boots! that’s my ego boost!

nanda. 21. she/her. exam-hiatus.

[simjakedly]

AND BABY YOU CAN BE MY AMERICAN HOT, HOT BOY

stay freezing outside if you’re a minor! do not interact with works labelled with mdni. other than that, you’re safe!

LIGHTMODE facetime with korean, american, australian, and japanese boys under the cut

01. sienna (headcanons)

01. constellations on your skin (1.3k) mdni.

02. mark me yours (21.8k) part 2 (19.8k) part 3 (15.1k) mdni.

01. cherry? cherry. (soon)

01. potter stinks! (smau)

02. the summer i got horny (14.8k) mdni.

01. immortal fanboy (smau)

01. wear black again (2.7k) mdni.

01. i’d risk it all for you (soon)

01. wtb wonhee pc please! (smau)

02. love me (k)not (14.8k) mdni.

03. but i'm the jealous type (5k) mdni. (from love me (k)not)

✧ DISCLAIMER

i use face claims only for visuals (not representing real idols)

i do not own any idols, groups, or companies

everything here is fiction

🎀 divider is from @cursed-carmine

✧ COPYRIGHT

do not repost, translate, or lift parts of my writing without permission. reblogs are always appreciated, but please don’t plagiarise ♡

[hyuckzcult]

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE - S.JAEYUN | MASTERLIST

.𖥔 ݁ SYNOPSIS . after getting publicly broken up with because of a misspread rumor, you move away to "heal" and "start over". when you come back after months and see your ex and said person—who spread those rumors about you—getting closer each day, you realize maybe you shouldn't have ever come back. and it definitely doesn't help when your ex starts giving you mixed signals about everything.

PAIRING ex!jake x fem!reader FEATURING aespa ningning, riize shotaro, nct haechan, le sserafim yunjin +enhypen

TAGS smau (+written) ; crack ; university au ; lots of miscommunication ; dumbass jake ; cringey moments ; cliche ; 𝓦 none that I can think of other than suggestive comments?

CHAPTERS

01 ⟶ SHAWTY'S BACK

02 ⟶ THE FUMBLER

03 ⟶ RIKI JACKSON

04 ⟶ CHILD OF DIVORCE

05 ⟶ ACCUSATIONS W/ INSANITY

06 ⟶ COMPANY

07 ⟶ MOMENT OF REALIZATION ✎ 2.5k

mars yaps . WELCOME BACKKKKKK new story yes sir🫡. disclaimer . this is a work of fiction, please don't take this seriously, the characters in this story are not how they are in real life (at least not that we know of).

taglist ⪩. .⪨: if you want to be tagged in the series to be updated every time I post a chapter, leave a comment!

[simjakedly]

i’m so hooked i am #TeamJay

[simjakedly]

nanda’s wips

main masterlist

please refrain from asking me when i’m going to post them…i’m battling with my degree rn!

1. cherry? cherry. - park jongseong

synopsis: jay is everything an alpha should be: respectful, mature, impossibly considerate. unfortunately, the omega he falls for at first sight thinks he’s a performative fraud. determined to prove he’s genuinely a good alpha, jay sets out to win over a man-hater (you!) while trying not to lose his mind over your smile, your sharp tongue, and, regrettably—your very distracting chest. oh goddess of the moon, please show him mercy! he swears he’s not a pervert. a spin-off from love me (k)not universe!

pairing: alpha!jay x omega!female reader

genre(s): omegaverse, rom-com, enemies-to-lovers, smut

nsfw

2. that fuckass skirt - nishimura riki

synopsis: riki hates himself for making you jealous, because now you’re ignoring him while you’re wearing that fuckass skirt that he loves so much. but you already promised to help him with his rut, so you’ll stop sulking…right? a drabble from love me (k)not universe!

pairing: alpha!riki x omega!female reader

genre(s): omegaverse, established relationship, smut

nsfw

3. and that’s how i met your mother - park jongseong

synopsis: after being chased by aggressive geese who want you dead and rescued by a ridiculously handsome young farmer, you come to a conclusion: park jongseong will be your future husband. now all you have to do is convince him, his grandparents, and the rest of the village that you’re right.

pairing: farmer!jay x city girl!female reader

genre(s): rom-com, strangers-to-lovers

sfw

4. i kiss the ground you walk on - park sunghoon

synopsis: loving his younger brother’s fiancée was park sunghoon’s first mistake. refusing to let you go was his second. when the line between devotion and obsession blurs, you soon realise that some people simply don’t believe in fate because they create it.

pairing: ceo!sunghoon x secretary!female reader

genre(s): dark romance, kinda slow-burn, smut

nsfw

NOT OPENING ANY TAGLIST FOR NOW!

[ikuesimsimp]

I can’t get over this screenshot I took from their new ep HES SO BABY 😭😚

[dadasimjaeyun]

how do you get the pretty multi color text 😭 i hope this doesn’t make me look stupid

[simjakedly]

i use websites: stuffbydavid and browserling

disclaimer: you can’t do this on the tumblr app, it must be done on tumblr.com

1. make new draft, write your title then save it

2. go to stuffbydavid and complete the steps. for the colour and gradient you have to know the colour codes.

3. copy the html code at the most bottom

4. go to browserling and paste the html code

5. replace text > copy to clipboard

6. go back to your draft and change the format to HTML

7. paste the html code from ‘i’ until ‘p.sh’ only

8. change the format back to rich text

9. THEN YOU WILL GET ITTTTT HOPE THIS HELPS!!

[simjakedly]

When do u think you'll be able to release the alpha jay fic??jay is my bias and I'm absolutely in love with your other fics, like how do you write like that??!?!😁😁

when i’m able to release myself from uni 😞

+ oh my, thank you for liking my fics! i’m a bit meticulous when it comes to creating plots and characters but a bit careless when it comes to spelling and grammar errors 😁😁😁 if you saw typos in my fics NO YOU DIDNT

[simjakedly]

mark me yours - l.hs

— a spin-off from love me (k)not

main masterlist | part 2 | part 3

synopsis. heeseung loves omegas, but he doesn’t believe in mates—especially fated ones. that kind of destiny is reserved for people like riki and jay. but then he meets you. and the first thing you ask him to do is scent-mark you: an intimate activity shared only between mates. a spin-off from love me (k)not!

pairing. alpha!heeseung x omega!female reader

genre(s). omegaverse, fated mates, strangers-to-lovers, fluff, angst

warnings. slightly suggestive, fated mates-coded, power imbalance, unjust system and society, harassment against omegas (not by heeseung), &team cameo but they're assholes here sorry! i love them though dw, mating mark, scent-marking, heeseung is a dominant alpha, and a bigger asshole i fear, reader is a cheerleader, alpha!jay being our target again (sorry), alpha!riki, alpha!sunghoon, beta!ahn yujin, omega!rei, sunoo is bi, heeseung is also bi, this omegaverse is partly made up by me! but it’s just a tiny portion of it just to keep the plot going, denial, rejection, angst, not beta read we die like injang, please let me know if i missed anything!

word count. 21,280 words

note. please read this before proceeding 🤎 everything here is purely fictional and it has nothing to do with the members as a person outside of this fanfiction 🤎 also idk how cheerleading works so pls bear with me...

In a private booth of a nightclub, a group of long-legged, broad-shouldered alphas huddle around the table, drinks in hands. The air is layered with pheromones and adrenaline, occasionally flashing with neon lights and blurred with thin smoke. 

In the middle of the couch, Heeseung sits leisurely, manspreading with ease. On either side of him, Jay and Riki lean back in a similar posture, each of them engaged in the conversation bouncing between the team.

The team has just won a friendly match against their long-sworn rival, a university from the east, after a frustrating streak of loss for two consecutive tournaments. It wasn’t really a landslide win, considering their competitive skills, but a win is a win. A satisfied smirk curls around Heeseung’s bow-shaped lips, his alpha purring with pride.

Friendly or not, the whiskey surely tastes extra sweet tonight.

“Did you see K’s face just now?” Riki pipes up from his left, still buzzing with adrenaline. Being the last man to score and secure the win for them, it’s obviously hard for Riki to contain his enthusiasm. He’s beaming wide. “I did that. I wiped that smirk off his face, gentlemen!”

The rest of the team roars in reply, infected by Riki’s contagious excitement. Heeseung and Jay wear a fond smile on their lips, clearly delighted to see the younger alpha’s happiness. Glasses clink again as they toast to their win, and to their future wins, and to the sexy, beautiful cheerleading omegas that played a part in keeping their spirits up just now—to which Jay grimaces and Riki rolls his eyes at. Heeseung snorts.

He forgets that he’s friends with a prude and a loyal, claimed alpha.

“Speaking of omegas,” Heeseung tilts his head at Riki when the chatters break into small groups of conversations among the team, leaving him to talk to two of his closest friends. “It’s a surprise to see you here, Ki. Like seeing a four-leaf clover.”

Jay joins in, his signature lopsided grin on display. “I half-expected you to run home to your girlfriend. It’s hard to see you hang out with us at the club now, pup.”

Riki crosses his arms with a dramatic huff. His bottom lip juts out in a pout. In this light, when Riki shows this side of him, free from fake nonchalance and his cool persona, Heeseung sees him ten years younger than his actual age. Riki is so cute.

“I fully expected to run home to her too, hyung. But she forced me to come here. Said something like I should celebrate my win with y’all,” Riki sighs, messing with his newly-dyed hair and tipping his head back. “So here I am. Drinking with you idiots when I could’ve cuddled with my sweet, sweet omega at home.”

Jay feigns offence while Heeseung laughs. The both of them know too well of Riki’s devotion to his girlfriend. Maybe it’s the alpha-omega bond, or just the fact that they’ve known each other practically their whole lives, but Riki is never at ease whenever she’s not around. 

But tonight, the alpha seems more relaxed than usual. He’s not playing with his fingers or toying with the hem of his shirt like he always did when his girlfriend is absent. Heeseung wonders why the sudden change until he catches a glimpse of something at the back of Riki’s neck.

His brows furrow. His movement falters mid-air.

“Riki? Is that…” Heeseung squints his eyes, trying to see better while the tips of Riki’s ears slowly redden. From his right, Heeseung can hear a soft gasp from Jay.

“Holy shit. Is that your mating mark, Ki?”

It is. It is a mating mark, Heeseung realises, when a purple neon light flashes on Riki’s wounded skin. The alpha is rubbing his neck sheepishly now, heat sweeping across his cheeks. Despite his sudden shy demeanour, Heeseung can smell the pride in his sandalwood scent, and in that moment he finally notices the subtle layer of sweet vanilla—Riki’s girlfriend’s scent—in Riki’s pheromones.

“Yeah,” Riki confirms, still red like a tomato. “I mated with her last night.”

“Wow,” Jay breathes out in amazement, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “About time, man! You’re finally mated!”

Jay’s exclamation attracts attention and soon, the whole group is congratulating Riki on the milestone. The said alpha is red down to his neck now, clearly not expecting the sudden shift of focus on him but still relishing in the pride of having his mating mark, if the musky lilt to his pheromones is anything to go by. 

Heeseung remains a quiet observer, watching as Riki pulls down the collar of his shirt to proudly show the mark. Two other alphas join him as they speak fondly of their omegas, relishing in their identical mating mark on their napes. Beside him, Jay listens with an adoring smile. There’s a certain longing in his gaze when he stares at the mated alphas that doesn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung. 

Heeseung averts his eyes away, trying to forget that familiar look on Jay’s face. He almost scoffs at the image.

He knows that look like the back of his hand. 

Jay, too, yearns for a mate. Like Riki. Unlike Heeseung.

Mate. It’s the word that is so common in omegaverse but so foreign in Heeseung’s little world.

If Jay is a walking green flag that effortlessly attracts omegas with his gentleman charms, Heeseung is a running red flag that chases after willing omegas. If Jay stays away from wild sex life, Heeseung lives by it. If Jay dates to marry, Heeseung fucks to breathe. He’s everything Jay’s not that Riki was so bewildered when the two first met him.

Don’t get him wrong—he’s not the creepy kind of chaser. Rather, he likes to call himself the sexy one. It’s not hard for him to pull; just a few flirty comments here and a couple of filthy whispers there and the next hour he’ll have an omega to bring home and under him. 

He doesn’t know if he’s the only one wired this way, but where territorial instincts stream in his alpha blood, his sexual desires run even harder and faster. It’s like an itch that just won’t get away if he doesn’t scratch at it. He’s an attractive alpha with a high sex drive, he admits it, but is he really wrong to accept any omegas with his long, eager arms?

He thinks not.

Plus, they’re omegas. Heeseung tries not to objectify them, but gosh, the scent wafting from them is always so sweet and inviting. They’re curved softly, meant to hold and love the right, physical way that he’s known how to. He’s a weak man, and an even weaker alpha; Heeseung can’t resist a good fuck between two consenting adults and he always, always consents to being sucked off dry and scratched to bleed. 

Fuck, just thinking about it is already making him excited.

Heeseung’s eyes wander, tuning out the conversation about mate as he scans for any attractive omega. It’s starting to bore him—the talk about mate and having a mate and being mated—so he’s entertaining himself with the exposed skin and swaying hips of dancing omegas on the dance floor.

For someone like him that gets off on having sex with omegas and being drunk on their sweet pheromones, mating culture is a big no for him. The idea of being tied to only one omega makes him laugh; it sounds ridiculous to him. He’s an alpha capable of giving and his knot is not limited to only one hole, so why should he settle?

Only hopeless-romantic alphas believe in the belief of fated mates. And unfortunately, two of his friends do. Heeseung mentally rolls his eyes.

He decides that he’s had enough when the mated alphas start talking about having pups; another commitment that makes goosebumps rise in his skin. Wordlessly, he places his shot glass on the table, having sipped only half of it throughout the night. 

“Leaving already?” Jay asks, craning his neck when Heeseung stands. The latter only cocks his head to the dance floor with a knowing look. The corner of his mouth curves into a playful smirk when Jay makes a face.

“The usual.”

Jay shakes his head. “Whatever. Just don’t do it raw.”

“I’m always clean and safe, Jongseong.” Heeseung retorts, already taking his leave. “Call me when you’re leaving.”

Whatever Jay replies is muffled by the loud bass and Heeseung couldn’t care less to know what the alpha has said. Probably throwing him insults for using him as his personal chauffeur again. Heeseung only shrugs. Jay’s not his concern tonight. He has a bigger fish, or rather, a pretty wolf, to catch.

His eyes sweep across the space. From where he’s standing, his nose can pick up different scents of alphas and omegas. Even the faint scent of betas are visible, usually amplified by alcohol and adrenaline. He’s still deciding between two male omegas throwing asses back on the dance floor and a group of female omegas giggling at a table not far from him when a spiked scent stabs at his senses.

His nose instantly scrunches, frowning as he tries to detect that smell. An omega in distress. It’s faint, coming from the direction of the exit door, but he can’t see anyone crying or visibly uncomfortable in his line of sight.

Heeseung looks around, momentarily distracted from his initial mission. Nobody seems to notice the scent, however, and Heeseung blames his dominant traits for this. He sometimes forgets that he’s a dominant alpha. Unlike Jay and Riki, his senses are more sensitive and developed, which is a blessing when he’s looking for a hookup and a curse when he’s inside the locker room after a game when the air is drenched in his teammates’ pheromones. Heeseung shudders at the memories. He’s always the first to shower and leave the room because only Riki smells good when sweating.

His thoughts are brought back when the scent intensifies. Heeseung keeps sniffing and blindly follows the trail of wilting daisies and burnt honey, his shoulders braced and jaw tense. He doesn’t know why, but the scent has awakened his senses to a new degree. His alpha is on full alert now. 

He passes by dancing bodies and tables to get to the exit door but he’s stopped by a hand on his arm. Heeseung looks down.

A soft, seductive voice reaches his ears. “Heeseung-ssi?”

Heeseung blinks at the smiling omega. After a second of stunned silence, he finally recognises the logo on her varsity jacket and the makeup on her face. Realisation dawns upon him.

She’s part of his college’s cheerleader squad.

The omega is running a hand up and down his arm now, arching her back to flaunt the soft swell of her chest. Behind her, her fellow cheerleaders watch closely, hiding eager smiles behind their palms. Heeseung looks down at her hand, gulping despite himself. 

“Spare me a few minutes, will you, my precious, capable alpha?”

Her voice is so enticing, dripping with the kind of allure Heeseung’s so much familiar with. There is a strong wave of her sweet scent—bubblegum and cotton candy, Heeseung notes—coming from her in full force. She’s fluttering her lashes now, hoping he’ll get the message. 

Heeseung does; oh does he get the message so well. He knows what she’s hinting on and on any other nights he’ll succumb to the temptation without putting any efforts to think, melting into a puddle of juices at the slightest touch of seductive omegas. It’s a no-brainer decision for him, usually, because he’s always ready to fuck and he always brings a pack of condom with him for this sole reason.

But tonight his wolf is restless. And the reason is none other than the bitter scent still clinging to his nose.

Heeseung gives a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and removes her hand from his arm. The omega frowns, brows almost uniting at the center when the alpha takes a step back.

“Next time, yeah?”

Without waiting for her reply, Heeseung slips away from the crowd, ignoring the sour turn of her pheromones. He can feel their eyes boring into his back, but that’s not his concern now. Following the haunting scent and the sudden flaring instincts to get closer to the owner of it, Heeseung lets his legs bring him closer to the exit door. 

Heeseung hates to admit it, but right now, his wolf is thrashing at the bitter scent and his chest feels like caving in. He can feel the itch in his nails; his claws are threatening to sharpen. He frowns.

He’s never reacted this way to any omegas in distress. So why now? Why this particular scent?

When he reaches the door, Heeseung doesn’t waste a second to push it open and steps outside. As he does so, a weight suddenly crashes into his chest, pushing him slightly backwards from the force.

“Oof—” 

Heeseung reaches up to steady the figure by the arms. At this sudden proximity, the scent is thicker, the wilting daisies are more prominent it's making his heart constrict. Heeseung lets out a deep exhale and looks down to the person practically in his arms. 

A female omega. Clearly in distress, judging by the unshed tears and the tremble in her lips. A familiar varsity jacket drapes across her frame and Heeseung feels his breath stop when he recognises that face.

It’s you. One of the cheerleaders. Heeseung knows many cheerleaders, having been in bed with most of them; but even the most forgetful alpha will remember an omega like you.

A sweet face with a sweeter scent to match, but you are always detached from alphas and their advances. You’re the shy cheerleader his teammates always talk about. The untouchable one. The politely-smile-and-then-reject omega. Heeseung remembers you too well, being one of those rejected alphas himself.

He still remembers how disappointed his wolf was, whining and pouting when a pretty omega he had his eyes on rejected him. But Heeseung is a respectful alpha. He’ll take a no as a no. And you were also so kind when doing so that he moved on from it pretty fast and well.

That was one year ago.

Now you’re crying in his arms, for whatever reasons he doesn’t know and is determined to find out. He can feel your hold on his arms tighten, the spike in your scent when you recognise him, and the hitch in your breath that follows. The bitter scent is definitely coming from you.

“H-Heeseung?” Your voice is so small, like you’re not sure if you can call his name. It’s shaky and breathless. “Please help me.”

Behind you, Heeseung can see three shadows entering the alleyway. Even from the distance, his nose immediately picks up the pheromones of aroused alphas; thick and unpleasant. Your scent lingers amidst the stench, wavering in fear, so heavy he can practically taste it on his tongue. Heeseung instinctively pulls you closer.

“Are they bothering you?”

You nod frantically, the tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. When you speak, your voice is wet from tears and fear.

Nothing can ever prepare Heeseung for the words that are about to leave your mouth.

“P-Please…Please scent me.” You sob, clutching the sleeves of his T-shirt tighter. Heeseung’s breath stutters. “Please, Heeseung.”

Scent-mark. A low rumble sounds from his chest.

You’re asking him to mark you. To…claim you. It’s basically you asking him to bond with you, to shower you with his pheromones and make you smell like him. Smell like you’re his.

This is not what Heeseung’s looking forward to tonight. The fantasy of saving an omega in distress and scent-marking belongs to Jay, an alpha that was even willing to help an omega in heat out of the goodness of his heart. But not Heeseung. That’s never Heeseung. Heeseung doesn’t play the hero; he’s the one stealing the female lead from them.

Scent-marking is way…too intimate to share between two complete strangers with no interaction—that is, if you consider being rejected to having sex together as zero interaction.

Heeseung looks between you and the shadows closing in, then licks his lips. “I can’t,” he tries, and the broken look on your face damn near makes his heart take the same fate. Heeseung schools his expression, forcing himself to push you slightly away from him.

“I—This is not right. You don’t want this.”

He can’t take advantage of you. This is just your scared omega speaking. Outside of this situation, he’s damn sure you’d refuse any kind of bonds with him. Heeseung might be a sex addict, but he’s not an asshole.

But you pull him with you, shaking your head as you keep taking a glance at the approaching alphas. “I do! Please,” you choke, failing to keep your voice steady as you plead at the alpha in front of you. Heeseung forces restraint to his instincts. “Please just scent-mark me, Heeseung. I-I can’t—They will—” You heave a deep breath, your scent taking a sourer lilt at his refusal.

“They won’t back down unless it’s another alpha.”

Something sharp stabs at his chest, rendering him speechless and frozen for a moment. Heeseung stares at your trembling figure, at your shrinking body as if to make yourself disappear, and it suddenly hits him how disgusting the whole situation is.

They won’t back down unless it’s another alpha.

Alphas only take a no when it comes from another alpha.

Heeseung feels nauseous. His throat closes in and there’s a quiet ringing in his ears. In that heavy, stilled silence, everything is muffled to his senses. Only the echoes of your words ripple in his mind.

Unless it’s another alpha.

It’s a hard pill to swallow; one that Heeseung finds it bitter to believe—because it’s so, so easy to walk away from omegas than force yourself on them. It’s so, so easy to shoot your pride down than dwell on it and go feral over a rejection. It’s so, so easy to respect an omega, even for a fuckboy like him, so why is it hard for other alphas to do so?

And the result of this harsh world, of this fucked up power imbalance is sobbing in his arms, shaking and forcing herself to be okay with an unwanted bond just to save herself. Heeseung’s heart breaks for you, for the fate that follows a beautiful being like you just because of secondary genders and because the world says so.

“Please, I-I don’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Heeseung whispers, rubbing a soothing circle on your arms. Your crying subsides a fraction. “I’ll scent you if that makes you feel better. Is that…okay?”

You blink at him tearily, streaks of salty tears tainting your unblemished cheeks. Even with a swollen face, you still look as pretty as he remembers.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a hold of your wrist when he senses those alphas getting near. “Or we can just get inside and call the cops on them if you change your mind. You can find—”

“No,” you grip him tighter, your previously-calmed scent spiking again. “Cops are useless. T-They won’t—please, Heeseung. You know how they are.”

You know how unfair the system is.

Heeseung swallows hard before he nods, the burnt honey in your pheromones starting to get really thick and sticky. He rubs the inside of your wrists, slow and deliberate, before bringing the scent gland to his nose. It’s the most appropriate point to scent, less intimate than scenting at your neck, which he guesses the last thing you want from him right now.

The tip of his nose caresses the delicate skin tentatively, testing and tasting before he takes a deep inhale. Immediately, the scent of daisies and honey fill up his senses and Heeseung’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling. There is a rush of energy bursting through his veins, his senses tingling and his wolf purring at the sweet combination of your pheromones. Heeseung feels his wolf hum, almost singing and sighing, like his muscles are unknotting in a hot spring. 

It’s strange. It’s new. But Heeseung pushes the thoughts aside.

He runs his nose over your wrist over and over again, blanketing you in his pheromones and starting to feel you relax in his arms.

The tension in your shoulders visibly disappears as you let yourself melt into Heeseung. You sigh. Heeseung’s pheromones are just like him; warm spice of cinnamon carried by cool air of sea breeze. It symbolises his fierce persona on the court and his calm demeanour when he’s out of his jersey perfectly. You lean into him further, your squirming wolf unknowingly calms down when being washed by his pheromones.

If Heeseung notices the change in your demeanour, he doesn’t say anything about it, shoving the thought to the back of his mind. His singular focus is entirely on your pulse, nosing at your wrist and pumping out his calming pheromones. When he opens his eyes, they mirror the look in yours: dazed and slightly glassy. The air is now loaded with daisies and cinnamon, intertwining with each other in a perfect, balanced mix of scent. 

Heeseung tries to ignore the loud pounding of his heart, but it’s all he can hear. He tries to ignore the stars in your eyes, but it’s all he can see. He tries to ignore how perfectly balanced the mix of your scent is with his. His grip on your wrist tightens, breath caught in his throat. His wolf refuses to let you go, wanting to keep you here, tucked safely in his embrace for as long as he can.

And that thought is so foreign and scary. He really hopes that’s just his wolf and not him.

“Hey, little bunny.” A sick, twisted voice interrupts. 

Oh, right. 

Those fucking, disgusting alphas.

Heeseung is always slouching, making him appear shorter than he actually is. But in that moment, he’s standing so tall, dominating the space around him like the air is making room for him itself. 

He instinctively pulls you behind him, shielding you from the hungry eyes of the approaching alphas. His shoulders are braced like they’re ready for an impact and Heeseung has to force a snarl down his throat when his eyes land on the wolves.

When the shadows step under the light, it takes less than a second for Heeseung to see the jerseys clinging to their bodies before he realises who he’s looking at. 

They’re the players from the opposing team that his team just beat tonight. 

K, EJ, and Nicholas.

Heeseung grinds his jaw so hard he might pop a vessel.

“If it’s not the mighty Lee Heeseung,” K taunts, wearing a smug smirk like a badge at the sight in front of him. He cocks his head, trying to see you over Heeseung’s shoulders. You cower. “Mind sharing your pretty little cheerleader? She’s exactly my type, shy but slutty.”

Shame spreads across your skin and you screw your eyes shut. Shy and slutty, you bite your lips. You’re nothing but a kinky fantasy for alphas like them.

As if sensing your turmoil, Heeseung stands taller, his eyes narrowing thin.

“Get lost.” Heeseung tries to hold back, but the rage he feels seeps through anyway. “And cover your gland, for fuck’s sake. You stink.”

K’s eyebrows shoot up, his grin turning cheshire. “Come on, man. Are you gatekeeping your cheerleaders?” K tries to take a peek at you, but Heeseung moves and covers you with his whole body. His frown deepens. “You had fucked her already. Don’t be greedy, captain.”

His alpha minions laugh, and Heeseung is now seeing red. Something hot spreads in his chest, burning in his vein like wildfire at the insult. Was it a hit to his ego and his shameless sexual routine? Definitely, but Heeseung never takes it to heart. Rather, it’s the way you gasp and sob into his back, shaken by the disgusting assumption of your dignity and your virginity. The storm of the ocean spikes in the air, taking his pheromones to a dangerous peak, gathering a tide to a new height.

Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever released pheromones this bad. But something about seeing the same pattern of omegas falling victim to empty-headed alphas makes his blood boil.

Behind him, you whimper, your omega reacting to the agitated alpha in front of you. But Heeseung is now relentless. He holds out an arm around your waist, protecting you from their sight in a tight, almost-possessive grip.

“Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t you get it?” Heeseung seethes, pupils thinning as the laughter dies down. “She doesn’t want you. In what fucking language must she say no for your stupid brain to understand? She’s—”

Mine. She’s mine, his wolf howls. My omega. 

Heeseung grits his teeth.

No, she’s not. Get a fucking grip, Lee Heeseung. You don’t have a mate.

“...not a toy.”

The sea-salt bite of his pheromones thickens in the alley. K scoffs, stepping forward in offense but is stopped by Nicholas. The latter has his arm shot out against K’s chest, preventing him from approaching the couple.

“No, K,” Nicholas murmurs, nose sniffing at the heavy pheromones in the air. Underneath the eye-watering spice of cinnamon and the raging storm of Heeseung’ sea breeze scent, there is a tangled sweetness of daisies and honey clinging to it. He visibly gulps. “They’re together. And Heeseung…”

Nicholas throws him a side eye, giving him a once-over briefly. He takes in the sharp glare directed his way, the downturned curl of his mouth, the tense shoulders ready to pounce. Nicholas shudders imperceptibly and shakes his head.

“…He’s a dominant alpha.”

His statement, though meant to deescalate the situation, only rages Heeseung on further. The alpha takes a menacing step forward, eyes narrowing thin at the trio. They falter back.

“Get this in your empty brains you freaks,” Heeseung grits, fuming beyond reason. Nicholas swears he sees something red flickering in his irises. 

“When someone says no, you back the fuck off. Dominant alpha or not. Omega or not.” He spits out the word, the venom in his voice nearly poisons the air. “Do you fucking get it?”

His raging pheromones are turning physical, pressing on each pair of lungs like lead on a mattress. Nicholas fights the urge to cover his nose and pulls his two friends backwards with him.

“We get it. Sorry, captain.”

“Not me,” Heeseung hisses. A low growl rumbles in warning. “Her.”

Nicholas licks his lips and nods. He bows down quickly, forcing the other alphas to bend despite it hurting his pride. K reluctantly follows, though his eyes return the glare Heeseung gives him in a similar intensity. 

“We’re sorry, omega. Shit, I don’t know your name, but—we’re sorry.”

In the next moment, the three alphas are already retreating. Nicholas aggressively whispers something among them while K visibly restrains himself from running back to Heeseung. He clearly doesn’t mind taking up a challenge with the dominant alpha and Heeseung finds himself not minding to dirty his hands too.

A beat of heavy silence falls upon you. You stay rooted in place, pulse racing in your ears. Heeseung is still facing away from you, ragged breathing slowing down. The air of dense pheromones is thinning out, leaving behind trails of spicy cinnamon and soft daisies.

You let out a breath and your knees buckle. 

Heeseung is by your side in a flash, the same, now-familiar arms caging you against his tall frame. You put your hands on his chest, trying to steady the wobble in your legs.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay now. They’re gone.”

They really are. You cry. They’re actually gone.

An ugly sob racks through your chest and soon, the wilting daisies are back, staining the air with crumpled petals and sad flowers. Heeseung tightens his hold. He doesn’t like seeing people cry, but his alpha apparently despises it the most when he sees you in this state.

His calming pheromones pour out in waves, hands carding through your hair gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

You’re safe with me.

Your crying slows down. For a few seconds, you let yourself savour the warmth of Heeseung’s  embrace. Closer, his pheromones, layered with a faint trail of his body wash, are stronger, filling up the almost-nonexistent space between the two of you. Strangely, the spice and the salt work wonders on calming you down.

Your wolf—previously anxious and distressed—is now quiet. 

Heeseung adjusts his hold on you, and in that moment do you only realise in horror how long you’ve been shamelessly hugging him. Like a reflex, you pull away from his embrace, cheeks now flaming red when his shirt is now stained with two big spots of your tears.

“I’m sorry!” Your palms instinctively rub at the stains, as if they can dry out the tears out of the fabric. “I’ll buy you a new shirt.”

Heeseung looks down, silently watching the small of your palms against his broad chest. There’s a strange flutter that follows, quiet and unfamiliar. He hopes that you can’t feel it through the fabric.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Heeseung murmurs, eyes finding their ways back to your face. Red nose, swollen eyes, blotched cheeks. You really went through it, still sniffling as you still try to fix the stains on his shirt. A small part of him twists uncomfortably.

Heeseung catches your wrists, his thumbs moving almost instinctively against the soft skin.Your breath catches as you lift your gaze to look at him.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks, voice soft and gentle. You immediately nod, admittedly feeling better after being bathed in his calming pheromones.

“I’m okay. Just a bit thirsty.”

He searches your face, as if trying to detect any kind of discomfort or distress. But in the end, he ends up staring into your eyes, counting the lashes that guard your beautiful eyes.

It should end there. He really should just escort you back into the safety of your friend group and leave you be. Perhaps, he can go find the previous omega, seduce his way back and bring her home. The normal. The usual.

But something inside stirs in protest to that idea, and so instead he finds himself saying: “Let’s get you something to drink.”

The convenience store is bright under the dark sky, located just two blocks away from the nightclub. It’s already past one in the morning, but to the people of the night, it’s only the beginning of fun. From a distance, the queue line is only getting longer.

Beside you, Heeseung is walking on the edge of the pavement, looking out for cars despite the slow traffic. He’s been quiet since the alleyway, seemingly lost in thought. Occasionally, his hand will brush yours, a quiet graze that sends electricity in your system. You try not to react.

The convenience store is empty, save for a group of partygoers sobering up around the round table outside, leaving only a long bench beside the door empty. You stop when Heeseung does, his hand already tapping on the sensory handle.

“Wait here. I’ll buy you something to drink.”

You nod, obediently sitting down. Heeseung takes one last look at you before he enters the store, the harsh lights greeting his tired eyes. He grabs the coldest mineral water and stops in front of the necessities shelves.

Without thinking, his hand moves like it has a mind of its own, grabbing whatever his eyes land on—a heat pack, chocolate, a pack of wet tissues. It’s only when the cashier scans the items that he pauses, staring at the items with wide eyes.

Since when does he…do this?

“Anything to add, sir?”

Heeseung gulps, looks past the cashier’s head, and lands on the rows of pills behind him.

She cried too much, she might have a headache.

And so, as if on instinct, Heeseung adds paracetamol to his receipt.

Outside, the air is cooler, biting at exposed skin like a bug. Heeseung wordlessly sits beside you, placing the plastic bag on his lap. You curiously peek into the bag.

“That’s a lot. Are you hungry?”

Heeseung pauses, realisation dawns upon him. His instincts flare again. “No. Are you? Do you want ramyeon? Or packed rice? I can—”

“No! It’s fine, Heeseung,” you laugh softly, the sound like a melodious chime of a bell to his ears. “I had dinner.”

Heeseung visibly relaxes and nods. He hands you the bottle first, twisting the cap open before passing it over without a word. He watches you drink, takes the bottle from you, and gives you the heat pack next.

You blink at him. “It’s cold,” Heeseung shrugs, pulling your hand towards him and placing the heat pack on your palm. He closes your fingers over it. “This will warm you up a bit.”

For a second, you just stare at him. The warmth in your hand spreads from your fingers up to your chest, where your heart is thumping wildly at his gentle act.

You bring the heat pack to your neck, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you stare at him, cheeks blooming red. They put him in a trance, your eyes, as Heeseung finds himself unable to look away. His gaze then drops to your lips when they move, already clinging to every syllable without even knowing it.

“Thank you, Heeseung.”

The flutter comes back, now more frantic and aggressive than before, like a caged bird trying to escape. This time, Heeseung forces himself to look away, the plastic bag wrinkles under his tightening grip. 

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it, though.” You counter back, gazing at the passing cars as you feel a gust of chilling wind breezing through. You scoot closer to the heat beside you. “It was really scary. Thank you for helping me out.”

There’s a bitter tone, faint and subtle, to your scent, as if you’re recalling the ugly incident that just happened almost half an hour ago. Heeseung clenches his jaw. 

Before he can stop it, his pheromones spill out like soft waves, calming and comforting, cocooning you again like a safety blanket. His wolf hums in quiet satisfaction, watching the way your shoulders loosen, the tension melting off you bit by bit.

Heeseung doesn’t know when or how it happened, but there’s no gap between you now. But he doesn’t hate it like he thought he would. Here, you’re so close to him, your shoulder practically glued to his, seeking warmth from his body heat.

It’s a foreign feeling. A comfortable, foreign feeling.

You stay in that position, slowly getting drunk on his pheromones. Your eyes droop, fighting sleep, but the exhaustion from running away from scary alphas has finally caught up to you. Before you know it, your head dips against his shoulder, breath evening out as your fingers lose their grip on the heat pack. 

Heeseung swallows. He doesn’t dare move. From the proximity, he can smell your fruity hair wash, blending smoothly with your scent. 

It’s so unfair. Every inch of you smells really good, whether it’s your natural scent or the products that you use. It’s like every inch of your skin decides that you only deserve to smell the best, and Heeseung himself can’t help but agree too. It’s so unfair.

Heeseung finds his hands hover awkwardly in the air, hesitating for a second before settling carefully on your head. His fingers thread through your hair, slower this time.

“Don’t feel scared anymore,” he mumbles, gently caressing the dark strands of your hair. 

It’s me who should feel scared.

His fingers freeze in your hair. 

Scared. He is scared.

This is not him. If Riki or Jay were to walk in to see him in this state, they’d drag him to the nearest police station and demand they find the real Heeseung. The normal Heeseung. The usual Heeseung.

The Heeseung that doesn’t stay, or spend his time watching people breathe in their sleep. The Heeseung who’s out the door before the sheets even cool down. The Heeseung that dislikes small touches like these; like caressing the hair of the girl he just saved, because the only physical touch he brands himself with is sex.

Not this. Not whatever this is.

He wants to move, but his body doesn’t listen—he stays despite himself. His wolf, like it’s found something it’s been looking for all along, settles deeper instead, quiet and satisfied. You nuzzle closer into his body and Heeseung feels his chest tighten.

Something uneasy creeps up his spine.

This should feel suffocating. It should itch under his skin, make him want to pull away, shake you off, leave. 

But it doesn’t. It feels easy. Too easy, in fact.

And it scares the shit out of him.

When your senses return to you, the first thing that greets you is someone’s scent.

Warm, spicy cinnamon and calm, salty sea air.

The memory follows not long after; of angry frowns and disgusting smirks that make your skin crawl. Amidst it all, a familiar face flashes in your mind and you feel your heart stutter.

Heeseung.

The pulse in your wrist thuds violently, as if not letting you forget the owner of the pheromones now wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You faintly remember, in your subconscious, being carried to a car and your roommate, Yujin, hugging you in panic. Unconsciously, you pull your blanket closer to your chest.

Did Heeseung send you home? Did he really…scent-mark you to help you?

You bite your lips between your teeth. The clarity is palpable now that the haziness of pheromones and distress are no longer around. There’s no way an alpha—a dominant one, at that—is willing to scent-mark an omega he has no connections to. The implications are more than the action itself. Heeseung surely knows about that, right? 

It feels like a dream. It has to be a dream.

What a capable alpha, your wolf preens. Shut up, you hiss.

Then, as if the universe was insistent to prove you wrong, your eyes land on a plastic bag placed neatly on top of your vanity, a damning evidence of last night’s incident.

No way.

Your brain swirls with possibilities and your own made-up theories that it has started to throb faintly. Before you could lose your sanity, thread by unraveling thread, you rush to the bathroom to, hopefully, get rid of his scent, even when your omega begs you not to.

Unfortunately for the human-you, the cinnamon trails after you even post-showers. It clings to your clothes when you change and it doesn’t let you go even as you sit for breakfast prepared by your doting roommate. It’s strange, really. No one’s scent ever clung to you so stubbornly like this, like a chewing gum latching on shoe soles. You always cuddle with Yujin and even her green tea pheromones never stay with you after washing up.

“It’s a bit odd, yes,” Yujin munches through a mouthful of her own signature pancake. “But it’s not totally out-of-this-world. His scent will fade by this evening, I promise.”

You chew painfully slowly, eyes going wide at another possibility. “You don’t think that I conjured some kind of bond with him, right?”

It’s common knowledge that a thin, fragile bond can be easily formed when an alpha and an omega scent each other, mated or not. After all, context and intention are greatly considered, whether it’s meant for familiarity, protection, or possessiveness—each one will determine how long it’ll last.

You pull at the sleeves of your cardigan, a telltale sign of your anxiousness. The same wilting daisies accent of your scent from the night before comes back, signalling your impending distress. Yujin drops her fork and reaches a hand to yours.

“Hey, hey. Calm down for a sec, Y/N.”

“It’s just,” you swallow harshly, your traitorous mind replaying the scene from last night. Your heart thumps at the base of your throat. “I don’t know—fuck. I forced him to do this. And—and despite the circumstances, he still helped me and now…now I think…”

Your eyes turn glassy, reminded of the wolf residing deep inside you.

“I think my omega might like him.”

Yujin is silent for a moment, assessing the right words to say. It’s obvious to everyone on campus of the nature of Lee Heeseung. He’s not exactly the alpha you’d seek for companionship or commitment; he seems to be allergic to those things. 

And to get your wolf to like him…well, let’s say that you’re already set for thousand-words of angst and a life of yearning. Yujin isn’t exactly fond of the idea of dishing out what you already knew. You already seem restless enough with your own thoughts.

“Okay. That’s valid.” Yujin starts slowly, treading through every syllable like a mother to her kindergartener son. “He’s super attractive. It’s understandable. But you can, you know—unlike him.”

You perk up at that, though the doubt clouding your face is more prominent now. “How?”

“Find a better alpha,” Yujin shrugs, as if explaining the world’s simplest equation. “For the record, I do think Heeseung’s a good guy, just not in the romantic department. I don’t know why your wolf is picking a fuckboy out of all alphas, but taste is subjective.”

“It’s because he stepped up and protected me!” You deflect and pause, realising how defensive of him you have become. Yujin raises a brow and you sigh, defeated, slumping in your seat.

“Fuck. Now my omega hates you for badmouthing him.”

“Sucks to be you.”

“Just kill me.”

Yujin shoots you a small smile, pushing your now-cold plate closer to you. You reluctantly take a bite. “Why not someone else, though? You could ask literally any other alpha, like—” Yujin pauses and it takes her less than a second to pick a name. “Jay. Like Jay. He’s like, the safest option, the greenest flag. But why Heeseung? And don’t tell me it’s because he was the only one there—you could’ve just barged in and found someone else. It’s a freaking nightclub.”

You freeze, unmoving for a slow second. There is, of course, an answer to that. One that you admittedly avoid to admit, because admitting it will admit that there is something underneath that only you know, and you admit that it’s scary to admit that. Fuck this admission! Yujin wouldn’t make fun of you, right?

“I…” You trail off, second-guessing your decision. Should you really tell your roommate? Seeing the eager look on her face, with her sweet, cute dimples showing up, you decide that people with dimples should be banned from this world. Promptly, you’re reminded of your junior—an alpha with Jungwon or something as his name. The both of them possessed dimples that could make any alpha (or omega) drop down to their knees.

Alas, you force yourself to tell the truth.

“I smelled him for afar.” You watch carefully for Yujin’s reaction. “Like, from outside. While I was running from those scary alphas.”

Yujin contemplates. “Did you feel some kind of a pull towards him?”

You don’t even contemplate. “Yes.” 

“Holy shit,” Yujin laughs, her grin turning giddy. “This shit is actually real?!”

“What is?!” You frown, not liking being kept in the dark. A playful punch lands on Yujin’s shoulder, who’s now throwing her head back in laughter. Unconsciously, a pout is formed on your lips.

“What is it? Tell me!”

“It’s just, there’s this joke going around,” Yujin hiccups between every inhale, “that an omega will eventually crave for his knot. I can’t believe it’s happening to you!”

The lines in your forehead deepen. You regard your roommate with a look of contempt, thinking of the best spot to hide a body.

“That’s not true. I don’t crave his knot, or whatever it is.” You sigh, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know what? I’m just gonna pretend last night didn’t happen.”

Resigned and defeated, you rise and bring your plate to the sink. Your class doesn’t start until the next three hours, and then the evening is reserved for your new routine practice for the upcoming tournament. The ninety-two unread messages from the group chat are still left unopened; you haven’t had time to review the routine video yet.

You put on your apron and reach for the cabinet. When in distress or deep thoughts, other than nesting in your bedroom, you often opt to stress-bake instead. The scent of baked goods always puts you at ease, and it blends sweetly with your daisies and honey pheromones. Everyone who knows you knows to empty their stomach and be ready for a mass sweet-feeding whenever you’re in your stressed baker mode.

Behind you, Yujin’s laughter dies in her throat. Then, a question that stops you in your tracks comes.

“Hey, you don’t think it’s because you and Heeseung are fated mates, right?”

Fated mates. The words settle like a heavy blanket, pressing you down with its weight and keeping you warm altogether. 

It’s sacred. It’s ancient. It’s something that you never speak of lightly, afraid that a slip of a tongue would taint the purity of such a bond. Against all odds and critiques on the concept of fated mates, you’re part of the minority who believed in it, no matter how foolish or ridiculous it may sound.

You believe in fated mates. You believe in the name written in the stars, in the love that has been shaped and created just to cherish you. You believe in spending the rest of your life looking for a face that your heart would recognise in a heartbeat, feeling that inevitable pull like you’re each other’s missing half.

But after last night, do you think it’s because you and Heeseung are fated mates?

Heeseung, who’s always made it clear to everyone about his relationship with commitments?

Heeseung, who never shies away when the boys tease him about the girls he sleeps with?

You’re never one to judge someone’s sex life, but you might be a little too concerned about how they view a long-term, committed relationship. Because that’s what you’ve been looking for. 

An alpha who’s not afraid to love you loudly. An alpha whose instincts are to love and protect you. 

Sometimes, you really envy mated couples. You envy how loyal Riki is of his girlfriend, craving the same kind of devotion to be directed to you. You envy how proud Taesan is to show off his mating mark, like it’s a badge of honour and love that promises forever.

Eventually, your mind drifts to Heeseung. The captain of the basketball team. Someone who deceives people with how approachable he seems, but is actually the most detached.

Heeseung is a perfect and capable alpha. You’ve seen it.

He leads his team with the kind of leadership that becomes a glue, keeping the team together no matter what challenges they’re going through. You know that he’s from the music department, and there are a few songs with his name being credited as the producer, composer, lyricist—you name it. Heeseung is a dominant alpha and uses his authority well, and he knows how to fend for himself.

You admire him, you really do. 

But will he devote himself to you? Will he look only for you in a crowd of beautiful omegas, and beautiful omegas who have spent the night with him? Does he share the same sentiment as you when it comes to fated mates?

The churn in your stomach provides an answer clearer than any of your exams had ever done.

You let Yujin’s question fade in the background, letting yourself lose in your element—baking and baking and baking until it feels like you could feed a whole team of athletes. Which is what Yujin has suggested before she leaves for her lab session, after saving a big jar of cookies for herself.

Fated mates.

What a scary thought.

For the first time in his life, Heeseung is actively avoiding omegas.

It’s not any omegas, though. It’s only you. But since it’s you, it’s actually a pretty big deal to him. 

Heeseung doesn’t play favourites. He doesn’t believe in fated mates, remember? But last night left a lasting impact in the form of your scent still clinging to him this morning, even after showering.  Not to mention how excited his wolf has been when realising that it’s you. 

It’s you, for fuck’s sake! The one who rejected him one year ago, and, admittedly, one of the prettiest omegas on campus. You might as well be every alpha’s ideal type. Well, maybe not Riki, that man is proudly claimed and fiercely loyal to his mate. But it’s definitely the case for him and Jay. 

Knowing his best friend, Heeseung’s sure you’re just Jay’s type. And his. No. He didn’t say that. He doesn’t have a type, remember?

As if to make it worse, you also have a scent that might just be his favourite one yet. The same scent that is currently invading his senses, dampening other pheromones in the court despite being on opposite ends from you. The same scent that his wolf decides to pick up and single out the moment he steps foot in the campus, recognising you before his eyes can even see you first. The same scent that still lingers in his lungs, mingling with his cinnamon and sea breeze notes like dancing partners. 

Yeah, Heeseung is starting to think that he’s slowly going insane. 

“Dude, stop staring. You’re scaring them.”

Heeseung blinks, Jay’s voice successfully snapping him out of whatever omega-spell that you have casted on him. Yeap, he nods. It’s definitely that. You’re actually a witch. There’s no other explanation to this other than that.

A blob of freshly-dyed blonde hair pops up beside Jay. “Hyung showed up smelling like daisies and honey and suddenly he’s staring at the cheerleaders like they owe him money.” Riki teases, then grins when he realises something. “Wait, that kinda rhymes—”

“I’m not staring!” Heeseung almost shouts, belatedly realising that he, indeed, has been staring at the group of cheerleaders stretching across the court. Or, to be more precise, he’s been staring at you. He glares at Riki.

“Okay. So why do you smell like one of them then? What’s her name again, Jay hyung?”

Heeseung grumbles. “It’s no one—”

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, that one. The shy one.” 

Heeseung groans. He kicks Riki’s shins and makes a show of turning his back facing the cheerleaders. But for some reasons he refuses to admit, as if he has eyes on the back of his head, he still can point where you’re standing just from his senses alone.

These stupid, useless alpha senses.

At least Jay takes pity on him. “Your Heeseung hyung saved her from perverts last night. He scented her to calm her down because she was reacting pretty badly.”

Heeseung mentally thanks Jay and continues warming up. He opts to just watch his teammates dribble and stretch just like him. The faint hum of scent neutraliser—a new, advanced one, thanks to that incident with Riki’s girlfriend—rumbles slowly. Somewhere behind him, he can hear you laugh and taste the sweet spike in your scent on his tongue. Heeseung grits his teeth. 

What is wrong with his wolf? Please get your tail together.

Riki, on the other hand, is intrigued. “Really? Did it happen after I left? Who were those alphas?”

“Some idiots from that team we beat last night.”

Riki frowns, clearly displeased with the news he just heard. “Well, I’ll keep my eyes on them. How did Heeseung hyung find her?”

Jay shrugs and shoots him a look. Heeseung really hopes he can slap that annoying smirk off his face one day. “Dunno. Ask him. His alpha probably recognised her from miles away.”

Heeseung doesn’t like what that sentence implies. “Shut up. It’s just instinct. Normal alpha-omega reaction.”

“Keep lying to yourself. I can practically see your tail wagging when you smelled your pheromones on her just now.”

“I didn’t—” Heeseung closes his eyes, forcing himself to calm down despite the sudden flare of defensiveness exploding in his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s so reactive and not in his usual calm composure, but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with you. Jay and Riki snicker. 

“The only people that believe in fated mates are you two idiots. Do you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Riki snorts and looks at him, amused. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I have a fated mate. That shit is rare. It’s like finding my size in Calvin Klein.”

Jay frowns. “I don’t see the correlation.”

“There is. My dick is just too big, hyung. There’s no size for me—”

“I don’t need to know that!” Jay slaps at Riki’s shoulders while the younger alpha only lets out a full-body laugh. “Save that information for your girlfriend, Riki. I didn’t raise you like this.”

“She already knows that.”

“Nishimura Riki!” 

Heeseung is back to zoning out, his energy is suddenly drained out of his soul. That’s usually the case when you have to deal with a Nishimura Riki and a Park Jongseong on a daily basis. His mind, choosing to move at the pace of a snail today, is replaying Riki’s words back like a broken loop.

The realisation hits him five seconds late. “Wait. Did you mean that you and your girlfriend are not…fated mates? I thought you were!”

Riki is trapping Jay in a headlock when he answers. “Nope. We only imprinted on each other from early on because we’re childhood friends.”

“So like…what’s the difference?” Heeseung pauses and hesitates for a moment. He glances at you and then thinks, fuck it. If curiosity didn’t kill the cat then it’ll definitely kill him. “Can you smell your girlfriend in a sea of people?”

Riki scrunches his nose, his hands busy play-fighting with Jay. Heeseung ignores them like it’s a daily occurrence to see them act this way. Which is probably not far from the truth. “Not really? If they’re too many people, like right now, with your stench and too many omega scents—it’s difficult to find her.” Jay tackles his side and Riki yelps. “B-But it’s getting better after the mating bite, though—Jay hyung! I just got my tattoo there!”

“So…you can’t like…” Heeseung licks his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He has a feeling that he’s not going to like the answer Riki’s going to give him once he finishes his sentence. Jay is now on the floor while Riki is pulling him by the legs and dragging him around like a used rug.

“You can’t single her out from her scent alone?”

There. He said it. His two idiotic friends will catch on it and grill him for the problem he partially caused. The other part is, no doubt, his wolf’s fault for deciding to like one single scent. You’re not at fault at all. Never. Wait, who said that?

Riki is breathless from the laughter and play-fight, but he still manages to listen and answer, thanks to his alpha senses. If he finds Heeseung’s questions strange, he only shares his suspicion through a knowing look with Jay.

“Sometimes. Like I said, it’s only when the crowd isn’t too big and when she’s in the same room as me.” Riki finally spares Heeseung a glance, tilting his head in a feigned curiosity. “Why are you asking, hyung? Did you smell Y/N from miles away or something?”

How the fuck did that idiot know?

Heeseung looks away from the teasing grin thrown his way. He really doesn’t like this. “No,” he grumbles. “I’m just afraid if I might be Jay’s fated mate because his pheromones are fucking everywhere.”

“Hey! What the fuck did I do to you?!” 

Riki bursts out laughing and high-fives Heeseung with a cheeky smile. On the floor, Jay is already huffing and sulking, mumbling something about ‘always catching strays’ and ‘citrusy pheromones aren’t smelly’. Heeseung sighs quietly when the topic takes a turn into a debate about who has the best smelling pheromones, which is an easy win for Riki, if Heeseung’s going to be honest. 

Don’t tell Jay though. Heeseung doesn’t want to lose his passenger princess privilege so soon.

Much to his relief, it’s already time for practice. Heeseung tries to ignore the prickle in his neck coming from your direction as you and your fellow cheerleaders leave the gym to go to your own practice room. He fights the urge to look back, to stride forward and ask you to stay—which is insane, by the way, what the fuck is wrong with him?

Before he slips into his captain mode, however, Jay approaches him with a more serious look on his face. “Calm your flat tits, Hee. It’s normal for her scent to linger; you kinda scented her aggressively to protect her last night.”

Heeseung weakly nods. Jay pats his shoulder. “A deep bond can’t be conjured just from scenting alone, unless you’re fated mates.”

This time, Heeseung doesn’t move, his tension visible in the rigid lines of his posture, the frantic movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

“Yeah,” he croaks, his pulse louder than his own voice. “Hope not.”

Practice goes on for the next two hours. Heeseung eventually falls into routine, finding himself lost in adrenaline and competitiveness. The thoughts of you cease for a moment, replaced by his quick-thinking strategy and sharp reflexes. He keeps dribbling, scoring, and making passes, not even aware of the ticking clock or when the cheerleader squad comes back in to take a break.

The last whistle finally blows before the players dramatically fall in a heap of sweaty, breathless alphas. The practice was particularly grueling, which made his body ache and his shirt clung to his skin. The coach is on fire today, all because his wife has been giving him a silent treatment. Apparently, he forgot to buy diapers on his way home last night.

Source: Nishimura Nosy.

“I think I might die,” Jay huffs, claiming a bench all to himself. His chest rises and falls in a rapid motion. “But even as a ghost, I bet the coach would still unearth my grave to force me to practice.”

“I’ll be Ghost Number Two.” Heeseung deadpans, lying down on the bench next to Jay. The latter continues to talk about something else, which Heeseung would know and remember if he didn’t get distracted by daisies and honey.

Fuck. You’re in the court again.

The urge to corner you, to grab your wrist and ask if you were okay, crawls under his skin again—restless, unrelenting.

Heeseung isn’t stupid. He knows last night, ugly as it was, doesn’t just fade by morning. His alpha has been clawing at him since then, sharp and impatient, demanding he go to you.

But Heeseung doesn’t move.

For once, he’s a coward.

He shoves it down, buries it deep, treating his own wolf like a disease he refuses to catch.

Heeseung blinks at the ceiling in an active effort to not start looking for you and staring at you like a creep. This time, he wonders quietly why your scent smells stronger than before. Perhaps the adrenaline from your routine. But even so, you don’t only smell strong, but you also smell closer—

“Free cookies!”

Heeseung jolts in surprise and whips his head in the direction of that voice. Or, precisely, your voice. His heart, as if trying to shorten his life span, decides not to take a break from the session just now and continues beating even faster.

There, just a few paces away from him, is you, standing in the middle of the court with one of your cheerleader friends. In her hold, there’s a purple Tupperware, its lid nowhere to be found. You stand slightly behind your friend, shyly looking over her shoulders as she talks to his teammates.

“Oh my God, they brought us cookies?!” Jay is already standing up, stretching lazily like a cat. “C’mon, Hee. It’s free cookies.”

Heeseung’s quick to refuse, despite his wolf begging him to go. “Nah—”

But before he can spit out any excuses, Jay is already dragging him, his weeks spent in the gym working out with Riki are finally paying off. “Don’t be ridiculous. Take your portion and give it to me.”

Heeseung groans. He really should start joining their workout session. He can’t be manhandled by his two best friends easily like this.

Distracted, Heeseung fails to register the decreasing distance between you and him. It’s only when your scent spikes sweetly, which hits him in the face like a fucking tidal wave, does he catch your eyes and realises that, fuckfuckfuck she’s here ohmyGod—

“Hi, Jay. Hi, Heeseung.”

Wait hold on, why does his name sound even more beautiful coming from your voice?

He stands like a flag pole beside Jay, actively avoiding your eyes while being fully aware of that pretty pair staring at his face. The floor suddenly looks very interesting, with skid marks from their shoes and some sweat trails. Okay. Ew. That’s gross.

“Hey, pretty ladies.” Jay greets, flashing his attractive smile as he gestures at the container. “Heard there’s free cookies for the taking? Mind if we have some?” 

Smooth as ever, Jay doesn’t even realise how easily he has charmed your friend with his simple greeting. Poor omega is already blinking rapidly, almost bouncing on her toes as she practically shoves the Tupperware into Jay’s chest. 

“Yes! Yes, of course you can, Jay. There’s only little left! Take them all!”

Your eyes, fixated on Heeseung since he arrived, tries to search his face as you shyly interrupt, whispering into your friend’s ear. 

“Offer some to Heeseung too…”

Heeseung doesn’t know whether to curse or thank the Goddess for his advanced dominant-alpha senses, because overhearing those words…it makes his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.

But your friend doesn’t pay you any mind, urging Jay to take the Tupperware from her. Jay, ever the gentleman but still a little shameless shit when it comes to food, takes it from her eager hands. He takes one bite and immediately lights up.

“This is so good! I love that it’s not too sweet.”

Like a mirror reflecting light, you beam widely, returning Jay’s enthusiasm. Heeseung tries to ignore the ugly twist in his chest. “Really? That’s…good to hear.”

“She made these, by the way!” Your friend proudly announces, which makes red blooms across your cheeks, ducking your head down slightly. You’re so shy, so pretty, Heeseung can’t stop staring.

And so good at baking. Such a perfect omega, his wolf continues. Shut the fuck up, Heeseung hisses.

“You’re really good at this, Y/N,” Jay interrupts his internal war, his voice sounding wrong in his ears. “Care to share the recipe?”

Now, is Jay flirting with you? Since when does his voice sound like that?

Heeseung tries to inhale, attempting to calm his fucking irrational wolf down, but all he can smell is the sugary scent of yours, tangling delicately and blending seamlessly with his spicy cinnamon and salty sea breeze. Somewhere in his chest, his heartstrings soften, drunk in the perfect mix of your pheromones, a ghost of a mark from last night. 

Maybe that’s what possessed him to snatch the Tupperware from Jay.

Heeseung wastes no time and starts munching two cookies at once, ignoring the gasps from you and your friend and the bombastic side-eye from his fellow alpha friend. The flavour of buttery vanilla and sweet chocolate chips melt on his tongue and Heeseung almost purrs at the taste.

Outside, he makes an effort to look calm.

“These are good,” he comments coolly, trying to make it sound more like a statement than a compliment (he’s failing). This time, he dares himself to meet your eyes, and has to force down another purr when he sees the sparkles in your eyes. “Thank you, Y/N.”

There’s a strange satisfaction blooming in his chest when the blush in your cheeks deepen. You quickly look down to the floor, mumbling softly that could’ve been missed had it not been for his senses.

What kind of pull is this? Why is every sense of his attuned to you? Heeseung swears he can smell the subtle spike of your scent, the sound of your heartbeat and your soft breathing. It’s like his whole body has decided that it wants to worship you.

And Heeseung doesn’t worship. Fuck. This is terrifying.

“Thank you, Heeseung…”

There. Your voice again. Heeseung swallows. His grip on the Tupperware tightens. Seeing you under this light, flushed and softly smiling to the ground while sneaking glances at him—it undoes him in ways he never dared imagine. 

The question is already at the tip of his tongue without his realisation. ‘Are you okay? Does what happened last night still bother you?’ The urge to comfort and soothe, now growing like a rolling snowball, threatening to spill from his mouth.

And the scary part is: Heeseung isn’t sure if that desire comes from his wolf or himself.

However, he never gets the chance to, because Jay with his perfect, universe-timing is already pulling him backwards. “Thank you for the cookies! We’ll eat them well!”

Heeseung reluctantly nods, the grip he has on the Tupperware turning knuckle-white.

“What the fuck was that?” Jay whisper-yells when they’re out of earshot, walking back to their previous spot. “And those are not only for you. Give them back to me!”

Heeseung dodges his grabby hand. “Why the fuck are you eating more?” He asks, failing to mask the bitterness in his voice.

“Didn’t they give all ten of them to us?”

“You’ve had two.”

“And you’ve had five!”

“I don’t care. These are mine.”

“You are being ridiculous.”

That’s what it takes for Heeseung to freeze in his tracks. Seeing an opening, Jay quickly snatches the Tupperware from his grasp and runs back to his spot on the bench, not forgetting to flip off the burgundy-haired alpha as he does so.

Heeseung is losing his fucking mind.

Sighing, Heeseung closes his eyes, a faint trail of daisies and honey still clinging to his senses. Even across the room, among the murmur of the gossiping cheerleaders, it’s your voice, the only one clear and crisp to his ears. 

I’m being ridiculous.

This isn’t me.

Slowly, his human side starts taking over, all flowery images of you vanish within seconds.

Fuck, he curses. He wishes this scent-marking will be gone by tomorrow morning.

Three mornings later, much to his dismay, your scent still clings to him. On the bright side, it has been notably fading, now only the remnants of daisies and honey underneath cinnamon and sea air; like crunched petals along the shoreline, waiting to be washed away.

Against his own judgment, however, his wolf is fucking devastated.

He’s been whining like a kicked puppy ever since he walked to practice this morning and couldn’t smell his scent on you instantly. He still can spot you from two buildings away, which is still strange, but the lack of spice and salt in your scent is what does it. Heeseung has to fight the urge to march towards you and start scenting you.

His wolf has been restless. And, inevitably, it puts Heeseung in a terrible mood, too. He never knew his wolf was that desperate. 

Practice ends late that night. With the tournament just around the corner, everyone is being a little shit at managing their emotions and competitiveness on the court—the downside of having an all-alpha team that people rarely talk about. 

Heeseung is not excluded from the equation, though. He almost threw the ball to Taesan’s knot and made his omega pups-less and pregnancy-free when he accidentally made a bad pass. The court had smelled like tension and a barely held-together brotherhood when he left before a cheerleader came up to him to flirt and he wasted no time to drag her to an empty classroom.

Now, Heeseung finds himself making out with that omega, tongue licking up into her mouth while she breathlessly moans into his. It’s been five days since his last fuck, and while he usually can go on without sex for weeks (one month was his best record), he’s been at his wit’s end today. Add the confusion and silent wars he’s been having about you into the mix, and Heeseung is nothing more than a stressed body waiting to be relieved.

Weirdly enough, the frustration he hopes to get rid of stays as frustration. The old sparks he usually feels when having this intimate moment with an omega seems to disappear tonight. In the back of his mind, like a looming cloud carrying a storm, is a hazy image of teary eyes and red, trembling lips.

Something stirs uneasily in his chest.

His huge, veiny hands slip under her skirt and find purchase on her cunt, gathering the slick leaking from her arousal. Her scent spikes as she bucks up her hips and, to Heeseung’s own surprise, he recoils from the smell of it and breaks the kiss. The girl doesn’t stop her advances, switching to kiss down his long neck instead.

He subconsciously scrunches up his nose, his finger halting its movement for a second. 

“What perfume are you wearing?” He asks, voice hoarse from the makeout session. He tilts his head back, allowing access and finding stimulation, but the usual thrill is a bit dull tonight.

“My pheromones,” she manages between kisses, “you like it?”

It’s quite the opposite, to be honest. Heeseung finds himself hating it. It’s too sweet. Too sharp. It sits wrong in his nose, burns at the back of his throat, like inhaling smoke for the first time. His eyes water.

There’s something wrong. He’s not enjoying this. 

And to make things worse and more confusing, his chest hurts. It constricts, like his lungs decide to shrink into a ball of unexplained pain. Heeseung’s breath stutters, almost doubling over. His mind is a frantic buzz of noise, chanting something that he can’t seem to fully register yet.

Not my omega. Not daisies. Not honey.

Heeseung feels something twist in his gut.

The nameless omega—he forgot to ask for her name—doesn’t notice the shift yet, the way Heeseung is already a frozen statue of confusion and frustration in her embrace. She continues, trailing down hot, wet kisses along the prominent line of his collarbone and sucks the tender skin. 

“Ow!” Heeseung yelps, instinctively pushing her away. The spot stings like a pulsing heartbeat, void of any pleasure that it usually would give. He staggers backwards once.

The girl frowns, clearly not happy being pushed like that. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

“I—” Heeseung hisses, his shirt sitting wrong on his skin, her scent smelling wrong in his nose. He shakes his head. “Shit. I’m sorry, I—I have somewhere to be.” 

The girl scoffs, disbelieving. “What?! Heeseung, you can’t just—”

But Heeseung can, and he already does. The alpha is out of the room in the next minute, deliberately the calls of his name and the strings of insults that come from behind him. He makes a run for it.

What the fuck did just happen? Heeseung is never one to refuse a good time with omega, but his wolf is quiet tonight. Too quiet, like it’s being silent on purpose in solidarity for something he’s yet to know—or yet to realise. 

The hazy image comes back to his mind, slowly becoming sharp and clear. Heeseung thinks his lungs have turned into bricks when he realises that he’s been imagining you. That his head has been loud with the thoughts of you, even when he’s with someone else.

Why? Why is this happening? Why you?

Heeseung makes a turn to where the locker room is, planning to grab his duffel and leave, when he bumps into Riki and Jay, freshly out of the shower.

“Heeseung hyung?” A shirtless Riki calls his name, then raises a brow when he sees his condition. “Was wondering where you were. But those lipstick stains told me enough.”

Heeseung wipes his neck harshly. Wordlessly, he yanks his locker open and checks himself out in a mirror. He turns his face left and right, yanking down his under eyes, then sighs. Riki and Jay exchange looks. The air is slowly thickening with the pheromones of a distressed alpha, coming from none other than Heeseung.

“You good, mate?” Jay decides to ask him. Heeseung doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he’s as good as he wants himself to be. The alpha lets out another sigh and slams the door closed.

“I think something is definitely wrong with me.”

“Is it practice?” Jay softens his voice, already switching on his therapist-friend mode. “Hee, today’s just that day. Everybody was losing their shits, it’s not just you.”

Heeseung leans his back on the locker and tilts his head upwards. “It’s not that. I mean it biologically. Ever since—” Heeseung pauses, suddenly unsure if saying out loud would make things right. But Riki and Jay have already caught onto it.

“Ever since what?”

Heeseung chooses to deflect. “Look, I was trying to make out with this one pretty omega just now. But no matter how much kissing we did, I just couldn’t enjoy it.” Heeseung points to his sweatpants. Riki and Jay curiously follow with their eyes. “She was practically sucking my tongue and I’m not even bricked up, man!”

Riki furrows his eyebrows. “Not even a spark?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “I couldn’t feel anything. At all. Only,” he swallows harshly. “I only felt disgusted. By her.”

Silence hangs in the room at his revelation. Riki’s expression morphs into something akin to genuine surprise, while Jay only stares at him with a gaping mouth before he starts typing on his phone.

“This is dead serious. You can’t have sex without your dick. That's like a banana cake without bananas.”

Heeseung and Riki grimace. “Please don’t ever compare my dick to a banana again.”

“Or a banana cake.” Riki slaps his shoulder. “That’s my favourite, hyung. Don’t be gross.”

Jay waves a dismissive hand, eyes still glued on his phone. “Right, right. Anyway, I texted Sunoo.”

Heeseung’s eyes go wide like saucer plates at the name and groans. “Sunoo?! Jay, you know he’s still mad at me.”

“I know, but he’s the only one who probably knows the answer to this.” Jay smacks his lips when he reads a new text from Sunoo. “He’s staying back for a lab session. Let’s go to the medicine building.”

And that’s how Heeseung finds himself cramped into a tiny booth of a ramyeon stall, located by the road near the faculty of medicine. A pouty Sunoo is sitting across from him, shooting him his foxy side-eyes as he whines at Jay.

“Jay hyung, why did you bring this traitor with you?” Sunoo pulls at the sleeves of Jay’s hoodie, sulking away from Heeseung. It’s only the three of them since Riki had gone home with his girlfriend just now. “I thought the three of us would include you, me, and Riki.”

Jay sighs exasperatedly. “I had to, Sunoo. That traitor is having a critical dick malfunction and he needs your help.”

The waitress arrives with three bowls of steaming ramyeon. Jay and Sunoo pause their not-so-quiet argument and help her place the bowls on their table. She clears her throat awkwardly, and takes a quick glance at Heeseung before leaving. Heeseung groans internally.

Great. Now words about him and his dick problem will spread around the campus.

“Is STD finally catching up with you?” 

Heeseung should know that it was never that easy to get Sunoo off his back. That boy is a professional pouty sulk-er, he’ll never let Heeseung go easily. Not after harassing him with his sass, at least. Heeseung holds back a sigh, already resigned and defeated.

With a grim voice, he apologises to the brown-haired alpha. For the fifth time. 

“Sunoo, I am so sorry. I know it was my fault, but for the record, I didn’t know you were serious about pretending to be an omega. Why would you even do that, anyway?”

“Because I like the attention!” Sunoo is fast to defend himself, his pout only deepening. “And because alphas will only spoil me if I was their pretty little soft omega—which I am not! And you exposing my secondary gender to that alpha just ruined my chance to be with him. Who would even call their friend, ‘my cutie little fake omega’, anyway?!”

“I was drunk!”

“A drunk traitor is still a traitor!”

Heeseung turns to Jay, sending him signals to help him out. But his best friend deliberately ignores him, too engrossed in his own bowl, pretending to be a wall. Heeseung rolls his eyes and looks back at Sunoo.

It might not be that easy to console the sulky boy, but Heeseung is labelled a sweet talker for a reason.

“You’re already a pretty alpha, Sunoo. Prettier than any omega I know. Anyone would drop everything for you even if they knew you weren’t an omega.”

Like a switch being flipped, the frown on Sunoo’s melts away, replaced by a beam so wide it shows off his perfect teeth.

“Aw, Heeseungie hyung. You’re now forgiven. Now tell me about this dick problem of yours.”

Jay and Heeseung look at each other and relax into their chairs in relief. Heeseung sends him a look of, ‘That was easy,’ to which Jay raises his eyebrow, ‘Why hadn’t you done it sooner?’

Now, with Sunoo not threatening to kill the burgundy-haired alpha anymore, Heeseung can finally enjoy a few bites of his untouched ramyeon. It’s already a bit cold and soggy, but the broth makes up for it. He retells the story to Sunoo between bites, watching the ever expressive boy react to it with various expressions.

“It’s not uncommon, though. But since it’s you, it must have felt very concerning.” Sunoo hums in thought, tapping his full lips with the thinnest tips of his chopsticks. “Well, Heeseungie hyung, did you imprint on any omegas?”

Heeseung hesitates for a moment before he shakes his head, feeling Jay’s eyes on him.

“No.”

“Hm, okay. Even if it’s due to imprints, it has to come from both sides,” Sunoo rubs his chin, now looking every bit a live action of Detective Conan, minus the glasses. “Did you conjure a bond with anyone? Maybe accidentally?”

Heeseung’s lips part. “I…would’ve known, right?”

“Right.” Sunoo nods firmly, then tilts his head. “Did you scent one of your hookups, then?”

“An almost-hookup,” Jay cuts in, clearly enjoying this interrogation. Heeseung shoots him a look. Jay is always out to rat him out and he’s actually so close to disowning him.

He grunts. “Just…someone.”

Sunoo smiles in amusement. “So you did scent someone. Was it someone you like?”

“Define like.”

“Like them enough to want to kiss them. Like them enough to want to fuck them. Like them enough to even want to scent them to begin with.” Sunoo shrugs. “Pick one.”

Heeseung closes his eyes. Does he like you? Wanting to kiss and fuck someone don’t equal to liking them. Because if that was true, then there’s no other explanation to Heeseung ‘liking’ every omega he has fucked other than him having an insanely big heart—which he doesn’t. He liked the sex and their company; that was all there was to it.

Which leaves him option number three. 

Heeseung’s never the guy to sit with his feelings—at least not the romantic kind. You’re an unfamiliar territory; something that he deliberately avoids his entire life, simply because he never sees settling down with a mate as a desirable goal or accomplishment. And, perfectly hidden under his fuckboy persona is also a thin layer of fear.

Fear of getting hurt by the thing that’s supposed to be love.

But does he like you?

Maybe he does. He’s always liked the way you laugh; you always cover your mouth with one hand when you do, like your smile is only visible in the privacy of those who really know you. He’s always noticed the way you touch the tip of your nose when people’s eyes are on you. He’s always thought the natural blush that you have when you’re shy is adorable.

In that one single minute, Heeseung realises that he’s been paying attention to you more than he thought he did.

Fuck. He does like you.

But does liking have to lead to being mated?

That responsibility is way taller and heavier than him and Heeseung is beyond freaked out.

“Earth to Heeseungie hyung?”

“Why does it even matter? What does it even have to do with me not getting a boner during a makeout session?” Heeseung demands, frustration bleeding into his voice. Is Sunoo punishing him for being the reason he fumbled that tall, hot alpha two weeks ago? Will Sunoo truly ever forgive him? He already apologised five times!

Sunoo, seeing enough of his hyung’s suffering, finally relents. “Geez, relax. I wasn’t playing with you. I asked because most of the time this happens,” he gestures at Heeseung and his crotch. Heeseung instinctively closes his long legs. “It’s because the wolf has already liked one omega. An omega they recognise as their mate. It’s the only explanation why you felt disgusted just now.”

Mate. That cursed word again. Beside Sunoo, Jay is whistling.

“Sorry. You mean my wolf, my alpha, likes one omega and decides I shouldn’t fuck around anymore?”

Sunoo nods. “Basically, yeah. But it usually isn’t that easy, hyung. A bond has to have been conjured between your wolf and their wolf by any kind of markings.”

“Like?”

“Like biting. Or scenting.”

Scenting. Heeseung didn’t just do scenting with you, he was scent-marking you.

“But that’s impossible,” Jay interrupts, confusion etching onto his handsome features. His leaning forward now, his empty bowl pushed to the center of the table, which reminds Heeseung of his own bowl. The alpha quickly finishes his noodles. “Scenting between unmated alpha and unmated omega will only conjure a temporary, fragile bond. It should’ve been gone by now—the scenting happened five days ago.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I can detect some floral scent in Heeseungie hyung’s pheromones.”

Heeseung almost chokes on his noodles. “You do?”

Sunoo leans forward, squinting his eyes at him like he’s some kind of lab specimen. “Yeah. It’s faint, but it’s there. Sweet. Floral. Clingy.” He tilts his head again. “It’s weird.”

Across from him, Heeseung is frozen. His grip on the chopsticks tightens. He swallows harshly.

“That’s not supposed to happen…right?”

“Exactly,” Sunoo points at him. “That’s why I’m saying it’s weird.”

Jay leans back, arms crossed. “But if it’s still there after five days—”

“It doesn’t automatically mean fated mates,” Sunoo cuts in quickly, tone sharper this time. He shoots Jay a look before turning back to Heeseung. “Don’t jump to that conclusion. That’s, like, extremely rare. And also very dramatic.”

Heeseung exhales, shoulders dropping just a little.

Right. Dramatic. His alpha begs to differ.

“It could just be a stronger-than-usual temporary bond,” Sunoo continues, more thoughtful now. “Maybe your alpha overdid it when you scented them. Or the omega was in a heightened emotional state, so the bond lasted longer.”

Jay hums, not entirely convinced.

“But the whole not getting turned on thing?” He gestures vaguely. “That still doesn’t explain it fully.”

Sunoo taps his chin again. “Mhm. That part’s interesting.” He levels Heeseung with a curious look. “Who is this girl, anyway? You seem pretty fucked over her.”

Heeseung groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Can you not say it like that? Like I’m some kind of a broken alpha?”

“You kinda are right now,” Sunoo says bluntly.

“Sunoo.”

“I’m serious!” He leans forward again, eyes lighting up. “Your body is rejecting other omegas. That’s not normal for you. Like, at all.”

Heeseung slumps deeper into his seat. As if it’s not already obvious enough, Sunoo just had to spell it out loud.

“I noticed,” he mutters, defeated.

Sunoo softens slightly at that, sighing as he rests his chin on his palm. “Okay. Look. Don’t panic yet.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“You’re literally here because your dick stopped working.”

“…Okay, I’m a little panicked.”

Sunoo waves his chopsticks dismissively. “It’s probably not fated mates. If it were, you’d be way worse right now.”

Heeseung stills. “Worse?”

“Yeah,” Sunoo shrugs. “You’d be obsessing. Unable to stay away. Your senses would go crazy. You’d feel everything they feel, more or less.”

Jay slowly turns to look at Heeseung. Heeseung immediately avoids his gaze. That fucker is always eager to catch his ‘Gotcha!’ moment, it irritates him to the core.

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he says a bit too quickly, the lie tasting acidic on his tongue.

Sunoo mustn't know about the knot of uneasiness in his chest. Sunoo mustn’t know about the face that comes to his mind when he’s kissing someone else. None of his friends must know that he’s obsessing right now, itching to flee and find you in the middle of the night.

“Exactly,” Sunoo nods, unaware of his friend’s turmoil. “So relax. I’ll look into it more, yeah? Might be some weird hormonal response or delayed imprint reaction.”

Heeseung lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, okay.”

“Or you can do a try-and-error,” Sunoo suggests, reaching over to pat Heeseung’s shoulder. “Just do what you always do—try hooking up with different omegas. Maybe the one you made out with tonight was just a bad compatibility for you.”

Heeseung perks up at that. Sunoo and Jay, not noticing the shift in the air, are already moving forward with a different topic, completely oblivious to the newly-lit determination now burning up his body.

Just do what you always do.

Right. Heeseung has a high body count for a reason. He decides, with a final resolution, that he should solve this his own way.

If Heeseung spends every night for the next two weeks trying to bed different omegas, Sunoo and Jay don’t have to know.

If Heeseung fails each time, unable to enjoy every kiss and friction, Sunoo and Jay don't have to know.

If the pain in his chest worsens every time he leaves the barely-warm beds, Sunoo and Jay don’t have to know.

If Heeseung avoids looking at you, avoids bumping into you, avoids speaking to you—he hopes you don’t know about it.

A quiet voice from his wolf whispers something that he refuses to acknowledge: He hopes you’ll forgive him for being unfaithful.

You’ve been sick for two weeks. 

At first it was subtle, like a faint throb in your heart that makes you stop whatever you’re doing. The first time it happened, you were in the middle of a group discussion for an elective subject. 

A quiet alpha, or a wolf hybrid named Sunghoon, to be exact, had noticed the way you winced from the pain. He didn’t say anything, but you guessed he told an omega about what he saw because right before you exited the library, one of the girls had passed you a free menstrual pad.

He thought you were experiencing period cramps. You wished it was just period cramps.

Then, it gradually grew to something worse. A sudden stabbing pain in your chest. A twist in your gut, like you were expecting something bad to happen. Sometimes it was random palpitations, where your heart was skipping huge beats, as if you were about to go down on a roller coaster.

Each time it happened, you only placed your palm over your heart, hoping it’d go away. You never understood why, but those pains only came at night, preventing you from getting any good sleep and rest. And each time you tried to close your eyes, there was only one face flashing behind your eyelids.

Heeseung.

Yujin had dragged you to the clinic, but the doctor came to a conclusion that you were just having pre-heat symptoms—which couldn’t be further from the truth, because you just had your cycle one month ago. You’re not supposed to go on your quarterly-cycle of torture for another two months.

“Oh my Goddess, you’re burning up.” Yujin’s palm is cold against your forehead. Her face is pulled into a tight expression. “Let’s just skip today’s classes, okay? I’ll stay with you.”

You weakly nod, barely registering Yujin’s movement around the room. Your body feels like a furnace, the heat simmering in your veins almost rivaling a volcano’s lava. You discard the blanket to get some sort of relief, only to shiver in the cold when the air touches your skin.

After a few minutes of exiting and entering your room, Yujin finally sits by your bed. She helps you with a glass of water and a dosage of paracetamol, careful to wipe any loose drops like a concerned mother. It doesn’t get better, but at least your throat doesn’t feel like it’s being scrubbed with sandpaper anymore.

“How’re you feeling now?”

“Dying, but a bit less dramatic.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to give Suho from True Beauty a run for his money, would we?”

You chuckle softly, though it sounds more like a seal with a sore throat.

“But seriously, though. It’s been two weeks.” Yujin purses her lips, the worriness still marring her beautiful face. “I’m so worried, Y/N. What’s happening to you?”

You don’t answer right away. “It’s my omega.”

Yujin’s eyebrow jumps. “What about her?”

You also wonder the same thing. Swallowing, you finally let your friend in on the torturous days you have been going through. “One night, after our practice ran quite late two weeks ago, she went a bit hysteric. I couldn’t stop vomiting.” You recalled, eyes distant in memory. “She kept yelling something about a traitor, about rejection. I don’t know, really. But that’s how it started.”

“Two weeks ago, at night, you say?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Yujin is quiet for a few extended minutes, caressing her thumb over your knuckles. The motion puts you at ease, and slowly, you feel the pills begin working their chemicals.

“Did you, perhaps, hear about anything that happened that night?” You shake your head, unsure if your cheerleader squad had mentioned anything. Yujin hums. “Because I think I did.”

“What?”

“So I’m friends with this one omega named Sunoo from my faculty. A pretty boy and a petty gossiper.” Yujin starts, now treading her words slowly as if walking on eggshells. “He knows everyone on this campus. Especially the hot stuff, you know—student body, athletes, cheerleaders.” Yujin eyes you but not unkindly. “He knows you too. Just the basic stuff.”

“Like?”

“Your name, your major, your Instagram account.”

You let out a breath, a bit unsure where this is heading, but listen anyway. “Okay.”

“And because of his impeccable knowledge of gossip, I heard from him about a cheerleader breaking down in the group chat after a certain alpha left her mid-making out, all slicked and horny while he didn’t even pop a borner.”

You hold onto her every word, but for some reason, a dread has settled deep in your bones, like your body is already anticipating some bad news. Your heart, previously beating fast, is now sprinting like it might escape your rib now.

“And that alpha was Heeseung.”

It hits before you can even think.

A sharp, twisting pain lances through your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs like you’ve been struck. Your fingers curl into the sheets, clutching at nothing.

Your omega whines—hurt, betrayed. And suddenly, you understand why. The cries about betrayal. His face haunts you every night, like a painful reminder of the destiny you're subjected to.

You try to swallow once, then twice, before you find your voice back.

“Heeseung?” You try. His name now tastes bitter on your tongue.

Yujin, ever the empathetic, senses it, and tightens her hold on your hand. “Yeah,” she nods. She lets a moment of quiet pass, fidgeting and swallowing like you. Like the news has more stories that she’s yet to tell; an extended part to a nightmare that’s been keeping you up at night. You brace yourself.

“And two nights ago I saw him at Jake’s frat party with a girl. Doing sexy stuff. The usual.” Yujin can’t look at your face, choosing to stare at your intertwined hands instead. “The frat boys told me that he’s been at it almost every night. For two weeks.”

Is it possible to hurt someone this much in a span of five minutes? Getting shot multiple times would’ve hurt less than this.

There’s a heavy silence, then there’s your small, quiet voice, laced with unfiltered hurt.

“What does this have to do with me?”

“I’m saying, Y/N, that you might be facing bond rejection symptoms right now.” Yujin licks her lips. “I’m saying that you and Heeseung just might be fated mates. That night he scented you? You guys conjured a half-bond. And him fucking around with other omegas like this hurts your wolf because she knows—only this kind of bond can do that.”

Is having a fated mate supposed to hurt like this? Like your chest is caving in, collapsing under the torment of unwanted love. Can you even call it love? Whatever it is that you and Heeseung unknowingly have been sharing—Is it even love?

It’s not. It’s just…fate.

You shake your head. There’s hot pain behind your eyes, a sign of an impending doom. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s okay. It’s a lot to take in.”

A drop of tears rolls down your face and in the next blink, everything is already blurry. “I—I think I already knew it.” Your voice is wet from despair, the pain almost feels tangible.  “He never meets my eyes anymore and—and every time I see him, I feel like I might die.”

A warm pair of arms pulls you close, and instantly the scent of green tea fills up your senses. Your roommate holds you tight, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck as you sob into her chest. 

Your wolf, the contradict that she is, hopes that it was Heeseung embracing you. Still hoping it was the alpha comforting you, soothing you with his voice and that calming pheromones of his. Still foolishly longing for him despite everything.

You feel pathetic.

Your crying subsides after a while, still curling up against Yujin like a hurt puppy. You’re already losing track of time, if it’s still proper to have breakfast or if it’s already time for lunch. It is Yujin who finally speaks first.

“Do you hate it?”

You let the question linger in the air, turning it over in your thoughts like what you’ve been doing the past hour since you woke up. “I don’t hate the bond. Nor him.”

You pause, gnawing at your lower lip. Then you exhale.

“I just hate that I was never given a chance to do this properly.”

Yujin pulls away and makes you face her. She wipes your tears using her sleeves, murmuring sweet words as you feel your chest slightly loosening at her kind gesture. “You might still have it. Go and talk to him, Y/N. If he’s avoiding you like this, he might’ve felt something too, right?”

“If he’s avoiding me like this, he might just not want anything to do with me.” A humourless chuckle escapes your lips. “And to think that I thought I had a chance.”

“Wait, I never asked you this. Do you like Heeseung? Both of you; your wolf and you.”

You don’t answer right away. The question sits between the two of you, heavy and fragile; like a mark refusing to be looked over. 

Do you like Heeseung?

Your wolf stirs immediately. Yes, I like him.

The answer is quick. Certain. Definite. 

But you purse your lips, forcing yourself to think harder, deeper. Forcing yourself to think about you, not her. You can only come to one conclusion.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, honest. It sounds weak even to your ears. Beside you, Yujin keeps rubbing small, grounding circles over your hand.

“I already know my omega likes him,” you admit softly. “She decided that the moment he stayed and took care of me that night.”

Oh, how pathetic is it to fall for someone for doing something as mundane as staying and taking care of you?

It’s laughable. But it makes your chest ache even more, like your heart was an empty can and fate was crushing it with its tight grip.

“But me…” you continue, voice quieter now, “I don’t even know him like that.”

You shake your head, frustration flickering through your expression.

“I don’t know what he’s like when he’s not surrounded by people, or when he’s not—” you gesture vaguely, like you can scoop up every rumour tied to his name. “That version of him everyone talks about.”

You stare at your hands. “But I wanted to.”

Yujin follows, voice soft. “Wanted to?”

“I wanted to get to know him,” you continue, voice trembling. “When I first found out how my wolf feels for him, I thought it could be like how I’ve always imagined having a fated mate would be: slowly falling in love with them. With him.”

A wistful smile graces your beautiful features, soft and vulnerable. “I wanted to know which game he remembers the most. I wanted to know if the number on his jersey means anything. Silly things like that. Not this.”

Your hand moves to your chest unconsciously, rubbing the surface softly.

“Not like this. Not when it hurts every time I—” you cut yourself off, breath shaking. “Not when it hurts every time I look at him.”

You still remember, after one grueling routine, when the pain was still kind enough to let you come to practice. The players had just finished their practice too, slicked with sweat and looking exhausted as ever. Among the tired alphas, your eyes locked onto Heeseung’s.

You had the instincts to go to him and pass him the cold mineral you’d unknowingly saved for him. But the look in his eyes—it was unreadable. Cold. An abyss that was enough to make you stay rooted in your place.

Then, without even a graze of a smile, he looked away, taking a bottle from Riki’s hand.

It had hurt more than you’d like to admit.

“I think…” you try again, more carefully this time. “If things were different, I would’ve liked him.”

Your throat tightens. This time, you’re reminded of that night before everything turned cruel like this. The warmth of his embrace that lingered. The spice of his scent that clung. The safety of his company that comforted you. 

Was any of it real?

“And if things were the same…I think I would've still liked him anyway.”

That’s the truth. A quiet, terrifying truth that settles deep in your chest like an unshakeable ground. The kind of truth that makes even your most grounding friend sit still in your bed.

“And that’s what makes it worse,” you whisper.

Because now it’s not just your omega.

It’s you, too.

The one-week intervarsity basketball tournament has finally begun. Around seven universities have sent their representatives, leading to a flood of humans in different-coloured jerseys wandering around on your campus, its official host. 

You’re excused from the whole week’s classes, seeing your cheerleaders and bunches of alphas more than you have ever seen your classmates since the tournament started. It was exciting at first, to participate in such a prestigious tournament that is always the talk of town. But the tight schedules between games is becoming more taxing and demanding.

It doesn’t help that the bond rejection symptoms have only gotten worse, hindering you from giving your best potential at each routine. Which, of course, catches the attention of your captain, and she’s not very amused with it.

“Y/N. If you’re not telling me what is wrong with you, then don’t make me find excuses to put you on the bleachers.” Narin once whispered to you on the third day of the tournament. You merely nodded, trying hard not to scrunch your noise at the sour smell of bubblegum and burnt cotton candy. She eyed you up and down, before she scoffed.

“Don’t get too butt-hurt that Heeseung’s fucking other cheerleaders,” she grunted. You froze. “At least you got your round that night. He fucking rejected me.”

What? The confusion must be clear on your face, because then Narin rolled her eyes, fixing the blue ribbon in her hair before she turned to face you.

“You smelled like him for weeks, Y/N. Don’t think people didn’t know that you two fucked after they won against that eastern university that night.” And then she left, leaving a dumbfounded you in the hallway, standing still like a lifeless statue.

Realisation starts settling in. Did people think you and Heeseung—fuck. You should’ve known.

No wonder many eyes were on you during those days when you still smelled like Heeseung.  You thought it was just because Heeseung was one of the most sought after alphas on campus. Not this. Not whatever allegation this is.

Still, the bomb Narin had dropped wasn’t enough to stop yourself from pushing yourself past your limits. You don’t even know what your limits are anymore. They seem to keep expanding with every new pain that blooms in your chest. 

You’re still a bit sluggish, but at least Narin is off your back. Whatever bitterness she harbours for you, though not forgotten, is at least tamed on the last day of the tournament.

You knew she wouldn’t understand, but you couldn’t help it if the pain worsens. You wish, for once, that Heeseung would take it slow with the cheerleaders from the opposing teams. Because the pain has become unbearable; cracks turning into holes of emptiness in your heart, faint pulsing turning into straight-up invisible stabbing in your gut. You’re actually surprised that you’re not already bleeding from how real it has felt.

However, deep down, there’s a small, barely-there gratitude for Heeseung for not doing it in front of you. At least you can spare yourself from whatever possible torment this fate has destined for you to face if you had to watch Heeseung fucking another omega in the empty locker room.

But you guess it’s time you finally, actually reach your limit, and your body can’t seem to be more dramatic to choose the last game as its last straw. As Heeseung hoops in the last score for the team, sealing their title as the champion, the audience erupts into the loudest cheer you’ve ever heard. You quickly get to your feet to perform the celebratory routine, but the world is spinning and your head is light when you stand up. You stagger backwards.

“Oh my Goddess, are you alright?” One of your cheerleader friends catches you in her arms, shaking you out of your pained daze. 

“I…” you cough, your voice only scratching at your throat. “I just need to. Sit. Yeah. I need to sit down and talk to Heeseung.”

“Heeseung?” The girl, who you finally recognise as Rei, looks over at the center of the court, where almost the whole school is hooting and hollering in joy. “Wait—let me sit you down first. You’re pale as hell, damn.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you’re finally seated. Rei has passed you a bottle of mineral water and fans you with her pink hand-fan. She stays by your side, looking after you as the rest of the world celebrates the first champion of your university team. You’re painfully grateful to her for it.

“Hey. Can I call one of your friends? Or maybe, do you have an alpha I can contact?” Rei starts when you’re not speaking, too focused on not focusing on the pain to remember to talk. “You asked for Heeseung just now. Is he your alpha?”

Is he?

You wish you knew the answer to that too.

Instead, you shake your head. “He’s not my alpha. I just…need to have a few words with him.”

Rei purses her lips, clearly not pleased with your priority at the moment but obliges anyway. “Alright. Let me text my cousin real quick.” She says, already rummaging inside her bag for her phone.

Her statement intrigues you. “Cousin?”

“Nishimura Riki. And he’s not replying. Gimme a sec.” You watch as Rei presses the call button on her phone and puts the device over her ear. You follow her line of sight as she turns to look at the court again. The crowd hasn’t calmed down from the high of the win yet.

“Hello, adopted fuck. I need you to read my text ASAP—Nobody’s stealing your girlfriend, Riki! You can go back to kissing her face after you read my text—Okay, okay! My friend, Y/N, needs to talk to Heeseung. President-level urgent.” Rei pauses, taking a quick look at you before she continues. “Yes. It seems very important. Just get his ass here fast. Yeah—Congrats, by the way. I’m not buying you that Chrome Hearts chain. Bye.”

Rei sighs as she pockets her phone. “Heeseung will be here in five minutes. You good? Do you still need anything? I feel like I should call someone else. You’re friends with Ahn Yujin, aren’t you?” She rambles on. For someone who barely speaks to you, Rei sure is a caring omega.

You give her a small smile.”I’m alright, Rei. I’ll rest after seeing him.”

Rei hums, checking her phone when it vibrates. “Aight, if you say so. I’ll be around here until they move to celebrate at Jake’s frat tonight.” She gathers her stuff and stands up, brushing her pleated skirt with practiced elegance that you know is instilled in every cheerleader’s demeanour.

“You take care of yourself. And I better not see you at the party.”

“Thank you, Rei.” You wave at her and watch as the lines of her frame get smaller, disappearing into the crowd. 

Now alone, the weight of reality is finally hitting you square in the chest. You curse, pulling your hair when you realise your stupid, impulsive decision, made in the whim of desperation to get the pain go away.

“This is stupid,” you whisper. Without thinking further, you grab your bag and stand to leave. But before you can flee the scene, a heavy presence with the familiar scent of spicy cinnamon and salty sea breeze drifts into your senses.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name leaving his lips has locked you in place. The haunting familiarity of his voice, one that follows you into your restless sleeps and every waking hour, engulfs you almost like the night he held you in his arms.

Except this time, there’s a piercing pain in your heart that comes with his presence. A dull, throbbing ache that’s been a constant company to you, manifested into the shape of the man that your wolf yearns for.

Lee Heeseung.

“Y/N?” He repeats, but you don’t dare to face him just yet. “Riki said you wanted to, uh, talk to me.”

Licking your dry lips, you turn to Heeseung, and the sight has almost rendered you breathless.

Heeseung’s still wearing his jersey, standing tall to his height like he’s dominating the air around him. His burgundy hair looks softer under the light, some small strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. His shoulders are squared up, still lined with pride and the high from winning the tournament. He looks at you calmly, but the edges of his eyes are somewhat gentler; if the lights weren’t tricking your eyes.

You gulp, already losing the battle before it has even started. Why does he have to look so handsome?

You force yourself to say something. “Yeah. I did. I mean, I do. It’s important. I think.”

Heeseung is patient. If your nervousness is something unusual to him, he doesn’t comment on it. After all, you’re indeed known as a shy girl among the cheerleaders.

“I’m…I’m going straight to the point and be honest with you.” Is this really happening? You’re scared that if you were to speak more, your heart might leap out of your mouth from how hard it is pumping behind your ribs. You hold your bag tighter, trying to ground yourself.

“I’m listening,” he hums.

The words are simple. His voice is calm. Too calm, like he’s unaffected, like he doesn’t have a clue about what you’re about to say. It almost makes you falter.

For a second, you just stare at him. At the same face your mind has been haunted for weeks, at the same eyes you’ve been avoiding because they make everything feel too real.

Except everything is actually real. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.

Your fingers curl tighter around your bag.

“Did you…feel anything?” you ask, voice smaller than you intended. “That night.”

Heeseung’s brows pull together, confused. “What do you mean?”

Your throat burns. Stop. Turn around. Leave. 

“When you helped me,” you stubbornly continue, ignoring the self-preservation act your wolf’s pulling. “When you scented me. Did you feel something? Anything?”

There’s a shift in the air. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Heeseung’s shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens a fraction. A flash of something that leaves your heart hopeful crosses his face, but it leaves as soon as it comes.

“I was just helping you,” he finally says, almost too quickly. “You were in a bad state.”

The ache in your chest pulses, turning alive with each passing second.

“I know that,” you nod, almost too fast, the throbbing in your head comes back. The headache is well-guaranteed after this, you’re sure of it. “I know. I’m not saying you did anything wrong. I just—I just need to know if you felt it too.”

“Felt what?”

You stare at him. God, he’s really making you say it. Is he truly clueless or is he playing with you? Whatever he is trying to do, he’s succeeding at making you feel smaller and…desperate.

“The pull,” you whisper after a while, “the connection.”

Silent stretches between the two of you. Heeseung returns your gaze, but his black eyes reveal nothing about his thoughts. 

You try again. “You felt it too…right?”

There it is. For a fleeting second, you think you see it. That flicker in his eyes. The subtle hesitation. The twitch in his jaw. It almost makes you feel hopeful.

Heeseung exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N,” he starts slower this time, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “There’s no such thing as that.”

If your heart was made of lead, you’re sure it’d clang to the floor so loud for how fast it drops.

“What?”

“Fated mates. Bond. Whatever you’re thinking.” He shakes his head, like he’s making a show of how ridiculous you sound. “That’s not real.”

The cracks finally shatter, allowing a big, gaping hole filled with utter anguish to take place in where your heart used to reside. Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens. 

“But—” you try, voice undeniably trembling now. “Then, what is this?”

Your hand presses weakly against your chest.

“Why does it hurt like this? Why does,” your voice cracks, your omega thrashing wildly inside you, “why does it hurt so much?”

For a split second, panic flashes across his face. There’s a change in his scent. A sharp, biting spice that’s stinging your nose and thick, briny salt that leaves your throat itchy. 

Because he knows. He knows this isn’t normal. He knows how he almost went psychosis the moment it happened to him three weeks ago. 

But Heeseung’s always been good at leaving—it’s the one thing that’s been keeping his heart in a safe chest without any chances of getting hurt. It’s almost cruel that he never really cares if leaving right after sex would hurt any of the omegas, but he’s never felt bad enough to stop.

And you feel like someone who will make him stay.

So he does what he knows best.

“It’s in your head,” he says, firmer now. “Probably just your heat cycle messing with you. Or stress.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, your chest feels hollow. Your omega, previously hysterical and angry, is now awfully quiet and wounded.

Right. It’s just stress, he said.

You wish it was just stress.

“Oh,” is the only word you can utter. Heeseung nods, as if convincing himself too, and takes a step back.

But for you, it feels too much like a line being drawn.

“Maybe you should get some rest. You look kind of pale,” he suggests, though his voice is slowly getting small the longer he watches the changes in your expression. You’re not looking at him now, just staring at your feet with trembling fists.

The wilting flowers are back in his senses, filling up his nose and beating at his heart like a bat. Heeseung bites his lips, swallowing down the guilt. 

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

The sight of his retreating back…why is it so blurry?

“You are so fucking stupid, Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s always wondered how his best friend’s citrusy pheromones are going to smell like when he’s mad. Because Jay never gets mad at him. His friend has so much patience that every playful banter always stays as just a playful banter.

But tonight, Heeseung finally senses it. Jay smells bitter, like overripe lemon left too long in hot water. There’s a sharp, metallic tang to it too, representing the control that he’s trying so hard to keep in check. In response to the alpha’s irritated scent, Heeseung’s dominant wolf is itching to draw his claws out, sensing it as a threat.

They’re standing at the backyard of the frat house, where the pool is glowing blue and the night sky is blinking stars. It’s quieter here, with less people hanging around. Many guests have preferred to dance inside, still in celebration mode post-winning.

“What the fuck were you thinking, trying to get into someone else’s pants right after her—her confession?” Jay scoffs in disbelief. He has his back facing Heeseung, the tense muscle of his shoulders visible through the outline of his Polo shirt. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, looks more disheveled. The collar of his shirt is misplaced, and there are faint lipstick marks staining his neck and the corner of his mouth. Jay had heard from Riki about what happened between Heeseung and you and the alpha was determined to drag Heeseung out of the bedroom, not before muttering a small apology to the omega he was with. It was all shouts and aggressive whispers between the two alphas until Riki managed to shoo them out.

Which brings them to this moment, where Jay is a ticking bomb and Heeseung is trying his best to calm down.  Jay didn’t exactly know who she was, just that he’d seen her face among the cheerleaders. While Heeseung, well, he’s too worked up to explain.

“Confession? What made you think—”

“You guys are fated mates, Heeseung. Can’t you fucking see it?” Jay whips his head around. “This pull you’re feeling is because you guys are fated mates. There’s no other explanation to it.”

Heeseung clenches his jaw. “Those things don’t exist, Jongseong. Not to me.”

“Oh, come on. Then explain your sex problem.” Jay hisses, his eyes turning sharper. “You think I don’t know that you still can’t get your dick wet with other omegas?”

The burgundy-haired alpha doesn’t blink. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is when she could’ve died!” Jay snaps, his scent flaring with his nose. Heeseung grits his teeth, feeling challenged. 

Then, softer, like vulnerability leaking through his anger, Jay continues: “You could’ve died, Heeseung.”

Heeseung stills. “What?”

Jay lets out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think so little of this matter, don’t you?” His voice drops, tight and furious. “A half-bond between fated mates when left too long can cause death. And with the speed you’re going with all these nameless omegas, I bet it’ll be her turn to die first.”

Heeseung scoffs, but it’s weaker now. There’s a new fear settling in his chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No,” Jay cuts in sharply. “You’re being stupid. I saw her just now. She’s pale as fuck.”

Heeseung’s quiet for a moment, staring into his friend’s eyes with almost the same amount of resentment. “It has nothing to do with me.”

Like a punishment to his lie, something twists sharply in his chest. But Heeseung is quick to mask his pain under a calm facade, gritting his teeth so hard he might break his jaw. Jay scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, so you’re doing this again.” Jay steps closer, not backing away. “You’re running away again, like the coward that you are. You’ll just run and run, deflect and disappear. Typical Heeseung.”

Jay knows he’ll hit a spot if he says it, but he couldn’t care less. He watches as the expression on Heeseung hardens, giving away the emotions he kept locked in his chest.

“Don’t.”

But Jay doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t.

“You think I don’t see it?” Jay presses, voice rising. “Every time something starts to mean something, you bolt. New omega, new bed, new distraction—anything to avoid actually feeling something real.”

“That’s not—”

“That’s exactly what this is!” Jay gestures wildly, frustration spilling over. “You found your mate, and instead of dealing with it, you’re out there fucking anything that moves just to prove you’re still in control.”

Silence slams between them, heavy and ugly. Both alphas are holding back from spiraling, neck straining from self-control and simmering anger.

Heeseung’s laugh this time is cold. “Mate?” he repeats, like the word tastes disgusting. “You really believe in that shit?”

Jay stares at him, disbelief flickering across his face. “I believe in what’s right in front of me.”

“There’s nothing in front of you,” Heeseung shoots back. “She’s just an omega I helped. That’s it.”

“Then why her?” Jay fires immediately. “Why can you find her in a crowd? Why does your scent stick to her for days—for weeks? Why can’t you even touch another omega without looking like you’re about to throw up?”

Heeseung falters, his words failing him as Jay hits him with those facts. His shaky stance doesn’t go unnoticed by the alpha, though. He’s quick to seize the chance.

Jay inhales sharply. “You know I’m right, Heeseung. You and Y/N share a bond.”

“So what?!” Heeseung snaps, frustration finally cracking through. “So what if there’s a bond? You want me to just—what? Drop everything? Play house? Act like I’m suddenly someone I’m not?”

Heeseung meets Jay’s fiery gaze head-on and shoves his friend harshly. “Stay out of it, Jay. I swear to fucking God.”

“And what? Watch you let her die because you couldn’t care less to acknowledge the bond?” Jay lets out a hollow laugh, pushing Heeseung back just as hard. “And then I watch you die?”

“Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about this.”

Their scents clash; sharp citrus and aggressive spice filling up the space like a warning siren. It almost turns physical, Riki almost bursts through the door when he sees their chests almost touching. But it is Jay who stops first.

Not because he wants to. But because he’s thinking of you.

“My parents are fated mates, Heeseung.” Jay starts, quieter, his voice losing its harsh edges. “Doesn’t mean you don’t believe in it, it isn’t real to other people.”

Heeseung remains quiet, his chest still moving rapidly.

Jay’s eyes turn glassy. He retreats one more step away from Heeseung. “If you don’t want her, reject the bond properly,” he says, breathing hard. “You’re letting someone know that you don’t want her as your mate. At least have the decency to be kind about it.”

Jay unclenches his fists.

“Don’t drag her through this half-assed bullshit where you keep hurting her just because you can’t make a decision.”

Heeseung freezes. Out of all words being shouted tonight, it is this quiet resignation from Jay that hits his heart the hardest.

Am I being cruel? Heeseung lowers his gaze. Am I a coward?

Heeseung doesn’t wait too long for an answer.

“Stop being a coward, Heeseung. I beg you.”

The words hang between them, like unwanted vines curling around a trunk of a tree. Heeseung’s gaze stays rooted to the ground, trying to find his voice.

But he doesn’t get the chance to.

“...Heeseung?”

Your voice, soft as it is, cuts through the air like a blade. Both alphas turn to where you’re standing by the door. The faint light spilling from the moon only highlights how pale your face is, void of any warmth and colour.

You stand there, one hand gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, your other pressed weakly against your chest. Your eyes, God, your eyes. They’re glassy, unfocused, yet locked onto him like you’ve found something you’ve been searching for your entire life.

Beside him, Heeseung can sense the way Jay’s body tenses the way his does.

“Heeseung…” you call for him again and move to get closer.

But then you flinch. Your entire body recoils, your nose scrunches. 

There, lingering around Heeseung like an unwanted mark, is a scent you know too well. Fruity bubblegum and cloying cotton candy; a scent that flashes pink in your head, turning into a female rage that hits too close to home. Your gaze catches the shape of someone’s mouth staining his golden skin, and something inside you breaks.

Narin.

Heeseung smells like Narin.

Your hand instinctively goes to cover your nose, eyes slowly going wide. The room goes silent, holding its breath as Heeseung feels it. 

The fleeting second where something inside you shatters.

Heeseung steps forward. “Y/N—”

But you retreat faster, away from him like he’s a disease that could kill you. 

“No,” your voice cracks, shaking your head as if trying to physically deny what your body is already registering. “No, no, no…”

Your breath comes out in shallow bursts, your fingers clawing at your shirt. 

It hurts. It hurts so bad. 

It’s like every system in your body is collapsing, failing to cope with the ultimate rejection that comes in the scent of another woman. Your fist hits your chest, forcing the air to flow in because it suddenly feels almost impossible to breathe.

Heeseung feels it now—really, really feels it. The bond is thrashing, frantic, like it’s holding onto something that’s slipping through its grasp. The pained scent of withering daisies starts filling up the air, suffocating both alphas instantly. Jay shifts uncomfortably, looking back and forth from Heeseung to you in alert.

“Hey, hey—Y/N,” Heeseung tries again, softer this time, reaching out instinctively. “Look at me. Y/N—”

“Don’t!” Your voice spikes, sharp with fear. Heeseung freezes, his throat closing up when he sees something you’re yet to realise.

That’s when you feel it—something warm trickling down your nose. You instinctively wipe it and stare at the red liquid smearing your fingers.

Blood. Then another drop falls on your palm. Before you can react properly, it already spills down your chin, past your fingers, dripping onto the floor, tainting the white tiles like a crime scene.

“Fuck.” Jay curses under his breath, his wolf perking up in alarm.

Beside him, Heeseung is beyond agitated. “Y/N!”

He doesn’t think. Heeseung lunges forward, longing to be close to you at that moment. But you’re already shaking your head rapidly, tears spilling uncontrollably now.

“Stop!” you gasp, pale lips trembling like dying petals. “I can’t do this—I can’t—”

Inside you, your omega is screaming in pain. In betrayal. In self-preservation. Her voice, raw and jagged, torn by pain, echoes in your head. 

An instinct, primal and desperate, takes over your being.

Cut it off.

Cut it off before it kills you.

You clutch at your chest, lungs burning up like a wildfire. Tears spill out freely, drenching your face in anguish and agony.

Cut it off!

And finally, you let go.

Across from you, just a few paces away, Heeseung feels it like a force, stopping him in his tracks.

It doesn’t come gradually, or slowly. It rips through his body. A violent, invisible force tearing straight through his chest like something sacred being forcibly severed. His breath is knocked out of him.

“Fuck!” Somewhere behind him, Jay is also spiraling, realising what’s going down.

But Heeseung doesn’t know. He staggers, his knees almost giving up as excruciating pain spreads from the scent gland in his neck down to his chest. Something inside him—something he never fully acknowledges—finally snaps. He almost screams.

A thick veil of tears wells up instantly, blurring his vision faster than he could process it.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks, the cracks showing up like poison in daggers. Across from him, you’re already sobbing.

It’s loud and raw, a wailing that stops even the loud music from inside. Your scent, bitter and beyond distressed, is now flooding the space like a broken dam. Your body folds in on itself as if trying to contain something that’s already shattered beyond repair.

Inside of you, your omega goes silent completely.

And it terrifies him. A lot. 

Heeseung clutches his neck, where his scent gland is pulsing violently, throbbing in an indescribable pain that feels like it could kill him. And when his eyes find yours, he realises with dread that the pull is no longer there. 

He can’t feel you. His wolf can’t feel your wolf.

The constant, aching thread that’s been tying him to you; it’s gone.

You cut the bond from your side.

The half-bond, already fragile with doubt and cowardice, is hanging by its loose thread. If it was a red string like many people had said, Heeseung’s sure it’d waver pathetically by his finger, trembling like a thread losing its kite.

“What…What did you do?” he whispers, voice hollow and shaky.

Heeseung takes a step forward again, ignoring Jay’s warning voice from behind him. His focus becomes singular on you, not minding the many pairs of eyes watching from the other side of the door.

This time, his step is slower and careful, like approaching something fragile. Something that is already broken.

Someone wounded.

You don’t move toward him. You don’t even spare him a look. You just cry, quietly, as now it feels empty where the bond used to be. You can’t feel him. 

You can only feel pain.

“Y/N…”

“...I want to leave.”

You wipe your nose, the blood still fresh and wet. You lean on the door for support, still trying to hold yourself up despite the urge to just collapse. Heeseung has to force restraint on himself, holding himself back from running to you. He searches your face, trying to catch your eyes, terrified beyond reason.

The silence is deafening.

At last, you lift your gaze, misty eyes meeting misty eyes.

“I ended it.” Your voice, used to be soft and warm, is now cold. Heeseung feels his lungs stop functioning.

“There’s nothing between us anymore.”

And that’s when it hits him brutally.

Heeseung didn’t just push you away.

He’s lost you.

sorry for the cliffhanger! part 2 coming soon 🔜

dividers from: @cursed-carmine 🤎

perm taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll

fic taglist: @twocupsofsuga @rayofsunshineeee @all4moi @cutehoons02 @barbiecuedotcom @vmpiricou @kitteaasstuff @sosocide @lhspeachie @sooooobean @bingka @yenienha

[simjakedly]

oh my thank you for 3k!!! love you all sm 🥹🫶🏼

[simjakedly]

Yk Jake being the nerd/virgin/shy persona in fanfiction just not sitting right with me. I mean the guy is a Scorpio and an artist.. he deff has authority or at least a back bone. With all due respect to his love for history and science, Sim Jaeyun is waaaayyy too cool to be a nerd. Absoluty not deperate. Yarning yeah but our guy is super firm. Not a puppy but a BIG DAWG.

YES, JAKE IS A DAWG

i mean you’re not wrong but i still love him pathetic with no backbone 😭😭😭 if we combine my version of jake with yours we can make him a repressed needy nerd with a ticking bomb waiting for his restraint to snap and dominate reader 🤤

[simjakedly]

Okay i may be greedy but can you make the littlest oneshot for love me (k)not where rikis on his rut and he's lowk a meaner dom 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

so i got a similar request not too long ago and i promise you i’ll work on it after jay’s omegaverse is done 🤭

[unknowacczzz]

Looking for enhypen fics/au, check out these accounts!!

@eeunoia (fave author!!)

@slutofpsh (eeunoia but 18+)

@nishimmortal (text smau)

@crimswon (text smau)

@goon4hoon

@in-enha-world

@liuhsng

@mssishipi

@simjakedly

@hoonguin

@hee-cloud

[simjakedly]

so cute!! thank you for the mention 🥹🫶🏼

[wonmuse]

SMAU ━━ RATING MY GUY FRIENDS

sᴍᴀᴜ 𓂃 rating your guy friends turns into you going viral, and a few unexpected responses from them

nais calling ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted anything here and I’ve started to miss it, I’ll most likely post their individual parts later today after work

[simjakedly]

pls i love this sm 😭😭😭

[noirellee]

𝖤𝖭𝖧𝖸𝖯𝖤𝖭 ────ㅤ𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗕𝗜𝗗

• 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝓣 𝖺𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍

ㅤ﹙SMAU﹚ 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ｡ chaotic boyfriend ! enha x fem readerㅤ✶ㅤfluff humour petty arguments terminally online behaviour cursing ㅤ❛ 𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

ㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ inspired by those stupidly funny “selling my bf” tweets because i KNOW enha would crash out immediately 😭 happy reading & pls do not auction your man online !

[simjakedly]

jake buying himself back has me ctfu 😭😭😭

[simjakedly]

What do you think about people who are saying that JW being shady on Youngji's show?

jungwon was not being shady.

i think those people just never wanted to listen. if you truly listened to him you would understand that the one who wanted ot7 more than anyone was him. that’s how much he values the members. just, listen to him. without any narrative or filter just listen to what he said as it was. look at how close he was to tearing up.

he cherishes his members, all six of them so, so much. things just don’t align anymore. the six of them still wanted to continue as a group and that’s fine. heeseung wanted to pursue a solo career and that’s also fine. saying “i’d rather they disband” seems a bit heartless isn’t it, when jungwon just revealed how much they love the team and wants to last a long time?

have they ever stopped and asked if enhypen even wanted to disband? have they ever stopped thinking about their own feelings and for once, started thinking about enhypen’s? because after all, the one affected the most by this is enhypen themselves.

i think they’re underestimating the depth of friendships, especially the one with a close-knit bond like enhypen’s. we’re talking about 6 years of friendship here.

saw this on threads and thought it fits perfectly with this ask:

maybe take some time to reflect if you actually care and still love enhypen as they are now or you just only care about what YOU want and not what all seven of them want.

[simjakedly]

Read ur latest jake fic without knowing it was you, i shouldve known when my cooch started clenching. Tea as always queen 😍😍😍 fahk i love ur jake fics

LMAOOOOO i'm ctfu you guys love LOVE nerdy jake....just like me...mhm...

[simjakedly]

Can’t believe you’re feeding us with alpha jay lord I prayed for times like this

it will come but i never say when

[simjakedly]

the summer i got horny - s.jy

main masterlist

summary. nerdy sim jaeyun is sweating buckets when the baddie he's been crushing on sits in his lap on a two-hour road trip.

pairing. nerdy!jake x baddie!female reader

genre(s). oneshot, smut, big porn with a small plot

warnings. MDNI, jake is a professional yearner, jake is very shy and repressed (and a bit insecure), masturbation, pervert!jake, unprotected sex (pls don’t), subby switch!jake, top or bottom he's always a sub, reader is a bit mean, jake cries a lot and begs a lot, slight sunsunki if you squint, handjob, blowjob, nose-riding, jake eats her out as well, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary, BRO WHY IS IT NEVER-ENDING, but like it's messy, EDGING EDGING EDGINGGGG, reader calls him jaeyun, reader is jealous and possessive, implied aftercare, enhypen ensemble, hmm please let me know if i missed anything! not beta read we die like injang

word count. 14,807 words

note. oh boy! this used to be a veeeery old, 8k-word draft, my take on nerdy jake that i decided to polish and give life to. it is also a gift for my bestie and fellow jake's wife: dr. @twocupsofsuga 🫶🏼 congratulations on passing medschool! you're so smart mhm here's my lap dance for you 😏

Women make Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Especially someone as bold and confident like you.

There's something about the soft lilt of your voice that makes him feel ashamed to even speak in your presence. There's something about your enticing eyes that makes him stutter and stumble with his own words, his grammar-police persona flying out the window. There's something about the sure sway of your hips that makes him want to avert his gaze and look more all the same time; like something sinful he shouldn't want but crave for anyway.

You're the kind of woman that makes Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Park Jongseong's cousin from the States that always comes to visit for summer, with that bold show of your body that'll usually often get frowned upon in his neighbourhood, that honey tint of your skin that's far from the local society's beauty standard. You're upfront and so unapologetically you, something he admires and makes him overly conscious if his hair looks nice or not.

It's another summer and you're here again. You're always a welcome addition to their annual trip to Jay's beach house, a road trip that's usually joined by the other five plus you and him. But this year, Nishimura Riki had a last minute decision to cancel his flight to Japan and opted to spend the summer with them instead of with his family.

Which leaves all of you with no space for one person inside Jay's SUV.

"I call dibs on the rear seats," Heeseung says before anyone gets the chance to and disappears into the car. Riki opens his mouth, about to follow the eldest of the group, when Jungwon shoots him a sharp look and blocks his way with his hand.

"No, Riki. You're not getting a seat."

Riki's face morphs into horror. "What?! Am I excluded from this trip?"

"You cancelled your flight this morning. You were never included in the trip."

Seeing the look of hurt on his face, Sunoo actually takes pity on Riki. Peering inside, the blonde mumbles with a pout when he sees a small ice box sitting beside Heeseung. "Surely we can squeeze him into the rear seat, right…?"

"All of his six-feet-one ass? I'd like to see you try, Sunoo hyung." Jungwon shakes his head. He leans on the passenger door, already the assigned co-pilot of the car, in charge of Spotify playlist and Waze and moral support to his Jay hyung. "Either one of you sits in another's lap, or we can Uber Riki to the beach house."

Hearing that, Riki immediately throws his hands. "It's a two-hour drive, hyung, I might just be paying for the Uber's car loan! It's gonna be so expensive!"

"If you can afford cancelling your flight with no refunds, then I think you can afford an Uber to Sokcho."

Riki whips his head to his Sunoo and Jake hyung, jutting out his lips in a pout that's borderline pitiful. Jake mirrors his expression, not really having the power to go against Jungwon's verdict—as if anybody could. Jake pities him, really, but it's Yang Jungwon. There's a whole menace behind those cute dimples and boba eyes.

Beside him, Sunghoon lets out a long sigh. "Then one of us will have to sit in another's lap."

It's an option that has everybody darting their eyes around, afraid that any eye contact with Jungwon will make them become the sacrificial thighs for the two-hour road trip. They're all men packed with mass and muscles, a result of a gym routine that unexpectedly becomes a problem today. Each of them at least weighs one hundred-forty pounds. Jake's sure that if he was chosen, he'd lose his legs by the time they exit Seoul.

Just in time, a loud thud is heard from the car boot. You and Jay walk into the scene, just having finished loading all of their stuff into the car. Jake adjusts his glasses instinctively, unknowingly fixing his appearence when his eyes land on you.

You've abandoned your cardigan, now only wearing a yellow camisole top that only reaches your belly button and a pair of jeans shorts that ends at the bottom swell of your ass. Your outfit choice hides nothing about your figure—your perfect body that admittedly has always been on his mind.

Jake gulps and lets his eyes trail down to your legs. You're seriously one of the most beautiful and hottest girls he's ever seen, and unfortunately, he has a severe problem of having a crush on baddies who are completely out of his nerdy league. You're definitely one of them.

When he looks up, Jake almost faints when your gaze catches his eyes with an unreadable expression. He quickly averts his eyes, adjusting the thick black rims of his glasses that didn't need adjusting.

Did you notice him staring?

"Car seat problem?" Jay asks when he senses the tension among the boys, already foreseeing this issue the moment Riki told him that he was joining their road trip over the phone this morning. They hesitantly nod.

"So what's the solution?"

"Riki takes an Uber to Sokcho—"

"Which will cost him his tuition fees," Jay comments, ever the hyperbole-user.

"—Or someone has to sit in another's lap."

Judging from the expression on Jay's face, he, too, doesn't think it's a comfortable position to be sitting in on a two-hour road trip.

But apparently, someone thinks otherwise.

"Oh, then let's do that!" You pipe in, flashing them with your charming smile. "I don't mind doing it!"

There's an elephant silence that follows your statement. Upon seeing their gaped expression, your smile slowly dies down, unsure if you had said the right thing.

"…Or not."

"Or yes!" Riki interrupts, relief flooding his senses. His eyes lit up as he looks around at each one of his friends. "Guys, she's offered to sit in anyone's lap. We can do that, right?"

Jungwon narrows his eyes. "It's a two-hour drive."

Riki blinks nervously. "But noona wants it."

"Then let Y/N noona sit in your lap."

Now, there's a rosy blush blooming across Riki's cheeks. Jake frowns. Lucky bastard. "I-I mean—"

"Not him," you cut in, a small smile playing on your lips. Jake can feel the exact moment everyone holds their breath, as if the air pauses on its own accord and waits for the rest of your sentence. Either they're anticipating or dreading to be your exclusive seat in the car—he's not sure. He's certain that he's the former, but he's also certain you'd pick someone more your type—Sunghoon or Riki, who are loyal gym buddies that possess strong thighs for you to sit on—or even Heeseung who's abandoned his nap and is eavesdropping the conversation now.

He doesn't know why, but surely someone hot like you would pick someone just as hot, right? And hot in Sim Jaeyun's definition is someone who matches your confidence (not him), someone who has a good body and is not shy to show them (Jake thinks his body is nice, but he's also always wearing long-sleeves), or just anyone but him.

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. "Then who?"

When your eyes meet Jake's, the brown-haired boy almost loses his breath.

A smile curves up your lips. Jake thinks he's hallucinating because there's no way you are smirking at him.

"With Jaeyun."

There's a ripple of gasps, disbelief and shock mixing with a hint of betrayal (no doubt from Riki). Jay's brow disappears behind his hair.

"Seriously, Y/N? You don't have to—Riki's rich enough to pay for the Uber."

Riki's protest is muffled when Jungwon pulls him into a chokehold and slaps a hand over his mouth. Jake wants to pity him, really, but this time he thinks he's the one who needs help because what do you mean? There's no way—

"I'm serious. Jaeyun-ah."

—Oh my fucking God. Jaeyun. Jaeyun. Who's Jaeyun? Who the fuck is Jaeyun?

Jake has a trouble hearing you over the loud roar of his blood, heart threatening to jump out of his throat. But he manages a small, airy, 'Hm?' when all eyes are on him.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes never letting go of his, holding him hostage in your gaze alone. This, paired with the way you call his government name—a name you prefer over Jake because 'it's cuter' (according to you, not him) when he first introduced himself to you four years ago, and Jake had let you because he could never say no to you—are the most perfect, never-before-seen formula to unravel the physics genius Sim Jaeyun.

Yeah. Jake is a goner. And will soon have a boner if no one stops you from picking him as today's sacrificial thighs.

"Can I sit with you, Jaeyunnie?"

Someone please say no. Someone please stop you. Someone please tell this Jaeyun to say no because—because why him? Is this some kind of a cliché ploy that popular girls do to play with men's feelings, especially a physics nerd like him? Because if it is, Jake hates to admit that he'd be a willing participant (even if it'd break his heart a little).

"Yes, sure," he squeaks, finally recognising that Jaeyun is his name. He's still trying to process that you chose him—not Sunghoon with his ridiculous broad shoulders, or Riki with his ridiculous long legs, or Heeseung with his ridiculous charm—but him, who's sweating buckets and dampening his armpits underneath his long-sleeved T-shirt. His glasses almost glide down his nose from how sticky it is.

"It's settled, then!" Sunoo claps once, already red and irritated from having to stand under the unforgiving sun for longer than necessary. "Jake hyung and Y/N will sit together. So I will be sitting with—"

"Me!"

"Me!"

Sunoo ignores Sunghoon and Riki, and walks straight to the rear seats. "With Heeseung hyung!"

Soon, there's shuffling and then everyone's already inside the car. Riki sits in the middle with a pout, a penalty for causing the minor disruption and losing rock-paper-scissors to Sunghoon and Jake. Sunghoon is happily humming to a song from the 80s, occassionally turning around to tease Sunoo who's been trying to join Heeseung in his mandatory road-trip nap. Jay and Jungwon have settled into their designated seats as the drivers of the day, already talking about the route they're taking and traffic condition. While Jake—well, he's preparing himself for the inevitable.

You're still standing by the door, overseeing the situation at hand, and Jake tries to ignore the way his cheeks burn under your weighted gaze.

"Can I sit now?" You softly ask. Jake hesitates a moment before nodding his head frantically.

"Y-Yes."

You, on the other hand, do not hesitate at all. Jake instinctively spreads his legs when you climb into the car, already aiming his lap as your throne for the next 120-minute of the ride. His senses heighten, overly aware of his friends' eyes watching his every move, and the soft scent of peach from your body wash that invades his nose when your weight finally settles on him.

In a split second, Jake goes from never daring to touch you to having you resting your ass comfortably on his clothed dick, thanks to a certain Japanese who's now queueing songs like he didn't just commit a fatal crime against his Aussie hyung.

His slightly longer thighs bracket your exposed ones in a hesitant cage, every point of your skin meeting his seems to burn through the fabric of his jeans. Your hair and neck are one breath away from his nose now, where he's inhaling lungfuls of peaches and creams and your vanilla-ish perfume, and Jake chooses to blink at the ceiling to avoid looking over your shoulders and possibly flashing himself with the swell of your chest under that thin camisole top. The already-cramped space feels even smaller, and Jake doesn't think he can breathe properly.

While at it, Jake hopes his prayers could break through the car roof and reach the heavens.

God, please have mercy on me and let my other head not have a brain of its own.

God answers him shortly in the form of you shifting around.

"You comfortable?" You ask innocently, adjusting yourself on his lap. Jake nearly inhales his tongue, feeling blood rush to his ears and south. A strangled noise escapes his throat instead.

"Mhm."

From the front, he can hear a snort coming from none other than Jay. "You sound constipated, dude."

'Try having a pretty girl sit on your dick then!', is what Jake wishes he could say to his friend, but he knows that this is more of a him-problem. Someone like Jay won't get flustered in this kind of situation—at least not as bad as he is, who doesn't even fucking know where to put his hands, hovering in the air like he's about to conduct a choral speaking.

So, Jake resorts to conveying his rage through the rearview mirror instead, hoping that his glare and frown are enough to make Jay feel bad. (They don't, Jay finds him cute instead).

Jungwon comes to save the day as he turns to the backseat. "Do you have everything with you?" All of them except Jake hum. He thinks he doesn't have his sanity anymore, but of course the younger boy pretends to ignore him.

Jungwon eyes each one of his friends, his gaze stopping longer at the sight of Jake gripping the leather seat, the white of his knuckles almost matching his face, and you smiling innocently at him. Jungwon badly wants to laugh.

Jake widens his eyes at Jungwon. Help me!

The younger boy gives him an indecipherable look before turning to face the front. "Alright. We're not turning back for you even if you forgot your PlayStation."

Jake wants to say that they might want to leave a certain Sim Jaeyun to save him from this misery, but all words are gone from his mind when the car starts forward with a sharp jolt. Your back meets his chest in a soft thud, punching air out of his lungs. Your ass pushes deeper into his lap and Jake nearly pierces the leather with his nails from how desperately hard he's gripping it.

"Oops, sorry!" Jay chimes from the driver seat, sounding far from sorry.

You straighten up and turn around, looking more sorry than your cousin. "You okay? Sorry about that, Jaeyunnie."

Oh, fuck. Please don't use that voice on him when he's one bump away from kissing your lips. You're so close it feels like you're breathing in the same air he exhales, so close he can see the faint, tiny freckles dusting your cheeks and the bridge of your nose.

"Yeah," he manages, voice hoarse like he's just swallowed a bucket of sand. "I'm okay."

There's a halt in your movement, like you're actually seeing him through the calm façade he's exuding. His breath catches when your eyes drop to his lips briefly, the bitten-red skin tingles under your heated gaze.

Then, after a moment, you smile at him so easily; as if the tension never existed, as if the pull was only one-sided.

"If you say so."

When he's met with your shiny hair again, Jake lets out a breath he unknowlingly held. Your voice fills up the space softly as you begin talking to Jungwon and Jay, all cheery and unrestrained while he's exerting mental training equivalent to physical labour of a building constructor to stop his dick from hardening every time you move.

He hears a snicker from his left and immediately meets with Riki's mischievous eyes. The younger boy mouths something that has Jake closing his eyes and leaning on the headrest in defeat.

'Don't get horny now, Jake hyung.'

Jake is worried that if it's not now, it'll be the next time Jay hits a bump.

Instead of a road bump, Jake's personal enemy turns out to be you.

Ten minutes in, everything is still going fine. Jake is still breathing, alive, and hasn't popped a boner that could traumatise you and get him banned from the car permanently. You also seem okay, still engrossed in a conversation with the cat-duo driving the car, talking about college and your winter trip to Japan.

For a moment, Jake selfishly thinks if his lap was that…sitable, seeing as you haven't shown any signs of discomfort yet. Or, to be fair, it has been barely ten minutes since they're en route, and though those minutes are enough to pull the others into a car nap, ten minutes feel like one round of orbit around the Sun when he has you sitting on his lap.

Jake can feel himself melt into the seat. Maybe this isn't so bad at all. Maybe he can make it to Sokcho without having to cut his dick off before anyone could see his hard-on. He just has to sit really quietly and will his mind to avoid teetering dangerous territory.

Yeap. Everything is fine.

Not until you decide to put your hands on his thighs.

Jake almost jolts at the contact, flexing his thighs instinctively when you place your perfectly manicured fingers on the surface of his jeans. It's a brief touch, one that can pass as accidental, but the lingering heat it leaves behind feels almost physical.

His eyes dart to the back of your head, trembling with nerves nearly frayed at the edges, gauging your reaction, and bites the bottom of his lips when you resume your conversation as if nothing happened. Or nothing really happened to you.

It's just a touch, for God's sake. Calm your dick down.

If a simple touch from you could unravel him this fast, what about other things? What if you hug him, or-or if you hold his hand, or—wait, is he wishing for other things to happen between you and him? (He does, but he knows that it won't happen.)

Jake gulps harshly and decides to enjoy the scenery instead. He stares hard out the window, so intense like he's memorising every species of the trees they pass by, mind lost in a whirlwind of horny thoughts clashing with rationality, when you do something again.

This time, it isn't an innocent touch on his thigh. It's an innocent move to hear Jungwon better. You lean forward, pushing your ass deeper into his lap simultaneously, offering your ear to Jungwon who seems to be sharing a secret about Jay. Jake's breath hitches and his hands almost come up to hold your waist, the friction sending heat through his body.

Fuck. He peels his eyes away from the window forcefully and follows down the dip of your spine to where your ass meets his crotch. Your position highlights the narrow of your waist and the width of your hips, all sinful curves that have him swallowing harder, something inside his pants threatening to stir alive. Jake closes his eyes.

Think of Jesus, Jake. Think of Layla. He absentmindedly fixes his glasses. Think of quantum physics. Think of—

"—Oh!" You squirm excitedly, round butt wiggling slightly against his cock. "Yes, I met her before!"

Jake hisses before he can stop himself, the sound serving like a knife cutting the conversation. You and Jungwon instantly turn to look at him, the latter wearing a mischievous expression when he sees the heat painting Jake's face red.

"Are you okay?" You prompt in concern, noticing how stiffly Jake is nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah. Good. I'm horgoony."

Freudian slip is gonna be the death of him.

Jay and Jungwon burst out laughing, catching the slip as fast as any dirty-minded man would. Jake's face turns a darker shade of red, avoiding your eyes whose brows now pinching in confusion.

"Horgoony?" You echo, pretty confident you have never heard of that strange word spoken before. Jake immediately shakes his head, panic creeping into his chest when Jungwon shows a sign of opening his mouth.

No! Do not let that orange cat speak! Jungwon only cares about his downfall!

"I feel horribly good! Yeah," Jake stammers, to hell with any logical reasoning. "Like, I feel good because we're on a road trip. But also kind of horrible because I get motion sickness sometimes."

Now that the string of the sentences has flowed out of his mouth, Jake thinks he is kind of making sense. Satisfaction blooms in his chest when you nod in understanding, because two conflicting emotions—feeling good and horrible—can exist simultaneously, right? Like the way he wants to push you from his lap and hide in the deepest part of the Sokcho forest forever but also craves to just grab your hips and pull you close and have his way with you—wait stop.

What a horrible, horny, nothing-good man you are, Sim Jaeyun.

"That does sound horrible." Jake snaps out of his thoughts when he registers your voice, nodding fervently to amplify the faux pity that he's just orchestrated.

You give him a sorry look, the one where it pulls the corners of your mouth down into a frown. Jake sighs in relief. You bought it. Thank God for his smart brain.

"Yeah. I think I'm just gonna take a nap," he adds, voice turning softer when you still look at him in concern. He feels a strange need to overexplain.

"Motion sickness happens because your eyes see one thing while your inner ears and muscles feel another. If I take a nap, it'll eliminate the visual stimuli that causes the conflict…" Jake trails off, catching himself before he could go on and on and on on why humans experience motion sickness, and possibly bore you to death. He shakes his head imperceptibly. "So—yeah. I should take a nap."

To his surprise, you only give him a warm smile. "I never knew that, Jaeyun. Then what's the correlation between motion sickness and playing your phone in a moving vehicle?"

Jake blinks behind his glasses, genuinely taken aback that you're actually listening instead of zoning out halfway through his rambling.

"Oh. Um." He clears his throat. "It's kind of the same concept. Your eyes are focused on something stationary—your phone—but your body still feels the movement of the car."

You hum softly, leaning back against him slightly, prompting him to continue. Jake immediately forgets how lungs work.

"S-So your brain gets confused because the signals don't match," he continues weakly. "Your eyes tell your brain you're sitting still, but your inner ears are like, 'No, we're moving.' It's like mixed signals, and our body doesn't like mixed signals."

His ears are warming up from how true the words are to the situation he's having with you.

"And right now you're seeing my stationary body while the car's moving," you continue with a subtle tilt of your mouth, "so you're nauseous and all dizzy now, right?"

Jake almost chokes to death. Did you know about his little problem? He blinks at you rapidly, hand itching to touch his glasses in a fit of nerves.

Oh my God. He's going to die. He's going to die and Jungwon will write 'Sim Jaeyun was a smart friend, died a horny man with a dick that never went down, a standing ovation to his contribution to Seoul National University' as his headstone epitaph. You know about it so Jake is going to die!

He stumbles with his own words. "I-I mean—It's actually—"

You give him a cheeky smile. "I'm just joking with you, Jaeyun. You're probably sick because you're having me on your lap like this."

You start digging into your front pocket, frowning when it's empty. Jake holds his breath when your hands move to your back pocket, looking for whatever it is that gets you so determined and his dick so excited whenever your finger brushes against his crotch. Jake is almost blue from not breathing.

He thinks this time he's really going to die.

"Found it!"

You offer your palm to him, where two mint candies sit idly on the soft surface. Jake's chest slowly feels lighter as air rushes in, no longer collapsing under the pressure of your searching hand accidentally brushing against him moments ago. He clears his throat.

You beam at him. "These will soothe your sickness, Jaeyunnie. Please take them."

Jake studies your face.

Do you know what you're doing to him? Was everything done on purpose, or are you really oblivious to everything?

He swallows and forces a nod, taking the candies from your palm, feeling a spark of electricity in his system when his fingers brush your skin.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You turn your back on him, resuming your conversation with Jungwon and Jay. All sweet and cotton candy, unaware of the turmoil he's going through. Jake stares at the candies in his hand, a mocking sign to his misery, and heaves out a quiet sigh. He glances at his wristwatch.

It feels like two world wars had happened but it's only been twenty minutes into the drive. An hour and forty minutes of horny torture remains for Sim Jaeyun to endure, and he's not sure if he's going to survive.

He slowly closes his eyes. Maybe sleep can help with horniness, too.

It does, but only for a moment, because Jake could swear he just blinked when you tap his shoulder a few times.

Jake blinks, half-groggy and half-alert. Did he have a wet dream of you and get hard in his unconsciousness? Is that why you woke him up?

But he's met with your apologetic face instead. "I'm sorry for waking you up," you whisper, trying not to wake other boys who are fast asleep. "But my back's sore. Can I lean on you for a moment?"

In a flash, all incoherent thoughts fly out the window. Guilt starts lodging in his chest as he realises—glancing at his watch—that you've been sitting straight for one hour. Before he knows it, Jake is already nodding at you, adjusting his seat to accommodate the new position.

"Y-Yes, you can."

God, he's such a loser. The word 'no' seems to disappear from his dictionary whenever you're around.

You reward him with an appreciative smile and waste no time to turn around and lean back softly on him. The moment your back touches his chest, Jake can feel his system kick start, a chemical reaction that he can never understand no matter how hard he studies Biology.

You physically relax into his chest. "This is so much better," you sigh, a dreamy smile on your face, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Then you tilt your head upwards to glance at him. "Is this okay for you?"

Jake hopes you can't feel how fast his heart is beating through the fabric of his shirt. The brown-haired boy nods wordlessly. "More than okay."

For a moment, you just stare at him, brilliant eyes holding his in a soft gaze. It's a silent minute full of everything unspoken, rendering him speechless and even more restless because no matter how smart he is, he could never decipher the meaning behind this look you're giving him. There's something you hide that he feels like he should know, like an open secret waiting for the right time for him to catch.

This time, Jake is even sure that you can hear his heartbeat.

Then, as if that moment never happened, you close your eyes and get comfortable.

"We should sleep, Jaeyun. Don't want you to get carsick again."

You nuzzle closer and Jake holds his breath, feeling the silky strands of your hair brushing against his jaw. His hands hover, not knowing where to land, though the pinch of your waist is where he wants to hold the most. Eventually, Jake settles on his thighs, watching the difference between his veiny hands and the smooth span of your thighs.

Is he still sleeping? Is he dreaming or are you really sleeping on his chest?

It seems that sitting in his lap really tired you out, because you're fast asleep in less than five minutes. The guilt in his chest amplifies at the sight of your closed eyes, breathing evening out as sleep overtakes your being. Jake bites his lips.

He's so shameless, napping to avoid getting turned on instead of caring for your being. He’s so horrible, worrying more about his hard-on than the fact that you’ve been uncomfortable for an hour. Jake wants to cry so bad.

Jake spends the rest of the ride watching you sleep. He fixes your hair when it falls over your face, tucking it behind your ear carefully, and then smiles to himself when he sees your pout. He blocks the sunlight with his hand when it's glaring on your skin through the window, not minding letting his hand redden from the harsh light. He instinctively holds your waist at a sharp turn, firm and secure, though he lets go just as fast as if it burns, afraid that it's not a touch you'd receive had you been conscious.

Other than the carnal desire he has suppressed for you, this road trip also makes him realise the depth of the feelings he actually harbours for you. He's so doomed. He's so doomed because in what universe would a hot, sweet, popular California girl like yourself, return back the feelings of a bland, studious, quiet Korean-Aussie boy like him?

In fictions. In another lifetime. But not in Sim Jaeyun's current universe right now.

However, the Sim Jaeyun in this universe also will never know peace.

Because just as he's getting comfortable with the you-watching routine that he just recently discovered, the road has another plan for him when Jay finally, and actually, hits a bump this time.

The first bump is a mild surprise. Jake gathers it's a small bump, one that Jay overlooks while getting excited over Bon Jovi playing on the rodeo. But the aftermath brings you settling deeper into him, pressing on him in a way that has his breath hitching. Jake holds your waist on instinct.

"Oh my God, I didn't see that," Jay mutters from the front.

Jake tries to steady his breath. That's…a shock. One that shatters the soft atmosphere he created while watching you, now replaced with the same tension he's been fighting the last hour.

Jake lets go of your waist when he assumes that it's just a one-time thing. But then the bump happens again, and instead of a solid, big one—it's shaky, like they're sliding through endless, tiny jagged rocks.

"Damn bro, this road needs fixing," Jay makes another commentary. He glances at the rearview mirror. "You good, Jake?"

Jake doesn't know what to answer. "I think I am," he mumbles, voice clipped.

Is it good that you're practically bouncing in his lap, adding more pressure with almost no interval for him to recover mentally? He thinks not. But Jay doesn't have to know that.

"We're almost there," Jungwon chimes in, navigating the map. There's a shakiness in his voice that comes from the vibration caused by the bumps. "Fifteen minutes at most. We found a shorter route just now and traffic was smooth."

Fifteen minutes.

Jake thinks he might actually die in fifteen minutes.

Another bump sends your body rocking against him softly, your sleeping face scrunching for a brief second before relaxing. His grip tightens.

Fuck.

If Jay doesn't stop the car and fix this damn road himself then he's definitely going to pop a boner soon.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut when another bump rattles through the car, and then again, and again, and again until Jake can barely separate one sensation from another anymore. Until he doesn't know where he starts and where you end anymore. You shift unconsciously, settling heavier against his chest before Jay hits another bump.

This time, Jake makes a mistake of looking down at you.

He didn't notice it before, too lost in his sappy, romantic feelings for you. But right now, it's actually so damn obvious that the angle from where he sits taller than you and you lean against him, he can easily see your cleavage past the neckline of your camisole.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The road doesn't stop shaking beneath the tires, and so does his pulse as he watches your breasts bounce with every bump that comes their way. Jake averts his eyes, so stiff and so strained, but can't help letting his gaze drift back to watch the soft mounds shake.

This is bad. This is very, very bad, and Jake is nothing but a bad fucking pervert.

A particularly rough patch of road sends the entire car jolting. Your body bounces against him harder this time, more pressure and more friction that Jake almost whimpers. He tips his head back, gulping harshly as the line of his long neck glistens with a sheen of sweat.

Inside his jeans, he can feel his cock kick.

Oh, fuck—he's definitely hard now.

Oh my fucking God.

"This is the last one, promise!"

Jake doesn't even register Jay's words, or the way your head hits his jaw from impact, because his internal system is flooded with horny-filled panic. He can feel it: his dick twitching and getting semi-hard from the continuous stimulation from your bouncing. He doesn't even realise that he's now clawing at his own thighs, seeking strength that could neutralise his blooming lust, or that you are finally awake.

"Are we almost there?" You ask groggily, blissfully unaware of the raging boner forming under your ass. You sit up when the coastal view greets your blurry vision, mouth gaping in awe.

"Oh, wow!" You gasp, always excited to visit Sokcho no matter how many times you've been there. "It's beautiful as always!"

The road is smooth now, but Jake's final torture arrives in the form of you bouncing, excitedly and consciously, in his lap. You wiggle in enthusiasm, urging Jungwon to pass your phone that's been charging at the front to take some pictures and send it to the family groupchat.

"Jungwon, Jaeyun, look at those seagulls!"

Jake is seeing no seagulls. He's only seeing white hot, painful pleasure as you move in his lap, his brain dissolving into useless static. His fingers twitch, itching to grab your waist and force you to stay still, but you're so excited that he almost didn't have the heart to do it.

"Did you see that?" You lean to the window, and then shift happily when you spot kites in the sky. "We should do that too! Hey, Jay, do you think you can—"

Jake finally has had enough.

The restraint that he's been holding onto finally breaks like a taut wire getting cut. His hands snap to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, hips almost bucking up from the delicious friction alone. His lips drop to the shell of your ears, hot, ragged breath brushing the sensitive skin as his voice lowers an octave.

"Y/N," Jake licks his dry lips, the tip of his tongue peeking through. He watches with dark eyes as the hair on your neck stands straight under his unforgiving proximity.

"Stop fucking moving."

And that's the moment you feel it.

A bulge, hard and rigid and big, poking your ass from where you rest in his lap.

Oh my fucking God.

Sim Jaeyun is hard.

You freeze, breath hitching.

Neither of you dare to move. Not even your excitement of being back to your uncle's beach house, or Jay's questioning look from where you cut your sentence, can bring you to move. No.

You couldn't, not when Jake's hard dick is nudging at you right now, so tangible and unmistakably his.

The brown-haired boy is still panting in your ear, shooting tingles through your system. His grip on your waist is almost bruising, like he's trying very, very hard to hold back from overstepping lines that shouldn't be overstepped.

You hadn't meant for this to happen. Sure, Jake is fun to tease. That boy is all broken words and nervous glances whenever you're in his proximity, and it can't be helped when he blushes prettily too.

You just can't stop yourself from seeking his attention in your own way, because aside from being a pretty boy, Jake is also such a sweetheart and so, so smart. And in an age where intellligence is a scarcity, you absolutely adore smart guys.

Especially the one who isn't condescending and is actually eager to help people like him.

So, really—you hadn't meant for this to happen. Offering to become the one without a seat is a decision you made when you consider yourself to be lighter than most of the guys, but offering to sit in Jake's lap is definitely a decision born from personal bias. You kind of knew what it would cause—seeing how stiff and awkward Jake had been—but you let it go halfway through when the soreness in your back outweighs your desire to tease.

Which has now brought you to this situation.

The car's still moving like nothing happened, and the boys are slowly stirring to life one by one. Everything is normal, except for the nails digging into your waist and the deep timbre in your ear.

You swallow harshly, not daring to move. Jake is so close, so close that you can feel every movement of his chest. You sit still in his hold, trying not to wince from how hard he's gripping your hips, and how hot you find the situation is.

His dick, despite no movement is being made, only hardens further. Jake gasps almost imperceptibly, almost matching the way your breath leaves your mouth when you notice, again, just how big he is.

Fuck. Fuck, that's so hot. Sim Jaeyun is so hot and you can feel yourself slowly getting turned on.

Without any warning, as if driven by an invisible force that urges to look at him, you finally turn around.

And Jake looks absolutely wrecked.

Beads of sweat dot on his forehead, the furrow of his eyebrows showing restraint and constraint. His lips are red from how hard he's biting them, and his previously clean, smooth glasses are now fogged up and hazy. His eyes, glazed over with tamed lust, lock into yours, half-lidded and dark.

A breath catches in your throat.

This is not the Jaeyun you know.

Or, more accurately, this is not the Jaeyun he usually shows.

This is another side of him, like seeing Jake wearing short-sleeves and showing his arms for the first time. Gone are his round, puppy eyes, now replaced with this narrowed, slit gaze that makes you shiver under his heated stare. He used to be so nervous around you, and you can feel that he's nervous now, too, but his pent-up sexual frustration seems to outweigh any rational daily-Jake thoughts.

This is still Sim Jaeyun. Just a different, never-before-seen side of Sim Jaeyun.

"Are we finally there?" Riki, the last one to awaken, stretches beside the two of you. You don't even notice that the car has pulled up into the driveway of Jay's ridiculously huge beach house from how piercing Jake's gaze is holding your eyes captive now.

Jake bites his lips, the fog in his head slowly clearing up now that the car has stopped. As if snapping out of a daze, he quickly maneuvers you into Riki's lap instead, showcasing his strength that he often hides. The latter yelps at the sudden weight and grabs your waist on instinct, before Jake darts out of the car without looking back.

"Sim Jaeyun! Bring your own fucking luggage!" Jay shouts from the car boot, but the brown-haired boy has already disappeared behind the door.

You sit, stunned in silence, still frozen and unable to speak. Not until Riki nudges at you, Heeseung and Sunoo impatiently asking the both of you to move so that they can get out.

"Are you okay, noona? Is hyung okay?"

You nod. You give the youngest a strained smile as you slowly move out of his lap and out of the car, careful not to start another war of hormones.

"We're okay."

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue.

Jake is avoiding you.

It's a foreseeable aftermath. It's inevitable. But it pains you regardless.

It gets to the point where he straight up refuses sitting next to you at dinner, which raises some eyebrows and teasing from the boys. But you know better.

He is deliberately avoiding you.

It frustrates you, really. Because every summer, it is your thing with Jake to sit in silence in the morning and read at the porch, enjoying the sunrise over wordless, comfortable silence. But now he purposely sleeps in, waking up later than usual, leaving you alone in the cold of dawn, your paperback copy of The Inheritance Games left untouched on your thighs.

At movie nights, he'll be the last one to join, just to see where you sit first to avoid being near you. He'll become extra quiet when you speak, acting like the floor is more interesting than your face, not even sparing you a glance.

And your patience is wearing thin. Almost thinner than the bikini you're wearing right now.

Fine. He can ignore you all he wants, act like he didn't just pop a boner after letting you sit in his lap. He can pretend like you never affected him, pretend like nothing happened, but one thing you know is that Jake could never betray his attraction for you.

So, be fucking it. You don't care if it's petty to pick the skimpiest bikini you own today, the one in hot pink that always contours the line of your cleavage, perfectly bunching up your tits and making them look rounder. The one that you know will drive Jake crazy from how bouncy your ass looks, basically confirmed when his eyes can't seem to stop trailing after you even after you dive into the pool.

You come to the surface with a gaping mouth, letting the water slide down the lines on your body, and make no show of hiding yourself from looking straight at Jake.

That coward has the nerves to look away after staring at you like a touch-deprived teenager.

"Is Sim Jaeyun single?"

The reason why you always agree to join the all-boys road trip is because it's not exactly all-boys. There are girls who live nearby. Girls you're acquainted with from how often you follow your cousin to his beach house every summer. Spoiled rich girls whose parents come from the same tax bracket as your and Jay's family.

And one of those girls is shamelessly checking Jake out now, hungry eyes drinking in the way his wet, long-sleeved shirt sticks to his torso, outlining the faint lines of his abdomen that he never shows. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, feet-dipping while you take a break from your swim.

You narrow your eyes, an ugly spark of jealousy blooming in your chest. You don't like the implication of the question, and you absolutely hate the way she's looking at him now.

"Don't even think about it."

Your neighbour only shrugs and continues her eye-fucking. "He's so my type. So nerdy, so smart. I wonder how he'll look like without the glasses?"

You will poke her eyes before she gets the chance to. "Use your own imagination," you hiss, almost bitter when you realise that you also have barely seen him without his glasses.

Jake has sensitive eyes that react badly to contact lenses, which explains his preference for thick glasses than going out without them. Even now, when everyone is fooling around Jay's enormous pool, his thick, black-rimmed glasses perch on the bridge of his tall nose—the nose you hope you can put into good use one day.

The girl only hums, half-listening to you. She sighs dreamily. "I can't believe that I have his number."

At this point, the jealousy has turned so ugly you're actually seeing green. Or red. Or whatever that Cortis song sounds like. "You have his number?"

She finally pays attention to you. "Yeap! I asked him yesterday. I don't know what I should say to start the conversation though," she pouts, glancing back at Jake who's now sitting on the side with Sunghoon, sipping on coconut water. "Should I ask him if I can join dinner at your house tonight?"

Jake gave his number to her?

You grit your teeth. The hurt has materialised into a knife, twisting in your chest in a sharp pain disguised in jealousy. So, while Jake's been avoiding you like a fucking plague, he's been spending his time giving away his number to any curious girl? He's been talking with other girls while leaving you with radio silence, one that you didn't deserve because it was him who popped that boner?!

You are the one who's supposed to ignore him—not the other way around!

What a fucking loser.

You can't stop the bitterness from leaking through your voice when you finally speak.

"It's me and Jay that you should ask—not Sim Jaeyun. And no, you cannot join dinner at my house tonight."

You leave her dumbfounded by the pool, seething in anger that the water on your skin could steam from the heat alone. You march to the slide doors, giving Jake and Sunghoon the nastiest side-eye you could ever give when the latter calls out to you, and slam the door behind.

Whatever. Or not whatever. Sim Jaeyun is a fucking pervert and a jerk and a coward, and stupidly hot while being so oblivious to how hot he actually is. Whatever! You don't care.

You don't care that he barely speaks a word to you. You don't care that he leaves any room you walk into. You don't care that he's flirting with other girls and giving away his number willingly when you had his on default for being Jay's younger cousin, and from Jay himself at that.

The corner of your eyes burn.

You wish you didn't care.

You're ignoring Jake.

Jake knows this the moment you no longer come to the porch to read. Instead, every morning is now spent in the garden with Jungwon, tending to Jay's mom's flowers. After, you'll brew some hibiscus tea that you pluck from the garden and share it with Sunoo and Riki.

And when he walks into the kitchen to get some food, you no longer meet his eyes, or save that apple that he knows you know he likes to eat for breakfast. You let Heeseung eat all of them! It's so—so unfair, because he likes apples and you know it!

It sends Jake to the end of a cliff. Why are you suddenly being like this?

His sanity is stretching thin as he tries to work his brain. Why the sudden change? Is it because of his silence? But he's just embarrassed to face you! Or—did you find out about it?

Genuine horror floods his mind when he thinks, oh no, you must've realised how disgusting he truly is. How dirty-minded and perverted he is, that every day he has to take cold showers three times a day whenever he catches a glimpse of you.

You in your sleepwear. You in your casual shirt. You in shorts.

You in bikini.

Jake has fallen out of any point of salvation, because God, could any man get this horny just from a mere look? In the back of his mind, he knows it's the image of you sitting in his lap that ignited the beginning of his undoing, but the continuous hard-on he gets whenever he's around you is definitely, entirely on him.

And Jake, oh so sweet Jake, doesn't dare touch himself to the thought of you. No. He'd rather leave his balls blue, take cold showers every morning, every evening, and every night, and let his dick go from standing tall like a national anthem was being played to becoming flaccid under the cold water without any action. He doesn't even have the guts to touch his own fucking dick, the guilt blocking him from doing anything to relieve himself.

So—did you find out about it? Because if you did, then Jake could understand the cold shoulders you're giving him.

But Jake is a mere man—maybe a bit perverted, and a bit too horny despite his image, so he couldn't stop himself from getting hard the moment he sees you walking into the living room in nothing but an oversized white tee that falls off your shoulder. He grabs the nearest cushion and places it on top of his crotch, blood already rushing south when he sees the strap of your black bra.

This is why he has to go to church sometimes; to balance everything out. Because Einstein never talked about the solution or formula to cure men's (Jake's) sexual desires that seem endless. And sexual desires that come from seeing a strap of a bra alone.

Whatever it is, Jake's soul has almost left his body, already tuning out of his surroundings. He doesn't even realise that Jay and Riki are wrestling for the TV remote, and accidentally sending said remote flying onto the floor just a few feet away from him.

He only comes to when you stand in front of him, back facing him, and bend over to pick up the remote.

You. Bend. Over. In. Front. Of. Him.

In a second, Jake has a full view of your ass. The shirt rides up slightly, revealing white shorts that stretches across the round flesh as you bend over to reach the remote and Jake feels like he's brought back to the car when he was fighting demons as you unintentionally ground his crotch with every movement.

His grip on the cushion tightens, head dizzy from the way you practically shove your butt in his face.

Jake releases a shaky exhale.

He can see the outline of your panties and wonders if it matches your black bra.

And he can see the outline of his doomed future if he stays in the living room any longer.

"Whose turn is it to pick the movie?" You casually ask, now straightening up as if you just didn't flash Jake with your perky ass.

"Jake hyung," Jungwon replies from the center of the long couch, carding his hand through Sunoo's silky hair, the blonde who's now laying down his head on his lap. "It's his turn."

Your face remains expressionless as you turn to the glasses boy. But instead of taking the remote from your hand, Jake stands up, avoiding eye contact and clutching the cushion tight over his crotch.

"I-I suddenly feel sick! Gonna skip tonight's movie, bye!"

Then he flees the living room, leaving behind six confused men and one very angry, very upset girl.

Jake thinks he deserves a medal for surviving the living room.

Or perhaps an exorcism.

The moment his bedroom door clicks shut behind him, Jake drops the cushion onto the floor and drags both hands down his face with a groan. His glasses nearly fall off his nose in the process.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He paces once across the room, then twice.

Outside, he can still hear the muffled sounds of the movie downstairs—Riki yelling dramatically at a character, Sunoo complaining about spoilers, Jay laughing too loudly. Normal sounds. Normal people.

Meanwhile Jake feels like he's one accidental glimpse of your shoulder away from committing a crime.

His eyes squeeze shut.

That white shirt.

The black bra strap.

The way you bent over in front of him so casually, completely unaware that Jake nearly ascended right there on Jay's living room couch.

"Fuck," he whispers weakly to himself.

Jake drops onto the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees.

Maybe he should take another cold shower. That would make four today.

"I should sleep," he mutters to himself, breath shaky. "S-Sleep can help with motion sickness and horniness."

With a newfound resolution, he turns off the lamp and settles under the blanket. His movement is stiff and awkward, overly aware of the tent straining his shorts. Once he pulls the blanket over his chest, Jake closes his eyes, forcing sleep into his system.

Only, the image of you swimming in your hot pink bikini flashes behind his eyelids.

"No, stop. Not that," he whispers, brows scrunching in protest. He shakes his head, as if physically removing the image away, and tries again.

This time, the image of you in his lap comes back, stripped down to heated skin and soft breaths, your body moving against his in ways that make his stomach twist.

His eyes fly open. The image is so clear and vivid, thanks to his photographic memory and insane imagination—the very thing that's been saving him in the academic department now serving as the tool that brings him to his downfall.

His cock twitches involuntarily.

"N-No," he pants, chest moving rapidly. He grips the edge of the blanket, knuckles turning white. "I—Stop—"

Then he remembers just now: you bent over, giving him a delicious access to his ass-shaped sufferings, and Jake almost whimpers from the flashback alone.

The room rises in temperature, the air conditioner doing nothing to tone down the feverish lust spreading through his body. Jake finally relents and discards the blanket, glasses all fogged up as he stares at the bulge under his shorts.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, slipping off his shorts and boxers until they bunch up around his knees. "I'm so fucking sorry."

His cock springs free, standing tall in the dimness of his room. The tip glistens, already drooling with precum that shows no sign of stopping. With shaky hands, hesitance still edging around his lust, Jake finaly touches himself.

He has to bite down hard on his lips to muffle the sound threatening to escape. His hand stutters, the feeling of finally rubbing some relief after days of holding back comes crashing down on him. His head spins from how heavy his cock is in his hold, veins protuding like they're going to combust.

He slowly starts moving his hand, lathering up precum to ease the glide. His head tips back, a strangled sound catches behind his throat.

"Oh, God," his head spins, sparks of lust bursting at the tip of his fingers. "Oh, fuck—"

Through his hazy gaze of the blurry lenses, Jake tightens his grip slightly. A moan escapes his lips at the force, his cock only getting heavier in his hand. He plays with the mushroom tip of his dick, thumbing the slit and hissing when it sends pleasure up his spine.

"Ngh—" his eyes squeeze shut, brain putting up pieces of his memory of you. His body jerks when the rough pad of his thumb touches the underside of his cock, and as if on cue, the image of your jiggly breasts inside the car flashes behind his closed eyes.

"Fuck—Y/N," Jake sobs, picking up his pace. His wrist turns and flicks, biceps flexing hard at the speed he's going. Guilt starts accumulating inside his chest the more he thinks of you, of your voice, of your gaze, of your scent—but guilt isn't enough to stop Jake from chasing his own release.

"'So sorry," he chokes, letting go of his bottom lip, bitten-red and swollen. He imagines it was your hand instead of his, smaller and softer, with those manicured nails that he loves so much. How tiny your hand would look around his hard dick, trying to grip his length in its fully erect state.

Jake isn't inexpereinced. He's had his own fair share of sexcapades with a few people, and he's always been told that he's bigger than average. The big dick that he hides under his pants, further concealed by his nervous persona that only certain girls find cute.

But seeing his state right now, Jake thinks he's the furthest thing from cute.

He's pathetic.

Pathetic and gross and disgusting, feeling bad for jerking off to the thoughts of you but still unable to retract his hand and stop. The sound of his cries that he fails to hide fills up the space, and for the first time in days he's very glad that he won paper-rock-scissors during room assignment.

"Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he chants, mouth gaping open when he can feel himself close. His wrist is already tired and numb from the relentless pace he's set, the slick sound of his sinful act matching the roar of his blood rushing in his ears.

"Please, please, 'm gonna cum," he sobs, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. His hips lift off the mattress. "Please—"

"Do not fucking cum, Sim Jaeyun."

Jake's entire body locks up.

His wrist stills immediately, pleasure crashing into horror so fast it makes his stomach twist. For a second, he genuinely thinks his heart stops beating.

The room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing.

Through fogged-up lenses and teary eyes, Jake stares at you standing by the door, unable to process the fact that you're actually here.

That you heard him.

That you saw him.

Oh my fucking God.

His hand jerks away from himself like he’s been burned, chest heaving violently as he scrambles to sit up straighter. The blanket tangles around his legs from how abruptly he moves.

"I—"

Nothing comes out.

Jake has never felt this level of humiliation before.

Not when he failed his chemistry olympiad in tenth grade. Not when he tripped in front of his entire lecture hall. Not even when Jungwon found his hidden Pokémon card collection at nineteen.

This is worse. So much worse.

Because it's you.

You, standing there in that oversized white shirt slipping off your shoulder again, eyes dark and unreadable as you look at him sprawled across the bed like something shameful.

Jake feels sick. His face burns so hot he thinks he might actually pass out.

"S-Sorry," he chokes out instinctively, because apologising is the only thing his brain knows how to do right now. "I didn't—I wasn't—I—"

His voice cracks miserably.

Jake is going to cry.

What should he even say in this situation? Sorry that you caught him jerking off to you? Sorry that he's such a nerd, such a loser that the only time he could talk smoothly with you was when he was defining what motion sickness was, but never had the courage to tell you how much he likes you and how much you affect me? Sorry that he's such a pervert that he thinks of you in positions way too inappropriate to be just friends?

The weight of his arousal sits heavy against his thigh, a testament to a newfound, lifelong embarrassment that he'll carry to his grave.

Jake squirms under your heated gaze, and quickly covers his crotch with his blanket when you slip into his bedroom wordlessly. The door clicks shut, the sound amplified by the heavy silence hanging in the air. His body tenses up.

Oh my God—he messed up, didn't he? Jake hangs his head low in shame, tears gathering along his lashlines.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to…"

His vision turns blurry. Fuck, you must hate him now.

"I-It's wrong—I know that—I'm sorry—ah!"

Jake looks up in surprise when your bold hand cups his erection. There's angry lines in your forehead, a sneer on your mouth, but the nasty look you're giving him does nothing to soothe down his arousal.

If anything, twisted as it is—it turns him on even more.

"Couldn't even look me in the eye downstairs," you begin, "but you here you are, jerking off to me like I wouldn't find out?"

The venom in your voice hurts him. You're being mean with your words, and it hurts his feelings but Jake couldn't care less. His mind is a messy jumbles of guilt and pleasure and shame, so all he does is cry and shake his head.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N—"

"Are you really sorry?" you tighten your grip on his cock, one knee dipping into the mattress. "Your dick doesn't seem sorry though."

Jake wants to cry—oh, he's already crying. His hand curls into the sheets beneath him, unable to form coherent words when you start rocking the heel of your palm on his hard-on. The friction from the blanket and the pressure from your hand only spark electric pleasure through his system.

Within seconds, Jake is all hard again—even harder than before.

"Tell me, Jaeyunnie. Did all of this happen because I sat in your lap?"

Jake whimpers pathetically. You knew. Of course you knew. You're not only hot and pretty and kind, you're also smart like him, so in tune with your surroundings. You're a little mean right now, but it's okay because Jake believes that he deserves this after avoiding you without any explanation.

"Answer me, Sim Jaeyun."

"Yes," he croaks, shame burning his face red. His eyes screw shut. The admission sets his being on fire, skin flushed from embarrassment. "O-Oh, God, y-yes."

He cracks one eye open when you don't reply. Instead, he's met with your fiery gaze. The edges have softened with lust, like you're also affected by this, but you're good at keeping your control.

Unlike him, who's unraveling like a loose thread under your touch alone.

Jake almost whines when you retract your hand, but the sound is muffled with a gasp when you yank the blanket open. He instinctively closes his crotch area with his hands, but you're fast to slap his wrists away.

"I'm so pissed off, Jaeyun," you mutter, swinging your leg over his thighs so now you're straddling him. You fix him with your sharp eyes, hand finding his dick again.

"You've been acting like we're strangers and it hurts me so bad."

Jake's mouth hangs open as you gather his precum and start working your wrist around his cock. His brain barely registers your words, too lost in a cloud of lust, but when he finally processes it, he desperately shakes his head.

He wants to apologise again and again and again, because he is truly sorry—he didn't know how affected you were. How could he not, when you're always described as everything out of his league, but he's always described as everything that doesn't fit your type?

"I'm sorry, I was just—fuck—just ashamed—" he gasps, hips bucking into your touch. "Didn't mean to—t-to hurt y—ngh, Y/N, faster please."

You coo at him, feigning sympathy as you set a ruthless pace on his cock. Jake is big—something that isn't a surprise anymore since that day you sat in his lap—but the sheer size of him is enough to make your mouth water and your panties damp.

Damn these nerdy boys. Acting all shy and innocent when they have this monstrousity hiding behind those ugly glasses.

"Faster? You wanna cum, Jaeyunnie?" you tilt your head. Jake nods frantically. "I don't think you deserve it, though. Why not ask from those girls you gave your number to?"

Something sharp twists in his stomach. Jake's eyes fly open, almost cowering when you give him a distasteful look. He grabs your arms desperately and shakes his head.

"N-No! She asked me first—" you put more pressure and Jake damn near loses his mind. "—said she needs—help—w-with Physi—cs—"

You roll your eyes. It's that easy to fool him? Can't he see the way those girls fuck him with their eyes? Without waiting for his sentence to finish, you sink down and take him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" Jake screams, accidentally thrusting up his hips. He bites his lips, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose as you take him deeper, tracing the line of his veins with your sinful tongue. "Oh, Y/N—please."

You hum around his length, tongue swirling as you hollow your cheeks to deepen the suction. Jake nearly busts from that alone, mind melting into a puddle of your name, the wet heat of your mouth serving as a better pleasure than his own hand.

You start bobbing your head up and down, marveling in the way the weight of his dick sits on your tongue. He's so big that you're so close to choking, but you don't care. You need to remind Jake how stupid he's been acting and how stupid he is if he thinks that you were not just as attracted toward him.

Jake sobs into his hands, hips jerking with every touch of his tip hitting the back of your throat. His head is getting dizzier, he can feel the coil in his stomach getting tighter and he knows that anytime soon, he will come undone on your skillful tongue.

But just as he's about to reach that high, you let go of him with a pop.

"No!" Jake whines, tears sliding down his cheeks. You're so mean. "P-Please let me cum."

"Not yet, nerdy boy." You mutter, red lips slick with saliva and precum. Jake can only sob, dick throbbing in need and desperation.

This is the punishment he deserves for being a jerk. He knows that, but he can't seem to stop crying. God, he's so pathetic.

Then he feels movement on his thighs. He blinks through the foggy lenses and lets out a breathless moan when you lift up your shirt and shorts and discard them away, leaving you in nothing but a pair of bra and panties. His mouth starts salivating at the display of your beautiful body, and Jake swears he almost cums when he sees that you're indeed wearing black panties.

Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just as he imagined—God, you're so perfect he wants to kiss you.

But instead of a kiss, you push his at his chest instead. "Lie down."

And like the obedient puppy that he is, Jake follows your word, carefully descending his back onto the mattress. He's still sniffling from the previous denial, but now it's mixed with anticipation of what's to come when you hover above him.

You trace a gentle finger along the tall bridge of his nose, a barely-there touch that makes him shiver. With a slow tap on the tip of his nose, you finally speak.

"Did anyone ever ride your nose, Jaeyunnie?"

H-His nose?

Girls always compliment his nose, but he's never given it many thoughts as to why they did that. "N-No. Never."

There's a wicked smile on your face as you stand on your knees. Jake watches with a mouth gaping open as you make a show of shimmying down your panties, painfully and traitorously slowly that he almost rips it with his hand.

"Ah, what a shame," you sigh dreamily. "Guess I have to be the first one then."

Once your panties are out of the picture, Jake is instanly hit with a wave of your arousal. Your pussy glistens under the moonlight, soaked with slick and dripping with need. Jake inhales shakily, stopping himself from darting out his tongue to get a taste.

Fuck. He's sure he has actually died in the car and this is heaven because not even in his wildest dream did he get to have you like this.

Too lost in his reverie, Jake belatedly notices that you have removed his glasses. Despite your mean words and your mean actions, the caresses of your thumb on his cheeks are so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"You're so handsome, Jaeyun," you murmur. "But I bet you'll look better buried between my thighs."

You give him no time to recover from your crude words when you slowly move to straddle his head. Then, with a hand in his hair, you descend, letting the tip of his nose nudge at your clit.

And oh my fucking God—you smell so divine.

"Ah, Jaeyunnie," you moan, rocking your hips slowly to test the waters. "Your nose feels so good."

You sound even more divine. Jake's eyes roll to the back, savouring the way your sinful moans fall on his ears as you use his nose to get off. The bridge of his nose slides through your folds—wet and sticky and so sweet that he can't get enough of it.

Jake wraps his arms around your thighs to give you support, and another moan escapes your lips upon seeing his veiny arms around your supple skin. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, groaning despite your cunt suffocating him, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure to your system.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—"

He can't breathe, and he can't hear properly from how hard you're clamping his head with your legs, but he can't deny that this is the best way to die. Being suffocated by your leaking pussy sounds like a dream death compared to dying in Jay's old SUV.

You keep your rhythm, rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your clit on his nose and dragging your folds on the tall bridge until the sharp tip of his nose catches at your hole. The grip you have in his hair hurts his scalp, but everything is worth the pain when Jake can watch you fall apart on his face, his own cock pulsing with a trembling need to cum.

"Ah—ah—Jaeyun oppa—"

Fuck. Fuck that sacred nickname.

The dynamics between you two often makes Jake forget the fact that he is indeed older than you. Coming from the States, it's uncommon for you to address people with such honorifics.

But right now, using that very honorific against him ignites something inside him; a carnal desire that's been thrumming low in his guts, waiting to be unleashed.

This time, Jake barely stops himself from stealing a taste. He darts out his tongue, prodding your hole with the tip, and hums in satisfaction when your stance falters slightly.

"Don't," you hiss, but there's no heat in it. Jake takes it as a sign to continue, licking more into your weeping cunt until your pace turns sloppy.

He doesn't care. You're probably gonna be so mad at him and punish him more, but whatever it is you have prepared can wait. Right now, Jake is having the best pussy of his life—barely breathing but still eating so, so fucking well.

"Jaeyun—stop—"

"No," Jake protests when you try to get up, pulling you down until the full weight of your body rests on his face.

Oh God, choking on pussy has never felt so good.

"Sim Jaeyun!" You squirm, feeling the stirring inside your belly getting wilder. Despite your weak attempts, your hips keeps grinding on his nose, showing no signs of stopping. You throw your head back.

You knew his nose would be the best thing to ride on, but hearing the slurps of your slick and his saliva—the sinful noises of him feasting on your cunt—makes you almost regret not letting him eat you out first.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—I'm close—"

Jake pulls your hips harder, letting you grind your clit on the tip of his nose as his tongue pushes into your hole mercilessly. You let out a high-pitched scream, muscles pulling tight at his ministrations. The double stimulations are fast pushing you over the edge.

Soon, white hot pleasure crashes into you, your vision turning black momentarily. It's so blurry and messy that you haven't realised that you've been screaming his name raw, hips unrelenting to chase the high. Jake swallows every drop of your sweet nectar, moaning into your spasming hole as he licks it clean.

Fuck. He's already desperate to have another round.

When you come down from your orgasm, hair matted to your forehead, you look down at him furiously.

"Let me go! I told you not to do it!" You attempt to sit up, but Jake doesn't let go, shaking his head with a pout. His nose and chin are drenched with your release, it's so sinful and filthy and you can't lie that you like seeing him so wrecked and fucked over like this.

"Can I have more? Please," he begs, kissing your inner thigh unhurriedly. He's already so addicted to the taste of you, Jake thinks he's gonna die if he doesn't have another fill. "I'll be so good to you, Y/N. Wanna eat you out so bad."

You grit your teeth, pushing away the temptation to save your pride. "No. Get up, Jaeyun."

But Jake is stubborn. He's so desperate to have more of you that he doesn't mind if he's leaving his own cock neglected and balls blue. "Please, I need it bad," he nudges at your pussy with his finger, pupils blown wide at the strings of sticky cum decorating your folds. "Fuck, please, Y/N, I want to eat you out."

"I said get up, Jaeyun."

"Y/N—"

"Jake."

The sharpness in your voice cuts through the haze instantly.

Jake stills immediately.

The desperation in his eyes flickers into something softer, more uncertain, like a scolded puppy finally realising he’s crossed a line. His grip on your thighs loosens at once, chest rising and falling hard beneath you.

The sound of his English name on your tongue feels foreign and almost painful, because it lacks the usual warmth and intimacy that your 'Jaeyun' usually holds. Yet, something inside him pulses harder, liking the change more than he'd like to admit.

“S-Sorry,” he whispers automatically, voice rough. “I just…”

He doesn’t even know how to explain it. How could he? That hearing you moan his name made him lose every coherent thought in his brain? That he’s spent days trying to stay away from you only to end up here, beneath you, completely ruined anyway?

You study him for a long moment before finally shifting off his face.

“Sit up.”

Jake obeys instantly.

The movement is clumsy and needy. His hair is a mess, lips swollen, face still flushed from lack of oxygen and desire. Without his glasses, his eyes look unbearably open like this—too honest, too vulnerable.

You cup his jaw gently, the touch losing its cruelty. Jake melts into it.

"There he is," you murmur softly, fixing his bangs that are obscuring his eyesight.

Jake can feel his heart stutter traitorously. This version of you—tender and sweet—a glimpse of the usual-you, is always more dangerous than any teasing.

Wordlessly, you tug at his shirt, and Jake obediently holds up his arms to let you peel away the fabric. Your eyes flick downward, amusement tugging at your lips.

"You know," you start, fingers trailing slowly down his sculpted chest, "for someone who acted terrified of touching me in the car…"

He groans softly, already embarrassed.

"…You were pretty damn desperate down there, Jaeyun."

His face burns hotter. Fine, he's just a touch-starved man, desperate for you in every way possible. But how could he not? Have you even looked at yourself?

"I-I can't help it…" His eyes drop to your lips. "You tasted so good."

A breathy chuckle escapes you, quiet and fond. But to Jake's ears, he's already hearing the wedding bells chime.

And suddenly the humiliation twisting in his chest eases into something warmer when you climb into his lap again, turning slowly until your back presses against his chest.

The exact same position. That fucking position in the car that has his mind on an endless frenzy that he thinks he was genuinely getting crazy.

Jake goes completely still beneath you.

“Oh,” you whisper, settling against him deliberately. “Now you’re quiet again?”

His hands hover uncertainly near your hips, like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you.

“You’re mean,” he mumbles weakly against your shoulder. You laugh, one hand patting his hair as the other one aligning his neglected cock on your entrance.

"But I know you like it, Jaeyunnie."

At the same time you presses on the nickname, you sink onto his cock slowly, letting the bulbous head of his length spear you open.

The both of you moan simultaneously. Jake's hands find puchase on your waist, trying his best to stop from manhandling you to just fucking bounce on his dick and letting you adjust. You, on the other hand, let the stretch burn, your walls spasming to accommodate his length.

"S-So big," you stutter, taking him inch by inch. Jake drops his head on your shoulder, his own breathing ragged. "So—full—"

When he finally fits inside you to the brim, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. He fills you up so good that you can feel every vein against your walls, every pulse kissing your insides. It's a dizzying experience that prompts you to start moving your hips.

Jake’s fingers dig into your waist, trembling.

Not because he wants to stop you.

Because he’s trying so hard not to lose himself completely.

The position alone is enough to send him spiraling—your back against his chest, your body in his lap exactly like the car ride, except now there’s no seatbelt digging into his side, no boys teasing from the front seat, no restraint left between the two of you.

Just you and him.

And the devastating realisation that you wanted him too.

Jake lets out a broken sound against your shoulder when you move again, his forehead falling against your skin. His entire body feels feverish, overwhelmed by too much sensation and too many emotions crashing into him at once.

"Wasn't this what got you so hard, Jaeyunnie?" You pant between breathless moans. "Me in your lap, bouncing on your cock like this?"

"Ngh—" A strangled noise escapes his throat. Jake watches with bated breath as your hands find the clasp of your bra and finally let the two soft mounds free. Now, he badly wants you to turn around, eager to relive the scene of your bouncy breasts in Jay's car.

"Did you not—ah—crave this?"

You arch your back, pleasure tingling every nerves as his cock drags against your walls. Jake feels his dick throb inside your hole, the same position that ruined him now had him completely at your mercy.

"S-So tight," he whimpers, mouth falling open at the way you clench around his cock and roll your hips. "S-So fucking tight, Y/N, fuck."

Jake clings onto you desperately, bucking his hips to chase your movement. But you hold down a firm hand on his thigh, completely in charge.

"Don't," you warn, grinding down on him in a way that makes your ass ripple. "Or I'll get up and leave."

Jake freezes instantly.

The warning slices straight through him, sharp and effective. His hands tighten on your waist, but he forces his hips back against the mattress despite every instinct screaming at him to chase you harder.

“O-Okay,” he breathes quickly. “Okay. Sorry.”

God, he sounds wrecked.

You can feel the way his thighs tremble beneath yours, the strain in his breathing every time you move your hips slowly against him. Jake drops his forehead between your shoulder blades with a weak groan, like simply holding himself back is physically painful.

"I'm still mad at you," you murmur. You roll your hips again, faster this time, and Jake nearly whimpers into your shoulder. His jaw clenches so hard he might pop a vessel.

"Are you sure you're not the one—" you moan, your thighs burning from how fast you're exerting yourself. The wet sound of skin hitting skin starts getting louder the harder you slam down your hips. "The one who's being—mean?"

Jake sobs into your skin, half-regretting, half-dizzy. The tight heat of your cunt pulses and flutters around his dick and he genuinely feels horrible for only thinking using his other head now.

Even so, he still manages to apologise again. "I'm s-sorry—"

You clench around him on purpose. Jake digs his nails deeper. "Fuck—"

"Stop fucking apologising," you seethe, voice trembling as you feel your release getting near. "Delete her number or I'll sit in Sunghoon's lap when we get back to Seoul."

There's no bite in your threat. It's just a spur-of-the-moment kind of things, one that you say just to rile him up.

But Jake takes your words like a verdict. He snakes an arm around your waist, lips worshipping your skin in desperate, wet kisses.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, darling," he begs, tears clinging to his lashes. He bites his lips in an attempt to stop himself from moaning because he's so, so close. "I will block her. Fuck—I will delete her number. P-Please don't sit with S-Sunghoon—"

His speech is interrupted by a high-pitched whine. Jake hasn't come all night, he's nothing more than a thread waiting to snap. The moment you bounce harder and faster, the supple skin of your butt jiggling wilder, Jake can feel that he's about to come.

"Y/N—ah—p-puh—lease—" he whimpers, voice scratching at his throat. "'M close, 'm g-gonna cum—"

But he should've known that you're so, so mean.

The moment you lift off his cock, Jake genuinely sobs out loud, thrashing under you.

"No! No, please—" he chokes, hiding his crying face behind his hands, too shattered when his orgasm being denied again. "Please, no—I wanna cum, please."

You turn around and the sight of him—red-faced, wet cheeks, lips trembling—it softens your heart. You quickly pull his wrists and rest his hands on your hips, your own cupping his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby," you shush him, blowing kisses to the tip of his nose as you take him again. Jake whimpers quietly. "I'm so sorry—I'll let you cum this time, hm?"

Jake weakly nods, then lets out a soft moan at the familiar feeling of your walls enveloping him. You move again, already sore, but you no longer have it in you to torture your poor, poor Jaeyun. This time, you immediately begin with a fast pace, giving him a show of your tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Ah—fuck—Jaeyunnie—" you bite your lips, expression so erotic that it has the brown-haired boy drooling. "Glasses—like you better with glasses."

Jake is too dazed to register your words, so you pick the glasses on your own and put them on him. And there he is—your sweet, sweet boy, your Jaeyunnie that you adore so much, your Jaeyun that thinks it's bad for wanting you this much.

"S-So—handsome, Jaeyunnie," you roll your hips, chest arching into his face. "My nerdy boy, you're mine, hm?"

Jake physically cannot take it anymore. The sight of you on top of him, bouncing on his cock like your life depends on it, putting on his glasses and calling him yours—it's too much for Sim Jaeyun who's never been given this kind of attention and affection.

Especially from you.

His lips move, but you can barely hear him.

"Hm? What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry, Y/N," his nails dig into your waist. "I'm so fucking sorry, please don't be mad at me."

Your brows furrow in confusion, but before you know it, Jake is already flipping you around, changing your position in one swift movement. You have half a second to gain your breath before the boy hovering over you pulls you closer by your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders.

"I'm s-sorry," Jake stutters, slipping his dick back into your cunt and starts thrusting fast. "I-I can't hold it anymore."

Despite the showcase of his strength, Jake looks absolutely ruined. There's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but from the pace he's railing you, you know that his lust ovverrides whatever little guilt he has.

Soon enough, the air smells so thickly of sex. The sound of his balls slapping your ass, accompanied by your high-pitched moans and his groans are the only one filling up the space, to the point that you're sure one of the boys must've heard you.

It's so hot and filthy that Jake's glasses are all fogged up again. His grip on your waist is now leaving bruises, but you don't care because all you can think of is Jake, Jake's big cock, Jake's stupid glasses and just Jake, Jake, Jake.

"F-f-f-fuck," he exhales shakily, splitting you open with his cock. "I-I'm so—close—"

You thrash around, fisting the sheets until it tears from the force of your nails. "Jaeyun—" you gasp when he keeps abusing that spot that has you seeing stars. "Oh, fuck—Jaeyun—harder—"

Jake leans forward, straining his arms on either side of your head. His glasses slide down his slick nose slightly when he bends down to capture your lips in his thick ones. You both moan into the kiss, finally getting the taste of each other, tongues already clashing for more.

Jake licks into your mouth, hips never faltering, and sucks on your bottom lip. You whimper, the sensation becoming too much until you're just breathing against his lips, all heat and teeth and saliva. Jake groans.

"I-I'm gonna—cum—" he gasps against your mouth, face scrunching in pleasure when you clench around him. "O-Oh my fucking God, Y/N, fuck—please let me cum inside."

His hands find your waist again, thrusting harder than before. His head drops to your shoulder as he begs, again and again.

"P-Please let me cum inside, please," he whimpers, voice needy and whiny. "Please—I'm gonna—I wanna—"

"Just cum," you moan when his teeth scrape against your skin. "Jae—Jaeyunnie—"

Jake groans. With last few, deliberate thrusts, he finally cums—a full-body orgasm that has him shuddering, his cock spurting out rope after thick rope of his release, painting your walls white.

You follow him just a second after, vision blurring for a moment as your second orgasm rips through your body. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream, eyes rolling back from how delicious your climax is.

Jake takes a long moment breathing into your ear, grinding his hips slowly before he's finally pulling out. He hisses as he drags out his cock, careful not to overstimulate you, and watches in awe as white fluid flowing out of your pulsing cunt.

"Oh my fucking God."

You breathe out a laugh, sounding breathless and disbelieving. Seeing Jake sitting still by your legs, you open your arms toward him.

"C'mere, Jaeyunnie. Let's cuddle for a moment before washing up—I'm too sore to walk."

Jake perks up at that. Gone is the hungry, lust-driven boy a few moments ago, now replaced with the shy, kicked puppy holding his tail between his legs.

"Cuddle?" he echoes, unsure. "Are you not mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you for too long," you reply, giving him a reassuring smile.

It gives Jake a flicker of hope. He scoots closer, still cautious and observing, like approaching a scared animal.

"But I avoided you…"

You drop your arms and pretend to think, making a show of tapping your chin with a finger.

"You're right. You were mean for that. Why don't you carry me to the bathroom and clean me up so we can cuddle afterwards?"

Hearing that, Jake finally relaxes, his tight muscles loosening. With an eager smile, he scoops an arm under your knees and your back, and then lifts you up easily as if you weigh nothing.

"Your wish is my command, my princess."

The next morning, you receive knowing looks from the boys. There are lingering stares on your neck from where Jake was mauling your skin last night, but you have no problem showing them off.

Jake, on the other hand, is on the edge of another breakdown.

"So, Jake," Jay starts, already planning a mischievous teasing inside his head. "How did it feel like to get railed—"

"I did not get railed!" he squeaks, ears blushing red. "I-I was the one who railed her! Right, Y/N?"

There's a laugh bubbling inside your chest as you watch Jake squirm under the relentless teasing of his friends. It felt good to be the one in charge, but after that display of strength and the way he manhandled you last night?

You don't mind having him on top of you.

But the both of you know who's truly in charge.

And if you choose to sit in his lap again, this time grinding and shifting on purpose that he gets hard until the car reaches Seoul, nobody has to know that.

Well, maybe Riki knows. But who cares.

wow okay

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula

dividers from: @/diviniyae

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thank you for 1k!! i saw 1009 likes #Fate

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upcoming 🎀

current wc: 4k

estimated wc: 15k (but if you know me you will not trust my estimation)

taglist is closed!

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taglist is closed!!! i will start liking your comments when the story is ready 😏😏😏