at the visual of his cock moving in and out of you, watching as you fall apart
“Oh fuck– fuck-” Jake pulls out quickly, gripping your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. You cry out at the loss– you were so, so close to coming again, this time all over a cock
“Shh, you’ll get what you want baby.” Sunghoon says, this time he settles in between your legs, “Hm.. turn around.”
“Huh?” You ask, looking up cluelessly, making Jake roll his eyes disbelieving. “Turn the fuck around, all fours.” Sunghoon says, You lift yourself up on weak arms, the new position feeling even more vulnerable, he presses down on your lower back, encouraging your arch.
“There we go..so perfect for us.” You can't help but blush at the praise, He lands a sharp smack on your ass, your body jerks as a red spot blooms, he rubs it with his palm gently.
Jake climbs on the bed, settling right in front of your face, he strokes his cock, watching as your eyes meet his, “I'm gonna use this pretty mouth, is that okay princess?”
You nod, sticking your tongue out, nearly screaming as Sunghoon rams into you with a sharp thrust, His long dick hitting deeply. “Oh fuck!” You yell, reaching out to grasp onto something, you claw at Jake's abs and he can't help but laugh. “So damn cute.”
“Look at this ass–” Sunghoon slaps his palm down hard, just to see the way it reddens. He’s not slow when he fucks into you, hands gripping at your hips, palming your ass as he thrusts into you sharply.
Your mouth hangs open and Jake takes it as a sign, shoving his fat cock into the warmth. He chokes on a moan when your lips suction around him “Fuck you were right–” He pants, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and finding a rhythm of fucking into your mouth.
Sunghoon feels your pussy clamp tight around him, squeezing him relentlessly. You’re moaning around Jake's dick, sending vibrations straight to his tightening balls.
He knows you're close, he knows Jake is too, and he wants it to happen at the same time. “F-fuck..” Sunghoon groans, hips snapping into yours uncontrollably quick, balls slapping against your pussy with every brutal thrust.
You hold on to Jakes thighs as you feel yourself flutter around him, his fingers dig into the soft skin of your ass
“Im gonna come– princess fuck!” Jake moans out, Sunghoon pulls you against him hard, you’re squeezing around him, eyes rolling back as you come on his cock, your juices coating his dick as he shoots his warm come inside of you, painting your insides.
Jake shoves himself deep in your throat, making you swallow every drop he can give. He wipes the tears that managed to escape your eyes before pulling his cock out, Sunghoon flips you over so you’re facing him. “You did so good, baby” He says, rolling his hips once more before inching his cock out slowly, you both wince at the sensitivity.
He watches as his come mixed with yours oozes out of your hole, looking over at Jake. “Next time I'm coming inside of her.” Jake says, holding his phone.
You look at the both of them “Next time?” You ask, voice quiet and rough from Jake fucking your throat.
They look at each other, “You thought this was a one time thing Princess?” Jake asks, genuinely confused.
“I wouldn't be able to forget this if I tried.” Sunghoon says, watching as Jake opens the camera app.
He’s quick to snap a photo of you, capturing your face, the drool and cum on your lips, and the way Sunghoons cum leaks out of your perfect pussy. “Hey you’re not–”
"That's just for us, Princess.” Jake says, typing on his phone, making a group chat with him, Sunghoon, and you.
Sunghoon picks up his shirt from the ground, too lazy to grab a towel, he double checks to make sure Jake got the photo before wiping your pussy gently, you wince at the feeling.
“What should the name be?” Jake turns to Sunghoon, “Let me see—“ you reach up to grab the phone and he gives it to you willingly.
You type out a name for the groupchat and hand it back, they both can't help the smile that coats their faces.
“Sharing is caring.” Sunghoon reads it off, “That's good princess, real good.” Jake smiles leaning down to press a kiss against your lips before laying next to you.
Sunghoon finishes wiping your thighs, settling on the other side of you, fingers twirling your hair like always.
Maybe it's okay to be a little selfish sometimes, especially if this is the outcome.
-
Alright so why arent they both in my bed RN. I also wrote this while ovulating so..
in which jungwon helps you ride him as you struggle to take his thick cock, wiping away your tears while he fucks you stupid ♡ warnings ;; riding , size difference , dacryphilia , 'daddy' , soft dom!won , squirting , overstimulation ❀ — nsfw !!
“you can do it, baby,” jungwon purred in your ear, strong hands guiding your hips as you struggled to ride him.
your thighs were already sore and aching—even with his gentle help, you could barely manage to lift your hips up off of his lap, even after he had showered you in praises for simply sinking all the way down on his cock.
your chest heaved as you tried to slow your breathing, palms planted on his muscular chest to ground yourself. “j-jungwon, i can’t…”
his brow furrowed as he fought to tamp down his aching desire; he needed to help his sweet girl. “baby, relax your body for me.” his hand traveled up the small of your back, running a warm, delicate touch up and down your spine to soothe you.
in an instant, your body melted into his touch as your pussy began to slowly adjust around his cock.
“g-good girl, shit…” he groaned as his eyes remained fixed on where the lips of your cunt wrapped gorgeously around his cock as you slowly lifted your hips. “you did it, baby.” he pulled your body closer to his to give you a sloppy kiss as a reward, slipping his tongue lewdly in between your lips.
you whimpered as you felt his pearly tip pop out from your hole, leaving you with an aching emptiness.
“fuck baby, get it back inside…” jungwon growled, lust briefly clouding his judgment before he suddenly pulled back to look you in the eyes, searching your face with concern. “are you okay? do you think you can take it again?”
your mind reeled back to moments ago, when you tried lowering yourself onto him for the first time and the seemingly neverending stretch that ensued. anxiety began to flutter in your tummy as you avoided his gaze, not wanting to disappoint him.
but he immediately caught on, the perceptive, doting boyfriend that he was, moving to center himself in your view as his brows knit together with worry. “baby, look at me,” he urged, voice low and sweet and trusting. “does it hurt?”
you bit your lip, feeling a strange wave of shame begin to bubble up in your chest. “n-no…” you shook your head, trying to relax your body in preparation to take him.
“then what?” he pouted, looking up at you with round eyes as his thumb stroked soothing circles on your waist. “do you want to stop?”
you shook your head, more defiantly this time. “no, wanna keep going…”
“keep going? yeah?” his hands began to run up your body, landing just underneath your breasts, ensuring you were securely in his hold. “lift your hips, baby.”
you did as he said, pink lips quivering with anticipation as he helped line up his weeping tip with your folds. he was so unbelievably hard from restraining himself from absolutely wrecking you, to the point where it was almost painful.
jungwon observed the way your thighs trembled as you hovered over him. “let me take control, yeah?” he cooed, caressing your body with his warm touch in an effort to soothe you. “take a deep breath and keep your eyes on me, okay?”
you nodded, eyes round and trusting as you allowed him to slowly lower your body onto his thick member. as soon as his tip slipped past your entrance, your lips immediately parted with the overwhelming sensation; and as he continued to push further, you felt hot tears begin to sting at your eyes.
“jungwon,” you whimpered softly, breaths quickening as you struggled to take him. you leaned into his chest, never betraying his eye contact as he continued to guide your body lower and lower.
and neither did he, matching your panicked gaze with a steadfast one as he bit his lip at the feeling of your tight walls finally squeezing around his cock so deliciously. his eyes threatened to roll back from the dizzying pleasure, but he couldn't look away—he needed to be your anchor.
also, if he caught even a single glance of the lewd scene in between your legs, he was almost certain to cum immediately.
“d-don’t cry, baby, shit—” he grunted as you finally reached the base of his cock, causing you to yelp as a stream of crystalline tears spilled from your eyes. he threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as he felt your tight pussy struggle to adjust to the sheer girth of his cock, gummy walls pulsing and squeezing the life out of him. “ahhh, fuck…”
you sniffled, gripping his chest in an attempt to stabilize yourself as you tried to loosen up. your entire body was shaking from the overstimulation. “oh my god… too much, ‘won!” you sobbed.
jungwon was panting heavily now, his quickly thinning restraint on the verge of snapping at the way you peered at him with such an innocent, pure gaze. something possessive brewed inside of him at the way you braced yourself against him so clumsily, sweet tears streaming down your poor cheeks as you cried and cried from simply sitting on his cock.
“i know, i know... it’ll feel better if i move, ‘kay?” his voice trembled as he focused on trying not to instantly spill inside of you. he pulled you in close, kissing up your neck, your jaw, and finally using his tongue to lap up the salty tears from your cheeks. “don’t cry, sweetheart. you’re doing so good for me.”
as he pouted up at you, a tinge of guilt struck his heart as his desires betrayed his words. seeing you cry so sweetly awakened a feeling inside of him that he had never explored before, a twisted sense of pride in seeing his cock destroy his pretty angel like this.
you used your fists to clumsily swipe away another stream of tears. “i’m sorry…” you whimpered, sniffling as you felt your body finally relax around his length. “y-you can fuck me now, jungwon.”
he hissed lowly at your filthy request and how it contradicted with your fragile emotions. “yeah?” he panted, grip tightening on your waist as he immediately straightened upright. “you sure? i don’t think i can hold back, ‘m so fucking hard right now…can you take it, baby?”
biting your lip and pawing at his chest, you nodded at him with watery eyes.
and that was all he needed.
jungwon let out a pained groan and began to buck his hips up into yours, rippling abs flexing with every intentional thrust. he easily lifted your soft body up and down his cock to match his rapidly quickening pace, marveling at the way your lips greedily sucked him in as he stretched you out further and further.
“ngh, j-jungwon—!” you sobbed, facing whiplash from the feverish pace he was fucking into you with. as the tip of his leaking cock kissed your cervix, you found your jaw growing slack as fresh tears spilled from your waterline.
he pistoned his hips upwards into you, wiping your wet cheeks as his primal instincts took over. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, ah…” he whimpered pathetically as he fucked you senseless. “tight fucking pussy’s all mine, barely can fit this thick cock inside, fuckkkk…”
this continued on and on, with jungwon growling filthy praises in your ears as he dragged you along for the ride, bouncing you up and down on his dick as your tits jiggled mesmerizingly in front of his face. wet squelches and slaps sounded around the room as you began to leak all around his cock.
“so messy, baby.” he smirked, clearly pleased with the way you were literally melting in a puddle for him. “look at you, taking my dick so well. daddy loosened you up real good, yeah?”
“y-yes, daddy!” you cried, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay as your hips began to take control of your body, rolling at a frantic pace in order to chase the aching feeling building in between your legs.
his lips parted in awe at how desperate and fucked out you were already. “hah, my god… just fucking yourself stupid on my cock, huh? s’that feel good, baby?”
you nodded thoughtlessly, solely focused on grinding harder and harder against his dick as your hips took on a frantic pace. “i’m gonna cum, jungwon,” you whined, the sound of sloppy squelches coming from your bodies slapping together turning your brain to mush. “gonna cum, gonna cum, oh f-fuck—”
your brain went haywire as your entire body convulsed, pussy walls clenching tight around jungwon’s girthy cock as your orgasm finally came to a head. your eyes crossed, tongue lolling out as your hips continued to plap away on his lap on their own accord, fluttering cunt squeezing around his dick as you mindlessly rode out your high as though you were hypnotized.
jungwon, on the other hand, could barely believe the sight in front of him—you, who was sobbing at the mere feeling of his tip prodding your entrance just moments ago, now arching your back and bracing yourself on his thighs as you squirted all over his lap, spraying his skin with your slick.
“oh my god, j-jungwon, ahh—!” you cried, hips stuttering as a final spray gushed from your cunt. you immediately collapsed into his arms, frail body completely spent from the most mind-numbing orgasm you had ever experienced in your life.
“holy fuck,” jungwon breathed in your ear as he held you close in his comforting hold, pressing a soft kiss to your damp temple as he admired how your limp body clutched onto his much stronger frame for dear life. his edged cock throbbed painfully inside your pulsing cunt, desperately begging for release. “b-baby, you did so good for me…
…can i keep fucking you like this?” ♡
requested for my 300 follower event! discover the event here ♡
" it's completely normal to like your wife you know? "
vol 8. — after the distressing breakup of your five years long relationship you finally decided to settle down and marry the infamous disciplined family friend and the heir of Lee Corporation. What you did not expect was a shy tall guy who stammered three times while saying one sentence and looked at you with stars in his eyes.
𖧧 ָ࣪ 𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊ arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff
note: don't let the synopsis fool you
ʚĭɞ if you liked this don't forget to check out my other works in library
Your friends expected it. Your parents braced for it. But when your long-term boyfriend of nearly five years packed his bags, left your shared apartment, and walked out of your life with nothing but a muttered apology and a shadow of regret in his voice, you didn’t shed a single tear.
Instead, you stood by the door, fingers curled around your sleeves, heart thudding like a dull drum inside your ribs as you watched him go. The soft click of the latch felt louder than thunder. And yet, the silence that followed was even louder.
That was the worst part.
Not the betrayal. Not the abandonment. Not even the mess of memories he left behind, the cracked photo frame he bought you in second year, the shared playlist you couldn’t bring yourself to delete, the faint scent of his cologne in your closet.
No. The worst part was how quiet you became afterward.
You, who once painted the world with laughter, you, who danced barefoot in the rain and burned cupcakes on purpose just to see how far disaster could stretch, you, who used to fill empty rooms with your presence before even speaking.
You disappeared slowly. Like fog rolling into the ocean.
It took months before you left your childhood room again. You’d returned home after graduation, saying it was temporary. That you needed to "rethink things.” Your parents didn’t push. Not when they saw the dark circles under your eyes or the way you flinched when the phone rang. You still hadn’t told them the full story. You couldn’t. How do you explain to your mother that the man you were ready to marry simply changed his mind? That he said you were “too much” one day and “not enough” the next?
That he left without a proper reason. Just a goodbye.
You had just curled up with a blanket and an old journal when your mother knocked on your door.
“Y/n-ah,” she called softly. “Come downstairs.”
You didn’t move. “Why?”
“There’s someone we want you to meet.”
You let out a quiet sigh. “Not today.”
“It’s important.”
You sat up slowly, fingers tracing the corner of your blanket. “Who is it?”
“Lee Heeseung.”
Your breath caught.
The name felt familiar in a distant, foggy kind of way, like a song you once heard in the background of someone else’s life.
Heeseung. The boy with perfect grades, perfect posture, perfect life. The son of your father’s business friend. You remembered vague stories about him growing up, the golden heir. Always abroad. Always busy.
Why would he be here now?
Before you could ask, your mother added, “Just for a few minutes.” And for some reason, you listened.
You expected a stiff man in a starched shirt, radiating cold ambition and forced smiles. What you didn’t expect was a man standing awkwardly in your living room, holding a mug of tea like it was a fragile artifact, and looking more nervous than you felt.
He turned when you walked in and paused. You saw the subtle shift in his breathing pattern.
His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, time bent around the space between you. You noticed the way his gaze softened, then darted away quickly, almost embarrassed. The tips of his ears flushed faintly pink.
You blinked. Interesting.
He bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.
You gave a polite nod, sitting across from him. “You too.”
You didn’t speak much after that. Your parents carried the conversation, polite chatter about the market, mutual friends, old memories. Heeseung answered like a proper gentleman, straight laced and careful with his words. You watched him more than you listened. There was something oddly... stiff about him. Like he hadn’t been in a room with a stranger in years.
He caught you watching once and looked away quickly, clearing his throat leaving a warmth pooling in your stomach as you directed your eyes at your palms resting on your stomach.
They dropped the bomb after dinner. An Arranged marriage. With Lee Heeseung, the heir and future CEO of Lee Corporation.
“Just think about it,” your father had said, his tone soft, his eyes more so. There was hope in them, but it was cautious, almost tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure whether it deserved to be there. Next to him, your mother looked everywhere but at you. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger as if it were a question she couldn’t answer.
And across from you, Heeseung sat.
Tall. Composed. The collar of his button-down crisp, the sleeves of his dark blazer pushed back just enough to show a silver watch that gleamed under the dining room light.
He didn’t look surprised.
He didn’t look anything.
Only when he spoke did something shift “You don’t have to decide now,” he said gently, voice as even as his expression. “We can meet a few more times. Talk. See if it’s something you’re open to.”
You stared at him.
Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it like he already knew how this story ended. Like he’d already accepted whatever answer you might give, even if it was a no. He didn’t plead. He didn’t push. He wasn’t playing the role of the desperate suitor or the charming stranger trying to win your favor.
If anything, he seemed… resigned.
And you?
You were so damn tired.
Tired of grieving a love that had left you in pieces. Tired of pretending you were still the same girl who once believed in fairytales. Tired of hearing your friends get engaged, move abroad, fall in love again while your life stood still, wrapped in a fog you couldn't shake off.
So you nodded. Not because it made sense. Not because it felt right. But because, in that moment, anything was better than standing still.
The wedding was simple.
Elegant in the way a gentle breeze was elegant, soft, intentional, and fleeting. There were no loud colors, no over-the-top displays of affection, no extravagant celebrations. Just muted tones of white and beige draping every corner of the small private hall. Golden hour light filtered in through sheer curtains, making everything seem like a daydream. A few strings of fairy lights hung above your heads like stars that had descended for just this moment. The music was soft, almost distant, like a memory trying not to disturb anyone.
Only family and a few close friends were invited. That was the way you both preferred it — quiet, contained. No crowd to force a smile in front of. No strangers to pretend for.
You stood at the entrance, your hand gently clutching the silk of your ivory dress. It clung to your frame delicately, elegant in its simplicity. Your hair was pulled back, and gold earrings brushed against your neck every time you moved. They had once belonged to your mother.
And across the aisle, waiting....was him.
Heeseung.
He wore a slate grey suit that fit him too well, paired with a navy tie that brought out the deeper shades in his usually unreadable eyes. His posture was rigid, but not from arrogance. From nerves. His fingers twitched at his sides. His lips parted slightly when he saw you.
And he didn’t stop staring.
You walked toward him slowly, trying to ignore the way your heart thudded against your chest like it didn’t remember this wasn’t a love marriage. This wasn’t the fairytale. It was an arrangement. Something practical.
But then why did he look at you like that?
As though something about you had caught him off guard.
His gaze didn’t lower or flicker away, even when you stood right before him. Even when the officiant cleared his throat and began the short ceremonial script. Even when you reached out your hand. His hand met yours with a tremble.
Just a flicker. Barely there. But you felt it. Both of you felt it actually.
When the rings were exchanged and the final blessing was offered, the photographer gestured gently, asking for a hug for the photos. A staged embrace, a brief moment of closeness for the sake of memory.
You hesitated, and so did he. But you stepped forward anyway, lifting your arms with quiet grace and sliding them around his waist. His body stiffened instantly under your touch, like he hadn’t prepared himself to be held. Like he didn’t think you would do it.
But then slowly you felt him breathe. His shoulders softened.
His arms came up, unsure, before settling loosely around your back. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t passionate. But it wasn’t cold either. It felt… human. And when you pulled away, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you saw it.
The faintest blush spreading softly across his cheekbones, like the sun peeking over the edge of dawn.
You bit your lip, amused. A giggle slipped out before you could stop it. It was light, airy, and very real. The kind of laugh you hadn’t heard from yourself in a long time. Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting it. But then, something shifted in his expression. Not quite a smile but something close. His lips twitched at the corners, and he looked down, embarrassed.
You didn’t know why, but your chest warmed.
The first night in your shared apartment was quiet. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. A silence that allowed space to exist between two people without demanding they fill it. You both stood in the living room for a moment, bags still at your feet, before silently choosing opposite doors. You unpacked in your rooms. No drama. No awkward hovering.
Well you didn’t expect to be comfortable anytime soon.
But it wasn’t as strange as you thought it would be.
Heeseung knocked softly after a while, standing at your doorway like he didn’t want to intrude. “Are you hungry?” he asked, voice tentative.
“I was thinking of making something,” you replied, brushing off your hands from folding clothes. “Do you want to help?”
He seemed surprised. “I—I mean, I can. If you don’t mind.”
You didn’t.
So you both ended up in the kitchen.
It wasn’t big, but it was clean. Minimalist, like the rest of the apartment. The kind of space that hadn’t yet been lived in. You gave him the task of slicing the vegetables while you heated the oil. It was an ordinary moment. Too ordinary. But he tried his best to keep up. He worked in silence, furrowed brow, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.
And then
“Ow.”
You turned immediately. “What happened?” He lifted his thumb sheepishly, where a thin line of red had appeared. “It’s not bad.”
A spurge of panick rose as you stammered to find anything you can, fortunately heeseung had his emergency bix ready for moments like this. You grabbed a tissue and dabbed it with alcohol immediately, clicking your tongue. “You’re hopeless,” you muttered, gently pressing it to the cut.
He winced.
“You ever held a knife before?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He looked genuinely guilty. “Not often.”
That made you laugh almost. The corners of your mouth twitched, but you suppressed it. Barely.
Dinner turned out decent. Slightly over-salted, but edible. You both sat at the table across from each other, clinking spoons occasionally. Heeseung ate slowly, carefully, complimenting the food like he was afraid of insulting you otherwise. When the dishes were cleared and the clock ticked past ten, you curled up on the living room couch with a light blanket, journal in your lap. Random dates, random events, random thoughts. Writing helped. It always had. It made you feel like your thoughts were being listened to.
Heeseung settled into the chair across from you, laptop open, fingers dancing over the keyboard. A pair of glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, making him look softer, more academic than corporate. His brows furrowed again as he read something on the screen. You watched him for a moment. The way he adjusted his posture every few minutes. The way he chewed the inside of his cheek when something didn’t make sense. The way he pushed his glasses up with his knuckle.
He was handsome, yes. Way too much handsome from what you've seen till now.
But he was also strange.
Like a puzzle you didn’t know you were supposed to solve. You tore your gaze away and focused back on your journal until the question slipped out of your mouth.
“You always this serious?”
Heeseung paused mid keystroke. His eyes slowly flicked toward you, clearly startled. “Huh?” You leaned back, head tilting playfully. “Or are you just pretending to impress your very pretty wife?”
A beat of silence.
Then he blinked.
And blinked again.
His face flushed. Not pink. Red. An unmistakable crimson that painted his ears, cheeks, even the base of his neck.
You watched it spread with fascination.
He looked away quickly, clearly flustered. “I, uh—I’m not pretending.”
You grinned, unable to help it. Gotcha
And then you laughed. Finally
Not the soft, polite kind. But a laugh that shook your shoulders. A laugh that sounded far too much like your old self. One that tasted like freedom. Like lightness.
Heeseung stared at you wide eyed, confused, but not unhappy. And in that moment, something inside you cracked open.
Not completely.
But enough to let a little light in.
Enough to remember that this whatever this was didn’t have to be cold or lonely. Maybe it could be… different.
Maybe. Just maybe.
After dinner you followed him, heart awkward in your chest. “We’re married,” you said quietly.
He looked at you. Eyes crinkling a bit “We are.”
You bit your lip. “How does it feel?”
“Like I’m going to pass out.”
You laughed. So did he. And just like that, the room warmed.
You both fell asleep that night, not in each other’s arms, but in the same room. Two souls still cautious. But not strangers anymore. Somewhere between the silk sheets and the soft rustling of fabric, you felt his fingers brush yours again. This time, neither of you pulled away.
The days that followed weren’t perfect but they were real. You cooked breakfast. He cleaned the dishes. You danced alone in the living room. He watched, pretending not to smile.
You fought over the last slice of toast but he shared it anyway.
One evening, he returned early and found you on the balcony, feet up, journal in hand.
He stood there, watching you, quiet.
You glanced over. “You know, for someone who likes his space, you hover a lot.” He gave a small smile. “You’re easy to hover around.” Your heart thumped against chest your walls as you closed the journal.
Heeseung walked closer, placing a cup of tea beside you.
You turned to him, a silly expression playing on your lips “You know...I do notice how much you blush every time I touch you.”
He froze. “No I don’t.” You raised a brow. “You just did.”
His ears flamed. “I’m—That’s not—You’re very—” pretty. He stopped. “Never mind.”
You giggled. “You’re cute when you malfunction.” He groaned into his hands. “I’m regretting this marriage already.”
You reached over, gently flicking his forehead. “Liar.”
You were quiet. Not shy. Not submissive. Just... still. And Heeseung had thought, Perfect. No dramatics. No chaos. No endless talking that led nowhere. You seemed like someone who wouldn’t get in the way of his routine. Obedient. Low-maintenance. Easy to manage.
But stillness, he would later learn, was not the same as simplicity.
You weren’t “easy” in the way he first assumed. You were surviving. He just didn’t see it yet.
The first time you touched him, it was nothing. Really, it was nothing. Just a brief adjustment to the collar of his shirt before a family photo. The fabric was crooked, and you, dutiful, distant, fixed it with all the care of someone folding a stranger’s laundry.
But his throat closed.
And later that night, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he found himself staring at the spot your fingers had grazed. Like it had left a burn.
Heeseung loved that. He loved that he was starting to notice things.
The way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were nervous. The way your voice softened when talking to plants, like they were old friends. The way your eyes darted around the room when you were overwhelmed but trying not to show it. He hated how easily his heartbeat betrayed him.
Once, you fell asleep on the couch wearing his hoodie. He had walked into the room to ask if you wanted tea. Stopped. Stared.
And nearly had a cardiac arrest.
You looked smaller somehow, curled into the armrest, face turned into the fabric that used to smell like him. The hoodie dwarfed you, sleeves swallowed your hands, and you breathed so softly he thought you might disappear if he blinked.
He didn’t touch you. Didn’t dare. Just stood there and watched you sleep like an idiot, pretending it meant nothing that you’d chosen his hoodie over the dozens in your wardrobe. He told himself it was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Because one evening, you hummed while watering the plants near the window, barefoot in your pajamas, and something twisted painfully in his chest.
You looked… light.
Like whatever darkness you were dragging around had loosened for a second.
And he thought, She still has it. That light. It’s just buried.
But then someone flirted with you at a company party. Some friend of a friend with too many teeth and not enough respect. The guy leaned in too close when he spoke to you, smiling like he knew you, fingers brushing your elbow as he laughed.
And Heeseung saw red.
He was across the room, drink untouched, shoulders tense. The man’s hand hovered near your lower back, and Heeseung didn’t even remember moving, just that he was suddenly there, standing beside you, one hand on your waist, his tone calm but sharp enough to bleed.
“She’s taken.”
The man backed off. Quickly. You glanced up at him, startled. “I was handling it.” But inside you were going absolute nuts. THAT WAS SO FUCKING HOT WTF.
“I know,” he said, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t like watching.”
You fell in love with Lee Heeseung. You weren’t sure if it was real, if your brain was just weaving comfort into romance. But the way he looked at you made you feel real. Grounded. Heeseung didn’t flirt. He didn’t chase. But he remembered. He remembered the one time you said you hated sleeping with the door closed. He remembered your favourite scent was lavender, not rose like everyone assumed.
He remembered the time you offhandedly said you always wanted to stargaze, but no one ever took you.
And he remembered you. Even on the days when you couldn’t remember you.
You sat at the breakfast table, spooning cereal into your mouth, pretending not to notice how Heeseung kept glancing at you over the rim of his coffee mug. You were wearing his hoodie, not for sentiment, but because it was soft and smelled like cedarwood and something vaguely comforting.
He cleared his throat. Loudly.
You blinked at him. “Yes?”
He tensed. “What? Nothing.”
“You’ve been staring for five minutes.”
“I wasn’t—” He cut himself off. “You just have milk on your lip.”
You wiped your mouth while giggling “That’s your excuse today?”
He went red. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m imagining you blushing every time I breathe?"
He said nothing. Just took a long, slow sip of his coffee and looked away. You leaned your chin on your hand. “It’s okay, you know.”
“What is?”
“Liking your wife.”
He choked on his coffee. You handed him a napkin, laughing, and Heeseung groaned into his palm. “Why are you like this?”
You smiled. “Because you like it," and god.... poor Heeseung swore if his gorgeous wife doesn't stop terrorising him anytime soon.
The day began like any other. Soft sunlight filtered through the lace curtains as you flipped the page of your journal, pen poised above the paper. A list of dates stared back at you. Appointments, grocery items, a friend’s birthday next week. There were tiny corrections in the margins, crossed out reminders, swapped days and scribbles you didn’t remember making.
You blinked at them, brow furrowed.
You always kept your journal close. It wasn’t just a habit anymore, it was a lifeline. Your memory had been slipping, barely noticeable at first. A word forgotten. A date misremembered. But lately, the fog had thickened.
You tapped the pen against your palm, trying to recall what you’d written five minutes ago.
“Y/n?” Heeseung’s voice came from the hallway, sleepy and warm. He peeked into the room, his hair tousled from bed. His tie hung loose around his neck. “Did you see my cufflinks?”
You pointed to the dresser. Heeseung stepped in, brushing a kiss over your temple without a second thought. You smiled, heart tugging. His affection had changed. He’d become gentler, softer. He didn’t look at you like he was tolerating a contract anymore, he looked like he was slowly learning how to love.
And you… you were starting to believe in it.
“I’ll make us coffee,” you said, standing a little too fast.
The world tilted sharply and you didn’t even register the fall.
You woke up to beeping machines and Heeseung’s panicked voice floating somewhere near your ear. His hand gripped yours like a lifeline, tight and trembling.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, over and over. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”
Doctors ran tests. Your blood pressure, blood sugar was normal. Heart rate was stable. CT scan was clear. They told you it might’ve been a stress induced fainting spell. Nothing serious.
But it felt serious. You could see it in Heeseung’s eyes. The quiet way he watched you that night, tucking you into bed, fingers ghosting against your forehead. You felt it in your bones too. Something had shifted inside you. And it wasn’t just fatigue.
That night, as you lay beside him in bed, your voice broke the silence “I used to think love was something safe.” He turned his head to you, still half-awake, droopy eyes slowly meeting yours. “But it’s not,” you whispered. “Not always. Sometimes… it just leaves you.”
Heeseung didn’t say anything. But his fingers found yours beneath the covers and squeezed, tender.
“It left me once. Completely. And I’m scared if I ever feel it again, it’ll do the same.”
Your throat closed, you didn’t tell him you were in love with him. But your eyes did. They searched his, trembled with quiet confession, and Heeseung… oh, he was unraveling from the inside. He said nothing. He only gathered you into his arms and held you so tightly, so fiercely, that your breath caught.
And then he kissed your forehead like a promise.
Like he’d never leave.
The warmth didn’t last forever. A shadow crept in slowly, just as your memories began to slip through your fingers like grains of sand.
You fainted again three days later.
This time, it wasn’t dramatic or alarming in the way most people imagined fainting would be. There was no dizziness or shortness of breath. Just silence. Just a quiet, mundane moment, laundry on your lap, socks in your hand, sunlight spilling through the windows like everything was perfectly normal, and then…
Black.
A blink later, you were waking up to the sound of footsteps thundering down the hallway. Heeseung’s voice, frantic and cracking at the edges, shouted something unintelligible into his phone. There was desperation in his tone, something close to begging, and when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was his silhouette pacing like a man unraveling thread by thread.
You groaned faintly, and the sound jolted him. “Y/n!” The phone clattered to the floor as he dropped beside you, his knees hitting the hardwood. His hands hovered over your shoulders, afraid to shake you too hard, afraid to touch you too softly.
You tried to speak, but only a croaky sound came out.
“Jesus, don’t do that again,” he breathed, brushing a stray hair away from your face with trembling fingers. “You scared the hell out of me.” You blinked at him, mind still foggy, body weak. And then perhaps to deflect the weight in his gaze, perhaps to avoid your own rising dread, you smiled faintly and said,
“Maybe I’m pregnant.”
The words hung in the air like they didn’t belong there. Heeseung stilled.
“Preg—what?!”
You blinked again, suddenly aware of what you’d just said. “I was joking—obviously—I mean, we haven’t even—oh my god—”
His entire face flushed crimson. He scrambled upright, running a hand through his hair like the heat on his cheeks could be shaken off. “Why would you even say that?!”
“I don’t know!” you blurted, still breathless. “I was just—I don’t know—it slipped out!”
“I—okay, well—” He turned away for a second, then turned back just as fast, blurting out, “Would you… want to?”
Silence.
You blinked again, a faint blush creeping on your cheeks this time “What?” you asked softly. He cleared his throat, swallowed, tried again. “I mean not now—not like this, I just–if we ever did...you know like if we were ready—would you want to have a kid with me?”
You just stared at him. Eyes round, heart skipping, stare that peeled you open from the inside and left every thought exposed.
He panicked. “Shit–I didn’t mean it like that. I just–God, I sound like a lunatic. I’m sorry—”
“No,” you interrupted, and your voice, though small, was steady now. “You don’t.”
Heeseung’s breath caught.
You reached forward, hand brushing over his where it hung awkwardly by his side. Slowly, you entwined your fingers, tugging gently until he let himself sit beside you on the couch. He didn’t speak, neither did you.
The silence felt soft this time, tender, warm in its own way.
“I see a future,” you murmured. “And you’re in it.”
He inhaled sharply, chest rising like he’d just been given permission to breathe again. His hand tightened around yours instinctively, and then without another word he pulled you into him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his around your waist. He held you like you were something fragile and precious. His chin dropped to your shoulder, and you felt his lips press into the crook of your neck, featherlight. Then the top of your head. Then again and again.
The crown of your skull. Your temple. Your hair. Tiny kisses, barely there, like he couldn’t help himself.
His hands moved up and down your back, long strokes, slow and careful like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. Like he wanted to trace your shape into his memory forever. You leaned into him, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, listening to the way his heart thudded so loud it echoed through his chest.
“Heeseung,” you whispered.
“Hmm?”
“You don’t have to be scared.”
He said nothing for a long moment. Then, softly, “You’re the only thing I’m scared of losing.” That’s when you knew...he meant it. Every trembling, terrifying word. It wasn’t just affection. It wasn’t just comfort. He loved you. Quietly, desperately, in the way only someone who’s afraid of not being enough ever could.
But you couldn’t say it back.
Because something in your chest twisted whenever the words reached your throat. You wanted to. God, you did. But how could you, when a part of you knew you might forget the weight of those words one day?
So instead, you just pulled him closer.
Let his warmth anchor you. Let your silence be love. And he accepted it like it was all he needed.
For now.
You weren’t supposed to forget things like this.
It started with little slips. You misplaced your favorite pen, the one you always kept clipped to your journal. You put milk in the pantry instead of the fridge. Called Heeseung’s PA by the wrong name, twice.
You told yourself it was stress.
But you started writing everything down. Grocery lists. Things to do. Things you’ve done. Just in case. You didn’t tell Heeseung. Not yet. He’d been watching you more carefully lately, even after the hospital said you were fine. Normal vitals. Normal bloodwork. Just a little fainting from low blood sugar, they said.
You smiled at Heeseung when he brought you tea in the mornings. Laughed when he’d forget his tie and you’d fix it for him before he left for the day. Kissed his knuckles goodbye.
And then, at night, when he was asleep next to you, you wrote.
Remember: His coffee is black with half a sugar. He hums when brushing his teeth. He hates losing control. He loves order. But he loves you, even when you’re chaos.
Your handwriting trembled some days.
You couldn’t afford to forget him.
Until something happened which shook your whole world. You were out for a small grocery run, just around the corner of your cozy apartment.That afternoon, the sky had been unusually dull for mid spring, kind of gray that made everything feel quieter. You were reaching for a carton of oat milk when someone said your name.
A voice you hadn’t heard in years, soft, hesitant. Drenched in familiarity
“Y/n?”
You froze mid-motion. Hand halfway to the shelf. The fluorescent lights above flickered like they always did in that dingy corner aisle. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
But you did anyway.
Jongseong.
There he stood. Your ex. Five years of history packed into one lean frame and a stupidly familiar jawline, he hadn’t changed much, still wore that same brand of denim, still had his hair pushed back like he hadn’t really tried but somehow looked effortlessly put together. Still had that look in his eyes, like he was constantly on the verge of saying something meaningful. You wished you could’ve walked away, wished your feet moved. But your body betrayed you. You stood rooted, staring at the man who had left you broken on the bathroom floor that night so many years ago.
“Hi,” he said, cautiously, as if testing the waters.
You let out a shaky breathe, recovering. “What the hell are you doing here? ”
His lips curved into that apologetic smile, the one that once made you forgive things you never should have. “Shopping. Just moved back last month.”
Of course he did. A painful silence settled between you, thick like humidity before a storm. You hated how your heart still reacted, a strange, erratic beat that had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with trauma. You glanced down at your cart. Laundry detergent, a bag of oranges, ice cream you knew Heeseung would pretend not to like but eat anyway.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, voice low. “You look…”
“Don’t.”
That shut him up. He nodded, eyes darting around. “I heard you got married.”
You responded by muttering a quiet 'hm' and stepping back. “I—I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said finally, breath hitching. “For how I left. For all of it. I was a coward. I know that now.” You closed your eyes for a second. Let the words wash over you like cold water. They didn’t heal anything. Didn’t change the nights you’d spent alone wondering what you did wrong.
“I don’t need your apology,” you said, quiet but firm.
He took a step forward, then another. You didn’t move. You should have, but it was too late. He pulled you into a hug before you could protest. His arms wrapped around you like old muscle memory. You felt nothing.
No heat. No pain. Just a dull ache — like pressing on a bruise that had already begun to fade.
You let it happen.
Maybe out of shock. Maybe because you needed to feel nothing for a moment. Then you pushed him back.
“Don’t do that,” you said, voice sharp.“I just—” He looked desperate now. “I miss you, Y/N.”
“I don’t.”
He recoiled like you’d struck him. And maybe you had.
Your hands were still trembling when you stepped out of the grocery store. The air outside was thick with city noise, buses hissing past, horns blaring somewhere in the distance but everything around you felt strangely muted. As if the world had taken a step back, blurred its edges, dulled its colors.
He had touched you.
He had hugged you.
And you had frozen. Stiff, shocked, disgusted. You didn’t even know what scared you more, the fact that he dared to wrap his arms around you, or the fact that, for a split second, you didn’t pull away fast enough. You could still feel the ghost of that hug clinging to your skin like grease. You wiped your arms with your sleeves again and again as you walked, as if scrubbing the moment off could make it disappear.
It didn't.
Halfway back to your apartment, your vision started to blur. The world tilted to one side. Your legs stumbled, heart racing in your chest, a noise ringing faintly in your ears.
And then nothing.
You woke up under hospital lights, too white, too sharp, sterile brightness. A cold breeze hummed from the AC. Your wrist had a hospital band. Your head throbbed.
“Miss?” the voice of a young nurse stirred beside you. You nodded.
It was third time in one month. And the last two times you’d brushed it off, too little sleep, maybe low blood sugar, maybe stress. But this time felt different. Your limbs still felt heavy. Your memory hazy. You sat up slowly as the doctor entered, young, calm, and professional, with a clipboard in his hand and a thoughtful expression behind his glasses.
“We ran some tests while you were unconscious. Vitals look stable, but I want to ask a few questions.”
You nodded absently, already reaching for your journal. The leather cover had softened from overuse. You opened it and began jotting something down under the last entry, the date, the name of the hospital, a reminder to track symptoms.
The doctor noticed.
“You carry that with you often?” he asked.
“Always,” you replied, not looking up. “It helps me keep track of things. Sometimes… I forget details. Or what day it is.”
He tilted his head. “How long have you been doing that?”
“For months....more than half a year to be exact...”
“And before that?”
“I....don't remember ” you said simply.
The next ten minutes passed in quiet tension as he asked you a series of questions. Your age, your name, your address.
Easy enough.
Then what day it was, the current year, who the president was.
You fumbled. You knew it. You did. But in that moment, it slipped away like mist through your fingers. You blinked hard, tried again. But your mouth stayed still.
The doctor’s voice was gentle. “Y/N… I’m going to be honest with you. Some of the signs you’re displaying memory lapses, spatial confusion, fainting episodes they’re consistent with early onset Alzheimer’s disease.”
You stared at him. What?
The words didn't make sense. Not at first.
That was something older people got. Grandparents. Not someone in her twenties. Not someone like you.
“That's not possible,” you murmured. “That’s not—people my age don’t get that.”
“It’s rare,” he agreed, “but not impossible. Especially when there’s a genetic predisposition or trauma involved. We’ll need to run more scans, cognitive assessments, but... I’d advise preparing for the possibility.”
The room closed in.
You were still holding your pen. You hadn’t even finished your sentence in the journal “What happens now?” you asked, your voice brittle.
“You be careful,” he said quietly. “You start documenting everything. You let someone close to you know. And… you prepare. Because things might start getting messy from now on.”
You nodded.
You didn’t cry. Not yet. There was a storm going inside you. What happens now? Instead, you turned to your journal and wrote everything down.
Because if your brain was going to fail you…you needed your words to remember.
Heeseung noticed the emotional shift before anything else. You became quieter, guarded again. It reminded him of how you were when he first met you, polite, careful, full of silences that hurt more than shouting.
He didn’t understand why.
You weren’t pulling away physically. You still reached for his hand, still leaned into his chest on the couch. Still smiled at his stupid jokes. But something behind your eyes had dimmed.
Heeseung didn’t press. At first. Then, one afternoon, he caught you staring blankly at the laundry machine. You’d loaded it three times and hadn’t turned it on.
You didn’t even notice him standing behind you until he touched your arm.
“Are you okay?”
You blinked. “Yeah. Just... zoned out.” He didn’t believe you but he nodded anyway. That night, you sat on the balcony with your journal in your lap. The stars were faint, the city always swallowed most of them. Still, you looked up and whispered to yourself
“I hope I remember what the sky looks like.”
Heeseung’s promotion came two weeks later.
CEO.
The letters barely held any weight in your mind, but they meant everything to the company and to him. It was the culmination of years of dedication, late nights, near flawless discipline. He had been groomed for this position since the day he stepped into his father’s office, and now he finally stood at the top. There was a celebration, of course. Lavish, gleaming, all sharp suits and champagne glasses. You were expected to be there, not just as his wife, but as his partner, the quiet, polished figure beside the man of the hour. A photograph for the headlines. A name in the caption.
And so, you helped him get ready.
He stood in front of the mirror while you adjusted the lapels of his charcoal suit, the one you had picked for this night months ago, long before the diagnosis, long before your world started folding in on itself. It had a clean cut, regal structure, and a dark sheen under warm lighting. He looked like a leader. Like someone people would follow.
Like someone who deserved everything good in this life.
You moved closer, fingers brushing over his shoulders as you smoothed down the fabric. Then the tie — a deep navy silk one that complimented his skin. You looped it slowly, methodically, the way you’d done a hundred times before, but today your hands were a little shakier. When you finished tightening the knot, you adjusted the collar, folding it just right.
And then… you met his gaze.
He was looking at you the way he always did when he was proud of something. Eyes full of stars. That small boyish smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. The kind of smile that made your heart ache because he still saw you not the version that was slowly slipping through cracks, but the version that had once walked into his life like a spark.
“You’re really good at this,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Should I be worried? You might have a secret career as a stylist.”
You chuckled weakly “Only for you.”
Heeseung grinned, a hint of pink on his ears as he lowered his head shyly. He had always been like this, confident in the boardroom, decisive in crisis, but hopelessly soft around you. “When are you getting ready?” he asked “I mean, not that I want to rush you, but… should I help you with your dress too?” It was teasing, yes. But the sincerity in his tone turned it fragile. Tender. As if he wanted nothing more than to make you feel cared for.
You couldn't meet his eyes anymore.
Your smile felt forced, stretched across your face like something stitched on. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips quick, light, almost mechanical then pulled back and murmured, “I’ll go change now.”
You walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind you.
Locked it.
The moment you turned around, the first sob escaped before you could stop it. Your back slid against the door, and you dropped to the floor, your knees folding beneath you.
You cried.
Not the loud, guttural cries of heartbreak. These were quieter. More dangerous. Cry that hollowed you out from the inside. The kind that didn’t shake the walls but carved themselves into your ribcage like scratches from within. Because how could you stand beside him tonight? How could you wear a smile and pose for photographs next to someone so perfect, so capable, so destined while you were falling apart in silence?
You didn’t deserve to be in those frames. You didn’t deserve the warmth in his voice or the light in his eyes. Heeseung wasn’t just beautiful, he was good. A man who’d carry the weight of the world and still ask how you were doing. He deserved someone strong. Someone helpful. Someone who would hold his hand and not forget the reason why she loved him.
Not someone who would make his life harder. You pulled your knees to your chest, pressing your forehead against them, biting back the next wave of sobs. Tears soaked through the fabric of your dress before you even realized.
And then came a knock. Gentle, hesitant.
“Y/N?” His voice. Muffled through the door, but heavy with concern. “Are you okay?” You panicked for a moment. Could he hear you crying? Could he feel it through the wood? You scrambled to your feet, wiping your face with trembling hands. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just… changing. I’ll be out in a minute.”
A beat of silence.
“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. You heard his footsteps retreat, but slowly. Like he was still half-listening. You turned to the mirror.
Your eyes were red. Your lips were trembling. Your heart was still fractured in your chest.
But you smiled. You forced it. You fixed your face, did your makeup, washed your cheeks with cold water. You put on your dress, the one he loved and stepped into the role you needed to play tonight.
His wife, His person. And maybe a ticking clock he hadn’t heard yet.
Everyone at the office practically worshipped him that day. Heeseung stood on the stage like he was born for it, tall, composed, every line of his suit sharp, every word he spoke deliberate. The perfect heir, finally crowned. You watched him from the back of the room, fingers loosely threaded in front of your dress, the heels you wore pressing too hard against your ankles. He scanned the crowd with those piercing eyes of his, unreadable as ever, until they landed on yours. His gaze softened. Just a flicker a small, private moment no one else caught.
You smiled. Clapped along with everyone else. Even mouthed a “congratulations” later, when he walked off stage and found you again.
But it ached.
The pride did. The smile. The applause. The knowledge that this moment belonged to him, but not fully to you.
Because you’d seen it all evening.
That woman Heejin, his PA hovering just a little too close. Laughing at his jokes like she’d memorized the rhythm of his humor. Knowing the stats, the reports, the number of interviews scheduled, the name of the board member’s wife who just had a baby. She touched his arm like she had every right. Whispered in his ear and was so dangerously close to adjust his tie like it was second nature.
You told yourself it didn’t matter.
Heeseung was with you throughout the whole event. When he wasn’t being pulled away to speak with department heads or board directors, he returned to your side. He introduced you formally. Called you his wife. Smiled that same smile that always softened at the edges when it was just the two of you. Still, it felt like a storm was swelling beneath the chandeliers.
The whispers began slowly, it curled around your ankles and trailed up your spine like a chill. Faces half turned. Brows raised. Smirks too subtle to name. For a moment you thought you were imagining it.
Until Heejin, heels clicking, ponytail high made her way to Heeseung and whispered something in his ear while holding her phone to his face. His jaw tensed. The sharp intake of his breath wasn’t loud, but you felt it like a slap.
He didn’t say anything. Just handed the phone back, eyes suddenly blank. You took a step forward, concern prickling in your chest, but before you could reach him
Your own phone buzzed.
One notification. Then another. Then another.
You froze as the screen lit up with a forwarded image and a text chain that had clearly been passed from one employee to another.
A picture.
Of you and Jongseong.
Your arms around each other in the middle of a grocery store aisle. His head tilted, mouth close to your ear. The caption was cruel —
"The new CEO’s wife already bored? Guess Heeseung’s cold heart wasn’t enough to keep her warm."
The room spun for a second. You gripped your clutch tighter, your breath lodged in your throat. You remembered that day. Every nauseating second of it. How you’d walked out of the store in shock and disgust that you’d let your ex touch you. How the encounter made your stomach churn. How you’d fainted halfway to your apartment the third time in a month. How you woke up in the hospital, and how that day changed everything for you.
But none of that was in the photo.
Just a snapshot. A second. A cruelly timed frame that looked like you were holding someone you still loved.
You barely made it through the rest of the event.
when you returned home, Heeseung was quiet.
Too quiet.
He removed his tie slowly, hands shaking in the low light of your shared bedroom. You stood by the dresser, unsure whether to speak first. The silence between you throbbed, thick and pulsing like a bruise.
“I didn’t know about the picture,” you breathed out, finally. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
He didn’t look at you. Just nodded. “Okay.” But that okay was hollow. A placeholder. You stepped closer. “I didn’t know someone took it. It wasn’t a… moment. It was nothing. I told him to stay away.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, still not meeting your eyes. “Did you?”
You blinked. “Yes.”
He licked his lips, exhaled. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Do you still love him?”
The question hit you like a punch.
“No,” you said too quickly. His eyes finally lifted to yours. Red rimmed. Vulnerable in a way he rarely showed. “Then why did you look like you did?”
You hesitated. “I didn’t. That photo—”
“No,” he interrupted gently, almost apologetically. “I’m not blaming you. I just… I don’t know how to ask this without sounding like I’m accusing you, but… was I not enough? Am I… not enough for you?” It broke your heart to hear him ask that. To hear that insecurity come from someone who had always seemed so sure of himself so composed, so precise. “You’re more than enough,” you said. “God, Heeseung, you’re everything. That day… I was in shock. I didn’t want him to touch me. I felt disgusted the second he did. And after that— I—" you stopped, more like the words abruptly run out of your brain. What exactly happened after that? You wanted to reach out to your journal but at this moment it felt like a foreign subject in that room.
He stared, breath caught in his throat “after that what?”
You opened your mouth. But nothing came out.
So instead, you reached for him. Sat beside him. Took his hand in yours “I felt like I didn’t deserve you,” you said honestly. “You’re… perfect. And I’m not. I’m going to ruin your life.”
He shook his head, eyes stinging. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” you whispered.“No.” He squeezed your hand. “I’ve ruined every relationship I’ve been in because I’m quiet. Closed off. I tried to do better with you. I tried to laugh more, talk more, open up. I don’t know if that scared you. Maybe I overwhelmed you—”
You didn’t let him finish. You pressed your mouth to his.
Soft at first. Like reassurance. Like apology.
But it didn’t stay soft. Your lips opened. His hands found your waist. Yours slid to the nape of his neck. He pulled you into his lap, clutching you like he didn’t want you to vanish. It was desperate. Heated. His mouth moved against yours with all the frustration and confusion he couldn’t put into words. His tongue tasted of hurt, of longing, of too much and not enough all at once. Your hands explored his jaw, his chest, the familiar planes of his body.
You gasped into his mouth when he gripped your thigh, and he caught the sound with his own lips, like he couldn’t stand to be away from you for even a second.
Clothes shifted. Hands wandered. You both chased each other’s warmth, each other’s breath, each other’s forgiveness. Your bodies tangled, your mouths pressed again and again, as if trying to remember what this meant what you meant.
When it was over, you lay against his chest, both of you breathless.
He held you like you were something breakable. You clutched the fabric of his shirt in your fist like he was your anchor.
Neither of you spoke.
Because sometimes, silence wasn’t emptines.....sometimes it was healing.
You stayed like that until sleep found you, nestled in the wreckage of that night, hearts still beating wildly but at least for now still together.
The next morning, he woke up alone.
Your pillow was cold.
Your phone was gone.
So were you.
Heeseung tore the apartment apart. Every room, every drawer, every closet. He called everyone. Checked hospitals. Airports. Police stations.
Nothing.
It was like you’d never existed.
Except for one thing
Your journal.
You’d hidden it behind the books on the shelf. It fell when he yanked the entire stack down in a frenzy. He opened it with shaking hands. Inside, he found pages pf him. Notes, memories, doodles of his face, stupid jokes, coffee orders, days he looked happiest, days he looked tired, the way he kissed your temple after work, the time he asked if you wanted kids and you couldn’t stop laughing.
But nothing about you.
No fears. No timeline. No diagnosis.
Until the last page.
Your last entry....probably
If you’re reading this, I probably forgot to tell you...I didn’t mean to leave like this. But I was so scared, Heeseung. I’m still scared. Alzheimer’s, That’s what they said. I’ll forget my name. My home. Maybe one day… even you. But I wrote you down so I wouldn’t. Because how could I forget the only place I ever felt safe?
He found the prescriptions next, right in between the pages, crumbled hard truth. His hands were shaking and he dropped the journal.
You weren’t in any of the places that made sense. Not your mother’s. Not your childhood home, the hospital where they gave you that impossible diagnosis, not even that quiet little beachside cafe you loved as a teenager, the one you once told Heeseung you’d run away to if life ever got too loud.
Heeseung checked them all. He didn’t stop looking. His PA begged him to rest and his board of directors hinted at taking a leave. Tabloids started speculating that you had disappeared because of him but that was not enough to make him stop looking for you. He ignored it all.
You were gone.
And all he had left was a journal where you remembered everything about him… but not a single word about yourself.
It destroyed him.
Every scribbled sentence felt like a goodbye in slow motion.
You wrote down his allergies, his favorite tie, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous. You even wrote down the first time he ever said your name like it meant something. But nothing — nothing — about when you first forgot your keys. Or when you got your test results. Or when you decided that loving him meant leaving.
Heeseung knew you did it to protect him.
But he didn’t want protection.
He wanted you.
At nights, Heeseung found himself on the beach. The sky quiet, no stars and too much cloud. Just the sound of waves, soft and endless. He remembered what you said once about wanting to see stars
“I feel like I belong to the sea. It forgets everything and still keeps going.”
He stared at the ocean for a long time. Then whispered, “I won’t forget you. Even if you forget me.”
Back in Seoul, your disappearance became public. Someone leaked the hospital records. Someone else found the journal. It was only a matter of time. Suddenly, the narrative changed. You weren’t the runaway wife anymore.
You were tragically sick. Young. Beautiful. Doomed.
The world grieved you like a ghost while you were still breathing somewhere. Heeseung hated it.
He hated that they mourned your memory while he still clung to your toothbrush. Hated that your name became a headline when it used to be a whisper only he was allowed to say that gently. And through all of it, the noise, the press, the pity he kept looking.
Weeks passed.
The world moved on.
He didn’t.
It was almost six months later when the knock came. A strange, hesitant rhythm, three soft raps, then silence. It wasn’t the knock you get from someone delivering mail or asking for a favor. It was the kind that came burdened with weight. With grief. With something you weren’t ready to hear. Heeseung opened the door, expecting a stranger. And he was though somehow, not entirely.
The man looked about his age. Disheveled, eyes filled with exhaustion and rimless glasses around them, lips trembling like he’d rehearsed this moment too many times only to still not be ready.
“Are you… Heeseung?” he asked, voice rough, tight. Heeseung blinked. “Yes. Can I help you?”
The man swallowed, then took a deep breath like it hurt to say her name. “I’m Jake. I—
I’ve been taking care of Y/N.”
Heeseung didn’t register it at first. But then the words unfurled inside his chest like shrapnel.
“I found her,” Jake continued, “about six months ago. On the street. She had fainted. Hit her head pretty bad.”
Everything around Heeseung went still. His fingers gripped the door tighter.
“You what?”
Jake nodded, frantic now. “I tried to help her. I brought her to the hospital. I wanted to call you—believe me, I did. But she… she begged me not to. Said you’d worry. Said she just needed a moment away.”
Heeseung felt his world turn inside out. “So she’s with you?” Jake’s expression shattered. “Yes...but I can't do this anymore. ” He stepped forward, desperate now. “Please, can I come in?”
They sat in silence for a moment on opposite ends of the couch. Jake’s fingers trembled around the cup of water Heeseung handed him. “I’m sorry,” Jake murmured, voice cracking. “I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know if there’s a right way to explain any of this.”
Heeseung nodded stiffly, not trusting himself to speak. Jake looked down. “She didn’t remember much that day. Just bits and pieces. She kept asking for directions to a bakery that closed years ago. She was mumbling about… socks, a couch, stars. It didn’t make sense at first.” He paused to take a breathe “But there was something about her. Something… delicate. She didn’t want to be seen as fragile, but she was. She had this quiet kind of sadness. Like she was running from her own mind.”
Heeseung’s throat felt like sandpaper.
“I brought her to my place,” Jake continued, wiping his eyes. “It was closer than the hospital. She stayed for a few days. Then… weeks. And I just… let her.”
There was guilt in every syllable.
“I should’ve called you. I know that. But I—she asked me not to. She said she wasn’t ready to go back. That she needed time. And after everything she told me—or tried to tell me—I didn’t want to force her.”
Heeseung finally found his voice, low and raw. “Told you?”
Jake let out a weak laugh. “Pieces. Fragments. She kept scribbling on papers. I read one by accident one night when she forgot where she hid it.” That hit Heeseung in the chest. “She still wrote?”
“Obsessively,” Jake whispered. “Dates. Events. What you wore. The first time you laughed during breakfast. The time you hugged her when she thought no one would.” He looked up at Heeseung with a hollow sort of respect. “She didn’t write about herself. Just you.”
The silence that followed was cruel.
Then Jake broke it, voice cracking open. “I didn’t plan on falling for her. But it happened.”
Heeseung’s fingers curled into fists.
“I think… I think I fell in love the moment she offered to fold my laundry. She said she couldn’t sleep unless the room was organized, so she started arranging things, my books, labeled my kitchen spices.” He gave a humorless laugh. “She even asked me one night what tie I’d be wearing the next day. I told her I was a kindergarten teacher—I don’t wear ties. I don’t even own one.”
Heeseung looked at him, and something inside him twisted.
Jake’s next words came with a crack.
“She said she loved me once. Looked me straight in the eye and said it. But I knew—God, I knew—she didn’t mean me.”
Heeseung's chest ached.
“She looked at me like she loved someone. But there was no warmth in it. No spark. Just muscle memory.” Jake’s hands trembled harder. “Every day, she did things I knew weren’t meant for me. She’d ask me if I remembered the constellation we saw last December. I’ve never gone stargazing with her. She made tea the way you liked it. She even called me 'Seung' once.”
Heeseung felt the blood drain from his face.“I tried to be enough,” Jake whispered. “I told myself if I loved her hard enough, it wouldn’t matter that she was forgetting. That I wasn’t the one she loved. But I’m not strong enough. I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m going crazy.”
His voice finally broke. “She’s still in love with you.”
Heeseung sat frozen, pain slicing through every nerve. Jake covered his face. “I didn’t come here to fight. Or to beg. I came because I can’t hold this anymore. She’s slipping, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to keep her grounded.”
He looked up, red-eyed. “But maybe you do.”
Heeseung didn’t sleep that night. Jake left after an hour. Not because he wanted to, but because he said staying longer would feel like he was asking for permission.
Heeseung wandered back into the old room you used together. It still smelled like you. The scent hadn’t left, even though you had. He sat at your desk and opened one of the drawers.
And there it was.
Your journal. The one with the frayed corner and ink blot on the back. His hands shook as he turned the pages.
February 3rd – Heeseung laughed today. Actually laughed. I think it was because I burnt the toast and blamed the toaster, but I want to believe it’s because he’s starting to feel safe around me.
March 19th – He looked at me like I was someone worth choosing.
May 1st – I told a joke. He didn’t laugh. I think I messed up. I think I’m slipping again. Heeseung, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I wanted to remember. I wanted to stay.
Heeseung pressed the pages to his chest and let himself cry.
Because you didn’t run away. You simply… forgot your way back. And now he had to find you before the memory of him disappeared too.
The storm had passed, but the ruin it left behind still trembled beneath Heeseung’s ribs. The next morning, sunlight spilled pale and cold over his apartment floor, but there was no warmth in it. Just silence. Thick. Suffocating. Jake had left the address on a wrinkled piece of paper, scrawled in shaky handwriting like his hands were trying to outrun guilt. Heeseung held it tight as he stood in front of the door now, frozen not from fear, but something worse.
What if you look at him and see nothing? He didn’t knock. He just stood there for a second. Then another. Then the door opened from the inside. You stood barefoot, hair pulled back loosely, wearing a familiar oversized cardigan. His cardigan.
But the eyes that met his weren’t familiar at all.
You frowned.
“Who are you…” your head tilted, voice uncertain. “Why do you look so sad?”
It wasn’t a joke anymore. It wasn’t teasing. Your voice was too sincere, too puzzled. Heeseung’s heart dropped into a bottomless void.
He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. So he stepped forward and hugged you. He didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. He just pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it nearly broke both of you.
“I missed you,” he whispered, voice trembling against your ear. “I missed you so goddamn much.”
For a beat, you didn’t move. Then your fingers clutched his shirt. And you began to cry.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” you said, voice cracking. “But you… you feel familiar.” He nodded into your shoulder, gripping you like an anchor in a storm.“You’re warm... but so familiar ” you mumbled, cheek pressed against his collarbone now. "Heeseung...why are you sad?”
His tears spilled freely now.
Behind them, Jake watched from the hallway, shoulders stiff, arms crossed, mouth quivering.
When you turned slightly and met Jake's eyes
You blinked. Shifting suddenly,Then asked, “Who are you?”
Silence.
Jake’s lips parted. But no sound came.
A second passed. Then another. He blinked once, twice, swallowed the storm threatening to choke him.
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered.
Heeseung didn’t speak. Didn’t turn.
Jake’s eyes glistened. But he smiled anyway, as if giving you up was the easiest thing he’d ever done. He turned away and went into the other room. A silent retreat.
That night, Heeseung stayed. He didn’t sleep. Neither did you. You curled against him on the couch, wrapped in past like a quilt. He tucked you into his side like he had never lost you. Your hand rested on his chest, fingers twitching every so often like you were trying to remember something with touch alone.
In the silence, you whispered, “I want to go.”
He turned to look at you, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Where?”
You shook your head, confused. “I don’t know. Just… away.”
“Away from what?”
“I don’t know that either,” you said. “But I want to go. With you.” Heeseung kissed your forehead, gently. “Okay.”
Jake woke up to an empty house. No voices. No breathing. No you. He called out once. Twice. Silence answered.
His heart seized.
Then he saw it, on the dining table. A phone. No, not a phone. A voice recorder. The kind Heeseung used sometimes when working through business proposals aloud.
He pressed play. And heard Heeseung’s voice. Soft. Tired. But steady.
“Jake…I know you probably hate me right now. Maybe you should. But I need to say this before I go.
Thank you.
Thank you for finding her when I lost her. For caring for her when I didn’t know how. For loving her in the quiet ways that kept her alive.
I read the journal.
I know now that she didn’t leave because she wanted to forget me. She left because she was scared I’d forget her. Or worse, that I’d watch her forget me. But Jake… she remembers something. Somewhere deep down, in the part of her soul untouched by time or illness or fear...she remembers love.
And I’m going to remind her. Every day. Until the stars go out. I’m taking her away. Just the two of us.
She wanted to go. So I’m taking her where the sky’s clear and quiet. Where the world slows down.
I’m going to show her the stars.”
The recording stopped. Jake stood there for a long, long time. He didn’t cry right away. Instead, he sat down at the kitchen table. Fingers trembling, he reached for the cross that hung from his necklace.
Clutched it. Pressed it to his lips. And closed his eyes.
“Take care of them,” he whispered. “Please.”
And then he cried. For you. For Heeseung. For himself. For the cruel poetry of loving someone who never truly belonged to you.
I have no idea why but this ff hit so close to home it feels like I was one of them; living with the pain of either forgetting, being forgotten or not remembered at all. I don't know, but I felt this way more than I'd have liked to.
@sunishake why do you have to make it hurt this bad🥀
SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.
NOTES: loosely inspired by what’s wrong with secretary kim. there will be irregular updates as this story progresses. thank you for reading! :)
SERIES PLAYLIST
WARNINGS: angst, fluff, and smut (details in each chapter).
MAIN MASTERLIST
please reblog and leave a comment (or two) and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! if I leave you off of it by accident, shoot me an ask and I’ll be sure to add ya.
SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.
NOTES: loosely inspired by what’s wrong with secretary kim. there will be irregular updates as this story progresses. thank you for reading! :)
SERIES PLAYLIST
WARNINGS: angst, fluff, and smut (details in each chapter).
MAIN MASTERLIST
please reblog and leave a comment (or two) and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! if I leave you off of it by accident, shoot me an ask and I’ll be sure to add ya.
