#sim jake

[gyuuberryy]

user error

pairing: nerd!jake x reader

genre: college au, eventual simp x simp dynamic, smut, slow burn

synopsis: getting partnered with jake, the tall awkward nerd from on of your computer science classes, should've been simple—work on the project, get your grade, move on. except now you're completely obsessed with him and he's totally clueless about it. between tutoring sessions you definitely don't need and "coincidental" dorm hall run-ins, you're pulling out all the stops. too bad jake's more interested in his textbooks than your very obvious flirting.

you've never been rejected before, so this should be fine. …right?

warnings (MDNI 18+ only!!) : smut (oral sex(f. and m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, size difference, big dick!jake, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk!jake, dry humping, heavy makeout, whiny!jake), cursing, mild alcohol use, emotional manipulation, jealousy, themes of insecurity, angst, lots computer science related terms(i kind of geeked out here), reader's kind of delulu and a jerk

note: i'm back to my writing style for lighthearted fics for this one hehe. i lovelovelove nerdy shy men tropes sooo much. i did try to keep it a little realistic though. i hope you like this! enjoyyy

word count: 21.8k

taglist | more works!

you were alone in the computer science lab at nearly midnight, which wasn't unusual. assignments had a way of turning the building into a second home. but tonight felt wrong. everything felt too much. the lights buzzed too loud, drilling into your skull with that persistent electrical hum. your eyes burned from staring at your screen for four hours straight, vision going fuzzy at the edges. somewhere around hour three, you'd stopped actually processing code and started just staring through it.

your cold coffee sat forgotten beside your laptop, abandoned but still somehow necessary because the alternative was admitting defeat and going back to your dorm where your roommate and her boyfriend were probably still taking up the entire common space. you'd rather deal with this. the overstimulation. the way every tiny sound felt amplified in the empty lab. the aggressive brightness of your laptop screen. the uncomfortable pressure building behind your eyes that meant you were about to either cry or throw your laptop across the room. probably both.

your code wasn't working. hadn't been working for two days, and you'd tried everything. every forum suggestion, every stack overflow solution, every pathetic office hours visit where you'd explained your problem three times and still left confused. the cursor blinked at you on line two thousand and forty seven, mocking. the compiler kept throwing errors you didn't understand, and you'd rewritten that function six times already. your hands shook slightly from too much caffeine and not enough food. that tight, hot feeling crept up your throat. the one that signalled imminent breakdown.

you pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw spots, trying to reset something in your overwhelmed nervous system. didn't work. nothing worked tonight.

the silence in the lab was the worst part, it was so quiet that it made you hyper-aware of your own breathing, your heartbeat, the small wet sound your tongue made against the roof of your mouth when you swallowed. you hated it.

then suddenly, the power cut out. total darkness that swallowed everything in an instant, your laptop screen going black, even the emergency exit signs disappearing. your heart kicked into overdrive, adrenaline flooding so fast you felt dizzy. you reached out instinctively for your laptop, fingers scrabbling across the desk, needing to confirm it was still there, that everything you'd been working on wasn't just gone.

suddenly you heard footsteps. someone else was in the lab. you hadn't known anyone else was here. the realisation sent fear spiking through your chest because you'd been so certain you were alone. now there was someone moving closer, footsteps uneven and hurried like they couldn't see any better than you. you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could form words there was sudden pressure against your shoulder, hard and unexpected, and then there was the splash of cold liquid, spreading across your lap and chest.

your coffee. the cup tipped and spilt, liquid soaking through your jeans, spreading sticky and uncomfortable across your thighs. panic hit first, pure and primal, because for a split second all you could think was laptop, everything's gone, hours of work, my entire project. your hands flew out in the darkness, patting frantically at the desk, trying to assess the damage. your chest was so tight you couldn't get a full breath.

then came the anger. fast and hot and overwhelming, rising from somewhere deep in your stomach. you wanted to scream. wanted to grab whoever crashed into you and shake them. wanted to cry from sheer frustration because this was exactly what you didn't need tonight, not when you were already hanging on by a thread.

"oh my god, oh my god, i'm so sorry, i didn't see you, i didn't think anyone else was here, i'm so sorry." the voice came rapid-fire from somewhere to your left. male, young, pitched higher than normal with genuine distress. 

he kept apologising, words tumbling over each other, and there was something in his tone that didn't sound rehearsed. he sounded actually afraid, like he'd just committed some unforgivable sin. 

"i didn't mean to, i couldn't see, the power just went out and i was trying to get to the door and i'm so sorry, did it get on your laptop? please tell me it didn't get on your laptop."

you took a breath, trying to force words past the tightness in your throat, trying to formulate some response that matched the fury still coursing through your veins. your mouth opened, something sharp and cutting right on the edge of your tongue.

the emergency lighting kicked in. not much, just pale green strips along the baseboards casting everything in eerie, insufficient glow. enough to see by. enough to make out shapes, faces.

the guy who'd run into you stood about two feet away, and the first thing you noticed was his hands. hovering in the air between you, trembling visibly even in the dim light, fingers spread like he wanted to help but didn't dare touch anything. he was tall and lean, dark hair stuck up in odd directions like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. glasses had slipped down his nose, and behind them his eyes were wide. genuinely panicked in a way that didn't feel performed at all.

"your laptop," he said, voice still shaking with that same desperate concern. "what model is it? did the coffee get on it? the keyboard is the main concern, if liquid got into the keyboard we need to shut it down immediately and flip it over to drain, we need to know if you had everything backed up." 

he was already moving closer, trembling hands reaching toward your desk, and you realised with a start that he hadn't even looked at you properly yet. his entire focus was on your laptop. on the problem he'd created. on fixing it.

"it's fine," you managed, voice coming out rougher than intended. you looked down at your computer. sitting safely to the right of where your coffee had been, completely dry and unharmed. "it didn't get on it."

the relief that washed over his face was so profound you almost felt embarrassed witnessing it. his shoulders sagged. his hands finally dropped to his sides. he let out a long, shaky breath like he'd been holding it since the collision.

 "okay. okay, that's good, that's really good." then, almost as an afterthought, his eyes finally moved to actually look at you. taking in your coffee-soaked lap, your tense posture, your expression which you were sure wasn't friendly. "are you okay? did you get burned? that coffee looked hot, if it was hot we should get you to a sink, run cold water on it."

"it was cold," you said. true, but didn't make the situation better. your jeans were soaked through, fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin, coffee starting to seep into your chair. you were sticky and irritated and still running on too much adrenaline. but he looked so genuinely distressed that some of your anger started deflating despite yourself.

"cold coffee is still a problem," he said, already pulling his backpack off his shoulder, unzipping it with fumbling fingers. "the sugar content means it'll get sticky when it dries, and it can stain, especially on lighter fabrics. i have napkins, i think, or maybe paper towels, i definitely have something." 

he was rummaging through his bag now, pulling out crumpled papers, a graphing calculator, several pens, tangled earbuds, talking the entire time in that same rapid, anxious way. 

"i'm really sorry, i should have been more careful, i knew the power was out, i should have used my phone flashlight, i just thought i knew the layout well enough to navigate in the dark but obviously i was wrong."

you watched him. something uncomfortable shifted in your chest. you'd been prepared to snap at him, to unleash all your accumulated frustration on whoever had been careless enough to run into you. but he wasn't making excuses. wasn't trying to minimise what he'd done or deflect blame or make some joke to lighten the mood. he was just genuinely, almost painfully concerned about the problem he'd created. the way he kept apologising, kept trying to fix things, made it very hard to stay angry.

"here," he said triumphantly, producing a small pack of tissues from the bottom of his bag. he held them out, then seemed to realise how inadequate they were and let out a frustrated sound. "these aren't going to be enough. we should go to the bathroom, get some actual paper towels. or maybe the kitchen area on the second floor, they have those industrial dispensers that are way more absorbent." 

he paused, finally seeming to register that you hadn't moved, that you were just sitting there watching him. his ears went red, visible even in the dim green emergency lighting. "sorry, i'm sorry, i'm doing it again. my sister always tells me i go into problem-solving mode when i'm anxious and it makes people feel like i'm not actually listening to them. are you okay? like, actually okay, not just physically okay?"

the question caught you off guard. nobody had asked you that in days. maybe weeks. everyone just assumed you were fine because you were handling things, meeting deadlines, showing up to class. but this stranger who'd just spilt coffee all over you was looking at you with genuine concern, waiting for a real answer. something in your chest felt suddenly too tight.

"i'm fine," you said, softer than intended. you took the tissues from him, dabbing uselessly at your jeans. he was right. they weren't nearly enough. but the gesture felt important somehow. "it's been a long night."

"assignments?" he asked. when you nodded he made a sympathetic noise. "yeah, same. i've been here since six. had a project deadline at midnight but then the power went out fifteen minutes before and now i don't know if my submission went through because the wifi died with the electricity." he pushed his glasses up his nose. nervous gesture you got the impression he did frequently. 

"i'm jake, by the way. jake sim. i feel like i should probably introduce myself since i just, like, assaulted you with your own beverage."

despite everything, ruined jeans and exhaustion and broken code, you felt the corner of your mouth twitch. not quite a smile, but close. "assaulted me with my own beverage?"

"well, yeah," he said, looking vaguely embarrassed. "i mean, i weaponised your coffee against you. that's technically assault, right? or maybe battery? i always get those mixed up. my roommate's a poli-sci major, he'd know."

 he was rambling now, words spilling out in that same anxious rush, and there was something almost endearing about how completely lacking in artifice it was. he wasn't trying to be charming. wasn't trying to be funny. just genuinely nervous and dealing with it by talking too much.

you told him your name. he repeated it carefully, like he was committing it to memory. "i really am sorry," he said again, quieter this time. "what were you working on? before i interrupted?"

"data structures project," you said. just thinking about it made your shoulders tense again. "it's due tomorrow and there's a bug i can't figure out and i've been staring at it for hours."

his eyes lit up behind his glasses, spark of interest that transformed his whole face. "what kind of bug? runtime error? logic error? is it a pointer issue? those are always the worst, especially with linked lists."

 he was already moving closer to your laptop, stopping himself at the last second like he'd realised he was being presumptuous. "sorry, i mean, i could take a look if you want? i'm pretty good with data structures. it's kind of my thing. i'm a TA for comp 201 actually, so i see a lot of common bugs. but also totally no pressure, i know i just dumped coffee on you so you probably don't want my help."

you should have said no. didn't know this guy, didn't owe him anything. you'd been managing just fine on your own. except you hadn't been managing fine. you'd been on the verge of a breakdown in an empty lab at midnight. now here was this nervous, rambling stranger offering help without expecting anything in return, looking at you like your problem was genuinely important to him.

it was disorienting. how quickly your anger had evaporated, replaced by something you couldn't quite name. you found yourself noticing details you shouldn't care about. the way he kept pushing his glasses up. the way his hands had finally stopped shaking now that he had something concrete to focus on.

"okay," you heard yourself say. his whole face brightened in a way that made something flutter uncomfortably in your stomach. "yeah, if you don't mind looking at it."

"i don't mind at all," he said quickly, already pulling up a chair. he left careful distance between you though, hyper-aware of not invading your space again. "show me what you've got."

you turned your laptop toward him. he leaned in, eyes scanning the lines with immediate focus. his expression shifted into something concentrated, intense. this was probably what he looked like when he wasn't tripping over people in the dark and panicking about it. he started asking questions about your implementation, your logic, what you'd already tried. his voice had lost that nervous edge. this was clearly where he was comfortable. in the clean logic of code, in problems that had solutions.

you answered his questions. watched as he nodded, occasionally pushing his glasses up, finger tracing lines of code on the screen without quite touching it. the emergency lighting cast strange shadows across his face, highlighting his cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw, the way his brow furrowed in concentration.

you were noticing things you shouldn't notice. but you told yourself it wasn't because you found him attractive. you were just paying attention because he was helping. because he'd disrupted your solitary misery and replaced it with something else. something that felt almost like companionship.

"there," he said suddenly, pointing to a line in the middle of your function. "you're incrementing the counter before you check the condition, but you need to check the condition first. it's causing an off-by-one error. see? you're accessing index n when your array only goes up to n minus one."

you stared at the line he was indicating. slowly, horribly, you realised he was right. such a simple mistake, the kind of thing you should have caught hours ago. but you'd been too tired, too frustrated, too deep in your own head to see it. "oh my god," you said quietly. "that's it. that's the whole problem."

"easy fix," jake said, smiling now. a real smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "just move that line down two spaces and add the conditional check first. you want me to...?" he gestured at your keyboard, asking permission. you nodded, watched as he made the adjustment with quick, confident keystrokes. "there. try running it now."

you hit compile, holding your breath. for the first time in two days the program ran without errors. the output printed exactly the way it was supposed to. clean and correct and perfect. relief flooded through you so intensely you felt dizzy with it, all the tension you'd been carrying suddenly releasing at once. "thank you," you said, voice more emotional than intended. "seriously, thank you, i've been losing my mind over this."

"it happens to everyone," jake said gently. "sometimes you just need fresh eyes. i've definitely been there." he leaned back in his chair, that nervous energy returning now that the immediate problem was solved. "your code is really clean, by the way. like, really well-structured. that bug was literally the only issue, everything else is solid."

the compliment settled warm in your chest. you realised with a start that you felt calm. actually calm, for the first time all night. your heart rate had slowed. your hands were steady. the overwhelming pressure behind your eyes had eased.

the lab was still too quiet, the emergency lighting still eerie and insufficient, your jeans still soaked with cold coffee. but somehow none of it felt as unbearable as it had fifteen minutes ago. and that was because of him. because jake had crashed into you in the dark and apologised too much and fixed your code and made you feel less alone in this empty building at midnight.

jake was gathering his things, shoving papers and pens back into his backpack with the same energy he'd had while searching for tissues. "i should probably try to find someone about the power situation," he said. "and you should probably change before that coffee stains permanently. there's a campus store in the student centre that's open twenty-four hours, they have overpriced sweatpants but at least they're dry."

"yeah," you said, surprised to find you didn't want him to leave yet. "yeah, i probably should."

he stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, and hesitated. "hey, um. if you ever need help with code stuff again, or if you just want to work in the lab at the same time, i'm here most nights. usually not spilling beverages on people, but, you know. tonight was special." he smiled awkwardly. you found yourself smiling back, a real smile this time.

"i might take you up on that," you said. meant it.

jake's expression brightened again. that same transformation you'd noticed earlier. he nodded. "cool. yeah, that would be cool. okay. i'm gonna go now before i accidentally break something else." he gave you a small wave, started toward the door, then turned back. "your code really is good, by the way. i wasn't just saying that."

then he was gone, disappearing into the dark hallway beyond the lab. you were alone again. but that realisation, that awareness that a stranger's clumsy kindness had affected you so much, sat uncomfortable and warm in your chest as you saved your work and finally, finally, packed up to leave.

you walked into your lecture the next morning running on four hours of sleep and caffeine-induced alertness that felt vaguely hallucinogenic. your jeans from last night were balled up in your laundry basket, probably stained beyond saving, and you'd thrown on the first clean thing you could find. 

you slid into your usual spot next to yunjin, who was already comparing notes with beomgyu across the aisle. they were your people. your safe zone. the ones you'd suffered through intro courses with, pulled all-nighters with, shared desperate pre-exam breakdowns with.

"you look like death," yunjin said cheerfully, not looking up from her phone.

"thanks. love you too."

"late night?" beomgyu leaned over, stealing one of yunjin's chips. "you missed the group chat meltdown about the algorithms homework."

you hummed noncommittally, pulling out your laptop. your code from last night was still open, that perfect, error-free output staring back at you. you'd submitted it at 12:47 am, seventeen minutes after jake had fixed it. seventeen minutes after he'd disappeared down that dark hallway.

you hadn't told yunjin and beomgyu about any of it. the power outage, the coffee, jake. especially jake. it felt somehow private, like explaining it would cheapen it or make it feel less significant than it had been in the moment.

professor kim walked in, and the room settled into that particular brand of restless attention that morning lectures always had. "alright, alright," she said, pulling up a slide that made half the room groan in unison. "i know you're all thrilled to hear this, but it's time to discuss your semester-long project."

chairs scraped against floors as people twisted around to look at their friends. voices overlapped, people already calling out names, forming pairs out of habit and convenience. you felt yunjin's hand on your arm at the same time beomgyu leaned over.

"partners?" yunjin said.

"obviously we're doing a group," beomgyu added. "the three of us, right?"

you nodded, half-listening, your attention already drifting across the lecture hall. you weren't sure what you were looking for until you found it. him. jake was sitting near the back with a small group of guys you vaguely recognised from other cs classes. he was hunched slightly over his notebook, pen moving across the page, taking notes while everyone else was busy forming alliances. his hair was even messier today, sticking up on one side like he'd rolled out of bed. his glasses kept sliding down his nose and he kept pushing them back up with his index finger, that same nervous gesture from last night.

he looked small somehow, despite being tall. like he was trying to take up less space. one of his friends said something and laughed, nudging jake's shoulder, but jake just smiled politely without really engaging. his attention stayed on his notebook.

you watched him for a moment longer than necessary. watched the way his shoulders curved inward, the way he held his pen, the concentrated furrow of his brow. something in your chest did an uncomfortable little flip.

"so we're agreed then?" yunjin was saying. "i'll handle the frontend, beomgyu can do the database stuff, and you can—"

you stood up. the decision happened before you'd fully processed it, your body moving on instinct or impulse or something you didn't want to examine too closely. your chair scraped loud enough that a few people glanced over.

"actually," you said, already stepping past beomgyu into the aisle. "i'm gonna partner with someone else."

"what?" yunjin's voice pitched up in genuine confusion. "who?"

but you were already walking. moving up the steps toward the back of the lecture hall, weaving between people who were still negotiating partnerships and arguing about skill distributions. you were aware of people watching. of yunjin and beomgyu's matching expressions of confusion. of the way conversations paused as you passed.

jake's friends noticed you first. one of them, a guy with bleached hair, nudged jake's arm and nodded in your direction. another one went quiet mid-sentence, eyes tracking your approach with unconcealed curiosity. jake looked up last, following their gazes, and when his eyes met yours he froze. actually froze, pen suspended over his notebook, lips slightly parted like he'd been about to say something and forgotten how.

you stopped at the edge of their row. suddenly hyperaware of how many people were definitely watching this interaction. "hey," you said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near awkward. "you have a partner yet?"

jake blinked. once, twice. his friends were staring at him now, then at you, then back at him like they were watching a tennis match. "i—what?"

"for the project," you clarified, gesturing vaguely at professor kim who was still explaining requirements at the front of the room. "do you have a partner?"

"i—" jake's hand came up to push his glasses up his nose even though they hadn't moved. his ears were already turning red. "no? i mean, no, i don't, but—" he glanced at his friends, then back at you, looking genuinely lost. "are you—do you mean—"

"i'm asking if you want to partner up," you said, more directly this time. your heart was doing something weird and arrhythmic in your chest. "for the semester project."

the guy with bleached hair made a noise that might have been a strangled laugh. another one of jake's friends just gaped openly. jake himself looked like you'd just spoken to him in a language he only half understood. "you want to—with me?"

"yeah."

"but—" he gestured helplessly toward where yunjin and beomgyu were sitting, both of them now watching with unconcealed shock. "don't you usually work with your friends? i thought—"

"i'm asking you," you said, cutting him off before he could talk himself out of it or before you could overthink what you were doing. "if you already have other plans it's fine, i just thought—" you paused, scrambling for justification that didn't sound insane. "you're good at this stuff. you're a TA. you knew exactly what was wrong with my code last night in like, five seconds. it makes sense. strategically."

strategically. god, you sounded unhinged.

jake stared at you. his friends stared at you. half the lecture hall was probably staring at you at this point. "i—" jake swallowed visibly. "yeah. yes. i mean, if you want to, then—yeah. okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah." he nodded, more firmly this time, though he still looked vaguely shell-shocked. "we can—yeah. that would be—yeah."

his friends exchanged glances that were absolutely loaded with unspoken communication. the bleached hair guy, jungwon you think, was grinning now, looking between you and jake like he'd just witnessed something phenomenal. "well," he said, voice thick with amusement, "this is interesting."

you ignored him. "cool. we should probably meet up sometime this week to go over the requirements?"

"yeah, definitely," jake said quickly, already pulling out his phone with hands that trembled slightly. "i can—do you want my number? or i can get yours, or—we could use email if that's easier—"

"number's fine." you rattled it off, watching him type it into his contacts with endearing focus, tongue poking slightly between his teeth. when he looked up his expression was softer, less panicked. almost shy.

"okay," he said. "i'll text you?"

"sounds good."

you turned to head back down to your seat, acutely aware of the weight of multiple stares following your retreat. yunjin grabbed your arm the second you sat down, eyes wide with questions, but professor kim chose that moment to actually start the lecture and yunjin had to settle for furious whisper-hissing "what the hell was that?" while you studiously ignored her.

you pulled up your laptop, pretending to focus on the slides about project requirements and grading rubrics. but your attention kept drifting. you could feel it, that awareness of jake sitting several rows behind you. you wondered if he was taking notes. if his friends were grilling him. if his ears were still red.

you told yourself this was practical. logical. jake was skilled, focused, clearly knew his stuff. working with him made sense from a grades perspective, from an efficiency perspective. it was a smart choice. strategic, like you'd said.

but the justification felt thin even as you repeated it to yourself. because practical partnerships didn't make your pulse spike like this. strategic choices didn't leave you feeling weirdly breathless, or hyperaware of your phone in your pocket, waiting for a text that might come in an hour or a day. smart decisions didn't come with this flutter of satisfaction sitting warm and dangerous in your chest, the kind that felt unearned and a little reckless.

you'd just chosen jake over your actual friends for a semester-long project. you'd walked across the entire lecture hall in front of everyone to ask him specifically. you'd done it without planning it, without fully understanding why, acting on instinct alone.

your phone buzzed. you grabbed it maybe too quickly, ignoring yunjin's pointed look.

unknown number: hi, it's jake. from the lab? and also from just now. obviously. you know who i am. anyway this is my number. unknown number: we can meet whenever works for you btw. i'm pretty flexible. unknown number: sorry i'm rambling over text now apparently. i'll stop.

despite everything, despite the weirdness of the entire situation, you felt yourself smile. properly smile, which made yunjin lean over and whisper, "oh my god, you're blushing," which you absolutely were not.

you saved his number. typed out a response. deleted it. typed it again.

you: library tomorrow at 6?

his reply came almost instantly.

jake: perfect. i'll see you there.

yeah. perfect. that's exactly what this was.

you'd gotten there ten minutes early, which was ridiculous and you knew it, but you'd told yourself it was just to secure a good table. not because you were nervous. definitely not because you'd changed your shirt three times.

jake showed up at 6:02, slightly out of breath like he'd been rushing, backpack slung over one shoulder and hair even messier than usual. 

"sorry, sorry," he said, sliding into the chair across from you. "my last class ran over and then i couldn't find my charger and—" he stopped himself, ears going pink. "sorry. you don't need the full explanation. i'm here now."

"you're fine," you said, surprised by how much you meant it. "i just got here too."

it was a lie, but whatever.

he pulled out his laptop, a slightly battered thing covered in tech company stickers, and immediately opened what looked like a meticulously organised project folder. 

"so i was thinking we could start by breaking down the requirements," he said, already pulling up the assignment sheet. "if we divide it into modules we can work on different parts simultaneously and then integrate everything at the end. i made a rough outline last night, but obviously we can change whatever you want."

you blinked at him. "you made an outline? already?"

"i—yeah?" he looked uncertain suddenly, like he'd done something wrong. "was that—should i not have? i just thought it would be helpful to have a starting point, but if you wanted to plan it together—"

"no, that's—" you leaned closer to look at his screen, close enough that you could smell whatever soap or shampoo he used. something clean and faintly citrusy. "that's really good actually. you're like, super organised."

"oh." he pushed his glasses up, not quite meeting your eyes. "thanks. i just like having things structured, it makes the actual coding part less chaotic."

you shifted your chair around the table, closing the distance between you under the pretence of seeing his screen better. your knees almost touched under the table. jake didn't seem to notice, already walking you through his outline with the kind of focused enthusiasm that made his whole face more animated. he talked with his hands a little, you realised. small gestures that punctuated his explanations.

it was kind of endearing. he was kind of endearing, in this unpolished, genuine way that made you want to keep watching him talk even though you should probably be paying attention to the actual content of what he was saying.

"—so if we use that framework it'll save us a ton of time on the backend. does that make sense?" he glanced at you, expectant.

"yeah, totally," you said, even though you'd caught maybe half of it. "you're really good at this."

"at what?"

"explaining things. breaking stuff down." you let your voice soften deliberately, the kind of tone you'd use on someone you were interested in. testing. "you must be a really good TA."

jake's expression brightened with genuine pleasure, completely innocent. "oh, thanks! i really like teaching actually. it's really satisfying when something clicks for someone, you know?" he turned back to his laptop. "okay so for the first module, i was thinking we could—"

you felt something deflate slightly in your chest. he'd just. moved on. thanked you politely and redirected straight back to work like you'd commented on the weather.

you tried again twenty minutes later, when he'd finished explaining the database architecture. "seriously, how is your brain even wired like this?" you said, letting your hand rest on the table between you, close enough to his that moving a few inches would mean touching. "like, this would've taken me hours to figure out and you just see it."

"i mean, i've been coding since i was like twelve," jake said, smiling in that self-deprecating way that made your stomach flip. "my dad's a software engineer so i kind of grew up around it. you'd be just as good if you'd had the same exposure." 

he grabbed his water bottle, took a sip, completely oblivious to the way you were looking at him. "anyway, should we start on the initial setup? i can handle the repository if you want to draft the pseudocode for the first function?"

"sure," you said, trying not to sound as frustrated as you felt.

it continued like that. you'd find little ways to compliment him, to touch his arm when he said something funny, to lean into his space. and every single time jake would light up with friendly appreciation and then just. keep going. keep working. keep being nice in this utterly platonic way that was starting to drive you slightly insane.

when you suggested taking a break and offered to buy him coffee, he'd said "oh that's so sweet, but i'm good, i don't want to lose momentum." when you'd asked about his hobbies, trying to find some common ground beyond code, he'd given you a genuine answer about gaming and soccer and then immediately asked about your hobbies with the same earnest interest he gave to literally everything.

he wasn't being cold. wasn't being dismissive. he was just. friendly. sincerely friendly in a way that suggested he thought you were also just being friendly and nothing more. the idea that you might be flirting with him clearly hadn't even crossed his mind.

it shouldn't have bothered you. it was one study session. you barely knew him. but there was something about the way he was so completely unaffected that made you want to push harder, try more obviously, make him see you the way you were apparently seeing him.

which was insane. you were being insane.

"okay i think that's a good stopping point," jake said eventually, glancing at his phone. "we got through way more than i expected, honestly. you're really fast at this."

"we work well together," you said, maybe too much emphasis on the together part.

"yeah," he agreed easily, already packing up his stuff. "this is gonna be way less painful than i thought. usually group projects are a nightmare but i think we're pretty compatible."

compatible. he said it like he was talking about software versions.

you packed up your own stuff, trying to shake off whatever weird frustrated feeling had settled in your chest. this was good. you had a competent partner who was easy to work with. that's what mattered. not whether he noticed when you laughed at his jokes or sat closer than strictly necessary.

the library had gotten dark outside while you'd been working, the early winter darkness that feeking too heavy for eight pm. you pushed through the doors together, the cold air immediately biting at your face.

"which way are you headed?" jake asked, adjusting his backpack.

you pointed toward the east side of campus. "miller hall."

jake stopped walking. just fully stopped and stared at you. "wait, seriously?"

"yeah?"

"i'm in miller," he said, and his face did this thing, this open, delighted thing like you'd just told him something genuinely exciting. "i'm on the fourth floor. what floor are you?"

"third," you said, trying to keep your voice normal even though your brain was already racing ahead. same building. same building. you lived in the same building and you hadn't known. "that's—what are the odds?"

"i know, right?" jake fell into step beside you, and he seemed more relaxed now, less formal than he'd been in the library. "i can't believe we haven't run into each other before. though i guess i'm not around that much, i'm usually either in class or the lab or—" he laughed. "okay i'm making myself sound really boring."

"no you're not," you said, maybe too quickly. "i'm the same way. especially during midterms."

"the worst," he agreed. "hey, at least now if we need to meet up for the project it's super convenient. we can literally just knock on each other's doors."

he said it so casually. so normally, like it was just a nice logistical benefit and nothing more. meanwhile your mind was already cataloguing possibilities. you could time your meals to match his schedule. figure out when he usually left for class. find reasons to be in the common areas when he might pass through. it would look natural, coincidental. just friendly neighbors running into each other.

you were already strategising.

the realisation made something uncomfortable twist in your stomach. this was. this was too much maybe. you were thinking about him too much, cataloguing details about him like you were studying for an exam. getting frustrated when he didn't respond to your flirting even though you had no actual reason to expect him to. you'd had one late-night interaction and now one study session and somehow you were already rearranging your mental map of campus to accommodate his presence in it.

"you good?" jake asked, and you realised you'd gone quiet.

"yeah, just tired."

"same." he smiled at you, easy and warm. "thanks for picking me as your partner, by the way. i know you could've worked with your friends and i'm—i'm really glad you asked me instead. i think this is gonna be fun."

fun. he was looking forward to the project because he thought it would be fun. because he liked coding and teaching and he probably thought you were a cool person to work with. he was just. happy to have company. happy to make a new friend.

meanwhile you were over here planning imaginary coincidental run-ins and getting weirdly possessive over someone who didn't even know you liked him.

god, you were pathetic.

"yeah," you managed. "me too."

you reached miller hall, and jake held the door open for you, still talking about some technique he wanted to try for the project. you half-listened, watching the way his hair flopped over his forehead, the animated way he gestured when he got excited about something.

the elevator ride to your floor felt too short. jake got off with you, said he'd just walk up the extra flight of stairs for the exercise. "text me if you think of anything for the project," he said, already heading toward the stairwell. "or honestly just text me whenever. i'm always on my phone."

then he was gone, and you were standing alone in the hallway outside your door, feeling weirdly deflated and wired at the same time.

your phone buzzed before you'd even gotten your key out.

jake: forgot to say this but your idea for the UI was really smart. i think it's gonna make the whole thing way more intuitive. jake: ok NOW i'm done bothering you. have a good night!

you stared at the messages, that dangerous warm feeling spreading through your chest again. he'd texted you immediately to compliment your idea. with absolutely no prompting.

you were smiling at your phone like an idiot.

yeah. you were definitely pathetic.

"i'm just saying, he's clearly not interested," yunjin said, stabbing her salad with more force than necessary. "like, you've tried everything."

you were sitting in the dining hall, picking at your food while yunjin and beomgyu conducted what was essentially an intervention about your jake situation. an intervention you hadn't asked for and definitely didn't want.

"maybe he's just shy," you said, defensive.

beomgyu snorted. "shy guys still notice when someone's flirting with them. they just get weird about it. this guy sounds like he genuinely has no idea."

"which means he's not into you," yunjin added, gentler now. "and that's fine, you know? you can just be project partners. you don't have to keep torturing yourself."

except the thing was, you weren't entirely convinced jake wasn't interested. or maybe you just didn't want to accept it yet. because he texted you unprompted sometimes, sent you memes he thought you'd find funny, always smiled when he saw you in the hallway. that had to mean something, right?

"i'm not torturing myself," you muttered.

"you've mentioned him like fifteen times in the past hour," beomgyu pointed out.

"have not."

"you literally just told us about how he holds his pen. his pen."

okay. maybe you were torturing yourself a little.

you left the dining hall feeling irritated and restless, your friends' words circling in your head. he's not interested. he has no idea. you're torturing yourself. maybe they were right. probably they were right. you should just focus on the project, get a good grade, and move on like a normal person.

you were cutting through the student centre, not really paying attention to where you were going, when you passed the community bulletin board. the usual chaos of flyers and posters, study abroad programs, club meetings, someone selling a barely-used microwave. your eyes skimmed over it automatically, not really looking.

then you saw his name.

TUTORING AVAILABLE - COMP 101, 201, 301

patient, experienced, flexible schedule

contact: jake sim

there was a row of little tear-off tabs at the bottom with his phone number. several were already missing. the flyer itself was simple, almost plain. you stared at it. people flowed around you, conversations and footsteps and the ambient noise of the student centre, but you just stood there staring at jake's handwritten flyer.

you didn't need tutoring. your grades were fine. good, even. you and jake were in the same advanced class, for god's sake. he'd probably seen your test scores when he was TAing. this would be…obvious. wouldn't it? taking a tab would be transparent and desperate and—

your hand moved before you'd fully decided. the paper tore with a soft sound that felt too loud. you stared at the little strip in your palm, jake's number printed in his neat handwriting even though you already had it saved in your phone.

what were you doing?

you shoved the tab in your pocket and walked away quickly, like someone might have witnessed you doing something incriminating. your heart was beating too fast. this was insane. this was transparent. he was going to see right through it.

but.

but it was also legitimate, wasn't it? people got tutoring all the time, even when their grades were fine. wanting to understand the material better, wanting a different perspective, wanting to be extra prepared. those were all valid reasons. normal reasons. and yeah, maybe you had ulterior motives, but the cover story was solid enough that you could maintain plausible deniability. to him. to yourself.

you made it back to your dorm before you pulled out your phone.

you: hey! i saw your tutoring flyer in the student centre. do you still have availability?

you hit send before you could overthink it. then immediately started overthinking it anyway. he was going to ask why. he was going to point out that you clearly didn't need help. he was going to—

your phone buzzed.

jake<3: oh hey! yeah i have some slots open. but wait, aren't you doing pretty well in class? i've seen your test scores when i'm grading and you're like, consistently in the top range jake<3: not that you CAN'T get tutoring obviously! everyone can benefit from extra help jake<3: i just want to make sure you actually need it and aren't just being nice or something

god, he was even considerate about this. checking in to make sure you weren't wasting your time or money on something you didn't need. being thoughtful and genuine while you were over here manipulating the situation to manufacture more time with him.

you felt a twinge of something uncomfortable. guilt maybe. but you pushed it down.

you: i mean yeah my grades are okay, but i feel like i'm just memorising patterns without really UNDERSTANDING the concepts you know? like i can solve the problems but i couldn't explain WHY you: i just want to make sure i actually get it. especially since the material keeps building on itself

it wasn't entirely a lie. you did sometimes feel like you were pattern-matching your way through assignments. and deeper understanding was always good. these were reasonable concerns. the fact that they weren't your primary motivation didn't make them untrue.

jake<3: oh yeah that makes total sense actually. i see that a lot with students. they can execute but the underlying logic isn't solid jake<3: okay yeah we can definitely work on that! my rate is $20/hour but honestly for you i'd be happy to just do it for free? since we're already working together on the project anyway

you: no way i'm paying you. you're already helping me so much with the project

jake<3: the project is a two person thing, you're helping me just as much jake<3: but okay we can argue about payment later. when works for you?

you felt that warm, dangerous flutter again. he'd offered to tutor you for free. just casually, like it was no big deal. like spending extra time with you was something he actively wanted to do, even without compensation.

you: i'm pretty flexible. whenever you have time

jake<3: thursdays at 7? we could do the library again or somewhere on our floor if you want somewhere quieter jake<3: also i promise i'll actually TEACH and not just fix your code for you like last time lol

you smiled at your phone. somewhere on your floor. which meant his room or yours. which meant private, just the two of you, no other students around.

you: thursdays work for me! 

jake<3: cool! we can switch off. i'll bring snacks jake<3: this'll be fun :)

he'd sent a smiley face. an actual emoticon. it shouldn't have made your heart skip but it did.

you locked your phone and sat on your bed, that satisfaction settling warm in your chest. you'd done it. you'd created a legitimate, recurring excuse to see jake outside of project work. an hour a week, minimum, where you'd have his complete attention. where you could sit close to him in the privacy of a dorm room, help him help you, let those boundaries get just a little bit blurrier.

it was harmless. he was offering tutoring anyway, you were just taking him up on it. and yeah, maybe your motivations weren't entirely pure, but you weren't lying to him. not really. you did want to understand the material better. the fact that you also wanted to be around him more was just. additional context. secondary reasoning.

you were being smart about this, honestly. creating opportunities without being pushy. letting things develop naturally within structures that already existed.

you ignored the small, quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered this was too much. that you were engineering situations and manufacturing proximity and maybe that wasn't as harmless as you wanted to believe. that jake was offering to help you in good faith while you had an agenda he knew nothing about.

you were good at ignoring that voice.

your phone buzzed again.

jake<3: btw i've been thinking about the database structure and i had an idea

and just like that you were smiling again, typing back, that uncomfortable feeling dissolving into something easier and warmer and more immediately gratifying.

it was fine. everything was fine. this was just tutoring. just spending time with someone you enjoyed being around. there was nothing wrong with that.

nothing wrong with it at all.

you'd been doing the tutoring sessions for three weeks when your roommate officially moved out. well, not officially officially. her stuff was still there, her side of the room still technically occupied. but she'd been spending every night at her boyfriend's off-campus apartment for the past month, and one day she just stopped pretending she was coming back.

"i'm still paying rent," she'd said, shoving clothes into a duffel bag. "so like, it's still my room. i'll probably crash here sometimes. but you basically have the place to yourself."

you'd nodded sympathetically while internally celebrating. your own space. privacy. no need to coordinate schedules or deal with her boyfriend's annoying habits. it was perfect.

it took you less than a day to realise it was perfect for other reasons too.

the next tutoring session was supposed to be in the library. thursday at seven, like always. but you'd been sitting in your empty apartment that afternoon, looking at your space with new eyes, and the idea had planted itself so naturally you'd almost convinced yourself it was practical.

you: hey, would you maybe want to do tutoring at my place tonight instead? my roommate moved in with her boyfriend so it's way quieter than the library you: totally fine if you prefer the library though!

the response took longer than usual. long enough that you started second-guessing yourself. maybe this was too much. too obvious. crossing some line from study partner into something else.

jake<3: oh jake<3: um jake<3: yeah that's fine. if you're sure? jake<3: i don't want to like. intrude or anything jake<3: but yeah quieter is definitely better for focusing

you: you're not intruding i literally invited you haha you: i'm in 3B. just come by at 7

jake<3: okay! see you then

you spent the next two hours in a cleaning frenzy you absolutely did not want to examine too closely. you weren't trying to impress him. you just wanted the place to look nice and presentable. the fact that you changed your clothes twice and lit a candle that made the whole apartment smell like vanilla and sandalwood was just. coincidence.

the knock came at exactly seven. jake was annoyingly punctual.

you opened the door to find him standing in the hallway looking uncertain, backpack slung over one shoulder, holding a bag of chips. "hi," he said. "i brought snacks. i didn't know what you liked so i just got the variety pack."

"you didn't have to do that."

"i know, but—" he shifted his weight. "i don't know, it felt weird showing up empty-handed."

you stepped back to let him in, watching as he moved into your space with obvious hesitation. he didn't walk in so much as carefully entered, like he was worried about disturbing something. his eyes went immediately to your walls, taking in the art prints you'd hung, the string lights, the bookshelf crammed with novels and textbooks. then to your desk setup, the small kitchen area, the couch that your roommate had left behind.

"wow," he said quietly. "this is. really nice."

"it's just a dorm apartment."

"no, i know, but—" he gestured vaguely at everything. "it's decorated. like, actually decorated. my place looks like a prison cell compared to this." he was still standing near the door, like he hadn't fully committed to being here. "is that an original print?"

you glanced at the framed artwork he was pointing at. "yeah. local artist. i got it at a campus market thing."

"it's really cool." he finally took a few more steps inside, setting his backpack down carefully on the floor like he was afraid it might scuff something. his attention caught on your kitchen counter, where you'd left out the fancy coffee you'd bought yesterday. the expensive cheese and crackers. the fruit you'd pre-cut and arranged in a bowl because apparently you were that person now.

jake went quiet for a second. then he laughed, but it sounded a little uncomfortable. "okay i have to ask. are you like, rich?"

you felt your face heat. "what? no."

"because this—" he gestured at your apartment again, at the candle burning on your coffee table, the throw blanket artfully draped over your couch, the general aesthetic coherence of the space. "this seems like. i don't know. very put together for a college student."

"i just like my space to feel nice," you said, defensive. "there's nothing wrong with that."

"no, definitely not! i didn't mean—" he ran a hand through his hair, flustered. "i just meant. my room has like, a bed and a desk and some clothes on the floor. this looks like an apartment from a magazine. in a good way," he added quickly. "it's impressive. i'm just. you know. mildly intimidated."

"don't be intimidated," you said, softer now. trying for casual. "seriously, make yourself comfortable. do you want something to drink? i have coffee, tea, juice, those fancy sparkling waters—"

"you have fancy sparkling water?"

"they were on sale."

they were absolutely not on sale. you'd bought them specifically because you remembered jake mentioning he liked trying different flavours. but he didn't need to know that.

"um, sure. i'll try one." he was still standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, like he couldn't figure out where he was allowed to exist.

you grabbed two cans from the fridge, handing him one and gesturing toward the couch. "we can work there if you want. or the desk. whatever's comfortable."

"couch is good," he said, finally sitting down and immediately looking slightly less tense. he opened the sparkling water, took a sip, and made a surprised noise. "oh this is actually really good."

"told you." you sat next to him, closer than you would have in the library. not touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth of him next to you. close enough that when he leaned forward to pull his laptop out of his backpack, you caught that familiar scent of soap and citrus.

he pulled up the lesson he'd prepared, something about optimisation algorithms, and fell into his teaching rhythm. you'd noticed this about jake before. when he was explaining code, he became more confident. less apologetic. his hands moved as he talked, tracing invisible diagrams in the air, and his whole face became more animated.

you were trying to focus. really, you were. but you kept getting distracted by the fact that he was here, in your space, sitting on your couch. his knee bumped yours at one point and he apologised even though it was barely contact. you told him it was fine. his handwriting was neat when he sketched out examples in your notebook. he had a small scar on his left hand you'd never noticed before.

"are you following?" he asked, glancing over at you.

"yeah," you said, snapping back to attention. "sorry. just thinking."

"it's kind of a dense topic," he said, apologetic again. "we can take a break if you need."

"no, keep going. you're good at this."

something in his expression softened. "thanks. i—i actually really like doing this. the tutoring, i mean. it's nice having someone to talk through concepts with who actually cares about understanding them properly." he paused, looking around your apartment again like he was seeing it with fresh eyes. "and this is. yeah. this is better than the library for sure."

"yeah?"

"the library's always so loud, even in the quiet sections. and people keep interrupting to ask if they can take chairs from our table." he settled back into your couch slightly, his shoulders loosening. "this is way better. i can actually think here."

you felt that dangerous satisfaction bloom in your chest. this is better. i can actually think here. he was comfortable. in your space. comfortable enough to relax, to take up room, to exist without that careful hesitation he'd had when he first arrived.

"we should do all our sessions here," you said, trying to sound casual. "if you're cool with it."

jake glanced at you, then around the apartment again. for a second you thought he might question it. might recognise this for what it was. but then he just smiled, easy and genuine. "yeah, i'd like that. this is really nice."

"cool," you said. your heart was doing that annoying fluttery thing again.

you went back to the lesson, jake's voice steady and patient as he walked you through increasingly complex problems. his knee stayed pressed against yours. he'd stopped apologising for taking up space. he reached for the fancy crackers you'd set out without asking if it was okay first, just casual and comfortable like he belonged here.

and god help you, you liked seeing him like this. liked having him in your space, surrounded by your things, relaxed and focused and entirely unaware of how much thought you'd put into creating this exact scenario.

he was more comfortable here than he should be. settling into your life with an ease that should have alarmed you but instead just made you want to pull him deeper.

you were playing a game he didn't know existed. creating intimacy in careful increments. manufacturing closeness that felt organic to him but was entirely designed by you.

"okay your turn," jake said, pushing your laptop toward you. "try implementing that function we just talked through."

you pulled the computer into your lap, fingers moving over the keys, hyper-aware of jake watching. of his presence next to you, patient and encouraging. of how easy it would be to let this become routine. thursday nights on your couch, just the two of you, the rest of the world locked outside.

professor kim handed back midterms on a wednesday, and the energy in the lecture hall was exactly what you'd expect. nervous shuffling, people immediately comparing scores, that girl in the front row who always cried regardless of her grade already tearing up.

you flipped your exam over and saw the 100 staring back at you. perfect score. you felt a flush of satisfaction that had nothing to do with the grade itself and everything to do with the fact that jake would see it.

"holy shit," yunjin whispered, leaning over to look. "you got a perfect score?"

"apparently."

"that's insane. i got an 87 and i thought i did well." she shook her head, impressed and maybe slightly annoyed. "what did jake think? he must be so proud, that's basically a direct result of his tutoring."

speaking of jake, he was two rows behind you, and you could hear his friends' voices carrying.

"dude, you got a 98," one of them said. "that's insane."

"i missed this one question," jake said, and he sounded genuinely disappointed. "i can't believe i mixed up the time complexity."

you turned around without really thinking about it, catching his eye. he was already looking at you, and his face did this thing, this hopeful uncertain thing. "how'd you do?"

you held up your exam. his eyes widened.

"you got a hundred?" he said it loud enough that a few people glanced over. then he was standing up, moving past his friends, coming down to your row with his exam still in his hand. "holy shit, that's—that's amazing. you—" he stopped himself, looking almost embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. "sorry, i'm like. weirdly excited about this."

"don't apologise," you said, smiling despite yourself. "you sound more excited than i am."

"because i—" he gestured at your exam, then at you. "you understood it. like really understood it. i could tell during our sessions that things were clicking but seeing it actually translate to a perfect score is just—" he ran his hand through his hair, grinning in a way that made your stomach flip. "i'm really proud of you."

the words hit you weird. i'm proud of you. said with such genuine warmth, such unironic sincerity. like your success was somehow his success too. like he was personally invested in your performance because he'd helped you get there.

except you hadn't really needed the help. you'd manufactured the entire situation. you'd been doing fine before the tutoring started and you'd probably have gotten a perfect score regardless. jake's proud smile was based on a false premise. he thought he'd helped you achieve something when really you'd just. used him. used his time and his patience and his genuine desire to help people, all so you could sit close to him once a week.

something uncomfortable twisted in your chest. you shoved it down.

"i couldn't have done it without you," you said, because that's what you were supposed to say. what he expected to hear. even if it made you feel slightly sick.

"i know, i know. it's a good grade. i just hate making careless mistakes." he smiled at you again, softer this time. "but seriously, i'm really happy for you. you worked really hard for this."

"we should celebrate," you said, before you could second-guess it. "both of us. good scores, successful tutoring, whatever. come over tonight? i'll make dinner, we can watch a movie. my treat, as a thank you."

jake hesitated, just for a second. "you don't have to thank me."

"i want to," you said firmly with a smile. "you've been helping me for weeks and not accepting any payment. the least i can do is feed you."

"when you put it that way." he was smiling again, that easy smile that made your heart do stupid things. "yeah, okay. what time?"

"seven?"

"perfect."

...

you went slightly overboard with dinner. not crazy overboard, just. more effort than was strictly necessary for a casual thank-you meal. homemade pasta, the good parmesan, a salad that actually had more than three ingredients. you'd also bought wine, which felt very adult and sophisticated until you remembered you were literally just having your study partner over.

jake showed up at seven on the dot, holding a bag of cookies from the expensive bakery near campus. "i know you said your treat, but i can't show up empty-handed," he explained, handing them over. "it's like, physically impossible for me."

"you're ridiculous."

"i've been told." he stepped inside, immediately more comfortable than he'd been that first time. he knew where to put his shoes now, where to set his bag. he went straight for the couch like he belonged there.

dinner was easy. conversation flowed naturally, jumping from classes to campus gossip to a debate about whether the dining hall pizza was underrated or genuinely terrible. jake argued passionately for underrated, gesturing with his fork, getting sauce on his chin that he didn't notice until you pointed it out. he laughed, embarrassed, wiping it away.

"wine?" you offered, after you'd cleared the plates.

"oh, um. sure?" he looked uncertain. "i'm not really a big drinker."

"me neither. but we're celebrating, right?"

"right." he accepted the glass you poured, taking a small sip and making a face. "god, why do people like this? it tastes like someone made juice go bad on purpose."

you laughed despite yourself. "it's an acquired taste."

"that's what people say about things that are objectively bad." but he took another sip anyway, settling back into the couch as you pulled up netflix.

you ended up on some action movie neither of you had seen, the kind with improbable stunts and a plot that didn't require much attention. which was good, because you weren't really watching it. you were too aware of jake next to you, closer than he needed to be, his shoulder occasionally brushing yours. he'd finished his wine faster than you expected and seemed looser now, more animated. he kept making commentary on the movie, pointing out plot holes and questionable physics, his hands moving as he talked.

"—and there's no way that building would still be structurally sound after that explosion," he was saying, gesturing at the screen. "like, basic engineering, you know?"

"you're thinking too hard about it."

"i can't help it. my brain won't turn off." he glanced at you, something warm in his expression. "this is nice though. just hanging out. we're always studying or talking about the project, it's cool to just…exist. without an agenda."

without an agenda. the words hit harder than they should have. because you did have an agenda. you'd had one this entire time. this whole evening was carefully constructed, from the homemade dinner to the wine to the deliberately casual intimacy of it all.

"yeah," you managed. "it's nice."

the movie continued. jake shifted closer, his thigh pressing against yours. you didn't move away. his arm ended up along the back of the couch, not quite around your shoulders but close enough that you could feel the warmth of it. neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you adjusted either.

"can i ask you something?" jake said during a particularly slow part of the movie.

"sure."

"why did you pick me? for the project, i mean." he was looking at you now instead of the screen, his expression curious and open. "you could've worked with your friends. people you already knew. but you walked all the way across the lecture hall to ask me."

your heart kicked up. "i told you. you're good at this stuff."

"yeah, but." he paused, like he was trying to figure out how to phrase something. "it felt like. i don't know. like you went out of your way. and i've been trying to figure out if i'm reading too much into it or if there was something else."

the air felt suddenly thinner. "something else like what?"

"i don't know." he laughed, self-conscious. "i'm probably being weird. forget i said anything."

"jake."

"i just—" he met your eyes, and there was something vulnerable in his expression that made your breath catch. "i really like spending time with you. like, more than i probably should for someone who's just a project partner and tutoring student. and sometimes i think maybe you. i don't know, feel the same? but i'm also really bad at reading these things so i'm probably completely wrong."

oh. oh.

"you're not wrong," you said quietly.

his eyes widened slightly. "i'm not?"

instead of answering, you leaned in. gave him enough time to pull back, to stop this, but he didn't. he met you halfway, his lips soft and uncertain against yours. for a second neither of you moved, the kiss chaste and almost careful. then something shifted. his hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you pressed closer, your fingers curling into his shirt.

jake made a soft sound against your mouth, surprise or maybe pleasure, and kissed you back with more confidence. his other hand found your waist, tentative at first then firmer, pulling you closer. you ended up in his lap somehow, his hands spanning your back, your fingers threading through his hair. he tasted like wine and something sweet from the cookies he'd brought.

"is this okay?" he whispered against your lips, breathing hard.

"yes," you said, and kissed him again before he could second-guess it.

his hands moved under your shirt, warm against your skin, and you felt him shiver when you rolled your hips experimentally. "god," he breathed, sounding almost pained. "we should—are we really—"

"do you want to stop?"

"no. god, no. i just—" he looked up at you, pupils blown, lips kiss-swollen. "i didn't think this would happen. i'm not. i don't usually."

"it's okay," you said softly, meaning it. "we don't have to do anything you don't want."

jake didn’t stop you. instead, he seemed to melt into the contact, his hands trembling as they slid further up your back, skin hot through the thin fabric of your shirt. when you moved to guide him off the couch and onto the rug, he followed with a sort of dazed compliance, his glasses slightly askew on his face.

you knelt between his legs, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate. the movie was still playing—some distant sound of tires screeching—but all you could hear was the ragged, uneven hitch of jake’s breath. when you reached for the button of his jeans, his hand flew to your wrist, not to stop you, but just to steady himself. his knuckles were white.

"are you sure?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "i—i'm not... i don't want to mess this up. our project, the tutoring... i don't want to make things weird for you."

"jake," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. "shut up and let me."

he let out a shaky, half-strangled laugh, his head hitting the base of the couch as he let go of your wrist. "okay. okay, yeah. shutting up."

as you eased his jeans down, you realised the lanky, awkward way he carried himself in the halls was a massive deception. he was built with a surprising, heavy sturdiness that the oversized hoodies always hid. his legs were long, his thighs thick with the kind of muscle that suggested he actually did play soccer as more than just a hobby. and when you finally freed him, you couldn't help the small, sharp intake of breath that escaped you.

"jake," you breathed, your eyes widening. "holy..."

he groaned, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, and covered his eyes with his forearm. "don't. don't look at me like that. i know. i'm sorry, is it... is it too much? i can—"

"it's perfect," you cut him off, reaching out to touch him. his skin was searing, and the moment your fingers closed around him, his entire body jolted like he’d been hit with a live wire.

when you leaned forward to take him into your mouth, jake’s reaction was explosive. he arched off the floor, his fingers tangling desperately in your hair, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. he was so sensitive, so completely overwhelmed by the sensation that it felt like he was losing his grip on reality.

"oh god," he choked out, his voice high and strained. "wait, wait—that's—you’re so... the pressure, i can't—"

you didn't slow down. you liked the way he lost his composure, the way the articulate, logical TA was reduced to incoherent stutters. you used your hands to keep him steady, your tongue swirling around the head of him, and jake’s hips began to move in a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm. he was trying to keep some semblance of control, trying to stay "polite," but the sheer intensity of it was breaking him.

"i'm gonna... i'm actually gonna..." he gasped, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling you closer until he was practically burying himself in you. "please, don't stop. don't stop, just like that—right there—"

he hit his limit with a loud, guttural shout that was muffled only by the back of his hand as he bit down on his own knuckles to stay quiet. his body went rigid, muscles in his arms and chest standing out in sharp relief as he came, the force of it leaving him limp and shuddering against the couch.

it took him a long time to come back down. for several minutes, the only sound in the room was his heavy, labouring breath and the flickering light of the tv. you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a fierce, glowing sense of triumph. he looked completely wrecked—hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear, chest heaving.

you felt powerful. you’d spent weeks engineering this, calculating every move, and seeing him like this—totally undone by you—was better than any perfect exam score.

"you okay?" you asked, leaning your chin on his knee.

jake let out a long, shaky exhale, finally moving his arm to look at you. his eyes were hazy, his face flushed a deep, beautiful red. "i... think my brain just short-circuited," he whispered, a small, dazed smile tugging at his lips. 

"in a good way?"

"in the best way." he reached out, his fingers trembling as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "thank you. seriously. i don't—i don't even know what to say."

you smiled, leaning into his touch. the apartment was warm, the air still smelling of vanilla. "you don't have to say anything. you should just stay."

the words were soft, natural. it felt like the obvious next step. but the second they left your mouth, you felt the shift.

it was subtle at first—the way jake’s fingers went still against your skin. then his pupils, which had been blown wide with pleasure, suddenly constricted. he blinked, the haziness clearing as his internal "problem-solving mode" kicked back in with a vengeance.

"stay?" he repeated, his voice sounding suddenly small.

"yeah. it's late, and it's cold out. just stay over. we can... i don't know, wake up and have coffee. maybe look at the project again."

jake’s eyes darted toward his hands, then to his backpack, then to the door. the relaxation in his shoulders vanished, replaced by a rigid, frantic tension. he looked like he’d just realised he was standing in the middle of a minefield.

"i—" he started, scrambling to pull his jeans up. he was moving so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. "i can't. i mean, i should... i have that grading to finish. for kim. and i—i didn't bring my toothbrush. or my meds. and my roommate, he—he'll wonder where i am. he gets worried."

"jake, it’s fine, you can borrow—"

"no!" he said, a bit too loudly. he was fumbling with his belt, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely loop it through. he wouldn't look at you. his face wasn't flushed with pleasure anymore; it was pale, his expression twisted into something that looked dangerously like panic. "no, i really should go. i’m sorry. i just... i realised the time. i have to go."

you stood up, feeling a cold, hollow pit open in your stomach. "did i do something wrong? was it... was it too much?"

"no! no, it was... it was amazing," he said, finally getting his shoes on, not even bothering to tie the laces. he grabbed his backpack, clutching it to his chest like a shield. "it was too amazing. that's the... that's the problem. i'm—i'm not good at this. i think i need to... i need to think. logically. about the implications."

"the implications?" you asked, your voice rising with a sharp, hurt edge. "it was just a night, jake. it doesn't have to be a 'logical problem' to solve."

"i know, i know. i'm sorry. i’m just... i'm a mess." he backed toward the door, his hand fumbling for the handle behind his back. "i'll text you? about the project? we still have that deadline on tuesday."

"jake—"

"goodnight! thank you for dinner. the pasta was really... the texture was perfect. okay. bye."

he practically fell out of the door, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway as he sprinted toward the stairs.

the click of the door closing felt final. you stood in the centre of your perfectly decorated, candle-lit apartment, surrounded by the remnants of the dinner you’d spent hours on. the half-empty wine glasses, the bag of expensive cookies, the rumpled rug.

you felt a hot, stinging prickle behind your eyes. you’d done everything right. you’d been strategic, patient, and kind. you’d gotten him to open up, to trust you, to want you. and yet, watching him run away like you were a bug in his code—something to be deleted or fixed—hurt more than any midterm failure ever could.

you sat back down on the couch, the silence of the room suddenly feeling just as oppressive as it had back in the computer lab. you picked up your phone, looking at his last text. this'll be fun :)

you threw the phone onto the cushions and buried your face in your hands, the smell of his citrus shampoo still clinging to your skin, mocking you.

jake didn't text.

you stared at your phone for the entire next day, watching the screen like you could will a message into existence. the "i'll text you" he'd thrown over his shoulder before fleeing felt increasingly like a polite lie. by saturday afternoon you broke first.

you: hey, you okay?

the message sat there. delivered, but no response.

you tried again sunday morning, going for casual.

you: still on for project work this week?

still no response.

by monday you'd moved past confusion into something that felt uncomfortably like panic. this wasn't how things worked. people didn't just. stop responding to you. they didn't ignore you or avoid you or remove you from their orbit like you were some problem to be managed. you were used to being wanted, pursued, the one who had to let people down gently. this reversed dynamic was unfamiliar and honestly humiliating.

you saw him in the dining hall on tuesday. he was with his friends, laughing at something one of them said, looking completely normal. like nothing had happened. like he hadn't been on your couch four days ago falling apart under your touch.

you started walking toward their table before you could think better of it, but jake's eyes flicked up, met yours for a fraction of a second, and then he was standing, gathering his tray, saying something to his friends. they all got up and left. just. left. walked out the side exit while you stood there holding your lunch like an idiot.

yunjin grabbed your arm. "okay, what the hell was that?"

"nothing," you said, but your voice came out wrong. 

"that was not nothing. did something happen with you and jake?"

"no. i don't know. it's complicated."

it wasn't complicated. it was actually pretty simple. you'd pushed too hard and now he wanted nothing to do with you.

wednesday he wasn't in his usual spot in lecture. you spent the entire class scanning the room, finally spotting him in the very back corner, a place he'd never sat before. he kept his eyes on his laptop the entire time, didn't look up once. when class ended he was the first one out the door.

thursday was supposed to be tutoring. seven pm, his room or yours, the standing appointment you'd had for weeks now. you waited in your apartment, laptop open to the half-finished project, telling yourself he'd show up. he was responsible and dedicated. he wouldn't just bail without saying anything.

seven came and went. then seven-thirty. by eight you accepted he wasn't coming.

you: are we still working together on the project? i need to know so i can plan accordingly.

again, no response.

friday morning you were walking to class when you saw him ahead of you on the path. for once he hadn't spotted you first. you sped up, closing the distance, and watched in real time as he seemed to sense your presence. his shoulders tensed. then he took a sharp left turn down a path that definitely wasn't toward any of his classes. he was actively avoiding you. taking different routes. altering his entire routine just to not run into you.

something hot and humiliated burned in your chest.

by next week, you'd had enough. you knew his schedule. knew he had algorithms right before lunch on mondays, in the engineering building, third floor. you positioned yourself outside the classroom before class ended, ignoring the curious looks from other students filing out. you spotted jake immediately when the doors opened. he saw you at the same moment and actually stopped walking, causing someone behind him to bump into his back.

"we need to talk," you said.

"i have—i need to get to—"

"jake." your voice came out sharper than intended. "five minutes. please."

something in his expression shifted. resignation maybe. he nodded once, following you to an empty study room down the hall. you closed the door. the small space suddenly felt suffocating.

"you've been ignoring me," you said.

"i know."

"for a week. you didn't text, you didn't show up to tutoring, you're literally avoiding me on campus."

"i know," he said again, quieter. he wasn't looking at you, his eyes fixed somewhere around your shoulder. "i'm sorry. that wasn't— i should have communicated better."

"so communicate now. what's going on?"

jake was quiet for a long moment. when he finally spoke, his voice was careful. measured. "what happened last week. that crossed a line for me."

"we both wanted it."

"did we?" he looked at you now, and there was something in his expression that made your stomach drop. "because i've been thinking about it a lot. about how we got there. and i feel like. i don't know. like maybe i missed something."

"what do you mean?"

"the tutoring," he said. "you didn't actually need it, did you? your grades were already good. and the project. you had friends you could have worked with. people you actually knew. but you picked me." he paused. "why did you pick me?"

the question hung in the air between you. you could lie. deflect. but something about the way he was looking at you, patient and a little sad, made it feel pointless.

"i liked you," you said finally. "i wanted to spend time with you."

"okay." he nodded slowly. "so the tutoring was. what. an excuse? a way to manufacture time together?"

"it wasn't like that."

"wasn't it though?" there was no anger in his voice. just. tiredness. "because from my perspective, i thought i was helping someone who needed help. i thought we were becoming friends. and then suddenly we're… doing that. and i'm trying to figure out when the shift happened and i can't. because maybe there was no shift. maybe that's what you wanted the whole time and i just didn't see it."

"i did want to be your friend," you said, defensive now. "i wasn't. it's not like i was using you."

"weren't you?"

the words hit harder than they should have. because he wasn't wrong. you had used him. used his kindness, his eagerness to help, his complete inability to see through your motivations. you'd engineered situations and manufactured proximity and told yourself it was harmless.

"i like you," jake said, and somehow that made it worse. "i really do. but i feel. god, i don't even know how to explain it. exposed? like you saw something in me that made me an easy target and you just. went for it. and i didn't even realise what was happening until it had already happened."

"that's not—"

"and the thing is," he continued, talking over you gently, "you're so far out of my league. like, objectively. you're smart and pretty and confident and you have your shit together. and i'm just. me. i'm awkward and i ramble and i spend friday nights debugging code for fun. so the fact that you were interested never made sense. i kept waiting for it to click, for me to understand why, and now i think i do. it wasn't about me. it was about. i don't know. the chase? the conquest? i was a project to you."

"no," you said, but your voice came out weak. "jake, that's not true. you weren't a project."

"then what was i?"

you didn't have an answer. or you did, but it was complicated and messy and saying it out loud would mean admitting things you didn't want to admit.

jake sighed. "i'm not trying to be cruel. i'm really not. but being around you right now makes me feel uncomfortable. like i can't trust my own judgement because i didn't see any of this coming. and that's. that's my issue to work through. but i need space to do it."

"what about the class project?"

"we can do it over email. divide up the work, combine it at the end. we don't have to see each other."

"and tutoring?"

"i think we should stop. you don't actually need it anyway."

each sentence felt like a door closing. practical, reasonable, and completely final.

"i'm sorry," you said, and meant it. "i didn't mean to. i wasn't trying to hurt you."

"i know," jake said, and he sounded sincere. "i don't think you set out to do anything malicious. i just think you didn't really consider how it would feel from my side. and now we're here."

"so that's it? we just stop talking?"

"for now, yeah. maybe later we can be normal around each other. but right now i need. distance."

he moved toward the door, his hand on the handle. you wanted to say something, anything that would fix this. some argument that would make him see you differently. but looking at his face, at the quiet certainty there, you knew there was nothing you could say. he'd made up his mind. he'd set a boundary. and you had no choice but to respect it.

"i really am sorry," you said again.

"i know," jake said. "me too."

then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him with that same horrible finality. you stood there in the empty study room, staring at the space where he'd been.

you couldn't even argue with his reasoning. everything he'd said was true. you had manufactured situations. you had used his kindness and his obliviousness to get what you wanted. you'd told yourself it was harmless, that your feelings were real even if your methods were questionable.

but intent didn't matter when the impact was someone feeling manipulated and exposed.

you left the study room feeling hollowed out. the campus looked the same. people laughed and talked and went about their days. somewhere out there jake was probably headed to lunch with his friends, relieved to have finally said what he needed to say.

and you were just. alone. with the sharp realisation that you'd ruined something before it even had a chance to be real.

the party was exactly the kind of loud, chaotic mess you needed. bass thrumming through the floors, bodies packed into every available space, the air thick with sweat and cheap alcohol and too many competing perfumes. yunjin had dragged you here, insisting you needed to "get out of your head" after moping around for two weeks straight.

so here you were. red cup in hand, smile fixed in place, laughing at jokes you weren't really hearing. performing normalcy while your brain kept circling the same thoughts on loop. jake's face in that study room. the careful way he'd said i need space. the hollow feeling that had taken up permanent residence in your chest.

"you good?" beomgyu asked, leaning close to be heard over the music.

"yeah, great," you said automatically, taking another drink.

you were on your third. or fourth. you'd stopped counting. the alcohol sat warm in your stomach but hadn't managed to quiet your thoughts yet. maybe if you drank enough you'd stop replaying every conversation with jake, analysing every moment for signs you'd missed, evidence of how thoroughly you'd fucked everything up.

"i'm gonna get another drink," you said to no one in particular, pushing through the crowd toward the kitchen.

that's when you saw him.

jake. standing near the makeshift bar someone had set up on the counter, red cup in hand, talking to a girl you didn't recognise. and he was laughing. actually laughing, head thrown back, completely at ease in a way that made something hot and ugly twist in your chest.

because he never looked like that with you. even before everything went wrong, even during those tutoring sessions in your apartment when you'd thought you were building something real, he'd always been slightly careful and polite, like he was containing himself. but now he was loose and animated, gesturing with his free hand while the girl laughed at whatever he was saying, her hand resting on his arm.

her hand was on his arm.

you watched as she leaned closer, saying something that made jake grin. that specific grin, the one where his eyes crinkled at the corners and you could see his perfect teeth on display. you'd thought that smile was special. something you'd earned. but apparently he was just like this, with everyone who wasn't you.

the jealousy hit so hard it felt physical. burning through your chest, turning your vision sharp and focused. you were moving before you'd decided to, weaving through people, your jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

jake saw you coming. his smile faltered, something uncertain crossing his face. "hey—"

"who's this?" you said, gesturing at the girl. your voice came out sharper than you'd intended, heavy with something you couldn't quite name.

the girl looked between you and jake, confused. "i'm mina. jungwon's sister remember? we just met like ten minutes ago."

"oh right." you focused on jake, ignoring her entirely. "you look like you're having fun."

"i—yeah?" jake's eyebrows drew together. "it's a party?"

"funny how you can make time for parties but couldn't respond to any of my texts about the assignment."

"i told you we could do it over email—"

"is that what you're doing right now? project work?" you knew you sounded irrational, accusatory, but you couldn't stop. the words kept spilling out, poisoned by alcohol and jealousy and two weeks of feeling like you'd been the only one affected by any of this. 

"or are you just. moving on? found someone new to—"

"okay, i'm gonna go," mina said, backing away with her hands up. "this seems like. a thing. nice meeting you, jake."

she disappeared into the crowd. jake stared at you, his expression shifting from confused to something harder. "what the hell was that?"

"you tell me. you've been ignoring me for two weeks and now you're here flirting with random girls?"

"flirting?" jake's voice pitched up slightly. "flirting? i was literally just talking to her. she asked where the bathroom was and then we started chatting about the music. that's—that's not flirting, that's called being polite."

"she had her hand on your arm."

"so?" jake looked genuinely baffled now. "people touch arms when they talk. that doesn't mean anything. and even if it did—" he stopped himself, jaw tightening. "i don't owe you an explanation. you don't get to. we're not together. we're not anything."

the words hit exactly where they were meant to. "right. because you decided we're not."

"no, because you decided we weren't, like a month ago when you started playing games instead of just being honest." his voice was rising now, frustration bleeding through. "and now you're mad because i'm talking to someone else? you don't get to do that. you don't get to manipulate me into something and then act possessive when i try to move on."

"i'm not—" you started, but stopped. because he was right. you were being possessive and irrational. reading intent into a harmless conversation because you wanted there to be something there. wanted confirmation that jake was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

but he wasn't. he was just living his life. talking to people at parties. laughing easily with strangers. completely unaffected while you spiralled.

"i wasn't flirting with her," jake said, quieter now. tired. "i was just being friendly. that's what normal people do. they don't engineer entire relationships or manufacture situations. they just exist around each other."

"i know," you said, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have. that was out of line."

jake nodded once, already turning away. "yeah. it was."

you watched him disappear back into the crowd, leaving you standing alone by the kitchen counter. your hands were shaking. you downed the rest of your drink in one go, the burn doing nothing to quiet the noise in your head.

you'd just proven everything he'd said about you. possessive. manipulative. unable to let go. you'd projected your own feelings onto a completely innocent interaction and made a scene because you couldn't handle seeing him okay when you were so thoroughly not okay.

you'd been so certain. so sure he was flirting, that the girl meant something, that you'd caught him in some kind of lie. but you'd been wrong. completely, embarrassingly wrong. because you didn't actually know what jake was thinking. you never had. you'd just assumed, projected, filled in the gaps with your own narrative.

and now he was probably telling his friends what a psycho you were. probably regretting he'd ever let you into his life in the first place.

you grabbed another drink.

…

the party had devolved into that late-night haze where everything blurred together. people you didn't recognise, conversations you weren't part of, music that had gotten somehow both quieter and more invasive. you'd lost track of yunjin and beomgyu somewhere around drink number six. or seven. the room tilted slightly when you moved too fast.

you were trying to find your jacket, ready to call it a night, when you spotted him. jake. sitting alone on a couch in the corner, looking absolutely exhausted. his head kept drooping forward like he was fighting to stay conscious, then jerking back up. his eyes were half-closed, his usual careful posture completely abandoned.

you should walk past him. nothing good could come from another interaction tonight. you'd already embarrassed yourself once. but your feet carried you closer anyway, some magnetic pull you couldn't quite resist even knowing it was a bad idea.

you were almost past him when his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "don't," he said, not looking at you. his voice was rough, slurred slightly. "don't leave."

you stopped. "jake—"

"been trying," he mumbled, his grip loosening but not releasing. "trying so hard. but you make it impossible."

"what are you talking about?"

he finally looked up at you, and his eyes were unfocused, glassy with alcohol. "you. i'm talking about you. can't stop thinking about you. it's driving me insane."

your heart lurched. "you're drunk."

"i know but so are you," he said, like that explained everything. "that's the only reason i'm saying this. because sober me knows better. sober me has self-control and boundaries and all that shit." he pulled gently on your wrist, making you stumble slightly closer. "but drunk me is tired. so tired of pretending i don't want you."

"you said you needed space."

"i do need space. because when i'm around you i can't think straight. i can't trust myself." his words were coming out uneven, tripping over each other. "you think i was avoiding you because i was mad? i was avoiding you because if i saw you i'd—" he made a frustrated noise. "i'd do something stupid. like this. this is stupid."

you sat down next to him, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. "jake—"

"you're so pretty," he said, almost accusatory. "and you smell good. and you're smart, like actually smart, not just good at school. and when you laugh it's. it does things to me. and i hate it. i hate that you have this much power over me when i don't even know if you actually like me or if i'm just… convenient."

"i do like you," you said quietly. "i've liked you the whole time."

"but do you?" he turned to face you more fully, his eyes searching yours even though he seemed to be having trouble focusing. "or do you like the idea of me? the nerdy guy you can manipulate? your little project?"

"that's not—" you stopped. "it wasn't like that. it's not like that."

"then what is it like?" he was still holding your wrist, his thumb pressing against your pulse point. "because i've been trying to figure it out for weeks and i can't. i can't understand why you'd want me. what you get out of this. and maybe i'm just stupid but i need you to tell me. plainly. what do you want from me?"

"you," you said, the word coming out more honest than you'd intended. "just. you."

jake laughed, bitter and tired. "that doesn't make sense."

"i know."

"i'm not interesting. i'm not cool or funny or—"

"you are though," you interrupted. "you are all of those things. you just don't see it."

he went quiet for a long moment. then, so quietly you almost missed it: "i've been trying so hard not to want you back. because i knew—i know it's not good for me. but i can't stop. and i'm so tired of trying."

his hand slid from your wrist to your hand, fingers threading through yours. the touch was so much gentler than you expected, almost reverent. "i deleted your texts without reading them," he admitted. "because if i read them i'd respond. and if i responded i'd end up right back where i started. wanting you. letting you in. getting hurt."

"i don't want to hurt you."

"i know. that's what makes it worse." he leaned his head back against the couch, eyes closing. "you don't mean to. you just. do."

you didn't know what to say to that. didn't know how to fix the damage you'd done or convince him that your feelings were real when your actions had been so calculated. so you just sat there, holding his hand, feeling the warmth of him next to you.

"i missed you," jake said, so quiet you barely heard it over the music. "i fucking missed you and i hated myself for it."

"i missed you too."

"yeah?" he opened his eyes, looking at you with something raw and unguarded. "you missed manipulating me?"

"that's not fair."

"isn't it though?" but there was no heat in his words. just exhaustion. "god, i'm so tired. tired of being angry. tired of trying to stay away from you. tired of pretending i don't want you so badly it hurts."

the confession hung in the air between you. jake was looking at you like he was waiting for something, permission or rejection or maybe just confirmation that you'd heard him.

you leaned in. gave him time to pull away, to remember all the reasons this was a bad idea. but he didn't. he met you halfway, his lips crashing against yours with none of the careful hesitation from before. this was messy and desperate, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. he kissed you like he'd been holding back for too long, like all that careful control had finally snapped.

you shifted closer, practically climbing into his lap, and he made a sound against your mouth that went straight through you. his hands were everywhere, spanning your waist, sliding up your back, gripping like he was afraid you'd disappear if he loosened his hold even slightly.

"been thinking about this," he mumbled against your lips, barely pulling back enough to speak. "every night. hated myself for it but couldn't stop."

"me too," you admitted, kissing along his jaw. "i couldn't sleep. kept replaying everything."

"i lied about the texts i didn't respond to," he said, tilting his head to give you better access. "i read them. all of them before deleting. at like three am. read them over and over."

"why didn't you answer?"

"because i wanted to say things i shouldn't say. like how much i missed you. how i kept going to the lab hoping you'd be there. how seeing you at the party tonight fucking destroyed me even though i pretended i was fine." his hands tightened on your waist. "how i've been so fucking miserable without you."

you kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing his words. he responded immediately, pulling you fully into his lap now, and you could feel how much he wanted this, wanted you. it was overwhelming. intoxicating. the desperation in every touch, every small sound he made.

"we should," he said between kisses, "we should probably stop."

"do you want to stop?"

"no. god no." he pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown, lips swollen. "but i'm drunk and you're drunk and tomorrow we're gonna regret—"

"i won't," you said firmly. "i won't regret this."

something shifted in his expression. softened. he touched your face with a gentleness that made your chest ache, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "you're gonna break my heart," he said, not quite a question.

"i'm not."

"you will." but he kissed you anyway, softer this time. slower. like he was memorising the feel of you. "and i'm gonna let you. because i'm weak and pathetic and i want you so much i don't even care anymore."

"you're not weak."

"i am though." he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closing. "i'm so weak for you. it's embarrassing."

you could feel his exhaustion creeping in, the way his body was getting heavier against yours, his movements slowing. "come on," you said softly, standing and pulling him up with you. "let's get you somewhere you can actually sleep."

"don't wanna sleep," he protested, but let you guide him anyway. "wanna stay with you."

"you will. i'm not going anywhere."

you found an empty bedroom on the second floor, the door unlocked and the bed mercifully unoccupied. jake collapsed onto it immediately, pulling you down with him. he was asleep within minutes, his arms wrapped around you, face buried in your neck. his breathing evened out, deep and steady.

you should probably feel guilty. taking advantage of his drunken honesty, letting him confess things he'd normally keep locked away. but you were too tired, too overwhelmed by everything he'd said. i want you so badly it hurts. i've been so fucking miserable without you. you're gonna break my heart and i'm gonna let you.

you didn't have answers. didn't have promises you could make. didn't know how to fix the fundamental imbalance between you, the manipulation and hurt that had gotten you here.

but for now, in this quiet room with jake's warmth pressed against you, you could pretend tomorrow didn't exist. could pretend this was simple. just two people who wanted each other, tangled together in the dark, nothing more complicated than that.

you fell asleep still wearing your shoes, jake's arms tight around you, his heartbeat steady against your chest.

you woke to pale morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains and the warm weight of jake still wrapped around you. for a disorienting moment you couldn't place where you were. then it came back in pieces. the party. the confrontation. jake's drunken confessions. falling asleep tangled together.

jake stirred against you, his breath catching as he woke. you felt the exact moment awareness returned, the way his body went tense. slowly, carefully, he pulled back just enough to look at you. his hair was a disaster, sticking up in every direction. his glasses sat crooked on the nightstand. his eyes were cautious but clear.

"hi," he said quietly.

"hi."

he didn't let go of you. didn't immediately scramble away or apologise or retreat into panic like last time. he just looked at you, searching your face for something.

"i said a lot of things last night," he finally said.

"yeah."

"i meant them." his voice was serious, steady despite the embarrassment colouring his cheeks. "i know i was drunk, and i probably shouldn't have said half of it, but. i meant it. all of it."

your heart kicked up. "jake—"

"i like you," he said, cutting you off gently. "i've liked you since that first night in the lab when you were stressed about your code and i got to actually help you with something. and it's been killing me trying to stay away from you because every time i see you i just. want you. so much that it scares me."

"why does it scare you?"

"because i don't know how to want someone this much and still protect myself." he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could see you better. "last time i didn't protect myself at all. i just. gave in. and then i panicked because it felt too big, too fast, and i didn't know how to handle it."

"and now?"

"now i'm still terrified," he admitted. "but i'm more scared of not trying. of walking away and spending the rest of college wondering what could have happened if i'd just. been brave enough to give you a real chance."

you felt something tight in your chest start to loosen. "i want that. a real chance. i want to do this right."

"yeah?"

"yeah." you reached up, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead. "i'm sorry. for all of it. the manipulation, the games, not being honest about what i wanted. you deserved better than that."

"i know," jake said simply. then, softer: "but i also know you were scared too. just in a different way."

he leaned down, kissing you with a gentleness that made your chest ache. different from last night's desperate intensity. this was slow, careful, almost questioning. you kissed him back, trying to pour everything you couldn't quite say into it. apology and promise and want all tangled together.

when he pulled back his eyes were dark, pupils blown. "i want to try again," he said. "properly this time. but i need you to be honest with me. about what you want. about what this is."

"i want you," you said. "not as a project or a conquest or whatever i convinced myself it was before. just you jake."

something in his expression softened. "okay," he said. "okay. we can work with that."

he kissed you again, deeper this time, and you felt his weight settle more fully over you. "i want to make it up to you," he murmured against your lips. "for running away before. for making you feel like you did something wrong when i was just scared."

"you don't have to—"

"i want to." he was already kissing down your neck, hands sliding under your shirt. "let me. please."

there was something in his voice, almost pleading, that made you nod. he smiled against your skin, helping you out of your clothes with more confidence than he'd had before. when you were bare beneath him he just. looked. taking his time, hands mapping your body like he was memorising every detail.

"you're so pretty," he said, almost reverent. "i thought about this. about you. so many times."

then he was moving lower, pressing kisses down your stomach, your hip bones, the inside of your thighs. when his breath ghosted over where you needed him most you couldn't help the small sound that escaped.

"tell me if anything's too much," he said, glancing up at you. then he lowered his mouth to you and your brain short-circuited.

he started slowly, almost tentatively, like he was learning you. his tongue moved in careful strokes, testing what made you gasp, what made your hips shift toward him. when he found the rhythm that had your fingers tightening in his hair, he made a low, satisfied sound against you that you felt everywhere.

"jake," you breathed, and he looked up at you through his lashes, pupils blown wide, lips glistening with your arousal.

"tell me," he said, voice rough. "tell me what feels good."

"that—" your words cut off as he did it again, tongue flicking over your clit with that same perfect pressure. "right there. just like that."

he was a quick learner. always had been. he catalogued every reaction, every sound you made, adjusting and refining. except this wasn't detached or analytical. this was hungry. desperate. he sucked your clit into his mouth and you moaned, loud and unrestrained, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.

"fuck, jake—"

"god, you taste so good," he mumbled against your pussy, barely pulling back enough to speak. his chin was wet, his glasses fogged slightly. "been thinking about this. wanted to do this right last time."

he was getting lost in it now, the careful control slipping into something messier, greedier. he alternated between focused attention on your clit and broad, indulgent strokes through your folds, like he couldn't decide between making you fall apart and simply savouring you. his tongue pushed inside you and you keened, your back arching off the bed.

"oh my god," you gasped. "jake, your mouth—"

he moaned against you, the vibration making your thighs clench around his head. he didn't seem to mind, just gripped your hips harder, pulled you closer, like he wanted to suffocate in your pussy. when his fingers joined his mouth, sliding through your wetness before pressing inside, you nearly sobbed.

"so wet," he murmured, almost to himself.

he crooked his fingers, finding that spot inside you that made you cry out, and worked it mercilessly while his tongue circled your clit. the dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building so fast you couldn't catch your breath. your fingers tightened in his hair, probably painful, but he just groaned and doubled his efforts.

"jake, i'm—fuck, i'm gonna—"

"i know," he said against you, his voice wrecked. "i can feel it. let go for me."

his fingers thrust deeper, faster, his mouth sucking hard on your clit, and you shattered. your orgasm hit like a shockwave, your whole body going taut as pleasure whited out your vision. you were dimly aware of the sounds you were making—high, desperate whimpers and moans—but you couldn't stop them.

jake moaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and he didn't let up. he worked you through it with devastating patience, his tongue lapping up everything you gave him like he was starving for it.

"jake," you gasped, trying to push at his head. "too much—"

but he just whined—actually whined—and gripped your thighs tighter, keeping them spread. "please," he mumbled against your pussy, his words muffled and desperate. "please, just one more. need to feel you come again. please."

"i can't—" but your protest died as he sealed his lips around your clit again, sucking gently, his fingers still working inside you. the overstimulation was almost painful but it was already shifting into something else, something that had you gasping and arching into his mouth instead of away from it.

he was making sounds now—desperate, needy whimpers and moans that vibrated against you. he was rutting against the mattress, you realised dimly, seeking friction while he lost himself in eating you out. his hair was a mess from your fingers, and he looked absolutely wrecked.

"so good," he whined between licks. "taste so good. could do this forever. please let me—need to make you come again—"

he was babbling now, drunk on you, his movements getting messier and more desperate. his tongue worked your clit in frantic circles while his fingers curled inside you, and the pleasure was building again impossibly fast. you were so sensitive that every touch felt electric, overwhelming.

"that's it," he gasped, feeling you start to tighten around his fingers. "yeah, give it to me. please, please—"

your second orgasm hit even harder than the first, ripping through you with an intensity that had you crying out his name, your thighs clamping around his head. jake moaned like he was the one coming, his hips jerking against the mattress as he worked you through it, tongue lapping up everything, fingers gentling but not stopping until you were actually sobbing from oversensitivity.

only then did he pull back, and when he finally lifted his head he looked completely gone. his face was flushed and wet, his eyes glazed and unfocused, his lips swollen and red. he looked drunk on you, his eyes unfocused and dark.

"fuck," he breathed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "you're so hot when you come. the sounds you make—"

you pulled him up into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he groaned into your mouth. his cock was rock hard against your thigh, leaking and desperate.

"your turn," you said, reaching down to wrap your hand around him.

he hissed at the contact, his hips jerking forward. "you don't have to—"

"i want to." you stroked him slowly, base to tip, feeling how hot and heavy he was in your palm. precum leaked from the slit and you used it to ease the glide. "you're so hard, jake. does eating my pussy turn you on that much?"

"fuck—" his voice broke. "yes. god, yes. you have no idea."

"tell me." you tightened your grip slightly and he whimpered. actually whimpered. "tell me what you were thinking about."

"i was thinking—" he gasped when your thumb swept over the sensitive head. "thinking about how good you taste. how you were shaking. how i could feel you clenching and i wanted—wanted to be inside you—"

"yeah?" you stroked him faster, loving the way his abs tensed, the way his thighs trembled. "you want to fuck me, jake?"

"so bad," he choked out.

you guided him between your legs, not quite inside yet, just letting the head of his cock slide through your wetness. he made a strangled sound, his whole body shuddering.

"we should—do you have—" he was trying to think through the haze of arousal, being responsible even now. "condom?"

"pill," you said. "i'm on the pill. and i'm clean. tested recently."

"me too. clean, i mean." his cock twitched against you, smearing precum through your folds. "can i—fuck, can i feel you bare?"

"yes," you breathed. "want to feel all of you."

he positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head pressing against you, and even that felt like too much. he pushed in slowly, so slowly, and the stretch was intense. you were wet enough that he slid in smoothly at first, but the sheer size of him was overwhelming.

"oh fuck," you gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders. "jake, you're so—you're so big—"

"i know, i'm sorry—" he froze, only halfway in. "am i hurting you?"

"no, don't stop," you urged, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him deeper. "just—go slow. need to adjust."

he sank in another inch and you both moaned. he was splitting you open, stretching you so full you could barely breathe. when he finally bottomed out, buried completely inside you, he dropped his forehead to yours.

"oh my god," he choked out. "you're so tight. so fucking tight and wet and—i can't—"

"don't move yet," you managed, clenching around him involuntarily. he was so deep you could feel him everywhere, pressing against spots that made your toes curl. "just let me—fuck—"

"you feel incredible," he said, his voice shaking. "i've never—nothing compares to this."

you tightened around him experimentally and he swore, his hips jerking forward. "sorry, sorry," he gasped. "i'm trying to hold still but when you do that i want to—"

"want to what?" you rolled your hips slightly and he groaned, deep and guttural.

"want to move," he admitted, his control clearly fraying. "want to fuck you."

"then do it," you said.

something in him snapped. he pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in hard, the force of it punching a cry from your lips. he did it again, and again, finding a rhythm that was deep and relentless. the bed creaked beneath you, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust.

"yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "just like that—don't stop—"

"god," he panted, his voice wrecked. "you feel so good."

you looked down between your bodies and moaned at the sight—his thick cock disappearing into you, glistening with your wetness, stretching you obscenely. "jake, oh my god—"

"feel how deep i am?" he thrust particularly hard and you keened.

"yes—fuck yes—"

he wasn't being careful anymore, wasn't being gentle. he fucked into you with abandon, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that made sparks shoot up your spine. the sounds were obscene—skin slapping against skin, the wet slide of his cock, his grunts mixing with your moans.

"wanted this," he said against your neck, his breath hot. "wanted you. for so long."

"tell me more," you demanded, loving this unfiltered version of him.

"thought about this constantly," he admitted, his thrusts getting harder. "thought about having you like this. making you feel good. hearing you say my name."

"jake—" you were getting close again, that familiar tension building low in your belly.

"touch yourself," he said. "want to feel you come on my cock. need it. please."

you slid your hand between your bodies, finding your clit, already swollen and sensitive. the added stimulation made you clench around him and he swore, his rhythm faltering.

"that's it," he encouraged, his eyes fixed on where your fingers worked. "fuck, that's so hot. you're so hot. make yourself cum. let me feel it."

you worked your clit in tight circles, the pressure building faster with each thrust of his cock. he was so deep, hitting all the right spots, the slide of him inside you absolutely perfect. you were making sounds you'd never made before—high, desperate whines and gasps.

"close," you managed. "so close—"

"come for me," he urged, his voice strained. "squeeze my cock. want to feel your pussy milk me. come on, baby, let me feel it—"

the orgasm hit you like lightning, sudden and intense. you cried out his name, your whole body convulsing, your pussy clamping down on him rhythmically. waves of pleasure crashed over you, so intense you forgot how to breathe.

"oh fuck," jake choked out, his hips stuttering. "you're—i can feel you—i'm gonna—"

he tried to last, you could see it in the tension of his jaw, the way his arms were shaking. but your pussy was still fluttering around him, still clenching in aftershocks, and it was too much. he buried himself deep with a broken moan, his cock pulsing inside you as he came. you felt the warmth of it, felt him fill you up, and the intimacy of it made something in your chest crack open.

"fuck," he gasped, collapsing on top of you. "oh my god. that was—i've never—"

you wrapped your arms around him, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing in sync. he was still inside you, softening slowly, and you could feel his release leaking out around his cock.

"that was amazing," you said when you could finally speak. "you were amazing."

he lifted his head to look at you, his expression soft and vulnerable. "i think i might be falling for you," he said quietly. "is that okay? am i allowed to say that?"

your throat felt tight with emotion. "yeah. that's okay."

"good." he kissed you gently, sweetly. "because i don't think i could stop even if you told me to."

he pulled out carefully and you both hissed at the sensitivity. immediately he was gathering you into his arms, pulling you against his chest like he couldn't stand not touching you. you fit there perfectly, your head tucked under his chin.

"we should probably talk about this," you said after a while. "about us."

"we will," jake promised, his fingers tracing patterns on your spine. "but can we just stay like this for a bit first?"

"yeah." you pressed closer, breathing in the scent of him. "we can stay like this."

and you did. stayed tangled together as the morning light grew stronger, as the sounds of people leaving the party filtered up through the floor. his cum was still leaking out of you, making a mess on your thighs, but neither of you moved to clean up. you just held each other in this new, tentative peace.

jake changed almost overnight once you started dating. it was like giving him permission to want you openly had flipped some switch in his brain. suddenly he was everywhere.

he'd show up at your door before your 9 am lecture with coffee, your exact order memorised, his hair still messy from sleep because he'd woken up early just to see you. he'd kiss you goodbye and then text you five minutes later with some random thought he forgot to mention. did you know that octopuses have three hearts? just learnt that. thought you should know.

in class he'd sit next to you instead of in his usual back corner spot, his knee always pressed against yours under the desk. sometimes his hand would find its way to your thigh, just resting there, his thumb tracing absent patterns while he tried to focus on the lecture. you'd catch him staring at you instead of his laptop, and when you'd raise an eyebrow he'd just smile, unashamed.

"you're distracting," he'd whisper.

"i'm literally just sitting here."

"i know. it's very distracting."

study sessions became impossible. you'd be explaining a concept and he'd lean over to kiss your shoulder, your neck, the corner of your mouth. "jake, i'm trying to help you."

"i know, keep going," he'd say, already doing it again.

"you're not even listening."

"i am. you were talking about. um." he'd grin sheepishly. "okay i wasn't listening. but you're just so pretty when you're focused."

your friends noticed immediately. yunjin had taken one look at jake's arm slung around your shoulders at lunch, the way he was playing with your hair while talking to beomgyu, and pulled you aside.

"okay so he's like. obsessed with you," she said. "it's actually kind of cute. in a golden retriever kind of way."

"he's not obsessed."

"babe, he just offered to carry your bag even though your apartment is literally three minutes away. and he's been smiling at you for the past ten minutes like you hung the moon. it's obsessed behaviour."

but she said it fondly, and later you caught her telling beomgyu that she'd never seen you this relaxed before. "she's not performing," yunjin had said. "she's just. being."

and she was right. with jake you didn't have to strategise or calculate or perform anything. he wanted you. obviously, openly, without games or subtext. when you showed up to his place in sweats and no makeup, he'd light up like you'd dressed up specifically for him. when you stole his hoodies, he'd just buy more so you could steal those too.

"i like seeing you in my clothes," he'd admitted once, pulling you close. "makes me feel like. i don't know. like you're mine."

"possessive," you'd teased.

"is that bad?"

"no," you'd said, kissing him. "i like it."

jake's friends had their own reactions. you'd been nervous meeting them properly, remembering that disastrous first encounter at the party. but they'd welcomed you easily, even if they did give jake endless shit.

"dude, you're so whipped," his roommate said, watching jake immediately get up to refill your drink without being asked.

"and?" jake had said, completely unbothered.

"and nothing, it's just funny. remember when you said you'd never be that guy who drops everything for someone? and now you're literally—"

"finish that sentence and i'm not helping you with discrete math anymore."

but he was smiling when he said it, and later his roommate told you that jake talked about you constantly. "it's honestly annoying how happy he is."

the thing was, you were happy too. unexpectedly, overwhelmingly happy. jake made you sharper somehow, more focused. when you studied together you actually retained information because he made learning feel collaborative instead of competitive. he celebrated your successes like they were his own, staying up with you before big presentations, bringing you stress-relief snacks, sending you encouraging texts.

and you did the same for him. learnt his patterns, his tells when he was overwhelmed. you'd show up at the lab with dinner when you knew he'd been working for hours. you'd run your fingers through his hair when he was stressed, and he'd melt into your touch, all that tension draining away.

"you make everything easier," he'd told you once, late at night when you were both too tired to filter. "like the world's less heavy when you're around."

"that's the cheesiest thing you've ever said."

"i know. i mean it though."

weeks blurred together in the best way. stolen kisses between classes. jake's hand always finding yours. the way he'd kiss you goodbye at your door and then text you goodnight five minutes later even though he lived one floor up. movie nights that turned into makeout sessions on your couch, jake's glasses getting in the way until you carefully removed them, setting them aside so you could kiss him properly.

he got clingy when he was tired, wrapping around you like a koala, mumbling into your neck. "don't leave."

"i'm just going to get water."

"too far. stay."

"jake, i'll be gone thirty seconds."

"thirty seconds too long."

you'd laugh, running your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, and feel something warm and settled in your chest. this was what it was supposed to feel like.

the beach had been jake's idea. "there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight," he'd said, eyes lighting up behind his glasses. "and i know this spot that's perfect for stargazing. barely any light pollution. we could bring blankets, make a whole thing of it?"

so here you were, sitting on a blanket in the sand while the ocean crashed softly in the background. the sky was impossibly clear, stars scattered across it like someone had spilt diamonds. jake lay with his head in your lap, one of your hands playing with his hair while he pointed up at the sky.

"okay, so see those seven stars there?" he traced a pattern with his finger. "that's the big dipper, which is part of ursa major. but if you follow those two stars at the edge, they point directly to polaris. the north star."

you hummed, only half listening to the actual words. you were too busy watching him. the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, how animated his expressions were when he talked about something he loved. the moonlight caught on his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips.

"and that one—" he was still going, completely absorbed. "that's cassiopeia. she was a queen in greek mythology who bragged about being more beautiful than the sea nymphs, so poseidon punished her by placing her in the sky upside down. you can see how the constellation kind of looks like a W? that's her throne."

"jake," you said softly.

"oh, and if you look over there, that really bright one? that's actually venus, not a star. common misconception. planets don't twinkle like stars do because—"

you leaned down and kissed him, cutting off his rambling mid-sentence. he made a surprised sound but responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. when you pulled back he followed your lips automatically, trying to chase another kiss.

"you were saying?" you teased.

"i—" he blinked up at you, slightly dazed. "what was i saying?"

"something about venus."

"right. venus. because of the. um." he lost his train of thought as you leaned down again, kissing him slower this time. "you're distracting me from the meteor shower."

"am i?"

"yeah. very effectively." but he was smiling, pulling you down for another kiss.

you shifted, moving to straddle his lap properly. jake's hands immediately found your waist, sliding under your shirt to rest against bare skin. 

the kissing turned heated quickly. jake made these small, needy sounds that drove you crazy, his hands roaming over your back, your sides, anywhere he could reach. when you rolled your hips experimentally he gasped into your mouth, his grip tightening.

"fuck," he whispered. "you're gonna kill me."

you kissed down his jaw, his neck, feeling his pulse racing under your lips. his hands had moved to your hips now, guiding your movements, and you could feel how affected he was. "still thinking about the stars?" you teased.

"what stars?" he pulled you down for another bruising kiss, one hand tangling in your hair. "can't think about anything except you."

you ground down harder and jake made a sound that was almost a whine, his head falling back against the blanket. "please," he gasped. "please, i need—"

suddenly, the loud, insistent beeping of his watch interrupted the moment.

you both froze.

jake's face went bright red as he fumbled with his wrist. "oh my god. oh my god. it's my fitness watch. it thinks i'm exercising because my heart rate—" another beep. "make it stop."

you couldn't help it. you burst out laughing, burying your face in his shoulder while his watch continued its concerned beeping about his elevated heart rate. "it's not funny," jake groaned, still trying to silence the watch. "this is so embarrassing."

"it's a little funny."

"my watch just cockblocked me. there's nothing funny about that."

you kissed his jaw, still giggling. "i think it's cute. your heart rate got that high just from kissing me?"

"you were not just kissing me, you were—" he made a frustrated noise. "yes. okay. yes. you have that effect on me. are you happy?"

"very." you settled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat still racing under your ear. the watch had finally stopped beeping. "for what it's worth, my heart's doing the same thing."

"yeah?" he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

"yeah."

you lay there together, the ocean providing a steady soundtrack, the stars scattered above you. jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "i love you," he said softly. "in case that wasn't obvious from the way my watch literally staged an intervention."

you lifted your head to look at him. his eyes were soft, open, vulnerable in the moonlight. "i love you too," you said, meaning it completely.

he smiled, that full, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. then he kissed you again, sweet and unhurried, his hands gentle on your face.

"we should probably head back soon," you murmured eventually. "it's getting late."

"five more minutes," jake said, pulling you closer. "just. let me hold you for five more minutes."

you settled back against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, both of you looking up at the vast sky. you'd come here to watch a meteor shower but you'd been too distracted by each other to notice if any had passed.

somehow, you didn't mind at all.

"hey," jake said softly. "thank you."

"for what?"

"for giving me another chance. for being patient with me while i figured my shit out. for. this. all of it." his arms tightened around you. "i know i was difficult at first."

"you weren't difficult. you were protecting yourself. i get it now."

"still. you could have given up on me. but you didn't."

"of course i didn't," you said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "you're worth it. you've always been worth it."

jake made a soft, overwhelmed sound, burying his face in your hair. "i'm gonna marry you someday," he mumbled. "just so you know."

"jake—"

"not now. obviously not now. but someday. when we've graduated and figured our lives out and i can actually afford a ring. i'm gonna marry you."

you felt your chest go tight with emotion. "okay," you whispered. "someday."

"yeah. someday."

you stayed like that until the cold started seeping in, until you were both shivering despite being pressed together. finally, reluctantly, you packed up the blanket and headed back to campus. jake held your hand the entire walk, occasionally pulling you close to kiss you at random intervals.

"what was that for?" you asked after the third surprise kiss.

"just because," he said, smiling. "because i can. because i love you. do i need more reasons?"

"no," you said, kissing him back. "no more reasons needed."

if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr ˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[arelyvn]

A REAL MAN - SJY ༄.°

Jake Sim, son of one of the most wealthiest CEOs in Australia. Who also happens to be the man your parents set you to marry at 20 years old, and now—five years later, the father of your child. You and Jake have a..rocky relationship to say the least. The real question is, who’s going to be the first to break?

sim jaeyun x fem! reader

content warnings: smut, fluff, slight angst if you squint, arranged marriage, reader and jake have a kid, forced proximity, unprotected sex, pussy eating, breeding, fingering, masturbation (m & f), nipple stimulation, tit obsessed jake (he’s also pussy drunk asf), wet dreams, squirting, teasing, stubborn/avoidant reader, suggestive jokes, jake calls reader “mama”, mentions of alcohol and controlling parents, featuring Sunghoon and Jay. Just know Jake wants it real bad and he’s kind of pathetic.

word count: 21k (I got carried away)

this builds off of my jay fic here: Sweet Desire, but it can be read alone

The day you were informed of the arrangement, your whole world crashed on you. To be fair, you knew it was coming, your parents made sure of it. The constant reminders to not waste time on the boys around you because you were bound to marry one of their choice.

Jake Sim, Son of one of the most wealthiest CEO’s in Australia. Before you married him, you met him briefly when your parents dragged you to Australia to confirm everything. You had no choice of course.

One thing you didn’t miss was how handsome he was. Not to mention that ridiculous accent, if it hadn't been an arrangement you would have definitely gone after him.

He didn’t love you though. Not in the way husbands love their wives. Because this was all for one thing, to join your families. And that's all he saw it as, just another task his parents assigned for him.

After you got married, he didn’t touch you for almost eight months. The only reason he did was because both of your parents, demanding, constantly asking why you haven’t announced your pregnancy to them. 

The night he did touch you that way, he could barely even look at you. If he was being honest, he enjoyed it but he wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.

It felt good. You remember the feeling of him, the sounds, the words he let slip out in the moment, but after that it was meaningless. 

You lived together during the pregnancy, he helped you, he was caring. Caring in a way he hadn’t been before you had his child in you. Over the course of those nine months you grew a special connection together.

Becoming a mother was something you expected, but you had always thought of it to be different, not something arranged, a duty needing to be fulfilled.

Like the movies you would watch, the books you secretly read, maybe even the dreams you had, but then again—do they really always come true?

Then the arguments started, the fighting. He never laid a hand on you, never hurt you, but most of all he never touched you sexually again. Was it because he thought it wouldn't be good? Because you were no longer ‘fit’?

Which was many people's explanation why their husbands wouldn't touch them. But you constantly reminded yourself, he’s hardly your husband, this is simply an arrangement.

Which is exactly why you’re in your car now, with your four year old daughter, driving to Jake Sim’s house to drop her off for the week. 

On paper you two are married, but in reality you moved out when your daughter turned one. You couldn’t handle it anymore, and you figured it would be best if she didn’t grow up in a house full of arguments from the people who were supposed to be her role models.

Jake didn’t seem to mind, his time mostly consisted of working, trying to expand his knowledge on his father’s company which he was going to inherit. 

One thing you did agree on, was that you were able to see other people, date whoever, fuck whoever. Obviously you both had needs, needs that you weren’t willing to fulfill with each other. The only thing was you couldn’t introduce said person to Layla.

“Daddy said he’d buy me the whole barbie section from the store!” Your daughter says, playing with the dolls he apparently just bought her a few weeks ago.

“You already have all of them right sweetheart?” You ask, turning into the gated neighborhood, the houses are pretty spaced apart since they're huge. You don’t understand why he didn’t just move to a smaller place afterwards,  6 bedrooms is extremely unnecessary for one man.

“Not the camping ones” she looks out the window as you pull into his driveway with a smile on her face. You glance down at your outfit, So what if you are wearing something nice, and a little more makeup then normal..nothing wrong with dressing up a little. 

You move to the trunk to get the backpack with everything she needs from your place before getting her from the backseat “You ready Lay?” You ask helping her out, and holding her hand as you walk to his front door, before you're even on the front porch the door opens, you pause, she lets go of your hand to run to him, jumping in his arms. 

He’s wearing some jeans with a casual sweater, his hair styled, but messy at the same time. “Aw, sweet girl, you missed me?” He says hugging her back, holding her in his arms.

He offers a tight lipped smile to you before inviting you in, “I wanna play with the barbie house!” She says, squirming to get out of his arms, he puts her down, watching as she runs off to the living room to play.

You set the backpack down on the kitchen island before looking around, nothing seems different from the last time you were here.

“The drive was okay?” He asks, walking past you into the kitchen, hips brushing yours. You don’t know if it was intentionally, but you do know every nerve in your body felt it. “Yeah, traffic wasn't terrible.” You nod, slightly cringing at the attempt in small talk. 

“Im going to use the bathroom” You say abruptly, “Second door on the right.” He offers, “I know.” He lets his eyes drop to your outfit for a split second before you disappear down the hall.

You walk to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you before bracing your hands on the counter, looking up at your reflection. 

God, you're actually pathetic.

You wait a few minutes before you flush the toilet, you didn't even have to use the bathroom.

Jake moved to the living room, sitting on the couch watching Layla play with her toys with a smile on his face. You don't look at him before crouching down beside her 

“Mommy’s going to leave now okay?” You smile softly, “But I want you and Daddy to both play!” she frowns, looking at Jake than at you, you can't help but share the same frown before leaning in to give her a hug, she wraps her arms around your neck.

Jake watches the interaction, he cant help the slight ting of guilt that hits his chest, he watches you pull back to kiss her forehead before standing up. 

“I'll walk you out” he stands with you, following you to the door, you step out before turning to face him “I won't be able to call her goodnight tomorrow.” You say, watching him lean against the door frame, eye brow raised.

“Why?” he asks the question like it’s his business to know. “I'm just- I’ll be busy.”

“Ah, a date?”

“What- Thats none of your business” You say defensively 

“So a date then.” He sighs, watching the way your face morphs to irritation.

You dodge his question “No ice cream for dinner.” You mutter before turning to walk to your car, he closes the door once you drive off, before putting his attention back on his adorable daughter.

-

“She’s dating now? Damn, about time.” Sunghoon mutters, putting down the weights he was just lifting.

“About time? No, fuck no.” Jake replies back, grabbing heavier weights just to feel something. “Why’re you pressed about it? You’ve fucked plenty of girls since.” Sunghoon says casually.

“Well it’s–different..” 

“Nope, not that different.” 

“You’re not helping.”

“Did you guys not agree to do just that? It’s not like she’s getting married to another guy. She probably just needs to get laid.” Sunghoon offers bluntly, earning a glare from Jake.

Yeah, that was the agreement, but it doesn't help the thoughts going through his mind. Sure he’s had plenty of useless fucks, using his hand gets boring. But he hasn't dated officially, so you going on a date, just makes shit worse.

“When was the last time you actually got pussy then?” Sunghoon asks, finishing his set of bicep curls.

“Shit, like a few weeks back–”

“That’s why you’re so fucking frustrated.” He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

“How’s things going with that Sara girl?” He questions, downing his water

“Who?” Jake asks, genuinely confused

“Sara, the girl you met at the bar?” 

“Oh–I don't know, She’s just kind of..boring.” 

“Wish she was y/n huh?” Sunghoon smirks 

“Bro fuck you, when was the last time you–”

“Last night.” Sunghoon replies immediately, Jake opens his mouth to speak, closes it.

“Okay, what were you saying about the weights?” Jake asks, changing the topic, earning a laugh from Sunghoon.

As soon as Jake gets home, he wakes up Layla, who attempts to sprint down the stairs just to see the guest he brought back.

“Hoon!” Layla practically screams, running up to his best friend to give him a hug, “Hey Lay, Just had to stop by to pick up something” Sunghoon smiles down at her, the cocky bastard exterior gone, making Jake roll his eyes. “The papers are in my study. I'll be right back.” Jake says, walking upstairs.

Sunghoon is his best friend, someone who he can really trust. He’s one of the few people in his life who know about the arrangement between you and him.

He also happens to work at his fathers company, one that Jake will soon inherit. The only steady thing in his life consists of work at this point. 

He can't help the laugh that slips past his lips when he sees Sunghoon sitting on the ground, holding a fairy barbie and talking in a pitch way too high for a 25 year old man.

“No! You were supposed to give up your wings so mermaid Barbie can swim!” Layla says in a sharp tone talking to Sunghoon “Sorry, sorry, take the wings please–” He apologises as if he’s scared of upsetting her-

“Having fun?” Jake smirks walking over to him “So much fun” Sunghoon replies standing up and taking the papers from him.

“Bye Layla, ill see you soon” Sunghoon says, rubbing Layla's head before turning to the door “Gym same time tomorrow?” He adds

Jake nods, walking to the kitchen as the front door shuts.

“Hm I guess ill just eat all this ice cream by myself” Jake says loud enough, less then 10 seconds pass until Layla's running over to the kitchen with a smile on her face.

-

The date was genuinely horrible. Some guy your friend tried setting you up with, all he did was talk about himself the whole time. You slip off your heels before stepping inside your house, who knew listenting to someone brag about themselve could be so fucking exhausting. 

You’re so sexually frustrated it's insane. Since when did finding a quick hookup become so hard? You crawl into your bed not bothering to change out of your dress. 

You lay there for a moment, contemplating, before deciding to reach into your side drawer, pulling out one of the things that has kept you sane this entire time.

You hike up your dress to your hips before brushing your fingers in between your legs, feeling the dampness coat your fingers through the thin fabric of your panties. You push them to the side before clicking the button on your vibrator.

The low buzz filling the silence of the room before you bring it down to your core, your hips instantly jolt at the feeling, you rub small circles on your clit with it, pinching your nipples through your dress before closing your eyes, trying to imagine someone else pleasuring you, bringing you closer instead of yourself..someone like–Jake..

Oh hell no.

You open your eyes, turning off the vibrator before sitting up. “No, no, absolutely not.” Anything but him, anyone but him. It’s like the universe wants you to think about him as his name flashes across your screen.

“Fuck.” You whisper, grabbing the phone, you fix your hair in the reflection looking back at you before clicking accept.

“Hey y/n, Layla wanted me to call you, she said she wouldn't sleep unless you said goodnight–are you good?” He pauses, looking at your flushed face on his phone

“What? Good, yes I'm good- why are you asking that. Just show me Lay.” You feel your heart racing in your chest, why does it feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't.

“Okay.” He simply says before giving Layla the phone

“Daddy said you wouldn't be able to call tonight but I still wanted to see you” Layla pouts, you can't help the warm feeling in your chest at how cute she is “I'm here now sweetheart, I hope you sleep well and have good dreams okay?” You say sweetly, blowing her a small kiss before Jake takes the phone back.

“Goodnight Layla” He says, you don't see his face but you watch the lights turn off and listen to the sound of the door shutting. “Alright bye-”

“How was the date?” He asks, walking to what seems to be his room and sitting on his bed, the camera is now on him, you watch him push his black framed glasses up his nose with his finger, fuck, why are his hands so damn hot.

“What–” 

“That bad huh?” He chuckles, the sound low, in amusement. “It's none of your business.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I think it is my business what my wife does.” That has you fucking shook. “Your wife? Are you serious right now?”

“Very. If the date went well, you wouldn't have answered the phone. Yet here you are.” He can't hide the smirk that coats his face. “You have no room to talk–” You snap back, “You just answered my question for me anyway” He dodges your statement, with a proud look on his face, God–he’s such an ass.

“I’m not talking to you unless it's about Layla. Goodnight.” You say, tone stern before hanging up.

What the hell is wrong with him? You knew he was a cocky asshole the second you met him all those years ago.

But you can't deny, he’s a damn good father.

-

You got the call in the middle of the day while making yourself coffee in your offices lounge.

“Is she hurt?” You ask frantically, packing your bag and letting your boss know you have an emergency.

You don't have to work honestly, you're wealthy enough to spend your days slouching around the house, but you like being on your feet, because sitting down for too long is when the overthinking happens.

“No Mrs. Sim, She’s not hurt, but she did lay hands on another student. Which is completely unacceptable here.” The Director of Layla's pre-school says.

“Did you call her father as well?”, “Yes ma’am, Mr. Sim is on his way right now.” She says cliply. You let out a sigh “I’ll be there right away.” You say before hanging up and getting in your car immediately.

Once you get to the school, you see Jake pacing outside of the Director's office, he’s in a suit, he must have just come from work too. You smooth down your blouse and business pants before walking over to him, the sound of your heels being the only thing in the empty hallway, he stops to look at you, not having time to fully take you in

“Where is she?” You ask, hand gripping your phone hard. “They took her to a different classroom, some bullshit about needing to calm herself down.” He says, pushing his hair back.

“Layla would never do something like this, not just because anyway. There has to be a reason.” You bite your lip in frustration before knocking on the door of the office. “Come in.” you hear the stern voice of the Director say, before looking at Jake who nods. 

You both walk in, taking the seats in front of her desk, “Good evening Mr, and Mrs. Sim, I'm sure you know why I've called you here.” She says, eyes darting between the two of you.

You can't help the way your hand grips your phone tighter at the use of the last name, the one that feels like it doesn't even belong to you. “We also do not tolerate any form of violence here. Since this is the first and hopefully only time, we've given her a warning, due to the..circumstances of the action.” You raise a brow at that 

“What ‘circumstances’?” Jake asks, tone serious. “Well, another student had actually taken her..barbie doll, and–” She clears her throat “Ripped the head off..” She finishes, looking at the both of you and the confused looks on your faces

“So she kicked him.” You see Jake slightly relax in his chair, “So she was just defending herself then.” He offers, “Well, in a sense, but it's still not acceptable, like I said we forbid any violence. So there is another reason I called you both here today.” You raise your brow as she continues talking

“Is there something going on at home?” She asks, looking at you then at him. You scoff at that “No, everything's perfectly fine.” You simply say, you watch the way Jake shifts in his chair, earning a glare from you and a curious look from the director

“And you Mr. Sim?” She says, “Right, Yes everything's fine, nothing more than the perfect family.” He smiles, that performative one you always see in the business photos. “Good to hear. Layla should be waiting outside, Thank you for coming all this way.” You nod, before standing up, Jake follows after you. 

As soon as you see her, you crouch down to her level in the chair “Lay, baby–” You look down at the doll in her hand, ruined.

“Layla-” Jake whispers, sitting down next to her, she looks up at you, tears in her eyes, her face slightly red from crying earlier. You swipe them away with your thumb gently “H-he took it from me..a-and he broke it mommy” She says, voice trembling, you look up at Jake, you see that familiar look of anger flash on his features.

“I k-kicked him..I know I shouldn't have Im s-sorry” She says before breaking into a sob, and hugging you.

You hug her back immediately, hand smoothing down the back of her head before looking at Jake, He doesn't say anything before standing up and storming back into the directors office, shutting the door behind him. You don't stop him either, because you know exactly what he’s going to do.

You pull back to look at her, your heart hurts to see her like this. “Listen, I'm not saying violence is okay, but I'm glad you defended yourself okay?”

You tuck her hair behind her ear “I don’t want you to solve problems with violence, do you understand?” you ask gently, she nods looking down at her barbie ashamed, you press a kiss to her forehead before standing up. 

Jake walks out of the office not even 5 minutes later, "I've got the kids parents contact, he wont mess with her again.” Is all he says before picking up Layla in his arms and walking outside to his car, you follow after him, watching as he buckles her up in the car. He swipes a thumb over her cheek gently before shutting the door and turning to face you. 

“Perfect family huh?” You cross your arms over your chest, watching his face “She bought it.” He simply says. “Yeah, you’re pretty good at lying.”

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means what I said.” You reply back snappy 

“Yeah okay y/n, im not doing this shit” He rubs his nose bridge before looking at you again “Typical of you, being an avoidant asshole.” You don't know where this is coming from, but you can't stop the words from coming out, the pent of frustration boiling in you.

He sighs, looking down at his shoes before back at you, something you can't quite pin flashing in his eyes. “I’ll see you on Friday.” His tone is sharp before turning around and getting in his car.

You don't say anything before walking to yours, the sole of your heels digging into your feet irritating you, but nothing can possibly be more irritating than Jake Sim.

-

Friday comes sooner than expected, Jake messaged you a brief “On the way.” 20 minutes ago.

You opted for some lounge pants and a sweater today. “Mommy!” Layla's bright voice says the second you open the door “Hi angel” You smile when she hugs your leg, before looking at Jake.

He’s wearing a navy suit today, glasses. You try not to think about how good he looks in those glasses.

You look down at the pink backpack on his shoulder “Oh- um, you can come in–” You say, walking back.

The place is perfectly curated to how you want. So much more different than his house, You don't see the deep inhale he takes.

It smells so much like you. “You can just put the bag wherever” You say briefly. “Y/n-”

“Mommy guess what!” Layla drags your attention to her, you tilt your head “Daddy said we're going to Italy with grandma and grandpa!” she says, tugging your pant leg, you don't smile. You look up at a very nervous looking Jake,

“Oh really sweetheart?” You ask, still looking at him. “Yup! Grandma called” She giggles, you lower yourself to the ground to talk to her face to face “Can you go to your room angel? Me and daddy need to have an adult conversation okay?” She nods, completely clueless that she just practically dropped a bomb on you.

When you see she’s down the hall you whip your head to Jake “What the fuck?” You look at him eyes wide

“I know, okay I know.” He buries his face in his hands, “When is this happening.”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks Jake, are you serious? When the hell were you planning on telling me?”

“Come on y/n. You know how they get. They want us all to be one big happy family or something–” He sighs “Who else is going "

"I don't know, it was brief.” You look at him like he has two heads “No. No I cannot do this, I absolutely cannot fucking do this.” You walk to the kitchen, pacing around, he follows

“Like what the fuck was going through your head when you said I would go?” You try not to raise your voice so Layla doesn't hear.

“If I had a choice I would have said no. You know how they are, they expect you to be there.” He says, watching you.

“How long is it?” You ask, trying to remain sane.

“A week.”

“No fucking way, no actual fucking way.” You don't even know what to say. “I cannot be stuck in Italy with you for a week, no way in hell.”

“Geez, didn't know I was that bad.” He says, leaning against the counter, like he belongs in your house. 

It’s true, Jake isn't horrible, he picks up, he doesn't snore, too loud anyway. But that's not why you're stressed about this. It’s because you don't know what could happen.

“There's more..” He says, watching your reactions

“No.” because you know exactly what he’s going to say, you can feel it.

“They dont want us to stay at the estate with them in Milan. Something about us needing ‘couple time’.” You're going to throw up. You're actually going to throw up in front of him.

“I don't need them to butt into our–relationship, it's perfectly fine how it is right now.” He doesn't say anything to that.

“I know y/n. I tried to talk them out of it, but they are dead set on it.” You sit down, you can't be on your feet right now, you inhale and exhale, trying to calm the rapid pace of your heartbeat.

“I’ll probably be taking care of shit for the company anyways, it’s this whole thing with our partners from America–” He sighs, hand running through his hair in irritation.

“Okay. One week, seven days. Not bad, I can do that.” You voice your thoughts out loud unknowingly. You see him check his phone, “I have to go. We can talk about this later.” 

“Thats it? You're just leaving again? Dropping this on me?” You stand up, following him to the front door

“In case you weren't aware, I still have a company to run. Trust me I'm not thrilled about this at all, so don't get it twisted.” He says, looking down at you. 

“Fuck you.” 

He scoffs at you, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” he mutters before walking down to his car. You watch him for a moment before slamming the front door behind you. The pain in your chest doesn't go away, even when you tuck Layla in for bed that night. 

-

“Holy shit–Yeah, you might actually be fried,” Sunghoon says, not bothering to ask before sitting down at his desk across from him. “What does that even–” Jake mutters, running his hand through his hair. Attention that was once on the laptop before him gone. 

“All I'm saying is that this is not good, I mean when was the last time you two were actually together for more than one hour?” He doesn't respond

“Exactly.”

“I still haven't told her about the room situation.” Sunghoon laughs at that.

“So what? You’re just going to sleep in the same bed together” Jake nods, rubbing his eyebrows in thought “You gonna be able to resist then?” 

“What do you mean–”

“You know exactly what I mean. Let's not forget the fact that every woman you’ve been mildly interested in represents her in at least one way.” Sunghoon says, bluntly.

Jake looks down at his computer, not even bothering to argue because it's true. He made sure of it.

“I don't know, okay?” he finally says, that makes Sunghoon do a double take

“Shit. I wasn’t expecting you to admit it.” 

“Its not fair. Nothing about this is fair to her, to me. I just wish they would fucking stay out of it.” He mutters, almost to himself. Thinking back to when he first met you, he couldn't deny the immediate attraction he felt, but it all felt like this was just another thing given by his parents, you were just a task, a duty he had to fulfill. 

“It’s going to be torture. Having to put up that front, that everything is okay. Making it believable to all of them. When this whole situations fucked up.” Jake says, standing up, looking down at the city from his office window.

“I can’t say I understand it man, but if I was you, I'd meet up with her. Tell her how it’s going to go, I mean.. maybe she won't make it a big deal, right?” Sunghoon suggests, shrugging.

Sunghoon also doesn't know you as well as he does.

—“No, I dropped her off an hour ago.” You put your phone on speaker before setting it down on the bathroom counter.

“So you’re home right now?” Jake asks, you roll your eyes.

“Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Mhm, I'm working from home.” you say, trying on some designer dress you bought specifically for Italy.

And yes, obviously you would be excited to go, It’s not like you actually have to be with Jake the whole time anyway. You can spend some time by yourself, or with Layla.

You slip off your bra, the braless look is better for this type of dress anyway. “-outside”

“huh?” you ask, completely forgetting you were on the phone. “Im outside” He says like its the most normal thing

“Wait what-” You look at yourself in the mirror and then back at your phone “Im at the door y/n, let me in.”

“Fuck, fuck–shit” you hiss

“What, do you have someone you don't want me seeing?” That pisses you off even more. You storm downstairs, swinging the front door open with an irritated look on your face.

His gaze drops to your feet, the miss matched socks, to the extremely short, almost see through dress, to your face, and then the messy pony tail on your head.

“Playing dress up huh?” He says, walking in. You scoff before shutting the door, watching as he walks into your living room and sits on your couch.

“What are you doing here? I already said Layla was at pre school.” You walk to the living room, standing in front of him “I need to talk to you about Italy.”

“Okay what about it?” you ask, attitude leaking from your tone. “And aren't you supposed to be at work?” You look down at him, his outfit, black dress pants, to the white button up.

“No, meeting got cancelled.” Even if he was the one to cancel it himself. He decided to come straight here after talking to Sunghoon.

“Okay, spit it out then.” You cross your arms over your chest, he lets out a quiet chuckle. God, you need to be put in your place so bad sometimes.

“I tried requesting a separate room, but my parents found out about it.” He says, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar “So what the hell are you trying to say?” 

“You know exactly what I'm saying y/n.” He runs his hand down his face “Look– its one fucking week okay? Just play the part–”

“Of the perfect wife. Right.” You don't even bother sitting next to him. “We don't even have to talk to each other, I mean– when we get there we obviously have to see my mother and father, maybe the partners from America.”

He pulls out his phone “Great.” You watch him scroll through it. “This is a pretty big fucking deal for us y/n. Not everything is about you okay? You knew what you were doing the second you signed that contract five years ago.”

He stands up, gripping his phone tighter than normal in his hand. You open your mouth to speak–close it.

Jake immediately regrets his choice of words, of course you didn't know it would end up like this– separated family, separate houses–

“Y/n–” He drops his head, biting his lip in concentration “Get out Jake.” You watch the way his eyebrows furrow. You two stay there like that for a moment, in a silence, before he turns away from you. You only look at him when he speaks, his voice rough.

“I’ll message you more details later.” He says, shutting the front door behind him. You scoff, sitting down where he just was, trying to keep your cool, even if the very thing you want to do right now is slap his stupidly perfect face. 

-

You refused to take his offer of being driven to the airport, which was probably really stupid considering you were literally going to ride in his private plane, While also staying with him in Italy, while playing the part of his wife.

So obviously you wanted to hang on to your last ounce of dignity, even if paying for parking at the airport was definitely avoidable.

You look for the woman that Jake said to follow once you got to the airport. Spotting her immediately since she stood out, young, pretty.

You recognized her from when you were dragged to past work events, ones that you left 30 minutes into after making your appearance as Jake's “wife”. 

“Mrs. Sim,” She nods at you, offering to take your bags. “Thank you.” You reply shortly, falling into step beside her as she leads you to the plane, the very spacious one to be exact, from the brown leather reclining seats, to the marble accented ceilings.

You spot Layla immediately, she's sitting next to a man you recognize, Park Sunghoon. He's smiling down at something she said, holding one of her barbies in his hand. The woman next to you stares at him for a moment before facing you.

“Mr. Sim is talking to the Pilot, he wanted me to let you know this is your seat as well” She points to the window seat, among the many other ones, ah–so he's assigning shit to you now.

You set your bag down on it before walking over to Layla, “Hi angel” You smile down at her, her eyes lighting up the second she sees you “Mommy!” She yells in a high pitched tone, standing up in the seat and holding her arms out, you take her in your arms, hugging her back. 

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Sim” Sunghoon says with a smirk, the tone he uses for your name hitting a nerve only someone as cocky as him could.

“You as well, Park.” Layla twirls a strand of your hair, before wiggling out of your arms, a sign she wants to be put down.

“Here you go Miss. Layla” Sunghoon hands her the fairy barbie in his hand, eyes looking past you to the woman you were talking to earlier..

You turn around, taking Layla to your seat.

Jake comes through the Pilots cabin shortly after, glancing down at you, his eyes softening when he looks at Layla beside you.

He stops at where Sunghoon and the other woman are sitting across from each other, both with their laptops out.

“You two do realise you don't have to work while we're on the plane. Save it for when we actually get to Milan.” He sighs,

“I just like to stay ahead.” The woman says, “Let's just say I'm feeling motivated.” Sunghoon adds, eyes not living Jake's other employee. “Yeah– okay, just don’t kill eachother.”

He rolls his eyes, walking back over to where you and Layla sit, you give her the tablet you occasionally let her use, along with her pink unicorn headphones, she happily takes it, leaning against your arm.

Your hand mindlessly brushes through her hair as Jake loosens his tie, his blazer discarded already. You look down at your outfit, a pair of nice fitted jeans, silk blouse, before looking back at him.

“Whats up with those two?” You ask, nodding behind you to where Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker sit. “Ever since I hired her, Sunghoon has had this– inferior complex thing going on.” He sighs, leaning against the cushioned plane seat.

“When they work together, they definitely get shit done, but when they argue it's annoying as hell.” Jake says bluntly, glancing down at Layla, whose focus is on her tablet.

“Oh, I see.” You reply quietly, looking out the window as the plane begins rolling for take off. 

-

After an extremely long flight, and parting ways with Jake's coworkers, you finally arrive at his parents' estate in Milan.

“Just play the part” He nods at you, moving to open the car door and get Layla from the backseat. You two don't even have a chance to mentally prepare yourself when you walk in, to see Jake's mother and father both at the door.

Ignoring you and Jake, their focus immediately goes to your daughter “Princess!” His mother says, Layla skips over to her, giving her a hug, “Grandma! Grandpa! I missed you” She says, voice filled with joy, something that both you and Jake can't mirror no matter how hard you try.

His parents finally look at the two of you, “Nice to see you y/n.” His mother says, you smile tightly. “I need to talk to you son, it's about the partners from America.” His father says, giving Jake a pointed look, he fixes his posture, looking at you for a split second before following his father to his study. 

“Mommy, you and Daddy will still come and see me right?” Layla looks up at you, eyes wide and childlike.

“Of course sweetheart, we just have important stuff to take care of” You smile down at her, before looking at Jake's mother for a split second, if you looked a little longer you would see the brief concern across her face.

She has no right to feel concerned for you though, considering she's one of the reasons you're here in the first place. 

Jake shuts the door behind him, following his father to his desk in the center of the room. “My assistant got the dates wrong for when you were supposed to come.” His father says, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“What do you mean she ‘got it wrong’? You couldnt have let me know that before I flew my fucking family out?” Jake says, irritation written all over his face.

“I would have, if I knew. Park Jongseong landed a few hours after you, trust me this isn't ideal for either of us.”

“I need you to go to the Park international office headquarters before you and y/n head where you are staying. He expects you to be there, not for long, just to confirm meetings and etcetera.” His father says, leaning against the desk.

“This is a fucking mess.” Jake groans, running his hand through his hair. “Just get this done, there's going to be issues bigger than this when you actually fully take over the company son, take care of it.”

For some reason, that makes Jake even more upset. Hes fully aware of how this all ends up becoming his responsibility, hell, his whole fucking life has revoled around it, just a bunch of deals, negotiations, arrangements.

“I’ll handle it.” Jake straightens moving to the door, not looking back at his father as he approaches you.

“We need to go.” he looks at you for a brief second before he faces his mother and Layla in her arms. “Bye angel, mommy and daddy will come see you later this week okay?” His voice is gentle when talking to her

“Okay!” She says cheerfully, playing with Jake's mother's expensive diamond necklace, His mother leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Drive safe okay?” His mother says, giving him a look of warning.

“I know.” He sighs, walking towards the door, you give Layla one more kiss on her head before following him. Somehow it feels like all of this is a bad decision. 

“Where are we going.” It's not a question, it's something you're demanding to know as he pulls out of the stone driveway of his parents estate.

You look at him, his tense jaw, to his hands that are gripped on the steering wheel dangerously tight. “The Park International Office.” He replies back, eyes not leaving the road. “Okay, drop me off before then.”

“No.” 

You scoff, looking at him in disbelief “Why the hell not?” you ask, irritation leaking in your tone. The same tone he recognizes so well from when you two actually used to live together, even before you were pregnant with Layla.

“The faster we get this over with, the better.” His voice is stern, unmoving. “Fine. Don't expect me to be all enthusiastic and shit to meet your fancy clients.” You add a mocking flare to the last words, this time he actually looks at you, disbelieving.

“Gosh– I forget how fucking bratty you get.” He says, slight amusement leaking from his voice.

“Can’t forget how much of an asshole you are.” you reply back, rolling your eyes. He pushes his tongue against his cheek, gripping the steering wheel harder. 

As he puts the car into park, taking off his seatbelt, he pulls his black framed glasses from the center console, putting them on. You try not to notice the way they sit perfectly on his nose bridge.

“Just play the part.” He says low, opening the door, walking over to open yours but you already got out the second he did. You smooth down your silk blouse, he reaches to hook his arm around yours but you pull back.

“Y/n.” you let out an annoyed sound before taking his arm, the touch foreign, yet almost comforting in a way you don't want to admit. 

You see Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker once you enter the building, both with irritated looks on their faces as if they were arguing before falling into step beside Jake.

Sunghoon smirks down at you, before looking at Jake with his brow raised in a knowing look. You watch everyone's eyes follow a man, black hair, sharp features, even sharper jawline as he approaches you.

Jakes hand rests low on your waist, you feel the heat radiation off his palm through your shirt.

“Mr, and Mrs. Sim” He nods politely at you, before doing the same to Jake's coworkers out of respect. 

Jake nods back “Mr. Park.” He nods back, you cant help but notice how the man in front of you also looks like he doesn't want to be here.

You stay by Jake's side, even as the man you now recognize as Park Jongseong speaks business, the woman from the plane writing down things on a glass clipboard, while Sunghoon joins the conversation with them.

You sigh, slightly annoyed, your performative exterior crumbling the longer you have to stand by his side. 

What felt like hours, but was most likely only 30 minutes of having to perform as his ‘perfect little wife’ you two finally got to the place you were staying, an extremely nice estate, it was almost like a penthouse, overlooking the water.

You still don't understand why you and Jake couldn't have stayed at his parents estate, but you guess this is what everyone insisted on.

You shove past him to get in the room, ignoring the way he glares daggers at the back of your head, only to pause when you reach the bedroom.

He follows after you, letting one of the room service workers bring in your stuff. You both freeze, staring at the bed.

The rose petals covering the white comforter, you feel your cheeks flush when they land on the condoms, assorted to make some sort of heart on the nightstand, you quickly move, opening the drawer to shove them inside of it only for your whole body to still.

“What the fuck–” Your eyes meet a pair of handcuffs, next to them, a bottle of unopened lube.

You swear your whole body is on fire, “I-Is this some kind of like– sex resort?” You turn to Jake, gaping at him. 

He looks like he's at a loss for words, hand clutched tight around the suitcase handle. You move past him to the room service workers who are bringing in your stuff.

“Hi, sorry, I think we have the wrong room, I'm confused with all the–stuff laying around.” You can't help the slight tremble in your voice, the woman unloads your suitcase off the carrier, before standing straight.

“Ma’am, this was booked specifically with the additions to it.” She says warily.

Jake follows out the bedroom, realisation dawning. Sunghoon.

He should have known better than to have the idiot be the one to book where to stay.

“Shit.” He mutters, before looking at the woman, and the other two who helped bring your stuff up here

“You may leave, Thank you.” He hands her handfull of money, you couldn't see how much, but from the slightly shocked look on her face, you knew it was more than needed. 

The door shutting behind them, leaving you and Jake in a penthouse in Italy, alone.

One that practically screamed sex, you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him that look.

“Sunghoon booked it. I was busy with meetings– Fuck, I knew I shouldnt have let him.” He takes off his glasses rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“God, of course he would do something like this.” You look around, besides the..stuff, it was a really nice place, probably the nicest you could have gotten, but that was expected with how wealthy he was.

You sigh, not looking back before walking towards the bedroom to unpack your things.

His eyes follow you, trailing a path down your body, the way your jeans cling to your hips, swaying in a way that could make any man weak.

Example being the way some of the men in Park Jongseongs office eyed you down. 

You looked around the room- hell, Even the bathroom held the same aura as the bedroom, built for something intimate.

The shower lining the back, completely open, besides the glass in the middle, one shower head on the left, and one on the right, a fair distance away from each other, the dark tile made it feel even more dangerous.

This whole place was just one big temptation, with Jake being the center of it all. 

-

For being in the same penthouse as him, it was surprisingly easy to avoid each other. He mentioned something about Sunghoon, and this and that, in which you were half listening, half trying to ignore the way his short sleeved button up fit him.

There must be something in the air, there's stuff for that right? Perfume that makes you obnoxiously horny. Because that's the only reasonable explanation. 

You finish blow drying your hair, running the detangling oil through it, the one that smells like fruits.

Checking the time, 9:48. Layla is probably already asleep, you open your phone, checking for any notifications, a part of you already knows who you're looking for.

“Im so fucked.” Jake groans, hair messy, glasses forgotten, the first few buttons on his shirt open, his tone chest revealed.

He takes the drink the bartender offered him, her hand grazing his at the exchange, Jake doesn't even notice it. 

Sunghoon raises a brow at his state, looking at the woman behind the counter now serving a group of girls vodka shots.

The music isn't too loud, considering he specifically wanted a bar that wasn't meant for too much partying.

Jake looks around, the couples sitting down, happy, intertwined.

“Like I said, you just need some pussy.” Sunghoon mutters causally, looking as composed as ever.

“Yeah, hers.” Jake mumbles, making Sunghoon laugh, actually fucking laugh in his face. “I take it back, no amount of pussy is gonna save your ass.” 

“Fuck Hoon– they even put flowers on the bed. Don’t even get me started on the handcuffs either.” Jake rubs his temple in irritation.

“Hey, it took some real convincing to get them to go all in with the kinky shit.” Sunghoon raises his hands in defense, like that makes it any better.

“What makes you think I even–”

“Trust me, I know. Real recognizes real.” He says through a smirk. Jake can't help but let out a huffed chuckle, filled with amusement, and also disbelief.

“You know, this is honestly your fault.” Jake levels his gaze, downing the rest of his drink.

“You sure you don’t just need someone to blame for your heart throbbing obsession with your baby mama?” Sunghoon says through that shit eating grin he wears when he knows he's right. I mean hell, he might just be. 

Jake shakes his head, trying to get rid of any irrational thoughts, focusing on the truth, you want nothing to do with him in that way.

You probably hated him, most likely wouldn’t even be talking to him if it werent for Layla.

“Alright prove it then.” Sunghoon says, challenging. Jake raises a brow suspiciously, “That bartender right there in the tiny shorts, she's been eyeing you this whole time. You were too busy sulking about how much you want to fuck y/n to notice.” Sunghoon pauses for a moment, watching as Jake looks at the woman, her eyes locked on his before turning back to him.

“Flirt back, see where that leads you.” Sunghoon finished, downing the rest of his drink.

Jake chuckles, although there's no amusement filled in it, just straight up boredom. “Im not flirting with her, let alone fucking her.” Jake says, voice low.

Sunghoon's eyes light up immediately, victory gleaming in them. “Knew it.” He shakes his head, knowingly.

He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as his screen lights up with a notification. Jake watches as Sunghoon picks up his phone, reading whatever it is, typing, sending, and standing up.

“We’ve been here for less than 24 hours and you already found someone?” Jake asks, a tone of exhaustion.

“You already know it.” Sunghoon offers a playful wink, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Don’t forget about the meeting we have with Park Jongseong either, The Prada ambassadors are also attending.” Jake says sternly, his voice he uses for business coming out.

“Yes, sir.” Sunghoon chuckles, leaning against the stool for a second “You good for tonight though?” he asks, slight concern around the edges.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm headed back soon anyway.” Jake says, giving him a tight smile, Sunghoon watches him for a moment, before parting ways.

Jake stays for about five more minutes before standing up and walking back to the penthouse– to you. 

He's always been good about handling his alcohol, plus he didn't have much to drink anyway. So when you hear the sound of the door being unlocked, shut, and footsteps coming to the bedroom, you attempt to put on the facade of being fast asleep.

He walks in, closing the bedroom door shut behind him, eyes immediately on you, curled into the sheets like it was natural.

He doesn't know what comes over him when he walks over to your side of the bed, wanting to get a closer look at you, because it's been so.. so long since hes seen you like this.

He can't help himself when he brushes a finger over your cheek, it takes everything in you to stop your body from reacting.

“What are you doing to me..” He whispers, low, that you almost couldn't hear it. The slight smell of the crisp fresh air, his signature cologne,  and faint alcohol lingering off of him.

He steps back immediately, touch gone from your skin, like you burned him, or like realisation finally dawned.

You don't open your eyes yet, You listen to the sound of his footsteps, descending away from you, moving to the bathroom. 

You let out a breath, the one you've been holding ever since he opened the bedroom door, your heart beating rapidly, in a way it did when the boy you had a crush on in high school glanced your way. Childish, stupid. 

The shower feels big, empty, even more so as the cold water hits his skin repeatedly, hardly helping with the burning of his body, or the way his dick throbs the second you invade his thoughts without permission, again.

He’s fucking pathetic, you have every right to hate him.

In this moment of him being alone, surrounded by the dark, the dimmed lights illuminating the cold bathroom, all he can think about is how he would do anything to go back in time.

Put his fucked up pride to the side, anything to not be in this situation right now, with this need– not just for anyone, not for some random woman, but for you.

Because it's something about you, not just because of Layla, not because you’re ‘forced’ to be in each other's presence, he can't deny it anymore.

He can’t deny that he’s utterly obsessed with you, and absolutely fucked. Just like Sunghoon said. 

-

Falling asleep last night might have been one of the hardest things, considering you could practically feel the heat radiating off his body the second he slipped in the bed with you.

You stayed turned so you were facing the large balcony slide door, watching the moonlight seep in.

You didn't want it to affect you this much, but somehow it still did. So after finally getting the strength to get up, and get ready for the day, because you might as well attempt to enjoy being here in Italy. 

You see Jake, standing up at the edge of the counter, taking a sip of some expensive coffee.

“Took you long enough.” He tries, and fails to hide the way his eyes roam down your body, the way the floral dress clings to you, it could be considered modest, but the way it hugs your curves, makes him think things he probably shouldn't.

You raise your brow in question, closing the distance to make yourself coffee as well. He places a mug in front of you instead, catching you off guard.

You turn to look at him, eyes scanning his face, the glasses sitting on top of his head to the rather simple outfit he's sporting today.

“Whats with you, do you want something?” You ask skeptically.

Fuck yeah he wants something, preferably you though, sitting on his face perchance?

“Am I not allowed to make coffee for the mother of my child?” He turns fully, using the counter as support to lean against. 

You level your eyes even more, “I was going to head to the estate, see Layla, maybe we can take her out for the day.” He takes another sip of his coffee, brushing past you to place the mug in the sink.

“Together?” You ask suspiciously, confusion settling in your tone. “Yes y/n, together.” He says like it's the most obvious thing. Like you two do this all the time, when in reality you don’t even remember the last time he suggested something like this, if he even did.

“I mean we're both here, she's always going on about how she wants us both.” He offers lightly, watching the way your face softens.

“Okay then, for Layla.” You clarify, taking a sip of the coffee he prepared for you, the rich taste settling just right. 

“We also have dinner in 2 days with Park Jongseong and his girlfriend.” He adds in casually. Washing the mug off in the sink.

Your brain pauses for a moment, processing what just came out of his mouth. “Knew you wanted something.” You chuckle, but it's humorless.

“Its one fucking dinner y/n.” he turns, facing you. “Yeah, and a whole week of being here, stuck with you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, closes it. “We can talk about this later. Right now let's focus on Layla.”

He says it like he's being the bigger person here. As if he's not dropping things on you left and right, and that irritates you even more.

But you don’t fight it, because a part of him is right, you two can stop your bickering for a few hours to spend time with your daughter. 

-

“The purple one?” Layla asks, looking up at you, than at Jake, you glance down at the gelato in front of you, “One lavender please” You smile at the man behind the counter as he scoops it into a cone, “One lavender Gelato for you” He hands it to her, her eyes lighting up as she takes it,

“Anything for the happy couple?” He asks, eyes darting between you and Jake, you don't notice the way he stills beside you. “Can I get the Raspberry please?” The kind man nods, handing you the cone, some of it dripping on your hand due to the warm weather.

“Ill take the salted caramel” He pays for it, walking on the other side of Layla, “Should we sit at the table?” You ask Layla, looking down at her as she tries to keep up with the steps you and Jake take, her pigtails swaying with her, you smile at how happy she is.

“Yes!” Jake helps her up, taking the seat next to her, you settle for the one across from them.

Jake smiles at Layla, as she goes on about something related to her toys, and how ‘Hoon’ needs to come back and play as the fairy doll again, his eyes go to you, the light pink gelato dripping down your hand, the way your tongue darts out to lick it off.

It's like his body reacts before his mind does, he reaches over, swiping his thumb across the bottom of your lip, the gelato that dripped being cleaned up.

You freeze, eyes immediately on him. He retracts his hand immediately, “Sorry– you had something-” He stops talking when the sound of his phone cuts through, picking it up and reading whatever is on his screen.

“Are you done, Lay?” Jake looks down at Layla beside him, she nods, “Let me guess, you have somewhere to be?” You ask unsurprising. 

“Its Park Jongseong and the Prada ambassadors— nevermind” He replies blandly, standing up and helping Layla, you chuckle, but not in amusement, or in surprise, because you knew this was going to happen anyway.

“Come on Lay, you know..” You smile down at her, before looking up at him, a certain glint in your eyes. “Daddy apparently has better things to do.”

You can feel his eyes boring into you, you don't look at him when you stand up and hold her hand. Who cares if it's childish, or bratty, you’re right anyway.

“I love you angel, be good okay?” You press a light kiss to Layla's forehead, Jake gives her a hug, before heading to the front door, you offer a tight smile to his mother before following after him. 

You don't bother looking at him, or trying to talk to him once you're both in the car. You watch as Sunghoon’s name flashes across the screen, a call.

Jake looks at you for a second, before hesitantly pressing accept. “Final fuckingly man, had me thinking you actually got some–” “You’re on speaker Sunghoon.” Jake cuts through his words.

“Oh shit.. Uh– hey y/n” you can practically see the fake concern on his face. Jake sighs, urging him to continue

“Right so, Park Jongseong’s assistant said the Prada ambassadors are already at his office, they're just waiting on us.” Jake bites down on his lip, hard. “Fuck– okay, tell them ill be there shortly.” 

“I got you, don’t get too distracted..” Sunghoon says through a chuckle before hanging up. You feel a slight blush coat your cheeks at that, turning your head more towards the window to avoid Jake's gaze.

Every few minutes, he can't help when his eyes shift to you, the faint sunkissed glow coating your skin, the way your dress clings to your body–

You regret the way you acted earlier, it was a little bratty, and petty..but then again you've always been, at least according to him.

He puts the car into park, unlocking the door, you don't say anything but before you step out, you turn your face towards him.

“About earlier.. It was uncalled for, I understand you’re busy, I shouldn't have said that in front of Layla.” You bite on your lip nervously, a habit he's noticed since the day your parents introduced the two of you. 

He raises a brow, a playful smirk on his face “Are you apologizing?” He asks, eyeing you up and down

“What– I mean.. I-” You stumble over your words, making him let out an amused laugh “It’s fine y/n. I know I'm not the best..” He pauses, looking down for a split second to think of the right word “..arrange..ment.” he cringes at the end,

“I try for Layla, even with the shit from the company piling up.” His hand rests steady on the steering wheel, You watch his face, his eyes, taking in the sincerity.

“You’re a good father, Jake.”

You don't try to put on a forced smile, before stepping out of the car fully, shutting the door behind you, the second you're out of sight he buries his face in his hands, letting out a strangled groan. God– you’re killing him, so fucking slowly. 

-

“Fuck– Ive been wanting to do this for so long” Jake says through a groan, pounding ruthlessly into you. You mutter something back, face buried into the soft pillows beneath you, not even caring about the saliva coming out of your mouth from how hard he’s fucking you. 

“Want me to fill this pretty pussy up again?” he leans down, pulling your hair back to expose your neck, hips slamming into you, making your back arch against his chest. You're a moaning mess under him, his teeth nip below your ear, his free hand holding your hip, grounding you as his thrusts grow sharper—

Jake freezes at the door of the bedroom as soon as he opens it, eyes wide looking at you, the sheets tangled around the ends of your feet, almost your whole body exposed, the oversized T-shirt you're wearing ridden up to reveal a glimpse of your underboob, your light pink sleep shorts practically sticking to your core, a faint outline of your pussy visible even through the clothing layers with how wet you seem to be.

Theres no fucking way– 

A whine escapes your lips, or was it a moan? He can't help but step closer, lingering at the edge of the bed, your body squirms, thighs squeezing together in a poor attempt to satisfy the throbbing heat between your legs.

The smell of you so fucking delicious, clouding his senses. He almost feels sorry for you, gosh you must be desperate if you're having a wet dream in the middle of your shared bed with him. You let out another small noise, or was it a word? 

He brings his finger up, gently swiping away a bead of sweat from above your eyebrow, trailing down your arm, lightly over the curve of your exposed hip, leaning closer to hear you better

“J-Jake..” You whisper, barely audible, he stills, stepping back, running a hand through his hair.

Fuck this is wrong.. This is so, so wrong, He looks down at you again, biting his lip in thought. 

He ultimately grabs the sheet, bringing it up from your feet to cover your body, trying to ignore the heat of your skin.

This cannot be real. He glances down at you one more time before going to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click, leaning against it.

Letting the cool crisp air swallow him, anything to get rid of what he's feeling right now. He looks down, the hard bulge now clearly visible in his pants.

Bringing his hand down to palm himself through them, he hisses at the contact, how sensitive he is right now. 

He wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt, discarding his pants and underwear next, stepping inside of the big shower, cool tile against his feet, he turns on the water, the warmth coating his skin.

The water drips down his body, he lifts a hand to steady himself against the black tile wall, bringing his other down to wrap around his thick cock, practically standing on its own, tip angry and red from how much he's neglected his own pleasure.

Pumping his fist once, a bead of pre cum slips out of the slit, mixing with the warm shower water as it drains beneath his feet.

“Fuck..” He groans, fucking into his fist faster, leaning his head back as the water falls onto his face, his mouth hangs open, he closes his eyes, trying to imagine what you were thinking about, fuck his name sounds so pretty coming from your mouth, especially like that. 

His groans grow more ragged as he strokes himself faster, “y/n..” he bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood as his warm cum spurts out, coating the dark tile wall, dripping down, making a mess on his hand, he looks down, eyebrows furrowed as he attempts to milk every last drop, watching as the water washes it away.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, almost pitying himself and this whole situation. 

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, the bright sun shining in through the sheer curtains illuminating the bedroom.

Even in the shower as the warm water hits your skin, you couldn't shake the dream you had last night, how real it felt, the way he spoke, the way he touched you– the closeness of it all, so vividly in your reach. 

You decided, well actually you were technically forced to use this day for yourself.

He was working. In all honesty, he didn't have to, but being with you again, alone, was killing him. 

You were enjoying yourself, as one would do in Italy of all places, soaking in the warm sun on the balcony, book in hand when you got the text, the one that made your phone vibrate a little too loudly against the glass side table.

Something about it already told you it wasn't going to be good.

Jake: Client dinner tonight with Park Jongseong and his girlfriend. 7:00. Your dress is being dropped off now. I’ll be there at 6:45 to pick you up. Clean up for me, yeah?

You read the message once, twice, practically hearing the smugness in his voice at the last few words.

You type out a reply, delete it. He smirks down at his phone, seeing that you read it was enough. 

Exactly 30 minutes later, the same woman from the airplane stands at the front door of the penthouse, garment bag in hand.

“Thank you.” You give her a soft smile, one that she attempts to mirror back, handing the dress to you. “Mr. Sim informed me you had the jewelry you needed, but if you need me too I can arrange–” 

“It's fine.” You reply back dryly, she pauses for a moment “God, Sorry I'm just stressed” You fold the dress over your arm.

“Thank you, and yes I have everything I need.” You say, breathing out. She offers a tight lipped smile, giving a polite nod before walking back towards the elevator, you shut the door once she's out of sight.

“Oh my gosh–” you gape at the dress, fully taking it out of the garment bag, laying on the bed before you.

The dark red contrasts with the white sheets, the cut a little too deep for something like this. You glance at the time on your phone, 5:26, if you start getting ready now you should be done before he gets here.. You bite your lip, contemplating. No harm in starting early, you have nothing to do in the meantime anyway. 

“Y/n–” Jake's eyes trail down your body, shamelessly, like he has the right– “You look..”

“Dont.” You hold your hand up giving him an almost strict look, while also suddenly feeling conscious of how low cut the dress is, the silk material soft on your skin.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, eyes staying glued to your chest without you knowing before putting the car into drive. 

Park Jongseong, or Jay, as his girlfriend called him came in shortly after you and Jake sat down, the restaurant had a warm glow to it, truly an elegant place.

His girlfriend had the most genuine smile on her face. The dinner was going smoothly, as anything work related with Jake could be until she asked a question that had both you and Jake tensing beside each other

“So, How long have you two been married?” She asks sweetly, genuine curiosity in her eyes, you look at Jake for a split second, missing the way Jay squeezes her thigh, “Um- well we-” Jake interrupts quickly

“We had Layla four years ago, so around that.. Time.” He says, clearing his throat. The conversation quickly switches thanks to Jay.

The ride back was quiet until Jake decided to open his mouth. “Do you think I was too obvious?” He asks, eyes on the thin road before him, you turn your head from the window, looking at him, analysing the nervous way he brings his lip between his teeth, the slight movement of his jaw.

“What? About how we’re not actually the perfect, happy family you seem to paint us as?” You ask, a surprising calmness in your voice.

He shoots you a look, eyes dropping to your lips for a split second, before looking away just as quickly.

You scoff, “Anyone with half a brain could see.” 

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” He pulls the car into park, looking at you, expecting an answer.

“Im not doing this tonight.” You reach to open the car door but he stops your hand, grip tight, not enough to hurt, but enough to assert something deep. 

“No. Tell me what you mean.” You shake off his hand, the heat of it too much on your skin, praying that he didn't notice the way your pulse spiked the second his skin made contact with yours.

You sigh, facing him fully.

“You don't act like my husband Jake. You never have, anyone could see that. Honestly, we're practically strangers at this point, the only thing keeping us together is Layla.”

You pause, trying to point out whatever emotion is flashing behind his eyes before continuing with a sigh, “Our marriage is a mere title, so dont be fucking shocked when it becomes clear as day to everyone else.”

“Y/n—“ he starts but you’re already leaning away. He doesn't stop you when you open the door, shutting it a little too hard behind you as you make your way into the building, the sole of your heels digging into your feet in a way that makes you want to throw them on the ground.

Jake slams his hand down against the steering wheel, running a hand through his hair, he turns off the car, locking it behind him before following you, because no way in hell is he ending the night like that. 

Your heart is racing when you shut the door behind you, all while resisting the urge to sink to the ground.

You take off your heels by the door, immediately removing the unnecessarily heavy jewelry from your neck and ears.

You hold your hand up to your chest, feeling the consistent beating of your heart. The familiar click of the door lets you know Jake just walked in. 

You stand up quickly, moving to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, acting as if it was another barrier between the two of you.

Without a thought you slip off the red silk from your body, letting it fall to the dark tiled ground. Walking into your side of the shower you turn on the water, letting it warm up enough till the steam is visible, you’re in need of anything to drown out how you're feeling right now, you step under it, letting the water fall into your hair, wetting your body, the steam clouds around you, almost creating a blanket in the open coolness of the bathroom.

You thread your fingers through your hair, letting the water seep into every bit of your scalp. The warm, dimmed light of the bathroom reflecting slightly off of the dark glossy tile wall before you. 

Jake tosses his keys on the marbled counter, swinging open the bedroom door, only to find it empty.

The faint sound of water falling onto tile seeping out from under the bathroom door has his attention immediately.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning against his knees.

God, he's going to regret this.

He stands up, taking off his tie with practiced ease, doing the same with his belt, untucking his white button up, and unbuttoning it halfway before opening the door to the bathroom, the fan does nothing to get rid of the steam filling the open space. The large glass wall is fogged up, he can almost see the outline of your silhouette if he squints. 

You don't see him, or hear him, the only sound filling your ears being the water hitting your skin and the tile beneath your feet.

You turn to the side slightly, eyes closed, he traces the curve of your breast, swallowing before unbuttoning the other half of his shirt and discarding the rest of the clothes on the ground beside your dress.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, looking down at his flushed dick practically standing on its own from how fucking hard he is. 

Jake steps in, turning on the shower head a few feet away from you, the new heat bringing a fresh cloud of steam to cover you.

He doesn't look at you as he steps under the water, letting it wet his hair. You watch him, a slightly stunned expression on your face “Jake–” The word comes out breathless, almost pathetic.

He chuckles low. “Y/n.” He glances in your direction, eyes staying on your face.

The awareness kicks in, that you're in the shower alone, with only a few feet of distance between the two of you. 

You can't help your eyes, you really tried, but they trail down his body, his toned form.

Fuck, hes definitely been working out.

Your eyes ultimately land on his cock, watching the way the water drips down his body. The wetness forming between your legs has nothing to do with the shower water falling on your body, and everything to do with him. 

He notices you looking, even with the barrier of steam between the two of you.

He doesn't bother turning off his shower head, closing the space between the two of you. His hand reaches out, not touching yet. Completely lost in the moment.

You let out a noise, it was supposed to be a word, maybe for him to stop?

No, it was definitely for him to keep going. When he speaks it comes out rough, uncontrolled, so  different from how he speaks to everyone else. “Strangers huh?” You don't meet his gaze. 

He brings his hand to your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes, his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, your mouth opening almost on command.

His cock jumps at the sight. The warm water soaks through your hair, the sensation of it forgotten with this new heat before you.

“Do strangers do this?” He brings his hand down, tracing your collar bone with his finger, you shudder at the touch. 

He smirks at the way you're body reacts to his featherlight touches.

You gasp when his finger circles around your nipple smoothly. “Fuck, these tits are perfect” He brings his other hand up, repeating the motion on the other side.

You shudder, letting out a breathless sound, your nipples hardening from his teasing touch. “You’re sensitive huh?” He chuckles down at you, nudging his cock against your stomach.

“Shut up..” You’re cut off when he gives both of your nipples a firm pinch. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?” He asks, voice low, only for you to hear even though you’re alone.

He brings one of his hands lower, just past your belly button, pausing for an answer. You shake your head, closing your eyes. 

“Come on mama, give me words.” He encourages sweetly even as his cock jumps at the sight of you before him like this.

“Not since you.” You whisper so low the sound of the shower water covers it. He shakes his head, inching down lower, cupping your soaking heat in the palm of his hand, you let out a moan, reaching both hands out, grabbing his veiny forearm to steady yourself.

He slowly rocks his palm against you. “Say that again.” He presses harder, reaching around to tilt your head back so he can really see. 

“I said, not since you.” He lets out a sound that you definitely aren't mistaking as a moan.

“Fuck–” He bites back his words, hand still cupping you, your juices leaking past his fingers, blending with the warm water pooling beneath you both.

“So this whole time..” He pauses, removing his hand from your heat, earning a whimper from you, "..you've had nothing but these.”

He lifts your right hand up, brushing over your middle and ring finger, the touch gentle. 

You nod, a slight blush creeping up your face, a part of you would feel a little embarrassed, maybe ashamed if not for the situation right now.

“Show me.” He urges, bring your hand down, he backs you up a few inches until your back is flushed against the cool tile walls, the warm water contrasting,

“You have to do it too then..” You look down at his cock, veins prominent, tip aching. He follows your gaze, smirking.

You two match each other's pace, you spread your legs ever so slightly, the best you can for standing up, rubbing small circles on your sensitive bud, the feeling even more exhilarating with him watching you so intently.

The little ‘ah’ sounds you’re letting out sending pulses straight to his dick. He brings his own hand down, swiping his thumb over the slit of his cock. Mouth hanging open as he wraps his hand around the base.

You feel yourself get even more wet at the sight, the desperate huffs he's letting out, his eyes don't know what to focus on, ultimately landing on your pussy when you push one of your small fingers in, the squelching noise so clear above everything else, he lets out a groan, a bead of pre cum leaking from his tip.

“Let me taste you” He breathes out, hand stopping your wrist. You freeze, looking up at him “Please..I- fuck, I need to.”

He brings your fingers up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick before sucking them clean, the sight alone draws a wrecked sound from you.

“Jake..” You whisper out, dragging your fingers out of his mouth, smearing them on his chin, he looks so pathetic like this.

He reaches beside you, turning down the pressure of the water before lowering himself to the ground, his eyes never leave yours.

He lifts one of your legs, pressing a light kiss on your inner thigh, trailing smaller kisses closer to where you need him most, he rests your leg on his bare shoulder, completely exposing you to him,

“You dont know how fucking bad ive wanted this y/n..” He whispers breath ghosting over your slick folds. “..how much I've craved this, even all those years ago.”

You bump your pussy against his face and he wastes no time licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, you arch against the cool tile wall, pressing yourself even more on his face, his hands travel up your body, cupping your ass in his hands, palming the soft flesh, bringing you impossibly closer.

He's completely lost in you, not letting a single drop of your arousal leak anywhere except in his mouth.

His nose nudges your clit every time he fucks his tounge into your hole, “Yeah.. fuck, f-feels so good..” You bring your hands up, lacing them in his wet hair.

He mumbles something back, the vibration making your hips jerk, he brings one of his hands down from your ass, sneaking it up to replace his tongue with two of his slender fingers, the new feeling so different from your own fingers.

He looks up at you, the way your head is thrown back against the cool wall, mouth hanging open, fuck you’re beautiful like this. 

He latches his lips onto your aching clit, flicking it with his tongue as his fingers work your tight hole.

You tug his hair harder, encouraging him without words, his fingers inside of you curl just right, hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, he sucks even harder on your clit, feeling your walls flutter around his fingers, greedily sucking them in.

A moan, almost a scream escapes from your lips as a fresh round of juices flood out of you, soaking the lower half of his face, he greedily drinks everything you let out, not letting a drop go to waste. 

He lowers your leg back on the ground, pressing a light kiss to your thigh before leaving wet ones up your body, kissing his way along your jaw, your cheeks, your lip–

He pauses when he feels your body tense against his. His lips less than an inch away from yours.

“Whats wrong–” He leans back slightly, eyes darting across your face “I..I cant” He tilts his head, hands still on your waist but a confused look washes over his face

"I'm not going to force you to do anything mama, but why?” He searches your eyes for an answer “Jake– we haven't even kissed since the wedding” 

“Y/n, you just let me eat you out, which to be fair I would do it a thousand times more, but a kiss is too much for you?”

You bring your hands up, burying your face in them “Fuck, I know okay? We were just caught up in the moment–” You don't see it, but he's looking at you with genuine sadness, not because you won't go any further, but because you’re not even comfortable enough to do so,

“Baby-” he starts, bringing his own hand up to pull yours from your face but you stop him, moving around, too ashamed to even look in his eyes.

“We can just forget this happened okay?” His hands fall to his sides, “But-”

“Please, I–I can't go through it again.” Your voice cracks, a pain sharpening in your chest.

He opens his mouth to speak but you turn before he can, grabbing a towel from the nicely folded pile, the water feels cold now, almost limp as he stares at the spot you were just standing in. 

He licks his lips, the faint taste of you still lingering.

He curses himself for acting on instinct, it was too fast and he knew it. But how couldn't he? You’re irresistible, the only constant desire in his life that never fades. So no, he's not just going to ‘forget this’.

He'd be stupid to.

-

You try to ignore Jake's eyes on you throughout the plane ride, focusing on anything except for him, whether it's Layla showing you something on her I pad, or Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker bickering over something useless.

It's best to just pretend like nothing happened, so treating him the exact same as you did before this trip is the best way to do that. 

You grab your bag from the overhead bin, helping Layla put her dolls in her small backpack, moving to get off his plane without a word, when he grabs your wrist.

“Sunghoon.” He says, eyes not leaving yours for a second. Sunghoon closes the distance, “Take Layla to y/ns car.” he nods before picking her up, Jake's other coworker follows after.

You turn fully to look at him, arms crossed over your chest in annoyance. “What?”

“I’m not forgetting what happened.” His eyes drop to your lips, making it known he's looking.

“Well I am.” you try to reply calmly, composed. But there's a slight tremble in your voice, one that he doesn't miss. Something washes over his face.

He straightens his shoulders “Okay.” Is all he says before brushing past you, leaving you in the middle of the wide aisle.

Him with the last word, one that you're trying to make sense of. Because there was so much more hidden underneath it, a part of you doesn't even want to know. 

You see Sunghoon crouching down to Layla's level, saying something that makes her giggle. He stands when he sees you, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“See you later Mrs. Sim.” You roll your eyes, opening the car door to help Layla get inside, closing it.

“Park.” You call out, Sunghoon stops, turning slightly with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Make sure he doesn't do anything reckless.” 

He lets out a low chuckle, looking at the ground before his focus is back on you. “I can try, but I can’t promise anything.” Is all he says before offering his infamous wink, hands tucked nonchalantly in his suit pant pockets, walking away.

-

Everyone has different ways of coping, sulking around could be one.

But that was never something Jake found relieving. So here he is, at some club with none other than Park Sunghoon.

“You’ve got this sexy dad look about you..” Some girl, who he doesn't even remember the name of says, fingers brushing over the collar of his shirt along the thin silver chain that clings to his skin. 

Jake's attention is brought back to her, she's a pretty girl, short black hair, but nothing she's saying is interesting to him.

She presses closer to him, purposely positioning her tits on his arm, teasing. She thinks she's being subtle but it's painfully obvious.

He looks over her shoulder, at the dance floor where Sunghoon has his hands on some blonde girl's waist as they practically dry hump each other.

He chuckles, the girl in front of him beaming proudly, thinking she's the one who made him laugh. 

“Do you wanna maybe..” The girl leans in close, standing on her tip toes to reach his ear, lips grazing “..get out of here?”

He looks down at her, boredom plastered on his face. “No.” Is all he says, the girl raises her brow, offended.

Jake takes another sip of his drink, not even sure what one he's on. She scoffs, stepping back from pressing against him

“What do you mean ‘no’?” She asks accusingly. “No, as in I don't want you.” He states in an obvious tone. 

Sunghoon curses under his breath whispering something into the ear of the woman he's dancing with before walking through the crowd effortlessly to get to him.

“Fucking—” She yells, a little too loudly, to the point where Sunghoon can hear it a few feet away, and heads are turning towards the scene.

Jake rolls his eyes, “Im not interested.” He shrugs, downing the rest of his drink, the girl straightens to say something else, but Sunghoon cuts in between the two.

“Alright, I think it's time for us to go!” He says a bit too energetically, hand resting on Jake's shoulder. The girl rolls her eyes “Your friends an asshole.” She mutters before walking away to go flirt with some other guy, Sunghoon turns, facing Jake completely now. 

“What?” Jake asks, like it's completely normal.

“Dude, you were the one who said you ‘needed some pussy to take your mind off things’ and when a chick practically throws herself at you, literally by the way, you reject it?”

Sunghoon looks Jake up and down like a mad man, "She's not her.” Jake mutters, voice low, as if you could hear him talking right now. 

Sunghoon chuckles, actually fucking chuckles at his state. “Oh I see, let me guess, you did some shit, right? Thought with your dick instead of your head?”

When he doesn't respond, Sunghoon laughs in his face. “I should’ve known, man.” 

“I fucked it up.” Jake groans, running his hand through his tousled hair, down his face, the slight stubble that he let grow a few weeks after the Italy trip scratching his hand roughly.

“You didnt fuck her right?” Sunghoon asks, an unfamiliar seriousness in his voice. “What– thats” “Okay thats answer enough.” 

“Maybe try actually sitting down, having a conversation?” Sunghoon suggests, trying his best with advice.

“She won't even look at me, and besides that she acts the same. But it fucking hurts.” Jake sighs, leaning against the bar counter.

Sunghoon watches him for a few seconds, making a ‘yikes’ face “Damn, you really got it bad huh?”

Jake pulls out his phone from his pocket, fingers finding their way to your contact, he clicks on the messages, the last thing in the chat being a photo of Him, Layla, and you eating Gelato in Italy together.

In the photo, someone might actually think he had the perfect family, beautiful wife, and daughter. If only they knew.

Jake types something, fumbling over the keyboard, Sunghoon looks down at the phone, eyes widening

“Absolutely fucking not.” He snatches the phone from Jake's hand earning a glare “I need to talk to her.” Jake says firmly.

“Not when you’re wasted like this” Sunghoon chuckles, tucking the phone in his own pocket. “Give me the fucking phone Hoon.” 

“No, because you’re literally going to kill me tomorrow for letting you text her.” Sunghoon backs up a step, Jake takes a step forward.

“Or I could now for not letting me text her.” Jake levels his gaze on him, “Alright fine” He says finally, pulling out the phone from his pocket

“Let me do something first though” Jake watches as he types something random on his phone, multiple times before realising “You fucking–” Jake snatches his phone back, 

iPhone Unavailable

Try again in 3 hours

“Whoops” Sunghoon shrugs, before his attention is pulled from the same blonde girl from earlier tapping his shoulder, Jake watches as his flirty persona immediately makes a comeback

“Bathrooms empty if you wanna..” Jake blocks out the rest of the words, signaling the bartender to come over “Do you guys have a phone I could borrow?” He asks, genuine curiosity in his tone, the younger man nods, handing him one from the counter.

Sunghoons eyes turn back to Jake for a split second to see him dialing your number “Fuck– fuck, no.” He snatches the phone from him, cursing before turning to the girl he was just talking to,

“Gimme a few minutes okay baby?” Sunghoon says to the girl, she blushes and nods, his attention goes back to Jake and the phone immediately.

“Hello?” You say confused, sitting up in bed, trying to see if you heard the words right.. Maybe someone accidentally called your number?

Sunghoon curses, glaring at Jake who shrugs with a cocky shit eating grin on his face. “Yeah, hey Y/n.” Sunghoon says, defeat evident in his voice. “Park?” You ask, now fully seated up in your bed.

You turn up the volume, the faint sound of music and chatter in the back, but the sound of him bickering with someone covers most of it, you only catch every other word–”Give me–the phone!” You sigh

“Park what's going on?” You hear him groan on the other end, and persumabley Jake say something along the lines of “Fuck you” 

“Sorry! Wrong number” Is all you hear before the line goes blank, you look down at your phone in confusion. 

“Yeah, we're leaving now.” Sunghoon says, turning to the blonde girl who was definitely about to be his fuck for the night.

She looks up at him, hope gleaming in her eyes, but frowns when he says he has to go. 

“You’re so fucking lucky to have me, I actually just saved your ass.” Sunghoon mutters, “Maybe I should just email her..” Jake contemplates, saying his thoughts out loud, tapping his screen to see there's 2 hours and 48 minutes left on his phone.

“Okay noted, take away the computer too.” Sunghoon shakes his head, chuckling.

-

Holy fuck. Is all you could think of when Jake answers his front door, grey sweatpants, and black fucking compression shirt out of all things on. Hair tousled, slick with sweat.

You should have known coming to drop off Layla in the morning wasn't a good move, especially since Sunghoon's car was also in the driveway. 

He chuckles at your reaction, like he knows something you don't. “Daddy!” Layla says, practically jumping into Jake's arms as if she wasn't falling asleep in the car a few minutes ago.

You tighten your grasp on her light pink backpack, Jake moves for you to step in, “You missed me Princess?” He asks in a gentle tone.

You walk to the open kitchen, but pause when you see Sunghoon, dressed in familiar attire to Jake, pouring what is probably a protein shake into two different cups. 

He doesn't look up to know it's you. “Hoon!” Layla wiggles out of Jake's arms, running over to Sunghoon who just laughs at her, “Mommy, can I have the mermaid doll please!” She asks, looking up at you with those adorable brown eyes, the ones that look just like Jakes.

You can't help the smile that lights up your face before getting them from her bag. She giggles before looking up at Sunghoon who sets down his shake.

“Well Miss. Layla, im ready when you are” He says, taking the doll from her and going to the living room where Jake has her toys set up. 

Jake lets a small laugh slip at the interaction. You bring your attention back to him, his eyes take in your clothes, from the business pants, to the blazer that fits you all too well.

“Okay, um– don't forget she has ballet lessons twice a week.” You bite your lip, trying to conceal how fucking nervous hes making you right now.

I mean, who even looks that good after the gym, gosh you shouldn't be thinking like this right now. Especially with everything–

“Y/n.”

“No.” You feel your heart racing as the word comes out, “I haven't even said–” He starts “Jake.”

“mama, please let me talk to you..” He closes the distance between the two of you, you try not to show a reaction at the name, the one he called you that night, the night you can't seem to forget.

You peak over his shoulder to see Sunghoon sitting on the ground with Layla, playing with the dolls. “Not here, not when she can hear.” You say quietly.

He nods, walking upstairs to his office, catching Sunghoon's eye, who just cocks a brow at him. 

“Okay, what's so important.” You shut the door behind you, watching as he leans over his desk, back to you.

He turns to face you, "I'm sorry for the other night, calling you like that was immature of me and as Layla's father I shouldn't have–” 

“Yeah, I know.” You interrupt, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I'm trying to apologize here y/n.” He sighs frustratingly, as if this is some chore or task he has to do.

“No, you’re trying to make yourself feel better.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, “You would think someone who was going to inherit a billion dollar company in the next year would know better, but no–” 

“Im fucking trying here okay?!” He lowers his voice, trying to avoid getting into an argument loud enough for Layla to hear, even though the room is already noise cancelling.

“Thats the same shit ive heard since I was 13 years old y/n, its fucking drilled in my mind.” He steps closer to you, towering over your frame.

“Everything, planned, laid out, my whole future already decided the second I came out the womb.—So yes, I'm aware of what I inherit, I'm aware of the responsibilities I have.” You open your mouth to speak, but close it when nothing comes out.

He continues, “I know I fucked up–” He pauses, resisting the urge to pull you in, cling to you, because as of right now, even if you hate him you’re still the only thing he sees as an anchor in his life. 

“—And not just the other night. In Italy, I shouldn't have, it was reckless and-”

“Jake.”

“-and stupid, you just- I couldn't resist you”

“Jake!” You cut through his words like a knife. The only sound in the room being your trembling voice, and his unsteady breath.

“Dont do this to me. Not right now.” You clench your fist to steady the way it shakes. “Y/n, please– you wont let me any other time besides when either one of us drops off Lay.”

“Because you’re her father Jake! That's all you are. It might say you’re my husband on paper, but you’re not. We dont owe eachother anything, and you made that very fucking clear 5 years ago.” You watch his eyebrows furrow in the way a lost puppy would, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

You bite your tongue, regretting the way the words came out. It takes everything in you to not crumble to the floor, right here in front of him. 

Something shifts in his eyes, he takes a step back from you, distancing himself as much as he can in the confined space.

He doesn't look at you as he turns his back to you, leaning against his desk.

“You know the way out.” He says over his shoulder, tone cold. “Jake..” you whisper

“You know the way out.” he repeats more firmly. You watch him for a moment, before turning and walking out. 

It takes everything in him to not take back his words, to beg you to come back for him to say sorry a thousand times if he has to.

-

That night, you still couldn't get the interaction out of your head, you don't know how many times you tossed and turned in your empty bed, the silence of the house unbearable.

Even throughout the week, it replayed. The look in his eyes, the shift in his face when he told you to get out. 

You know he works hard, you know he is a good father. And you definitely know what it's like to have your life laid out for you. 

So walking through the front doors of the company building wasn't exactly a part of the plan, but it's like your feet were carrying themselves.

The bright daylight shining through the completely glass walls, the city streets bustling outside as usual.

As you walked to the front desk, heads turned towards you, some whispering, some silently observing. 

“Mrs. Sim?” You hear a familiar voice say, walking towards you, You don't have to look to know who it is.

“Park.” You say, turning to face him, leaning against the front counter. “What a surprise.” He can't hide the smug grin on his face as he approaches you. “Im here to see Jake.”

“Oh, you mean you’re not actually here just to see the office?” His tone is laced with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.

“I was just heading up there, come on.” He chuckles, “But I need to inform Mr.Sim–” The woman at the front desk starts, “Greta, baby, It's the Bosses wife we're talking about here.” You roll your eyes, “Don’t give us a hard time m’kay?” he says sweetly, winking down at her. You watch as she blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

You follow after him, stepping into the elevator. “You’re actually disgusting." You cross your arms over your chest, glancing sideways at him.

“What? It's not my fault they can't resist my charm.” Sunghoon shrugs, adjusting his tie.

The elevator dings, signaling its reached the top floor, you look at him, but your eyes drop to the hint of color below the collar of his white button up.

Your brow raises, squinting to see the slightly red hue of it. “First door past the window.” He nods down the hallway, stepping out of the elevator. 

You watch him for a split second, but he pauses when you call after him “Park.”

He turns to look at you, humming in response “You got a little something.” You say, pointing to his collar, he looks down, and you notice his frame immediately still.

You offer one of those too sweet smiles before making your way down the hall. 

Your hand hovers over the door, before finally knocking. Jake assumes it's one of his assistants so naturally he says a steady “Come in.”, accent sharp and cutting through your train of thought.

You inhale once before opening the door. He doesn't look up until the door clicks shut behind you, and when he does, his face shifts. 

“Y/n– what are you doing here?” He doesn't know why he stands, but he does anyway, hands braced on his desk, you look around his big office, the dark brown leather couch, to the tall bookshelves, and the window with a perfect view of everything 50 stories below.

You try not to stare too much.

“Um- well I just wanted to make sure you knew about Layla's ballet recital in a few weeks, they just sent the email out so.. Yeah.” You cringe slightly at the words, and with how obvious you are. 

He raises a suspicious brow at you, “So you drove here, to the same building you haven't bothered visiting in 5 years, just to tell me something that was sent in my email.”

It's not a question. “Well- I.. you know,” He can't hide the small smirk that plays on his lips

“I–” You pause, trying to regain your composure. “I wanted to..apologize.” You watch his reaction, the curious tilt of his head.

“Apologize?” he rounds his desk, leaning against the front of it, arms still crossed over his chest, assessing you. 

“For the other day.. In your study.” You try not to cringe at the memory, “And for Italy.” Something flashes over his face

“Y/n–” he starts “No. Let me finish.” He shuts his mouth immediately and you continue.

“I said some hurtful things that night, In the..shower.” You avoid his gaze “It was wrong for me to use you like that.” His tongue runs over his lips, remembering the taste of you that night. 

“And then in your study, when you tried apologizing to me– I didn't mean to go off on you like that, and I know you’re trying, I know the pressure you feel, and with everything you said about your life being planned–”

He's watching you closely as you speak, not interrupting. “But God, Its so fucking hard to forget Jake. I try so hard, for Layla—You look at her with so much love. And then you look at me, like I'm a– task.. A chore?”

You question your choice of words. “And it hurts so fucking much.” You breath out, the words rough and vulnerable.

You blink back the tears threatening to pour out, his hands fall to his sides, and it's like his body moves before his mind can process it. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you towards him , one hand wrapping around your back, the other cradling your head against his chest, resting on the top of your head.

“Jake..” You say through a trembling breath, hands clawed at his chest. “Shh mama, I got you.” he whispers, his thumb rubbing small circles on your back.

He pulls back, "I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to hurt you–I.. Fuck” He runs his hand through his hair, taking a step back to breath.

“You cloud every thought in my mind y/n. Every single day, every single hour, I can't stay mad at you for the life of me. Im—Im really not good at this..” he looks down at you, biting his lip nervously

“I don't think you understand how bad I regret how I treated you, How I made you feel.” He steps closer again, “I was– no I am an asshole. God, you have every right to hate me.” He chuckles but it's humorless

“Jake.. I don't hate you..” He meets your eyes at that, looking at you, really looking at you, the shared vulnerability between you two right now in this moment. 

Your hand moves from your side, hesitating before cupping his face in your hand, he leans into the touch immediately, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

“I can't get you out of my head y/n.” He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to your palm, a small gasp leaving your lips at the intimacy of it.

“Im sorry, I know we have a lot to work on—but please..” He whispers, holding your hand in his, moving it to press a kiss to your wrist, just above your pulse point, feeling how rapidly your heart beats.

His eyes don't leave yours. “I'm sorry..” He whispers again, lower this time, trailing small kissing along your arm, those same words leaving his lips in between.

His other hand slips to your waist again, pulling you closer, He cups your face in his hand, threading his fingers through the back of your hair, shutting his eyes, leaning against your forehead.

“Im so fucking sorry.” he breathes out, ghosting over your lips, you tilt your head up slightly, letting your lips graze over his. “Baby..” 

You close the distance between your mouths, lips pressed firmly against his, he pulls you closer, running his fingers through your hair more deeply, his other hand gripping your waist as if you were the only thing grounding him, your lips move together in a rhythm, his tongue runs along your bottom lip, begging for more access, you grant it and he groans into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing.

His tongue explores your mouth, tasting you. He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, “Please..” He begs, looking between both of your eyes, an almost pathetic look on his face.

You tilt your head “Please forgive me, y/n” He brings his hand down from out of your hair, gently rubbing small circles on your neck, tracing his thumb over your exposed collar bone, the touch electric. “I–” 

A sharp knock on the door has you two pulling away from each other like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't.

“Mr. Sim, I just wanted to inform you we have an online meeting with Park Jongseong in five minutes” A shy voice says from the other side, he watches you, the way you stare at your feet, he tries not to smile at your clear nervousness.

“Have the notes ready, let them know I'm coming.” He says, voice back to that professional tone. 

He leans down one more time, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before opening the door to his office and walking down the hall to the meeting room.

Once the door shuts behind him, you bring your hand to your heart, the rapid beating of it pounding against your palm.

You trace your lips with your fingers, still trying to process what just happened, and what's going to happen..

Jake turns the corner of the hallway, to see Sunghoon, leaning against the wall, his eyes trace over Jake's form.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sunghoon says through a knowing smirk, “Dont.” Jake replies, straightening his tie and walking into the meeting room. Sunghoon raises his hands innocently, following after. 

-

As soon as Jake got out of that meeting the first thing he did was pull out his phone, shutting his office door behind him, but pausing to inhale the faint smell of you, your sweet, sweet perfume and hair wash lingering in the air.

“Jaeyun?” His mother says into the phone curiously, “An important event came up, do you mind watching over Layla tonight?” He asks, knowing exactly what the answer will be, if anything he's surprised she didn't beg him to let Layla come over. His parents even have a room specifically for her on the rare occasion she go to their manor. “Yes!” she says eagerly, Jake chuckles, “Alright, I'll drop her off in a few.” He says briefly before hanging up. 

The feeling of his lips still lingered on yours even hours later. The memory of them causing a warm feeling to pool in your belly.

You tried to distract yourself, you really did. But not even working could make you focus. Slipping on your soft robe, you shuffle around your house, eager to take a bath, maybe that would help ease the consistent throbbing in between your legs. 

You were just about to untie it when a ring on your doorbell took you by surprise, you checked the time on your phone, 8:23.. 

You make your way downstairs, opening the door, freezing. “What are you..” You swallow, “What are you doing here?” a nervous excitement slipping through your tone.

Jake takes a step forward, eyes not leaving yours as he shuts the door behind him. “Where's Layla?”

“With my parents.” he replies, eyes trailing down your frame shamelessly, taking in the way your thin robe does nothing to conceal whats underneath. His tongue darts out for a split second, wetting his lips. 

Your eyes fall to his attire, wearing the same dress pants he had on earlier, blazer gone, white button up rolled up his forearms. He chuckles at the way your eyes drag along his arms, bringing your attention back to his face.

“You still didn't answer me.” He tilts his head, studying you. “What are you doing here?” He takes another step forward, crowding you in the entrance of your home.

“You think after what happened today, I was going to just leave you alone?” His eyes drop to your lips. 

“Well– I mean.. I didn't know you were going to just show up..” His eyes fall to the way you nervously play with the end of your robe.

“Mama, of course I did.” he brings his hand down over yours, stilling it so you could stop fidgeting.

“I wanted to see you.” He says confidently. He sighs, defeated, even though you haven't even said anything back. “wanted to touch you.”

His hand comes up, brushing his thumb softly along your cheek, you lean into it. “I want you–” He pauses, breathes–“I want you so bad.”

His eyes search yours before continuing “So bad that I can't fucking concentrate anymore, I can't think straight—“

“The idea of you not wanting me back–not loving me back, makes me sick.” You both freeze at the words, he opens his mouth to speak, closes it.

“I- fuck..” He pulls his hand away from your face, you stop it, placing yours above his. “I want you too, Jake.. I– I love you.” The second the words leave your mouth, something shifts in his face.

His other hand comes up to the other side of your face, holding you like you’re something precious.

“You don't know how long I've wanted- No, I've needed to hear that.” He tilts his head down, lips ghosting over yours, your lips part instantly

“I love you baby.” He whispers before pressing his lips to yours. 

You immediately melt into the kiss, giving him access to your mouth, his hand cups the back of your neck, holding you closer.

He kicks off his shoes, lips never leaving yours, you wrap your arms around his neck as he guides you backwards, you stumble back slightly, his hand immediately wrapping around your waist, you giggle against his mouth, earning a laugh from him. 

You gasp as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his hands splayed on your ass. He makes his way up the stairs with you, carrying you with ease.

His lips crash against yours again, backing you up against the wall, you roll your hips in his hold, grinding against his hardening bulge in his pants.

“Fuck ma—you’re killing me..” He breathes, biting your bottom lip, a whimper escaping your lips at that.

“If I wasnt such a gentlemen, I’d fuck you right here, on your floor.” The dirty words have you grinding harder against him, he chuckles

“You’d like that huh?” You nod, a little bit too frantically, instead he walks further down the hall, in your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him, laying you down on the bed.

“No, I wanna take my time with you.” He presses a light kiss to your lips, savoring your taste. “Jake–please..” It comes out breathless. 

“Please what?” he teases, hand coming up to wrap around your throat, not to hurt you, more to claim.

He trails it back down, to the loosely tied knot of your robe. “Want you to fuck me..” You plead, squirming.

He smiles at that, pulling the string of your robe, causing it to fall open limply, he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of you, laid out for him like this, like his next fucking meal.

He peels it off your body, tossing it to the ground, leaving you bare. “So needy, hm?” He parts your legs, nearly groaning at the sight and smell of your slick pussy.

You whimper at the cold air nipping your skin. He brings his hand down, cupping your breast in his hand, kneading the soft flesh

“I love these tits so fucking much” He says almost to himself, rolling your nipple between his fingers, his other hand comes up, repeating the motion on your other, making sure no part of your body feels neglected.

He bites his lip at the delicious sounds leaving your lips, the pathetic light moans. 

You expect him to undress next, but instead he kneels down, hitting the soft carpet, right between your spread legs, you prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a single moment of seeing him like this.

His eyes close, like he's already gone, licking a sensitive spot on your inner thigh, sucking on it gently, making sure to leave a mark.

Your mouth hangs open, letting soft moans leave your lips, he can't help the smirk that covers his face at how you’re not being shy with him.

He takes his time, leaving marks on your inner thigh, teasing you even more, while also making you even more wet.

His eyes lock on your glistening cunt, “This all for me?” He chuckles, earning a groan from  you, he blows on your puffy clit, enjoying how your hole clenches around nothing, the way you’re already throbbing.

You whine at his teasing, “Shh mama, wanna make you feel good.” He uses his hands, pushing your thighs farther apart, giving him even more access.

Your eyes roll at the first lick, sensual, gathering your juices on his tongue, his eyes flutter shut at the taste of you, how fucking natural it is.

One second its slow licks, the next he's diving in, devouring you. His nose bumping your clit as his tounge works your hole, he looks up at you, your absolutely fucked out face before focusing back on your pussy. Your juices coating the bottom half of his face.

He brings his attention back to your clit, taking the sensitive bud between his lips and sucking with such precision it has your back arching off the bed, hands flying to his hair.

He groans at the feeling of you tugging on the strands, sending a vibration straight to your core. He flicks his tongue on your clit, rolling the sensitive bud with the wet muscle.

bringing one of his hands down from your leg, watching how your pussy reacts as he rubs small circles on your clit.

You watch as he gathers some spit in his mouth, spitting right on your aching clit.

“So pretty,” He says quietly, mixing the spit with your juices leaking out, He pulls you even closer, hands tightening around your thighs, mouth closing around your pussy, making out with it messily.

“Fuck..Jake–” You cry out, gripping the sheets at your sides, He looks up, watching the way your breasts move with each movement, making his cock throb in his pants even more. 

He gives your hole a teasing lick, before plunging his tounge in, greedily fucking it in and out of you, he feels you clench around him. Burying his nose closer against your clit, applying the right pressure that has your hips bucking as you come on his face, you bite down on your lip, trying to conceal the moans leaving your mouth.

He greedily laps up everything you let out, your slick coats his chin, his mouth, the sheets beneath you, but he loves every second of it. 

Your legs fall spread limply, he stands up, unbuttoning his shirt, and his pants, discarding his clothes like they're useless, which in this case–they are.

His eyes are trained on the reddish purple marks coating your inner thighs. “Jake..” You breathe out, watching the thin silver chain glint under the dim light.

He pauses, looking at you curiously, “You still have it?” you point to your neck, and his fingers touch the chain, “I never took it off baby.”

Your mind goes back to when you gave him that necklace, it was when you were pregnant, and you felt like you had to get him something for helping you out so much, even with the arrangement. He had told you he didn't need anything, but you insisted.

He shifts and your attention is immediately back on the present. 

You watch him slide off his boxers, his cock springing out, hanging heavy, thick, veins prominent, similar to the ones coating his hands and forearms.

You let out a sound as your eyes lock on the bead of pre cum leaking out of his flushed pink tip. He leans down, lifting your hips to move you farther up the bed before climbing on top of you.

He strokes his cock, one, twice, the pre cum leaking down his length, Your hips buck up, chasing any form of friction you can.

“Hm, you’re so cute when you’re all needy.” He chuckles, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip, smearing his precum.

“Jake.” You meant for it to come out more firm, but it comes out with a whimper to it. “You want me to stuff you full mama?” He coons, tone playful.

He slaps his dick down once on your puffy folds, before guiding his tip to your entrance. He barely pushes the head of his cock in before letting out a choked groan, “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts, hands clasping around your hips, anchoring him. 

“Breathe for me yeah?” He looks at your face, eyes leaving the delicious sight of you trying to adjust to his size.

You nod, attempting to ease yourself, he slides in some more, your pussy clamping around him tightly, he hisses at the feeling, so warm and wet.

“Loosen up for me mama..” He breathes out, thumb traveling down to apply pressure to your clit, he pushes in slowly, you moan when he bottoms out, his tip nudging that spongey spot inside you. 

It takes everything in him to not come right now, like some fucking teenager.

“Fuck– you’re squeezing me–” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw, before sliding out halfway, setting a slow pace that has his balls tightening.

His lips hover over yours as you both let out pleasureful sounds, “F-faster jake..” You manage to say,

“Knew you were greedy” He smirks, before you can say anything back he crashes his lips onto yours, rolling his hips, thrusting in and out of you, his balls slapping against you at every thrust, the wet sounds filling the room are filthy. 

Your tounges tangle together as he fucks into you, hitting a spot you could never reach with your own fingers.

His other hand comes up to pinch your nipple, earning a shocked gasp from you, You clench around him, hole fluttering, greedily taking his cock, he presses harder on your clit, pinches your nipple, you thrash against him, moaning into his mouth as you reach your second orgasm of the night.

But he doesn't stop, instead he wraps his hand around you pulling you up so you're sitting on his dick facing him, he cups your ass in his hands, grinding you on him, you're pulsing around him, your nerves on fire with every drag of your clit against him.

You’re both slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, he's lost in the feeling of your pussy dragging on him, “You gonna let me fill you up mama?”

He grips your ass harder, delivering a smack, you let out a high pitched sound at that, “God, you would look so pretty–”

He lays you back down on your back, the vision already clear in his mind, you–belly swollen, carrying another one of his children, breasts full, so sensitive– He'd take such good care of you, giving you everything you deserve and more.

“Can I breed this pretty pussy mama? stuff you full?” He fucks into you deeper, your legs lock around him in response, He lets out a sound almost a whimper, arms wrapping around you in a bear hug as his hips move frantically in and out of you, he can feel the pressure building, and by the way you’re fluttering around him again, he knows you’re close too.

“I love you baby– fuck, I love you so much..” He groans into the crook of your neck, your hands claw at his back, grasping on his hair as he buries himself deep inside you, your pussy clamps tight, eyes rolling back as your juices leak out, his cum shoots into you, the warmness pooling in a way that has your legs shaking, He doesn't pull out all the way, but he fucks into you once more, hard, making sure none of his seed leaves your sweet hole. 

You two stay like that, him inside you, hugging you with so much love it makes your heart flutter.

When he pulls out, he falls to your side, pulling you closely to him. You wrap your leg over his hip, and he nuzzles his face in between your breasts, causing a soft laugh to leave your lips.

“I love that sound,” he murmurs, “Hm?” You ask curiously, He lifts his head looking at you with so much adoration “Your laugh.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck before wrapping his hands around your body, embracing you, savoring this moment, because if he could, he'd stay here forever. 

— Bonus —

Jake is half asleep below you, one hand draped on your belly, your 6 month old baby growing healthily inside of you.

You try not to wince at the fabric of your shirt rubbing against your very sore nipples, but you fail miserably.

“Mmm..” He mumbles, feeling your body tense beside him, he opens his eyes slowly, looking up at you.

Worry flashes across his face at your pained state, he sits up immediately, "What's wrong? Are you okay mama?” His hand cups the side of your face, pressing his wrist to your forehead, checking your temperature

“Tell me what you need? Water?” His eyebrows furrow together, he runs a hand through his hair, his body flexing at the movement, you can't help your eyes from dragging down his frame, his bare chest, and his loose hanging sweatpants with no boxers underneath. 

You tug at your shirt, “They hurt Jake–” You breath out, realisation flashes across his face, his eyes falling to your pebbled nipples poking through your shirt.

“Ah..I see,” He swallows, before moving to lift your shirt over your head, the fabric dragging along your breasts making you wince.

He tosses the shirt on the bed, memorized with how full your breasts are, how hard your nipples get, he cant help himself when his hands come up, weighing them.

“Fuck–you’re so beautiful,” His fingers graze over your nipples, making the already damp spot in your panties grow, You whimper at the touch “So sensitive baby..” He dips his head, tongue grazing lightly over the peak.

You let out a sharp moan at the feeling, the pleasure overtaking you. He watches your face, his tongue flicking over the bud before lifting his fingers, he presses them on your lip, your mouth opening on instinct, you wrap your lips around his fingers, wetting them, he pulls them out, circling your other nipple with them, spreading your saliva on it.

“So warm, and soft..” He massages one with his hand, it helps ease the tension, making your body relax more into his touch, he presses his nose against your breast gently, your warm skin making the bulge in his sweatpants strain even more.

His hand inches down, past your belly, dipping between your spread thighs, His mouth freezes over your nipple at the wetness already soaked through your loose shorts.

“Shit, you’re dripping–” He moves the shorts to the side along with your underwear, dragging two fingers through your wetness, making a soft gasp leave your lips

“M’ gonna make you feel good” He whispers, before both of his fingers slip inside of you, curling immediately.

The sounds coming from between your legs are so lewd, wet squelching every time he takes his fingers out, just to shove them back in, his palm grinding against your swollen clit as he hits that spongey spot deep inside you.

“Jake–ah..” You breath out, hands lifting to grasp his veiny arm, it's all so sudden, the way you clamp down on his fingers, the juices that flood out of your pussy soaking the sheets, He drags his fingers out, rubbing your sensitive clit with the two, spreading your slick all over.

“God– you’re pretty when you come on my fingers like that..” He brings the two digits to his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes not leaving yours, your mouth hangs open as he does so.

He glances down at your lips, plump from the biting you’ve been doing, before closing the distance, letting you taste your musky sweetness on his tongue that he loves so much.

You don't register it, but his hand inches back down your body, rubbing your pussy slowly, before he shoves three digits inside of you, your nails dig into his forearm at the stretch, gasping into his mouth

“Oh my gosh–” You moan out, his fingers repeating the curling motion, “Shh.. let me make you feel good.” He whispers, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you just right, his tongue flicks just under your ear, spiking your sensitivity even more.

A warm gush of liquid coats his hand, your eyes flutter shut as you squirt on his fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you even more.

He curls his fingers deeper, letting as much as he can seep out, the wetness coating your inner thighs gradually. He kisses your lips once more, before pulling his fingers out slowly, admiring the way they shine under the faint morning sunlight. His palm slaps against your sensitive pussy lightly in a teasing manner.

"I'm going to get the bath ready, we still have some time before I take Lay to school.” he kisses your cheek softly, standing up, bulge evidently clear in his sweatpants. “But what about–”

“Mama, I said to let me make you feel good, we can worry about this later, Okay?” He walks around the bed, opening the door to your shared bathroom.

Jake insisted on you relaxing in the bath, while he gently rubbed your skin with your vanilla soap, but you had other plans, sneakily reaching behind you to stroke his aching cock until the only thing he could focus on was how good your hand felt around him while moaning softly into your neck.

After the bath he helped you get dressed, helped you down the stairs, making sure to set up the pillows so you were well supported before waking Layla up.

Once she was all dressed for school, her 2nd week of being a Kindergartner, she came running up to you, careful to not press against your baby bump.

“Mommy!” She smiles, you look at Jake's attempt of pigtails before chuckling, Layla reaches her small hand out, touching your stomach gently, as if she was petting a small puppy.

“You look pretty Lay,” She giggles, Jake walks back over,  bowl of strawberries in hand with nutella drizzled on top, a craving he knows you love.

He presses a light kiss to your forehead before handing Layla her sparkly pink backpack. “Ready princess?” He asks, looking down at Layla, she nods, skipping past him, you and Jake both laugh at her eagerness. 

“Ill be back in a bit” he says, pressing another kiss, this time to your covered baby bump, you can't help the blush that coats your face as he gives you that boyish smile.

Even when they both leave, shutting the door behind him, the warmness stays in your heart, Because this is even better than your dreams. 

-

Yeah so I need Jake asap.

okay hope you guys enjoyed!

peep the Sunghoon plot building.. (hoping to start writing it soon after i finish some of my other wips👀)

taglist: @yufawnz @saeivra @rianzysworld @ilobhee @lessamee @isa942572 @only4mylove @lecfosicentral @vanash @chyssly @luucortis @reneleaily @jazeertt @motherscrustytoenailclippings @easyhyunho @woninlove @starry-eyed-bimbo @kitkat1sstuff @abysofsteel @softblaqn @sweetxpeach1 @enhaholicfan @guliexe @heeheehee-hoe @hearts4julie @tzyusyaoon @dollhoonie @angeliykyk @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @ellieaybby @gownluvr @ellielovesikeu @heeverseblog @3nhyxx @supahintohoon @cloud-lyy @pqrkjyx @v3lv3t-th1rst @fancypeacepersona @ily4hoonity @saamaoaiwyq @angelcakesunoo @hoonki1009 @enhypenglazer1234 @xoxoamadeo @irisvrse @cutehoons02 @maeviees @bbunnii @lawjakesim

[selestiyara]

Jake fucks you hard after not seeing you for months on due to tour ‹𝟹

[kiachiako]

FICRECS ✦ ENHYPEN 엔하이픈

── kiachiako ⨾ a personal library of favorites

NOTE. a deep & well-loved archive/collection of fics i've enjoyed! all of these are by immensely talented writers, and i absolutely cannot commend them enough. showering these enha authors with infinite adoration & praise rn, hope you enjoy them as much as i did ‪‪❤︎‬ [sorted by word count]

oneshots.

SUNGHOON | the way i loved you | @thatfeelinwhenyou 44k — Years after a quiet, painful breakup, you are assigned to write a profile on South Korea’s most elusive figure skater, Park Sunghoon, who just so happens to be your ex-boyfriend. What was supposed to be a byline quickly spirals into a collision of unresolved feelings, buried emotions that are edging too close to the surface, and the slow thaw between two people who once meant the world to each other. With every step you take back into his orbit, the line between story and truth begins to blur—and the version of him you thought you knew starts to unravel.

[m] JAY | mr. and mrs. smith | @swiftjay23 35k — Your marriage to Jay was already hanging by a thread, cold silences, dead love, secrets thick enough to choke on. But everything shatters the night you discover the truth: you’re assassins on opposite sides, and your entire relationship was engineered to end with one of you dead. When a mission goes sideways and Jay collapses bleeding in your arms, the two of you are forced into a feral, desperate partnership to outrun the kill orders now targeting you both. What follows is pure chaos: rooftop fights, a mini-heist gone wrong, explosions, marriage counseling sessions that definitely weren’t meant for combat couples, and the kind of chemistry that only hits when hatred and love coexist in the same breath. Trust breaks. Trust rebuilds. Guns misfire. Hearts don’t.

[m] HEESEUNG | girlfriend simulator | @heejamas 37k — when heeseung agrees to test jungwon’s new dating sim game, girlfriend simulator, he expects a dumb, half finished game, until he boots it up on his switch, the screen glitches, and he’s dragged straight into the world he just created. the “girlfriend” character, you, isn’t scripted at all; and heeseung has to figure out how to get out while accidentally developing feelings for a girl who inconveniently does not exist in real life.

[m] JAKE | things i know that i can't have | @zreamy 33.6k — jake's life was hard enough before he fell for you—balancing uni, football, and being a good christian son. in some cruel twist of fate, sleeping with you has only made things harder—and, according to sunghoon (and scripture), damned him to hell the first time he thought about it.

[m] JAY | walk the line | @paarksunghoon 33.1k — park jongseong has one regret and he's spent his entire life atoning for the pain he caused you. when you walk into office under the premise of working together, he's only got one shot to make things right before it's too late.

[m] SUNGHOON | rocket science | @heesmiles 33k — You’ve always been the girl everyone knows: sharp-witted, magnetic, the kind of pretty that makes people turn their heads. By day, you’re just another college student with a popular face and a spotless reputation. By night, you’re something far less innocent, an anonymous camgirl, raking in tips from strangers who only know your voice, your body, and the way you make them feel. It was never personal, until it was. When Sunghoon — Heeseung’s nerdy, painfully shy roommate. You’ve barely spoken beyond polite small talk, he’s the kind of guy who still blushes when someone brushes past him. Or at least… you thought so. Until one late night, you hear something you shouldn’t: your own voice spilling from behind Sunghoon’s bedroom door. He doesn’t know you’re still in the apartment. He doesn’t know you can hear him or that you’re about to walk in and catch him in the act. And he definitely doesn’t know the girl on his screen, the camgirl he’s been tipping more than anyone else: is you. So naturally you agree to teach him: it's not like it's rocket science or anything.

[m] HEESEUNG | player rank: platinum | @simpjaes 30k — You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 

[m] NI-KI | yes, professor | @kissued 29.5k — an upcoming anatomy final leaves you teetering on the edge of exhaustion, buried under stress and self-doubt. but when professor nishimura offers a steady, guiding hand, the pressure starts to lift — and suddenly, the lines between mentorship and something more begin to blur.

JAKE | strikes out | @enhaflixer 23.5k — Five years ago, Jake Sim walked away to chase his soccer dreams, never knowing he left more than just a broken heart behind. Now, he-s back—unwittingly running a soccer clinic where his five-year-old daughter is signed up. The daughter he doesn't know exists.

SUNGHOON | the red knight | @twocupsofsuga 22k — When a notorious nomad tribe dared to strike your kingdom, your parents responded by assigning you a protector—the kingdom’s most disciplined, unyielding knight. He made it painfully clear that his oath to guard you outweighed your protests, your stubbornness, and your every attempt to slip past him. Yet lately, the man who once felt carved from stone seems to unravel in your presence. And nothing in his contract mentioned losing his composure for you.

[m] JAKE | user error | @gyuuberryy 21.8k — getting partnered with jake, the tall awkward nerd from on of your computer science classes, should've been simple—work on the project, get your grade, move on. except now you're completely obsessed with him and he's totally clueless about it. between tutoring sessions you definitely don't need and "coincidental" dorm hall run-ins, you're pulling out all the stops. too bad jake's more interested in his textbooks than your very obvious flirting. you've never been rejected before, so this should be fine. …right?

[m] SUNGHOON | your eyes only | @m-hypen 21.8k — Enemies to Lovers | Camboy!Sunghoon x Reader

JUNGWON | secrets | @theothernads 21k — After making it to university, you found yourself finding comfort in a cat café worker not too far from your lectures. The cute worker seemed to have a knack for making you fall for his charm. And, how could you not? Your chemistry was perfect- but you never thought that he had secrets and that Jungwon was your secret as well. As much as you two tried to keep everything behind the scenes, things don’t always work out the way they should.

[m] HEESEUNG | waiting room | @heejamas 21k — for three years, you and heeseung have hovered between friendship and something more—stolen glances, late-night car rides, hands brushing under tables. but when the waiting finally ends, you realize you were never just friends to begin with.

JAY | just like heaven | @heejamas 21k — you never planned to fall for your brother’s best friend, jay. but the summer before college, on 1989, something shifts—between mixtapes, quiet drives, and the kind of closeness that sneaks up on you. and after a few cassette tapes and long drives, the love you never planned for starts happening.

[m] SUNGHOON | a con for a heart | @faeyun 19.4k — when an elusive man known as “the curator” hires you under his organization of con artists, you know it’s for more than just your skill set. you accept his offer with motives on your own—find out just what his name is and expose it to his enemies to put yourself on top of the chain. but, as the two of you play a game of cat and mouse, you realize that that’s much easier said than done.

[m] HEESEUNG | one hundred and one | @heesdreamer 19k — returning back home from a failed year at college, you’re reunited with your little brothers best friend who always had a crush on you. this definitely hasn’t changed, but he sure has.

[m] SUNGHOON | honey on ice | @liuhsng 18.4k — you were supposed to save his daughter from loneliness—not him. park sunghoon has it all: medals, money, and a schedule too packed for bedtime stories. when his little girl starts closing off, he hires you—a broke college student with a bright laugh and quiet charm—as her nanny. you’re warm, young, and everything his cold, controlled world isn’t. or where saving him was never in the job description—but you did it anyway.

[m] JAKE | scene one | @rikiliu 17.8k — Working solo in adult content was easy — no crew, no co-stars, no one watching while you filmed. But after signing with the biggest studio in the industry, everything changes. New rules. New cameras. New people. Including Jake — your first scene partner — who just happened to catch every second of your audition tape… and hasn’t stopped looking since.

[m] JAKE | bruises | @dazzlingjaeyun 17.3k — engineering major!jake x nursing student fem!reader

[m] SUNGHOON | bite me | @babyjinsu 17k — a young wife discovers her husband's secret—a bloodied creature chained beneath floorboards. drawn by pity and curiousity, she visits him in secret when her husband falls asleep. but mercy has its price, and hunger always finds a way to bite back—the neck that feeds.

[m] JAKE | the pushover | @jaysbaefie 16.5k — in which jake sim finally stops letting you run the show—only to prove he’s always known how to handle you.

JAKE | love, lies, and sim jake | @shy9-29 16.4k — You were the quiet girl with the not-so-quiet crush on Jake Sim—campus heartbreaker, smooth talker, and everything you should’ve stayed away from. But when a bet turns your name into a game, the rules change fast. He didn’t expect to fall for you… and you didn’t expect to find out. Now it’s your move—and this time, you’re not playing nice.

[m] JAKE | cunnilinguist | @simpjaes 16.1k — Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

JAY | sugar in the soil | @liuhsng 16k — your fascination with flowers was a quiet love you turned into your future. majoring in biology at decelis university, you often found yourself needing rare blooms, fresh clippings, or just the scent of something calming after long hours in the lab. that’s why the little flower shop down the street became your second home. the staff knew your name. mrs. park always had tea ready. until one afternoon, the usual calm was replaced with someone entirely unexpected—park jongseong, of all people. golden boy. heir to a business empire. the last person you'd expect to be arranging sunflowers behind the counter like he belonged there. or, where your love for flowers leads you to someone who’s far more than just his reputation.

[m] HEESEUNG | rage quit | @guliexe 15.9k — gamer!au, you started as friends who played games at night—now he’s the one making you moan into his pillow.

[m] JAY | losing the war | @babeyun 15k — regency!au, even when the world seems bleak, he can't help but try and prove that love still exists. the love you yearn for exists, because he is full of it - and so are you.

[m] HEESEUNG | beautiful strangers | @si3rren 15k — The world ended in shades of purple. An aurora called the Violet Hour swallowed the sky and never left. In its ruins, you and Lee Heeseung begin as strangers—until survival turns into something softer, and holding each other becomes the last beautiful thing left.

JAY | notoriously yours | @jakesimfromstatefarm 14.7k — jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally. so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)? and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

SUNGHOON | ancient dreams | @stllmnstr 14.3k — vampire hunter reader x vampire sunghoon, enemies to lovers, angst, fantasy/sci-fi

[m] HEESEUNG | adonis | @velvetdolor 14k — You’re a prolific photographer, renowned for your unconventional devotion to your craft. Enter Lee Heeseung—top model, golden boy, and muse extraordinaire. When you discover a leaked tabloid photo of him in bondage, you arrange a meeting and make your offer: become your muse, and in return, you’ll pave the way for his redemption after a career-shattering scandal. The unexpected follows—an intense entanglement and obsession to photograph your muse who serves every whim of yours, offering his unrelenting submission. Yet beneath Heeseung’s charismatic persona and dangerously alluring beauty lurks an unsettling darkness: a possessiveness with a taste for murder and destruction.

[m] HEESEUNG | reflexion | @lassiie 14k — The three of you always had a strange relationship. Heesu, the wallflower twin, loves you in secret when you are in Heeseung's palm, stuck in a one-sided love. But when his twin dies and Heeseung grows closer, his smile, his words, and even his touch starts to feel like someone else's—like the dead twin is slipping through him... or worse.

[m] HEESEUNG | like an angel | @bambidollies 13.8k — In which Heeseung is obsessed with his sweet, innocent, shy sister’s best friend, and not in a healthy way.

JAKE | auld lang syne | @heethera 13k — you ask jake to teach you how to flirt so jay will notice you. he says yes...despite having a 10 year crush on you.

NI-KI | everybody loves jungwon | @heethera 13k — ni-ki likes his best friend. but sunoo thinks he likes self-sabotaging himself more.

JUNGWON | sure thing | @stllmnstr 12.9k — coworkers au, underground boxer jungwon

[m] JUNGWON | sweet talk | @enhaflixer 12k — You’re used to observing Yang Jungwon from a distance. Campus golden boy, dance department star, the kind of person you warn your podcast listeners about—the ones that are too charming, too smooth, too easy to love. But then he starts looking back. Smiling at you across coffee shops. Sitting next to you in lectures. Texting you late at night. Before you know it, you’re in a relationship that feels too good to be true. And that’s because it is. He was supposed to make you fall for him. And he did. The problem? He fell too. (But love doesn’t erase betrayal, does it?)

[m] JAKE | deal with it | @m-hypen 12k — Your best friend, Jake, gets frustrated by your cockblocking and has you make up for it.

[m] NI-KI | every inch | @liuhsng 10.4k — ni-ki isn’t the type to dwell on annoyances. he fixes the problem, gets the job done, and moves on. but when you ask him to come over to help with a project you can barely finish—your deadline bleeding closer by the hour—while talking his ear off about your mutual friends, something ugly and possessive finally claws its way to the surface. maybe it isn’t annoyance at all. maybe it’s the last push he needs to stop holding back.

[m] SUNGHOON | love is cannibalism | @mssishipi 10k — “To love,” they said, “is to consume.”

[m] SUNGHOON | save a horse, ride a cowboy | @hoonkitti 10k — what's better than riding a big horse? ride the owner, and his bigger horse!

[m] NI-KI | fallen angel | @guliexe 9.1k — you were his softest secret in a world full of violence. and even bleeding out, he still only wanted to hold you.

[m] JAKE | shoreline | @guliexe 8.8k — surfer!au, you've loved jake for years, but he's never looked at you the way you wish he would. one summer night, he finally does, and everything changes.

JAY | the prince of polo | @khioneee 8.5k — after a fall in the field, his polo career is at risk. you're the sports therapist assigned to his recovery.

[m] JUNGWON | needy | @jaysbaefie 8.4k — in which jungwon gets too drunk, too honest, and far too handsy, and somewhere between the pulled-over car and the way he begs for you, everything you thought you knew starts to snap.

SUNGHOON | right next door! | @gyuuberryy 8.1k — you and park sunghoon have been tangled in hogwarts' most explosive rivalry since fifth year—all duels in corridors and sabotaged potions and lingering stares across the great hall. now in your last year, you're forced to share prefect duties, and between his infuriating teasing and surprisingly caring moments, you can't decide if you want to hex him or kiss him. but when old wounds resurface and the line between rivalry and something else blurs, you'll have to confront why his attention still makes your pulse race—and whether some bridges are better left burned.

[m] JUNGWON | intact | @dollhoonki 7.8k — yours and jungwon's union is pre-destined, foretold by the founding fathers of your commune. despite your initial hesitations towards him, you learn to love him, as he embraces you - in more ways than one. with your wedding approaching soon and the departure of your best friend, your mind is a mess. with one decision you make costing you that destiny, it's up to jungwon to do whatever it takes to keep it intact - even if that means revealing skeletons buried deep inside of your mind.

[m] JAKE | dancing with our hands tied | @ikeukiss 7.7k — What began as a simple friends-with-benefits situation with your brother's best friend has turned into something deeper, and you now find that your emotions are more complicated than you initially thought.

[m] JAY + SUNGHOON | friends to worry about | @intromortal 7.3k — heeseung hasn't been the best boyfriend, and the further apart you two grow, the closer you get to his best friends. all you need is for him to slip up one last time to finally make your fantasies come true.

[m] HEESEUNG | dirty little secret | @sincerelyneo 7k — Hooking up with the hot soccer player who doesn’t believe in labels (and just so happens to be your brother’s best friend) obviously had to stay a secret.  His rules, not yours. And it’s easy…until Heeseung starts acting like any other guy who so much as looks at you is a problem. Because apparently, he doesn’t do labels. But he does do jealousy.

[m] SUNOO | the best friend syndrome | @si3rren 7k — you always thought sunoo was off-limits—sweet, soft, possibly into guys. you undressed in front of him, slept beside him, teased him without shame. but the moment jealousy breaks him, you realize he’s not safe. he’s obsessed. and he’s been waiting to take you for years.

[m] JAKE | the giver | @sincerelyneo 6.5k — Something doesn’t sit right when Jake hears his childhood best friend’s back in town. It’s worse when he finds out your city-boy boyfriend dumped you. But what really sends him over the edge is learning that the asshole never got you off once during your entire relationship. And as a self-proclaimed giver… Jake’s pretty damn set on fixing that himself.

[m] JAY | backseat | @jaysbaefie 6.2k — in which your older brothers best friend finally stops teasing you and shows you just how much he wants you.

[m] JUNGWON + JAKE | final girl | @xoseong 5.7k — When you agreed to cleaning up the aftermath Halloween night left on Moonstruck Theater, you expected a calm shift with little distractions. But that all changes when a mysterious car pulls into the parking lot, and suddenly you don’t feel so calm anymore.

[m] JUNGWON | the one he waited for | @cbeargyu 5.3k — when you’re finally forced to confront the simmering attraction between you and jungwon, your brother’s best friend, the result is unexpected. one late-night encounter, charged with tension, ends up crossing a line neither of you thought you’d dare. what started as a playful game turns into something deeper and more intense, and now there’s no going back.

JAKE | way back home | @sjyuns 5.1k — breaking news! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark? or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.

[m] JAKE | no doubt | @vampelic 5k — jake having an awful reputation with being head over heels.

JUNGWON | breakaway | @wispyn 5k — you’re a sweetheart, which makes you the most popular girl in school. and that has perks, being with the most popular guy in school. what was once a beautiful relationship, suddenly turned toxic and abusive. as a final senior project, you’re partnered up with the one and only—yang jungwon. the nerdiest yet sweetest boy. and the more you hang out with him, the more your heart suddenly heals.

[m] HEESEUNG | the color violet | @velvetdolor 4k — You’ve always liked that Heeseung is cool and calculated—easy, uncomplicated. He’s the ex you can still run to, the Casanova who somehow never held a grudge after you left him the moment things got too serious, too close for comfort. But on an unsuspecting night, you slip back into his life with your usual storm of chaos—crocodile tears, mascara running—and something in his composure finally cracks. In the violet haze of the party, two avoidant storms collide, and the night confesses everything left unsaid.

JUNGWON | hesitation | pt. 2 | @stllmnstr 3.7k — university au, reader is three years older than jungwon

SUNGHOON | drabble | @babyjinsu 3.4k — 90s couple and their toxic arguments

HEESEUNG | fiend | @sa1co 2.8k — Heeseung may be addicted to the drugs, but you're addicted to him in a way that'll probably kill you too.

SUNGHOON | pink white lilies | @hoonkitti 2.5k — you were born into silk and scandal. sunghoon wasn't born to be noticed at all.

[m] JAKE | leave me wanting | @elikajinnie ??k — The tension with Jake has been building for months. You try to ignore it, to play it safe. But when another ruined date ends in a heated confrontation, the truth slips out and so do his hands. One kiss, and suddenly, pretending you don’t want him isn’t an option anymore.

[m] JUNGWON | a crown between us | @wonsiwon ??k — in the halls of the palace, where secrets are dressed in silk and love is the greatest betrayal, a maid finds herself caught in a dangerous entanglement with the crown prince, jungwon. though bound by duty and royalty, their stolen glances and whispered promises bloom into something neither can escape. but when the queen announces his arranged marriage, everything shatters.

[m] HYUNG LINE | drabble | @drunkhazed-archive

[m] JUNGWON | heartbeat | @s4ilorrr — You only signed up for biology because you thought it’d be an easy A. You didn’t expect Jungwon, your too perfect for his own good lab partner, to turn a simple heart rate experiment into something you’ll be thinking about long after the monitor stops beeping.

[m] JAKE | puppy princess | @bambiihee — jake agrees to watch heeseung's puppy hybrid while he's away.

JAKE | drabble | @xoami — In which, Jake is down bad for his older classmate, and it becomes almost too much.

series'.

[m] SUNGHOON | teeth | @romancentold — 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆—𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖼𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝖽𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾? 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾.

JUNGWON | safe and sound | @thatfeelinwhenyou — Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

JAKE | the law of unintended consequences | @chogiwow — astrophysicist!jake x assistant!reader; posits that actions often have unforeseen and unanticipated effects, which may be positive, negative, or neutral, that are not part of the actor's original intent.

[m] SUNGHOON | my baby is a bird | @paarksunghoon — Is three years enough time to heal and move on? Just when you think you’ve got your life figured out, Sunghoon comes barging in and disrupting the peace you’ve built for yourself in the name of fixing his mistakes. It stirs up old feelings and dangerous habits, but Sunghoon is determined to show you that you’re the only one for him, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you love him again.

[m] JAKE | tell me lies | @baekguwu — Keeping Jake Sim off-limits should’ve been easy. He was your twin’s best friend, the one line you swore you’d never cross. But one reckless night was all it took to ruin that promise, and now you’re trapped in a secret you don’t want to quit. Worse? Your big and one of your closest friends has been obsessed with Jake for years, and as far as everyone else knows, she’s the only one who’s ever had a real shot with him. So you lie to everyone, over and over, and find that the deeper you sink, the easier it feels because maybe the truth is uglier than you’ll ever admit. 

[m] JAKE | nicest guy | @heejamas — SMAU; you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically.

-

+ shamelessly, a lil smth smth I wrote... just in case you have more time to kill o.o SUNGHOON | as far and close as here | 21.3k — you meet sunghoon at twelve, fall in love with him at thirteen, and get your heart broken at eighteen. a collection of summer vignettes, some growing up with him as your lover and some without. you never expected that years later, you would be forced to look him in the eye as he recounts what his life has been like without you. [in otherwords] a story about piecing together what it means to love someone who left, and learning that fate has a funny way of bringing people back together again.

xx kiachiako <3

[jaehyp]

𝖭𝖮𝖮𝖭𝖠'𝖲 𝖡𝖮𝖸 ─ 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗃𝗒.

! pairing: idol bf jake x idol gf reader

!! synopsis: backstage your "best friend" has a habit of letting you have your way with him. tonight, he's not leaving until you admit how much you love it when he calls you noona even if he has to beg.

!! warnings: smut (mdni), sub jake who's pussy drunk, dom reader, 69, piv, spit kink, overstimulation, tit play, degrading, multiple orgasims, jake got a noona kink, reader is a couple months older, js straight filth

!! wc: 3k

!! a/n: i will never ever get tired of writing sub jake anyways ty for the request i honestly wouldn't have thought of such a delicious idea, hope u likey

The show ended an hour ago. The crowd had faded into the quiet hum of staff packing up equipment, and members trickling out to vans. You should be in your own dressing room wiping off stage makeup and heading home like everyone else.

Instead, you're here. Door locked, the muffled sounds of the outside world barely registering.

Jake is sitting in the worn armchair in the corner of his dressing room. Legs spread, shirt half unbuttoned, watching you with that look he gets when you're alone.

He didn't put himself in that chair. You did. You pushed him down into it the second the lock clicked, and he went without resistance, because that's who he is with you. Eager and desperate to please.

You're straddling him now, knees on either side of his thighs, the thin fabric of your stage skirt riding up your legs. His hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles through the material, but he's not gripping. Not guiding. He's waiting. He always waits for you.

"You're staring," you murmur, looping your arms around his neck.

"Can you blame me?" His voice is low, a little breathless. "You looked so good on stage tonight, noona."

There it is. That word. Delivered with a smile that's just shy of teasing, eyes glittering with amusement. He knows exactly what he's doing.

You roll your eyes. "Don't start."

"Start what?" His thumbs press a little deeper into your hips, while giving you puppy eyes. "I'm just complimenting you. You're older, you're wiser, you're sooo experienced. I should respect you."

"You're mocking me."

"I would never." He leans forward, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw. "Respect your elders, right, noona?"

Your fingers tighten in his hair. You should correct him. But his mouth is trailing down your neck now, soft and warm, and he's still murmuring that word against your skin like a prayer.

Noona. Noona. Noona.

"You're insufferable," you manage, but your voice comes out shakier than you intended.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and that teasing glint is still there, but underneath it is something hungrier. "You love it."

"I hate it."

"Liar." He nips at your bottom lip. "You get so wet every time I say it. I can feel you through your panties, noona."

Heat floods your cheeks. He's right. You hate how much you love it, hate the way your body reacts every single time that word leaves his mouth. But you'll never admit it. Not to him.

"You're so full of yourself."

"Stop acting like you don’t love it." His hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. You can feel how hard he is through his pants, and the contact makes you both gasp. "See? You can't even pretend anymore."

"Shut up, Jake."

You crash your mouth against his, kissing him hard and deep, and he groans into it like he's been waiting. His tongue slides against yours, messy and desperate, and his hands roam your body like he's trying to memorize every curve. He's always like this sweet and obedient until you give him an inch, and then he's everywhere.

But you're still in control. You pull back first, leaving him chasing your lips with a whine.

"Take off your pants," you say.

He scrambles to obey, lifting his hips to shove his pants down his thighs, boxers following. His cock springs free, flushed and leaking, and you watch him squirm under your gaze.

"You're staring," he says mimicking you from earlier with a shaky laugh in his voice.

"Can you blame me?" You reach down and wrap your hand around him, watching his head fall back against the chair. "You're so pretty like this, Jake. All desperate and whiny."

"I'm not whiny-"

You squeeze gently. He whines.

"Not whiny at all," you agree, smiling. "You're gonna listen to what I say right?"

He nods, eyes blown wide.

You shift off his lap, only to reposition each other on a nearby couch. You climb over him again, swinging your leg over his head until you're facing his lower body and straddling his face. He gets the idea immediately. His hands grab your thighs, pulling you down until your center hovers just above his mouth.

"Wait," you say, and he freezes.

You lean forward, lowering yourself until your mouth is level with his cock. When your breath hits his skin he shudders beneath you.

"You eat me out. I'll suck you off. And if you're good-" you drag your tongue up the length of him just once, just enough to make him whimper " maybe I'll let you cum."

"Fuck," he breathes. "Noona, you're going to kill me."

"Probably." You wrap your lips around the tip and suck gently. "Now shut up and get to work."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

His mouth finds you immediately, tongue parting your folds with an eagerness that makes your hips buck forward. He's messy about it he always has been, too hungry to be neat but he knows exactly where to put his tongue. He laps at your clit in broad strokes, then sucks gently, then does it again, and you have to pull off his cock just to gasp for air.

"Fuck, Jakey-"

He hums against you in response, the vibration shooting up your spine, and you can feel him smiling. That smug little shit.

You retaliate by taking him deeper, swallowing him down until your nose presses against his pelvis. He chokes on a moan, his hips jerking up, and his rhythm falters for just a second before he doubles down.

But then he pauses. His mouth leaves you, and you feel his breath hot against your inner thigh.

"You know what would make this better?" he asks, voice thick.

You lift your head just enough to glare at him over your shoulder. "If you stopped talking?"

"If you admitted you love when I call you noona." You can hear the grin in his voice. "Say it. Just once. 'Jake, I love when you call me noona.'"

"I will bite you."

"That's not a no."

You drop your head back down and take him in your mouth again, hoping to shut him up. He groans, hips stuttering, but he's not done.

"That's not how this works, noona," he says, and the word is muffled because he's burying his face back between your legs, but you still hear it.

His tongue finds your clit again, and this time he's relentless fast and firm and exactly how you like it. Your legs start to shake. Your mouth goes slack around his cock.

"There she is," he murmurs against you. "There's my good girl. You gonna cum for me, noona? Gonna soak my face and pretend you hate me?"

You want to tell him to shut up. You want to pull his hair and remind him who's in charge. But you're so close, so fucking close, and his tongue is doing that thing and his hands are gripping your thighs so tight they'll bruise and he's still saying it, noona noona noona like a fucking mantra.

You cum with his name on your tongue, except it comes out wrong, comes out shaky and desperate and exactly what he wanted to hear.

He moans against you through it, drinking you down, and when you finally go limp above him he pulls his mouth away just long enough to say, "See? I knew you loved it."

You hate him. You hate him so much.

But he's still hard and leaking against your lips, and you took it upon yourself to finish what you started.

You crawl off him and he sits up. Both of you are a mess. His hair is sticking up in twenty directions. His chest is covered in sweat and spit. His eyes are glazed over, lips swollen, cheeks flushed.

You're not much better.

But you're also not done with him.

You settle back between his thighs, fingers tracing lazily along his hip, feeling the way his muscles jump under your touch. He's watching you with those desperate hazy eyes, already trembling again just from the anticipation.

You don't say anything. You just look at him really look at him and let the silence stretch until he can't take it anymore.

"Noona?" His voice cracks. It's small. Fragile. Nothing like the teasing tone from earlier. His lower lip trembles and his eyes are glassy, wet at the corners. He's holding back tears. "Noona, did I- did I not do good?"

Your heart falters.

"I did everything you said," he continues, voice wobbling. "I was good. I didn't complain. I let you- I let you do whatever you wanted. You said if I was good I could-" He stops, swallows hard, and a single tear slips down his cheek. "You said I could cum, noona. You promised."

He's whining now, high and desperate, hips twitching like he can't help chasing friction. His cock is still hard, flushed red, leaking against his stomach. He looks wrecked. Completely wrecked.

"Please," he whispers. "Please, noona. I'll be better. I'll be so much better. Just tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it. I'll do anything. Just please don't- don't leave me like this."

His hands reach for you but stop halfway, remembering he's not allowed to touch without permission. Instead they fall back against the couch, fingers curling into the fabric like he needs something to hold onto.

"Did I not make you feel good?" His voice breaks on the last word. "I thought- I thought made you feel good. You made a mess all over me and you kept saying my name and I thought you were happy. I thought I was doing good."

Another tear falls. Then another.

He's not even trying to hide it anymore.

Your thumbs brush away his tears, slow and gentle, as you lean in until your forehead touches his.

"Hey," you whisper. "Hey, look at me."

His glassy eyes meet yours, wet and scared and so vulnerable it makes your chest ache.

"You did so good," you say softly, firmly, like you need him to hear it and understand. "So fucking good, Jake."

He sniffles, lower lip still trembling. "But I-"

"Shhh." You shake your head, thumbs still stroking his cheekbones. "You were perfect. You did everything I asked. You let me have you however I wanted. You're being good I like it a lot."

A shaky breath escapes him.

"I'm not leaving you like anything," you continue, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm right here. I've got you. You're my good boy, okay? My good, pretty boy who did everything right."

He blinks, more tears spilling over. "Then why did you stop?"

You smile softly, kissing the other corner of his mouth. "Because I wanted to look at you. Because you're perfect everything about you is and I wanted to remember every second of it."

A broken sound leaves his throat.

"You want to cum, baby?" you ask, lips brushing against his.

He nods frantically, hands still fisted in the couch fabric, still obeying even now. "Please, noona. Please im so needy for you, just wanna feel you."

"You will," you promise, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.

He gets shy at the thought of it and tries to hide his smile.

"That's my boy," you whisper, and you lean down to kiss him soft and slow and full of everything you can't say. He melts into it, tears wet against your cheeks, and when you finally pull away, his eyes are still glassy but the panic is gone.

He doesn't hesitate. "I need you so bad. I've been thinking about you all day. All week. Every time I see you I just want to -" He cuts himself off with a shuddering breath as you squeeze gently.

"You just want to what?"

"I want to be inside you," he admits, voice barely above a whisper. "I want- I want to make you feel good too. I want to make you cum so hard you forget your own name. Please, noona. Please let me."

You hold his wrists against the back of the couch. His hips buck up involuntarily, grinding against you and it's a mess. His leaking pre cum mixes with yours, both of you still slick and sticky from before, Jake's own spit still wet on your skin. The slide is filthy, and you can feel him growing hard again beneath you, pressing between your swollen folds.

You roll your hips slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes, noona it feels so fucking good," he gasps. "Noona, please-"

You keep moving, slow and torturous, and his eyes roll back. His fingers curl into fists above his head but he doesn't lower them, doesn't try to touch you. He's being so good. So obedient.

"You're going to cum like this just from a little grinding," you tell him. "Like a teenage boy. And you're going to thank me for it."

He moans, loud, and you press your hand over his mouth.

"Quiet. Someone could hear."

His eyes widen. His hips stutter. The thought of getting caught, of someone walking past and hearing him fall apart for you it pushes him closer. You can feel it in the way his body tenses, the way his breathing goes ragged against your palm.

"Imagine if a staff member walked in right now," you whisper in his ear. "Imagine if they saw you like this. Their precious Jake. Begging. Whining. About to cum because his noona told him to."

Thats all it takes.

His whole body goes rigid, his mouth opening in a silent cry against your hand, his hips jerking up into you as he spills in the space between the both of you. You watch his face the whole time, drinking in every expression, every twitch, every broken sound he can't quite hold back.

When it's over, he slumps against the couch out of breath, wrists going limp in your grip. His face is flushed, his eyes are wet, and he looks completely wrecked.

Beautiful.

You release his wrists and cup his face in both hands, tilting his head up.

"You did so good," you murmur. "Such a good boy for me."

He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. "Noona..."

"I know." You kiss his forehead softly. "I know."

He's still hard. You can feel it. One orgasm isn't enough for him and you have no intention of stopping here.

"You can touch," you tell him.

His hands fly to your waist immediately, gripping tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear. But you grab his wrists and guide them higher, up to your chest, pressing his palms flat against your breasts.

"Here," you say softly. "I want you here."

He doesn't need to be told twice. His fingers curl around the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you shiver at the contact. He's learning by watching your face, paying attention to what makes your breath catch. When he circles his thumb around one nipple, your hips jerk forward involuntarily, grinding against his length again.

"Yeah," you breathe. "Just like that."

He gains confidence, squeezing and kneading, pinching lightly just to watch you gasp. Your head falls back and you let him play. Let him explore. His touch is worshipping, desperate, like he's trying to memorize every inch of you.

"Noona," he whines, hips bucking up. "Please. I need- I need you so bad."

You look down at him wrecked, hard, completely at your mercy and you feel a surge of affection so strong it almost hurts.

"I know, baby." You lean forward, bracing your hands on either side of his head, and let your tits brush against his chest. He tries to chase your mouth but you pull back just out of reach. "Tell me what you want."

"You," he gasps. "Just you. Always you."

"That's not specific enough."

His fingers dig into your hips, desperate. "I want you to ride me. I want to be inside you. I want to feel you cum around me. Please, noona. Please."

You reward him by lowering yourself just enough for the tip of him to press against your entrance. He moans, loud and broken, and his head falls back against the couch.

"Say it again," you whisper.

"Noona," he breathes. "My noona. Please tell me you love it. Please tell me you love when I call you that."

You sink down just an inch.

"I love it," you admit, voice barely above a whisper. "I love when you call me noona. I love the way it sounds coming from your mouth. I love how desperate you get.

A sob catches in his throat.

"I love it, Jake. I love when my good boy calls me noona."

You sink down fully, taking all of him in one slow, steady motion, and the sound he makes is inhuman. His back arches off the couch, mouth open in a silent scream, and you feel him throbbing inside you immediately.

You don't move at first. You just sit there, full of him, watching him come undone beneath you.

"Spit," you say suddenly.

His eyes flutter open, hazy with pleasure. "What?"

"Spit in my mouth."

Something dark flashes across his face. He reaches up, fingers trembling, and gathers saliva in his mouth. Then you lean down, lips parting, and he lets it fall from his lips to yours, warm and wet and obscene. You catch it on your tongue, moan at the taste of him, and then you lean back up and let it drip from your mouth down onto his chest.

"Again," you whisper.

He does it again. And again. Each time more desperate, more sloppy, until both of you are covered in spit and sweat and the evidence of how badly you want each other.

Then you start to move.

You ride him slow at first, which has him gasping your name. His hands find your tits again, playing with them, pinching and pulling until you're crying out above him. Every flick of his thumb sends a jolt through your body, makes you clench around him, makes him moan.

"Harder," he begs. "Please, noona, harder. I can take it. I'll take whatever you give me."

So you give him more. You bounce on his cock, fast and brutal, letting him watch the way your tits move with every thrust. His mouth waters. You can see it. He reaches up and spits directly onto your chest this time, watching his saliva drip down your skin, and you moan so loud you're sure someone could hear.

"Do you love it?" he gasps, thrusting up to meet you. "Do you love when I call you noona?"

"Yes," you cry out. "Yes, I love it, I love it so much-"

"Fuck- you're so fucking hot, say it again."

"I love it Jakey."

He grips your hips, flipping you both over so he's on top, and the sudden change in position makes you gasp. He doesn't enter you again, not yet. Instead he hovers over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other reaching down to guide himself through your soaked folds.

"You love being my noona," he says, and it's not a question anymore. It's a statement. "You love that I'm younger and you love that I make you feel this good."

"Yes." You're nodding frantically, beyond caring about pride. "Yes, Jake, yes-"

He pushes inside you in one sharp thrust and your vision goes white.

He fucks you hard no slow pace, no more teasing. Just desperate, animalistic rhythm, his hips slamming into yours, his mouth hovering over your chest. He spits on your nipples, watches the saliva glisten, then lowers his mouth to suck them clean. His tongue swirls around each peak, teeth grazing sensitive skin, and you're clawing at his back, leaving marks you know will last for days.

"Cum for me," he growls against your breast. "Cum on my cock, noona. Want to feel you squeeze me. Want you to soak me."

Your orgasm crashes over you without warning, your back arching off the couch, a scream tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him so tight he can barely move, but he keeps thrusting anyway chasing his own release, desperate and sloppy and perfect.

"Noona," he chants, thrusting erratically now. "Noona, noona, noona-"

His hips stutter, his eyes roll back, and he spills inside you with a broken cry of a mix of your name and noona.

He collapses onto your chest, both of you shaking, both of you soaked in sweat and spit and each other.

For a long moment, neither of you speak.

Then he lifts his head, chin resting on your chest, and gives you that familiar teasing smile but softer now, edges blurred by exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Love you, noona," he whispers.

You laugh, weak and breathless, and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

"Love you too, loser."

if u made it to the end threaten me with a good time 🤤

[sangbubble]

BEST FRIENDS - enhypen hyung line

Tired of being rejected for her lack of sexual experience, a young woman turns to her best friends for an unconventional favor.

INSPIRED BY 'YOUR TURN' STARRING @mssishipi! And; ''RENT-FREE! ' ' STARRING @swiftjay23

୨୧ pairing: best friends - hyungline x reader !

୨୧ content tags/warnings: hyung line x reader, reader is horny and desperate, alcohol.

୨୧ explicit content (smut): porn with plot, gangbang, face fucking, facials, nipple play, fingering, oral fixation, unprotected sex, degrading language, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling etc), double penetration, unprotected anal sex, slapping, handjob, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, this is straight up porn but have a potential romance at the end, sex aftercare. lmk if i missed something.

୨୧ WORD COUNT: 9.4K !

spotify suggest: bad idea right? ; Often ; Slow Down ; Señorita

note: English isn't my first language, so if you find any mistakes I apologize, hehe, and I also welcome any corrections or tips from you. If by some chance you're here and you speak Spanish, let me tell you that I do too, hehe, and that the Spanish version is available here.

"So, how did it go with Niki in the end?" Sunghoon asked, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.

"Oh, she really doesn't want to talk about it," Heeseung replied, sprawled on the sofa. The girl was next to him, a slight blush on her cheeks, her eyes rolling, and sighing.

"It was total shit," she blurted out. "He rejected me for still being 'just a kid.'" Jake, sitting next to Sunghoon, let out a loud laugh. "That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Right, I mean, who wouldn't jump at the chance to be with a virgin?" Sunghoon commented, still eating. The girl huffed. —Men,— she thought, forgetting that her best friends were just m e n.

"Don't be rude, Hoon, you're upsetting the poor girl." Jay entered the living room of Heeseung's apartment, where they were having a sleepover, carrying cans of beer and hitting his friend on the back of the head. Sunghoon didn't complain.

"Don’t worry. Someone else will come along who isn’t an asshole, or a jerk, or an idiot, or a creep, or a..."

"I get it, Jay, thanks..." the girl groaned. "I really thought he was interested."

"He was. Just in screwing you hard."

"Sunghoon!" the three guys around him snapped. Sunghoon just rolled his eyes. "Oh, screw you all. Don't act all high and mighty now. It’s the damn truth! Niki just wanted quick sex with her, and since she didn’t put out as easily as he expected, he ditched her."

"Sunghoon, you're not being very kind with your words..." Heeseung put his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Relax, screw Niki, you're a divine woman, beautiful, and you have a big heart, he's the one who's missing out."

"For God’s sake, Hee, there were more subtle ways to be a pussy." Jake teased, taking a sip of his beer.

She laughed; her friends were men, but they were good guys, no doubt.

"At least you didn’t sleep with someone who was just going to mess you around and then vanish. I guess that would’ve been pretty cruel for you, knowing how you are."

Jay was right, that would have been horrible; her friend had strong feelings for that guy and discovering that he only wanted to use her was a blow to her pride.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. God, it makes me nervous..." There was a brief silence, barely a minute. The guys waited; they knew the conversation wasn't over. "But you know what bothers me the most?"

They chuckled softly; their friend was so predictable.

"God! We were kissing and he lowered his hand, but I pulled away. I GOT COLD FEET, OKAY? “She covered her face with both hands, frustrated. “I felt ready, yes. But I don't know, I don't know what happened.”

“Take it as a sign that this wasn't the right path, that's all.”  Heeseung offered her his beer, and she took a long swig, annoyed, frustrated, and flushed. “Slow down.” He laughed.

"Jesus, I must be the only girl on campus who's still a virgin. I need a boyfriend. Introduce me to one of your friends, Hoon. How about that guy with pretty eyes?

"Jungwon´s just like Niki, trust me. He fucks and runs."

"Men! All the same idiots."

The guys laughed loudly, Heeseung gently patted his friend's head. Jay sat down on their other free side, placing a palm on her knee, smiling.

"You don't need to rush; everyone goes at their own pace."

"You say that because you've already done it. You guys have all done it; I've heard every single one of your stories a thousand times."

"Like that time Hoon was screwing a freshman and his grandma walked into the room," Jake recalled, getting a shove from Sunghoon, who complained that they didn't need to bring that up, how embarrassing.

"Shut up, jerk. What about you? That time you couldn't get it up because you were high?"

"Oh, man, that girl was so hot on top of me, I looked like such a loser," he fake-cried, laughing. "But Jay’s right, you don't have to stress about it. It’s just sex. Or what? Are you really that desperate for some dick?"

She opened her mouth to insult him, but closed it, looking away, blushing. She snatched the beer out of Heeseung’s hand and took a gulp. Her friend laughed beside her.

"She is."

"Shut the hell up, idiots, you’re making me uncomfortable."

She huffed in annoyance, leaving the now empty can on the small table in front of her. She took advantage of him getting up to walk out of the room, heading towards Heeseung's room.

"I'm going to go change," she said, heading towards Heeseung's room.

When she returned, now wearing athletic shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her friends were already in comfortable clothes too. She sat back down between Heeseung and Jay, draping her legs over Jay's lap and her head on Hee's. Neither of them said a word or made a move; this familiarity was normal between them; they'd been friends for over ten years.

They watched a movie, chosen by Jake and Sunghoon. They all drank beer and ate chips, occasionally chatting about silly things to share a laugh. She got up from Heeseung's lap, drawing the attention of all four of them.

"I can't take this anymore," she murmured. "Help me, I'm fed up."

Jay, gently stroking her ankles, looked at her, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Sex, Jay. I’ve been thinking... I don’t want my first time to be with some jerk who’s just going to mess me around and then disappear. Maybe it’s better to do it with someone I know won't hurt me. Someone I trust and have a real connection with."

"Are you saying you want to sleep with one of us?" Jake blurted out, stunned. She nodded.

"You guys aren't idiots. Well, sometimes you are. But you wouldn't be cruel to me."

"That’s it, no more beer for you. You're talking nonsense. The alcohol is getting to you." Heeseung took the beer from her hand. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Hee. It's just sex, right? Jake said so himself." Jake pointed at his own chest, surprised that they were ganging up on him with their eyes.

"Oh, come on! How many times have I let you guys use my room to get between a girl's legs? And all the times I introduced you to friends? I'm only asking for one thing."

Silence fell over the room. No one knew what to say. There was fear, tension, and a sudden, palpable heat. Jake looked at Sunghoon beside him, who was noticeably uncomfortable. Jay looked at his friend, then back at Heeseung behind her, who had stopped stroking her leg.

"With whom?" Jay finally blurted out, looking at her differently now—no longer as just a friend.

She hesitated, avoiding his gaze. She hadn't really thought that far ahead. "Um... I don't know," she replied.

"Any of you is fine. I don't have anyone in particular in mind." Jake stood up, restless, his expression nervous. Heeseung stopped him. "Uh-uh. Not you. You're a savage; you're going to hurt her." Jake rolled his eyes, looking for an excuse to start a stupid argument with his friend.

Just then, Jay stood up, took her hand, and pulled her toward the bedroom.

"I'm borrowing your room, Hee," he called out when they were practically inside. He closed the door slowly, leaving it unlocked. She looked up at him, her nerves spiking.

"I'll ask just to be sure. Are you certain? Nothing's going to happen that you don't want."

She nodded; she was still hesitant, but backing out would only make things awkward. She smiled;an expression he found adorable, her cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol, her skin glowing. God, that did things to Jay. He didn't have to lie to himself: his best friend was breathtaking. The only thing that had held him back before was the friendship, but now that he had her consent—now that it was her idea—he wasn't going to hold back.

He pulled her closer, his hands settling on her waist. He searched her eyes for a few seconds, looking for any sign of regret. Finding none, he smiled and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant at first, but Jay whispered, "Relax, it's okay." She let out a shaky sigh, trying to expel the anxiety, and began to follow his lead. Slowly, patiently. Jay relaxed, pulling back just an inch to breathe.

"Shall we continue?" He sought her silent approval, and she nodded. He shifted, one hand moving to the nape of her neck, the other firm on her waist, pulling their bodies flush together. He kissed her more desperately now, with a hunger that broke through his earlier calm. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness of the beer, then pulled away to graze her lower lip with his teeth. He left a trail of kisses across her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, and down to her throat. She squirmed under his touch, letting out a small laugh. "Tickles," she apologized sheepishly. He smiled, pressing a reassuring kiss to her jawline, his lips leaving a damp trail down to the pulse point in her neck. Jay could feel her artery thrumming against his lips. He pulled back slightly, catching her look of disappointment at the distance. "To bed, Darling."

The nickname struck a chord; she felt a jolt of heat pulse through her, and they had barely even begun. She shuffled over to Heeseung's bed under Jay's intense gaze. He shed his shirt, pulling her against him on the mattress. He kissed her again, hungrier, thirstier. His hands drifted down to her waist, caressing the soft skin of her abdomen beneath her shirt. She felt a shiver, not the kind that brings laughter, but the kind that left her aching. Jay hovered over the hem of her shirt, his eyes meeting hers. "May I?"

She nodded, desperate for him to take control, needing to be cared for. He yanked the garment off, his breath hitching as he stared at his best friend’s exposed chest. He licked his lips, devouring her with his gaze. The intensity made her pulse race; she needed his focus to stop lingering on her hardened nipples. He kissed her lips again, moving down with sudden desperation, licking and nibbling at her collarbones. Savoring her scent, he kissed the valley between her breasts, and, looking directly into her eyes, he drew his tongue across one aroused nipple, causing her to moan and tremble. He smiled, resting his teeth lightly against the tip before licking and teasing it, repeating the sequence on the other side, leaving her skin slicked.

He pulled back, his hand moving to the hem of her shorts, slowly dragging them down until they pooled on the floor.

Feeling exposed, she let out a sharp sigh. Jay kissed her thighs, his touch reverent, gradually moving upward. She felt his warm breath against her lace. He pressed a kiss to the center of her panties—soaking wet—and used his fingers to part the fabric, exposing her. He ran his tongue between her lips, a low moan escaping her as she felt the strain of his own desire pushing against his jeans. He focused all his attention on her, kissing and tasting her, feeling her hands tangling into his hair, occasionally pushing him deeper. He was determined to make her feel completely worshipped, finding her most sensitive spot and sending electric shocks through her entire body.

"Jay... it's a lot..." she sighed, breathless. He pulled back just enough to look at her. "It's just the beginning, my love." Jay wet his fingers, guiding them to her entrance. "Breathe..." He pushed inside slowly, feeling her nervousness, tight heat close around him. He kissed her deeply to distract her from the intrusion. As she began to relax, he increased the rhythm, sliding in a second and then a third finger, the sensual sound of fluid and friction becoming rhythmic. Jay kissed her lips, her neck, her belly, massaging her clitoris with his thumb in slow, teasing circles. She began to tremble, her legs shaking uncontrollably until he finally pulled away.

"I'm going in, Darling." He promised his voice raw. "I'll be gentle." He shed his pants and boxers, finally revealing his arousal—hard and throbbing. He moved between her legs, and she wrapped them around his hips, pulling him close.

He stood firmly at the edge of the bed, grasping her hips to pull her closer. He pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance and entered her slowly, watching her face for any flicker of pain. She felt him stretch her; it was a dull, hot burn, but it wasn't pain. She took a deep, shuddering breath to release the tension. Jay pushed all the way in, a low moan escaping his throat as he waited for the right rhythm, easing into it slowly.

"Mhg~ Ja-Jay..." she whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut as her hand traced the muscles of his abdomen.

"Are you okay, darling?"

She nodded, moaning louder as he began to move. He was fully submerged, heavy and rhythmic. "More... more, Jay..." Those words were the green light he needed. He increased the pace and depth, his hips slamming into hers, causing her to cry out. He stroked her clitoris with his thumb in time with his thrusts. She tried to cover her mouth to stifle her screams, but he wouldn't let her. He pinned her wrists to the mattress, increasing his speed. "No, darling. I want to hear from you. Tell me, do you like it?"

"Y-yes... Mhg~ Jay, yes, I like it..." She could barely form the words, her mind clouded by the rush of heat flooding her body. It felt intense, overwhelming, and perfect.

"What do you like? Uhm? Tell me," he demanded, lowering his body until he could taste her lips, their moans blending together.

"Ghk! I like... how you’re filling me... hmh~."

That made him smile against her mouth, tugging at her lip with his teeth. He released her wrists to straighten up, catching her legs and pulling them over his shoulders, driving himself deeper, seeking that impossible connection. "Ugh~ Ja-jay... Ngh~ I’m going to..."

He could feel her body milking him, squeezing him so tightly it forced him to slow down. Her thighs began to tremble violently, and she let out a broken, intense cry. "That's it, baby... Cum on my cock. I love you; I love you..." He accelerated again, the wet, rhythmic slap of their bodies filling the room. "Ugh... I'm close, baby... ahh-ahh... I'm going to cum..."

Jay groaned, his pelvis hitting hers with one final, hard strike. As the tremors of her orgasm raced through her, he pulled back slightly, driving his final thrusts home until he groaned and flooded her abdomen with his warmth. Dazed, breathless, and slick with sweat, he remained still for a moment as the end of his release faded. He tapped his cock gently against her swollen, sensitive lips.

"Hmm... So, tell me, love, is everything alright?" he whispered, blinking through the haze of ecstasy. He brushed her hair away, smiling at her like a fool, and kissed her lips and cheeks with newfound tenderness. "Did you like it? Or was I an idiot?"

"No, Jay, you're not an idiot. Everything's fine... very fine," she answered, her throat dry, her cheeks still flushed. She smiled at him, soft and vulnerable. "I loved it. It met my expectations, and then some. I love you."

"I love you too, darling. Let me clean you up. I'll be right back."

Jay stood up, moving toward the door to grab a towel. He pulled it open, but he froze. Standing right there, staring back at him, was Jake—with his hand already down his own pants, his eyes dark and dilated.

"What are you doing? That’s disgusting," Jay scolded, glancing over his shoulder toward the living room. Heeseung and Sunghoon were in the same state, both handling themselves. "You guys weren't exactly quiet, Jay." Jake countered, still pumping his cock, his eyes flicking toward the girl on the bed. "It's my turn now."

Jake moved to enter the room, but Jay stopped him, grabbing his arm in a possessive, tight grip. "You're not going to fuck her." Jake laughed sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "And why not? You just did! And you made sure we all heard. It’s not fair."

"She asked me to," Jay justified.

Jake shook his head, jabbing a finger at him. "No, she said she was fine with any of us, and you just happened to be the one who took her." Jay sighed; he was too exhausted to argue, but Jake had a point.

"Fine. Ask her. But only if she wants to." Both boys turned to look at her. Under their intense gazes, she instinctively pulled her legs together to cover herself. "Tell him, darling," Jay said, his voice laced with possessiveness. "This savage wants to fuck you. Are you going to say no?"

She blinked, stunned by the irony of it all—having sex with her best friend in another best friend's bed while the other two listened from the living room. She flicked her gaze between Jay and Jake, her nerves burning at her fingertips. She was exposed, still sensitive, and completely overwhelmed. She swallowed hard. "I… I don't know…" Jay smiled, trying to push the other boy back. "See? She doesn't want to. Let's go."

But the Australian wouldn't allow it. He shoved Jay’s arm away, stepped into the room, and loomed over her, devouring her with his eyes. "Come on, gorgeous, don't leave me hanging. A little while ago, you were so eager for a cock you were willing to take any of ours." Jake’s voice was deep, gravelly, barely stroking his cock in front of her. "Why settle for one when you can have all four of us for the night?"

"Jake... I think you're pushing her too hard," Jay warned from the doorway. "Fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll do it." Silence descended on the room. Feeling trapped, she avoided their eyes, pulling her arms around her chest.

"Say it again," Jake demanded, his hunger palpable. "I need to hear it again, and I swear to God, it’ll be the best day of your life."

"I agree to have sex with you now, Jake," she stated, her heart hammering against her ribs. "And I agree to do it with the others... just for today."

That was all the Australian needed. He grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her roughly, desperately. "Fuck," he groaned against her lips. "I'm not promising to be gentle. But if I do something wrong, you can kick my balls." That made her laugh, a soft, nervous sound. She nodded.

Jake continued kissing her, practically devouring her mouth, seeking to taste every inch of her. He nibbled at her lips, not even letting her breathe. With one hand on her waist and the other cupping her breast, he squeezed hard, pinching her nipple between his fingers until she stifled a gasp. She unconsciously began rubbing her pussy against the sheets, and Jake, noticing the rhythm of her hips, pulled away, halting all action.

"We’re going to do this, beautiful..." He circled the bed, climbing onto the mattress from behind to press his chest against her bare back. "Open your legs for your audience." In front of her, near the door, stood Jay, staring intensely, his cock already hard again. Behind him, Heeseung and Sunghoon were in the same state, watching with hungry eyes. The sheer weight of their attention made her heart hammer against her ribs. Avoiding their gaze, she sat up straight, spreading her legs as instructed.

Jake mirrored her, sitting up behind her. He grabbed her knees, pulling them wide to expose her completely to the other three. He leaned in, kissing and biting at her shoulder. He brought two fingers to her mouth. "Suck," he ordered. She obeyed, licking both fingers until they were slick with her saliva. He teased her mouth for a moment before pulling them out with a wet, sharp pop. He dragged his dripping fingers down to her wet pussy, delivering a stinging slap that made her jump.

"Hmm, look at you, already jumping," he rasped. "I can't even imagine what I’m going to do to you later." He rubbed his fingers up and down the length of her cunt—slowly at first, then suddenly driving them inside with incredible speed.

"Oh—AHH~!" she cried out, her muscles clenching, her legs trying to instinctively snap shut. Jake slowed his pace, circling her entrance with his fingertips before driving his fingers deep again, biting hard into her shoulder to stifle her moan.

"Do you like it, beautiful? Uhm? Do you like how I'm touching you while the others watch? You're so turned on; you're definitely enjoying this."

His fingers worked her entrance roughly, sliding in and out, pausing every few seconds to curl into hooks against her sensitive walls. Heeseung moved closer, climbing onto the bed with his cock already in his hand, guiding it toward her lips. "Suck it," he ordered in a low, rough voice. She didn't hesitate, opening her mouth to receive his swollen length. "Ohh... Umh~ that’s it, baby." He held her head firmly in both hands, setting the rhythm. He pulled her back, only to drive himself deeper into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around the sensitive tip. "Do it again, and I’ll blow your mouth apart, I swear. You’re going to feel every bit of me."

It was a threat she decided to take as a challenge. She licked from base to tip, leaving a lingering kiss on the head of his cock, locking eyes with Heeseung as she teased him. She swirled her tongue around his opening, and Heeseung trembled on the mattress, his own fist tightening around the base of his shaft.

"Open wide for me, baby. Breathe through your nose." She obeyed, parting her lips as wide as she could without scraping him with her teeth. Heeseung thrust deep into her throat, forcing a gag reflex, but he didn't let her pull away. He began to pound into her mouth, his movements so rhythmic and forceful that his nose brushed against her chin. "Hmh… ohh~, baby, I'm gonna... ugh~, I'm gonna cum." He continued to thrust, his pace becoming desperate. "You're going to swallow it all for me, right? Because you're a good girl, aren't you?." She nodded, her throat working around his cock, her mouth vibrating with every movement, while Jake’s fingers continued their work inside her, leaving her feeling exquisitely overwhelmed. Heeseung thrust his hips a few more times before he spilled inside her, deep and relentless, emptying himself until the very last drop. He pulled his cock from her mouth, which was left swollen and flushed. He smiled, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Beautiful. You’re so beautiful."

"Get off, Jake" Sunghoon commanded, appearing behind him. Jake huffed, pulling his hand away from her and sliding off the bed. Heeseung retreated as well, stepping back to watch. Sunghoon immediately moved in, his skin hot against hers as he stroked her back, leaving a trail of kisses along her shoulder. "Sit on my face, honey."

"Huh?" she breathed, turning to look at him. Sunghoon was completely naked, his expression dark and hungry. He smiled, showing his fangs, and pressed a brief, possessive kiss to her lips. ""Sit on my face, love. I'm going to eat that pussy now." He lay back against the pillows, gesturing for her to straddle him. She positioned her knees on either side of his head, hovering for a heartbeat. Even before she settled, she could feel his warm breath ghosting over her entrance. He gripped her waist, burying his face against her, his nose brushing rhythmically against her clitoris. She let out a broken moan. Sunghoon parted her, his tongue sweeping from side to side before diving deep inside.

"Ohh... God, Hoon... I-I can't," she gasped, her teeth chattering. He was too close, the friction of his nose and the heat of his tongue driving her wild. She buried her hands in her own hair, tugging at the roots as he caught her clitoris between his lips, pulling at it with rhythmic pressure. "Mmm... ohh..." Jay and Jake approached, taking her hands and guiding them to their cocks.

"Make us feel good, darling," Jay whispered, kissing her lips with that familiar, gentle heat. She moved her hands over her friends' erections, her touch growing desperate as she began to masturbate them. Sunghoon reached up, pinching one of her nipples, while Jake leaned in to lick the other.

"Mmm... ohh~ Fuck, shit... Hoon, I'm going to—AHH!"

Her warning came too late. The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave—a fluttering deep in her belly and electric tingles that shot straight to her clitoris. Sunghoon didn't let up, catching every shudder and moan. Her legs pressed against his shoulders, trembling as she melted into him, her body completely surrendering to the sensation. Jake, his eyes locked on the spectacle, released his own hand to stroke himself fiercely, his gaze wild with hunger.

"Open your tight little for me, beautiful." She obeyed, parting her lips and letting her tongue tease the air. The Australian gave one final, forceful pump, letting his semen shoot toward her face. Most of it landed in her mouth, with a few stray drops staining her cheeks. When he was spent, he dragged the head of his cock along her skin, collecting the excess, and pressed the still-laden tip against her lips. "Swallow it all, beautiful."

Sunghoon and Jake pulled back, finally giving her a brief respite. Her head was lost in the clouds, her body trembling, still humming with residual heat. Heeseung, sitting against the headboard, patted her thighs, his cock hard once again.

"Up, baby. Show me how well you can ride me." She crawled toward him, positioning herself over his lap. Heeseung guided his tip to her entrance, leaving the responsibility of the connection to her. "I'm all yours, baby. My cock belongs to you now. Jump on me until I can't take any more."

She lowered herself slowly. The angle stretched her in a way Jay hadn't, and as she sank down, she felt him penetrate her to the hilt. Both of them let out a shuddering sigh. She moved her hips in slow, deliberate circles, adjusting to his size, before beginning a steady up-and-down motion that was pure torture for him. Heeseung watched her, his hands kneading her breasts, licking and biting at her erect nipples, his eyes locked on her face as she surrendered to the movement. "Look at me, baby." She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. Heeseung gripped her wrists, pulling them behind her back, and thrust his hips upward to meet her. "Faster, baby. Harder." She used her knees for momentum, bouncing on him, sliding in and out with a wet, rhythmic squelching sound that filled the room.

"Ohh... hah~ Hee... ugh..." Heeseung released her wrists, gripping her hips instead, and adjusted himself to lie flat against the mattress for a better view. He lifted her hips slightly, never withdrawing, and began to thrust upward—hard, fast, frantic. The sound of her buttocks slapping against his thighs stripped him of his control; the sight of her breasts bouncing frantically hastened his second climax of the night. "Ohh... ohh... baby, I'm going to cum." Pressing his hands into her hips, he pulled her down onto him with a rough, final surge. She screamed as he hit the spot she couldn't hide from. "Hee... AAH! There... right there, Heeseung... please!" He smiled victoriously, having found her sweet spot. He accelerated, thrusting harder, faster, deeper, until his own body began to spasm. He held her tight, his balls hitting her rhythmically as he emptied himself deep inside her. The walls of her canal squeezed him, forcing him to hold her close, gasping against her shoulder as he collapsed. He pulled her down, hugging her against his chest, pressing tender kisses to her damp skin. "Good girl. So good, baby. You sucked me dry." He laughed, his voice ragged with exhaustion, as he continued to pepper her shoulder with kisses.

"Okay, that's enough. I've been waiting to sink into that fucking cunt ever since she floated the idea in the living room," Jake complained, standing at the edge of the bed, his hand already on his cock. "Heeseung, off. Now."

Heeseung laughed and moved her off him, pressing one last kiss to her lips before pulling away. Jake climbed onto the bed, naked and predatory, moving her across the sheets. He gave her ass a light, stinging pat. "Lift that ass for me, gorgeous. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name." She shifted onto her hands and knees, face down, feeling the heat rise to her face and neck. The weight of the position felt heavy, exposing her in a way that made her pulse thunder. The other three were watching, their hands working themselves as they stared. Jake grabbed her hips, staring down at her dripping entrance. "It looks better from this angle, no doubt," he rasped. "And you’re soaked." He slapped her right buttock—hard—making her gasp as a red mark bloomed on her already sensitive skin. "So tell me, how does it feel to have the attention of your four best friends? Huh? You like it. You love it. You're giving yourself to us like a total slut. Friend."

"Shut your mouth, Jake," she choked out, her body burning. He slapped her again, and again, his palm stinging against her flesh until her skin was flushed. "Ask me for it." He positioned his cock right at her entrance, teasing her. "Beg me to put it in. Do it." He leaned down to kiss the back of her neck, his hands tracing the line of her spine.

"Shit, Jake... please. Just do it," she whispered, her hips already arching, seeking him. "I don't understand. What do you want? Hmm?"

"Put your cock in me, Jake. Please... fuck me. Hard. Fast."

"Whatever my little girl wants," he grinned.

He thrust in—rough and sudden—practically piercing her. The impact forced a heart-wrenching scream from her lungs. She buried her head in the pillows for a second, and when she looked up, tears were streaming down her cheeks from the sheer intensity.

"Jake! You're hurting her, you idiot!" Jay shouted, his voice laced with anger, while Heeseung stepped forward as if ready to pull him off.

"Of course I'm not. The little slut is just exaggerating," Jake panted, already beginning to move with frantic, heavy thrusts. "She loves it when I ram it in all the way. Right, my love?"

"Ugh... yes... it's—it's okay... shit... just like that... fuck, Jake... ohh..." She was too dazed by the force of him to speak clearly, her voice breaking with every strike.

"Sunghoon. Put your cock in her mouth so this whore stops crying."

Sunghoon approached, crouching down to her level. He caressed her cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs before kissing her tenderly to stifle the moans escaping her. When he pulled back, he brushed his cock against her cheek with a few light slaps. He smiled as she, on her own, sought him out, taking his throbbing length into her mouth and swallowing him whole.

"Ugh... for your first time, you're doing so well, love." He stroked her hair, visibly turned on by the sight of her working on him while Jake’s cock sank deep inside her from behind. She didn't even need to move her hips; Jake’s brutal thrusts did all the work, forcing her onto Sunghoon with every strike. "Ngh... A-Augh!, J-Jake," she sobbed as his thumb suddenly plunged into her ass, forcing the opening. "Sorry, love, but I can't hold back..." he rasped, massaging her in tight circles before pushing his finger deeper, hooked against her walls.

"Gah...! Mmm... ohh... Jake... m-more... please, more! Ahh!" she moaned shamelessly, her voice echoing through the room. By then, Heeseung and Jay were right beside Sunghoon. Jake, still hammering into her soaking pussy, gathered her hair in his fist and pulled her back until her spine pressed against his chest, continuing the brutal rhythm.

"Look at them, love. Look at them touching themselves while they watch us fuck." Jake smiled darkly, biting her earlobe and sucking on her neck. Jay took her hand, guiding it to himself, and she complied instantly. Heeseung and Sunghoon each claimed a nipple. “Ahh… ohh~ , ohh… God, ohh God..” The girl felt that familiar electric shock again—racing from the base of her neck, down her spine, to her abused cunt. She trembled violently under Jake's grip. "Jake! Jake! Jake!" He pushed her down again, forcing her onto her hands and knees and shoving her head back toward Sunghoon’s cock. "Grab it, you whore. If you could see yourself right now... crying and screaming my name while I tear you apart, mouth busy with one cock and hands with another." He laughed mockingly, slapping her ass over and over. " Ahh~ Ahh… Such a fucking slut. And you love it."

Jake pulled out suddenly, leaned down, and spat on her pussy before slapping her sensitive lips hard. Sunghoon, meanwhile, gripped the back of her neck, trembling as he bit his own lip. He pulled out of her mouth and came across her face, splattering her skin. "Ugh... total slut." He ran his fingers over her face, then shoved them into her mouth so she could taste him completely. "Good girl, baby."

"I'm not finished with you yet, though, gorgeous." Jake hugged her from behind, holding her limp, sweaty body against his chest. He took his aching cock and pressed it against her second entrance. "You're going to have to breathe deep, love. I won't get in if you tense up. Come on, darling... open up for me." As he began to slide into her tight opening, Jake groaned, the pressure almost making him lose his mind. "Ohh... Jake... no, I can't... Jake, no... A-Augh! It hurts..."

Jay moved closer, kissing her lovingly to distract her. He took her hands, letting her dig her nails into his skin as she moaned against his lips. "You can do it, love. You're doing great."

He was almost completely inside her now. She felt stretched, irritated, and overwhelmed. For a moment, neither moved. "Beautiful, I’m going to move now. I need you to scream my name as loud as you can, and I'll come just for you." Jake began to move slowly, carefully, waiting for her to relax. Jay took control, kissing her and kneading her breasts while Heeseung gently caressed her clitoris from below. When the tension finally left her shoulders, Jake began to thrust deeper, faster, harder.

"Hah... Jake... Jake! Ohh!" That was it. Jake finally released inside her, his body spasming. Kissing her shoulder and cheek, he pulled out of her aching body and rubbed his cock against her pussy. "God, Jake, don't do that. I'm right here," Heeseung complained from below, having been tending to her the whole time. "Better get off."

The boy, still breathless from his release, laid her down beside him on the bed, peppering her face with kisses. Heeseung moved to switch places with him, leaning his back against the headboard. "Sunghoon, help her... on top of me." Sunghoon gripped her waist, lifting her to sit on Heeseung's lap. He stayed right behind her, his hard cock pressing firmly against the cleft of her ass. "Love, tell me... do you want to take us both at the same time?" Heeseung looked deep into her eyes, that intense, unyielding stare he got when he wanted something. Sunghoon was behind her, his fingers teasing her weak, slick entrance, which was still dripping with the semen of the previous rounds. "I asked you a question. Answer me." He spoke again, but this time his eyes were filled with desire.

"Yes... I will, Hee... both of you. Yes." Heeseung smiled, kissing her lips before affectionately rubbing his nose against hers.

"Like a total slut. Yes." Sunghoon spat on her back, guiding his cock into her before thrusting home. "Ohh... fuck... it's better than any other cunt I’ve ever touched." Without moving, she felt the tip of Heeseung's cock asking for permission to enter alongside him. She writhed, her body stretching to accommodate the two of them at once. They began to move, trying to find a shared rhythm. As one pushed in, the other withdrew, a relentless cycle. "Umh... hmh... guys... it's a lot. T-too much..." Heeseung kissed her desperately, pulling her back against his chest. "You can do it, like the fucking whore you are. You're taking two at once. Two fucking cocks in your cunt. Fucking whore, that's what you are." Sunghoon threw his head back as he moved, his spit landing on her skin. With each thrust, he tried to sink deeper, the friction of their bodies rubbing together becoming almost unbearable.

"Hoon... don't call her that. She's not a whore. She's our little doll." Heeseung defended her. For him, the dynamic was different; he wanted to tear her body apart, but never her feelings. "Ohh... ohh... God, I'm close, love. I'm close!"

"Do it. Do it on us, baby. And we'll fill you up again." Sunghoon roughly squeezed the back of her neck, spreading her cheeks wide as he watched them slide in and out of her together. Her legs trembled for the countless time that night. She buried her face in Heeseung's shoulder as they continued to pump inside her. Heeseung came first, followed quickly by Sunghoon. They thrust a few more times after climaxing, slowly withdrawing from her. The weight of her body went completely limp against them.

She felt defeated, weak, and utterly spent. She clung awkwardly to Heeseung's sweaty frame while Sunghoon pulled away. "Oh God, look at all that semen spilling out of her," Jake remarked from the side. "You asked for one cock and got four. Plenty of girls would kill to be in your place, love."

"Shut up, Jake," she snapped, her voice raspy. Heeseung stroked her head affectionately. "I can't take any more, guys... please."

"One last thing," Jay interjected, his voice firm. "On your knees. Right here on the floor. Now."

She lifted her head, pouting at Heeseung, who only smiled and kissed her forehead. "This is it, and then we’re done, love."

She nodded, awkwardly shifting from Heeseung's lap and getting off the bed to kneel on the carpet, still breathless. She just needed this to be over. The four boys surrounded her like a wall of heat. Jay, who had orchestrated this final scene, pressed his cock against her swollen, pouting lips. "Suck it. You're the only one who hasn't taken care of me with your mouth yet, love."

"You were literally the first one to fuck her, what are you even talking about?" Jake complained, though he didn't move away. She took Jay’s cock in her hand, licking from the base to the tip, where precum was already oozing. She took him deep into her throat, sucking fast and loud, the heat of her mouth drawing a groan from him. Jay pulled out with a wet pop, immediately guiding the back of her neck toward Jake. Jake groaned as he felt her teeth graze his sensitive skin. "Don't bite me, sweetheart. I know you like having a cock in your mouth, but you don't actually eat it." He laughed, his fingers tangling in her hair as he dictated her movements, forcing her to take all of him. He held her there for a few seconds until she choked, then released her abruptly, watching a silver trail of saliva spill from her lips. "Now for your favorite, love." He pushed her toward Heeseung, who was watching her like a predator watching its prey. She opened her mouth for him, but Heeseung pulled back just out of reach, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, look at her, Hee. She gets mad if you don't give it to her," Jake laughed, masturbating beside them. "Ask me for it, love. Ask me to give it to you. Go ahead," Heeseung ordered, his eyes boring into hers. She swallowed hard, her thighs slick. She was exhausted, yet her body still hummed with excitement. He waited, tilting his head. "Please, Hee..."

"Please what? I can't hear you. A little while ago you were screaming with two cocks inside you, and now you can't talk?"

"Please, Heeseung... fuck my mouth. Please, I need it. I need you." His expression softened instantly. He brought his cock to her lips, panting. "Good girl. Now, take a deep breath." Obeying his command, she inhaled through her nose just as the hot tip of his penis hit the back of her throat, forcing a gag. He didn't let her recoil, thrusting steadily. Jay and Jake moved in on either side, taking her hands and guiding them to their own lengths. With clumsy, tired movements, she worked both of them while Heeseung dominated her mouth.

"I have an idea. Just leave the tip in, Hee," Sunghoon interjected, eager for his turn. Heeseung complied, leaving only the sensitive head of his cock on her tongue. Sunghoon immediately pressed his own right next to it. "Suck it. Take both at once, like the slut you are." She rolled her eyes, annoyed by his attitude even now, but that was just Sunghoon. She took both of them as best she could, their tips stretching her mouth to its limit. Her cheeks were strained, and saliva dripped down her chin in a messy, wet display of total surrender.

"Take all four, love. Come on," Jake urged, his fingers tangling in her hair.

She pulled the two cocks from her mouth, switching her focus to the other two. Now, she was masturbating Heeseung and Sunghoon with frantic, tired hands. She let go of Sunghoon for a moment to refocus on Jay, taking him all the way down, swirling her tongue around his tip until he gasped. "Ohh... Keep going with the other one, love," Jay panted, his voice breaking. "We're going to come all over your pretty face." She released Jay, opening her mouth for Sunghoon again. Ella worked him from base to tip, over and over, sucking the head while her hand pumped his shaft. "Damn... almost there, almost there," he groaned, pulling back to let her continue with Jake. Jake forced her mouth to close as tightly as possible around him, thrusting his cock into her cheek until a protruding bump formed against her skin. "Fuck, love... ugh. I could stay in here all day. I love you." The visual was enough to make his muscles lock. He finally let her go, stepping back to finish masturbating on his own.

Finally, she was back in front of Heeseung. He stroked her chin, his thumb trailing over her flushed cheeks and swollen, glistening lips. She didn't expect the slap; it wasn't hard, just a sharp, stinging tap. Under the watchful eyes of the other three—all of them on the verge of climax—Heeseung slapped her other cheek, leaving two distinct red marks on her skin.

"You love this, don't you? You're enjoying it so much," he whispered, his eyes dark with adoration and lust. "I love you. Be a good girl and open your mouth for us." She obeyed, parting her lips and sticking out her tongue, waiting. Jay was the first. He pumped his cock, ejaculating across her face until he was spent. He let her suck the tip one last time before pulling away, making room for Jake and Sunghoon. Both stood on either side of her, spilling their essence over her skin, aiming everywhere but her mouth. When they finished, they both slapped their heavy, wet lengths against her sticky cheeks. Heeseung finished the cycle. He gave his cock one last, desperate stroke before unloading onto her lips, shoving his length deep into her throat one final time as he came. He pulled out slowly, his body sagging with total exhaustion.

A few minutes passed where the only sound in the room was their ragged, synchronized breathing. As the pleasure slowly faded, a heavy sense of shame began to settle in. She ran a hand over her face, trying to wipe away the stickiness that adorned it; one eye stung, and her throat felt like sandpaper. She didn't dare get up, staring at the floor, focusing on the carpet patterns to keep from dying of embarrassment.

Heeseung was the first to move. He took her gently by the waist, carrying her to the bathroom. He turned on the tap, waiting for the water to warm. As he stroked her hair—damp with sweat and fluids—she avoided his gaze, and he didn't force it. He understood the shift; the ecstasy had worn off, and reality had set in.

Once the tub was full, he helped her clean herself, running a sponge soaked in vanilla-scented soap over her aching body. When he reached her lower half, she snapped back to awareness, reflexively closing her legs. She took the sponge from him, rubbing the area herself, her face contorting. It hurt—a dull, throbbing heat. While she worked slowly, Heeseung washed her hair with his coconut shampoo, massaging her scalp. He watched as she closed her eyes and melted into the gesture. He loved taking care of her, even if he wasn't ready to admit how fast it made his heart race.

When he finished, he left her to finish in private, leaving a T-shirt and a pair of his athletic shorts for her. Back in the room, he found Sunghoon and Jake sprawled out, already fast asleep, while Jay sat on the small sofa, dressed in his pants.

"She´s okay?" Jay asked. Heeseung nodded. "God, get dressed. I don't want to see your dick right now—or theirs." Heeseung chuckled, pulling on some clothes.

Ten minutes later, she appeared, swallowed by her friend's oversized clothes, drying her hair with a towel. Clean now, the marks on her thighs and neck were impossible to miss. She realized Heeseung and Jay were staring and felt a wave of panic.

"Okay, stop staring at me. Or I'm going to cry," she complained, pouting. They both laughed; she looked adorable. Jay disappeared into the bathroom, leaving them alone. "Come on, I'll help you," Heeseung offered with a sweet smile. She sat on the sofa, and he positioned himself behind her to dry her hair. "Everything alright? Was there... anything you didn't like? I mean, Jake and Sunghoon were pretty rough... don't take them seriously, they say that stuff to everyone."

"It's fine, Hee. Don't worry." She sighed. "I'm so tired. Even my eye hurts. Look, it's red." He leaned in to check. It was indeed bloodshot. He suspected someone’s aim had been a bit too true during that last round, but he wasn't going to remind her of that now. "I need to sleep for two days straight, I swear."

He began brushing her hair gently. "Hey... would it be weird if I asked for a kiss now? I mean, a real one... don't get me wrong—" She smiled, amused. She loved seeing him nervous. She nodded and leaned in, meeting his lips in an awkward, soft kiss. Heeseung sighed into it, taking her chin to deepen the kiss, making it gentle and full of an affection that had been missing in the chaos. When they broke apart, he peppered her face with kisses—her cheeks, her forehead.

"Hee, stop," she laughed softly, "or we'll start a new round, and believe me, I'm completely out of energy." Heeseung chuckled, nodding as he pulled her close to just hold her.

The next morning, she woke up in Heeseung’s bed, his arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her so tightly it was as if he feared she might disappear. They were the only two left in the room. She tried to sit up, but his grip on her waist only tightened. "Hee, wake up," she whispered, her voice raspy. She had to clear her throat and gently shake his shoulder to pull him from sleep. "Are you awake yet?"

"Good morning, beautiful," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep. She felt her cheeks burn a bright pink. He stared at her with an intensity that made her heart skip—as if something had permanently clicked in his mind. He only snapped out of it when she tried to stand and stumbled backward with a sharp groan.

"Uh... Ouch!" she cried out, clutching her lower abdomen. Heeseung was on his feet in a second, eyes wide. "Damn it, are you okay? What hurts? Did we... did we hurt you? I swear, if we did, I’ll go and cut their dicks off right now."

She laughed despite the pain, shaking her head. "I'm fine. I mean, yes, it hurts, but it's not life or death. I just really need to pee. Urgently." She scrambled toward the bathroom, but Heeseung wasn't convinced—especially when he spotted a small bloodstain on the sheets and more evidence in the bathroom trash. He decided to keep it to himself for now; he didn't want to embarrass her in front of the others.

Jay cooked lunch for the group. They all sat together in the dining room, the atmosphere a strange mix of domesticity and lingering tension. "Slow down... you're going to choke," Jake teased, watching her eat with a desperate energy. "Shut up. I'm obviously starving," she snapped, a piece of meat still in her mouth as she glared at him. "So... how are you feeling?" Jake asked, leaning in.

"Holy crap! Could you... just stop asking me? Please."

"We're just worried about you, darling," Jay said smoothly, placing a fresh piece of steak on her plate with a smile. "I'm fine, guys. Really."

"Exactly. You don't have to be embarrassed; we're your friends, after all," Jake said, patting her head. "Well, the concept of 'friendship' has escalated quite a bit, hasn't it?" she muttered, rolling her eyes. Sunghoon held out a piece of vegetable with his chopsticks, offering it to her. She shook her head. "I have my own, thanks."

"Eat," Sunghoon commanded, moving the chopsticks closer. "Last night you were all excited; don’t start acting delicate now."

"Hoon, leave her alone," Heeseung scolded. She sighed and took the bite. "Ah! I just remembered," Jake murmured, lowering his voice. "I didn't... hurt you, did I? I mean, you know. Back there." She choked on her water, her face turning a deep shade of crimson. "Everything’s fine. Just... a little pain. I hope it goes away soon because I’m trying really hard to stay seated right now."

Jake laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Sooooo sorry. I got carried away. But at least tell me you liked it. Come on, tell me. Please." She hesitated for a second, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. "It was awful. I'm never letting it happen again."

Jake looked genuinely wounded, his face contorting with mock offense while the other three roared with laughter. "You're such a liar. Do I really have to remind you how you were screaming my name? 'Stick your dick in me, Jake, please, fuck me,'" he mocked, pitch-shifting his voice to an exaggerated, breathy tone.

He immediately received a punch to the chest. Annoyed and blushing, she turned to Heeseung for help. "Hee! Jake's bothering me. Say something to him!"

"Jake, bother her again and I'll cut your dick off, I swear. The knife is right here," Heeseung scoffed, gesturing toward the kitchen counter. "Party pooper. Fine, I'll shut up," Jake muttered, though he was still grinning.

"What's going on with you two, anyway? You're being all lovey-dovey," Sunghoon pointed out, leaning back. "Heeseung literally kicked us all out of his room so he could sleep alone with you. And now you're asking him to defend you? Please. Last night it was all, 'Please, Heeseung, fuck my mouth with your cock—'"

"Okay! That’s it. I’m leaving," she snapped, standing up and ready to grab her things. "I hate you all. Don't ever speak to me again." But before she could take a step, Heeseung’s hands caught her wrists, pulling her back into a firm hug. She let out a huff but buried her face in his chest anyway. "Shut your mouths or I’ll hit you," Heeseung warned the others. "And no, we're not 'in love.' It’s called being considerate, Sunghoon. You should try it sometime."

After the drama settled, the others finally headed to their respective homes. Jay offered to drive her, but she refused, choosing to stay a little longer. Heeseung was at the sink washing the dishes when he felt her arms wrap around his waist from behind. He stopped, drying his hands to turn around and cup her face. He gave her a quick, sweet kiss. "Hee..." she murmured. "Tell me, baby."

"You're the best. I just wanted to tell you... thanks for taking care of me. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, baby," he chuckled softly, his thumb stroking her cheek. "It's the least I could do after everything we did. Besides, I love you. You're my best friend... I'd be an idiot if I wasn't kind to you."

"Uhm, yeah... best friends..." She looked at him intently, her brow furrowing. "Why do I feel different with you? I mean, I don't know... this feels... ugh. Never mind. Forget it."

He smiled, tilting her chin up to kiss her again—this time faster, with more hunger and a depth of feeling that hadn't been there before. "Fuck it," he whispered against her lips. "You can't be just my 'best friend' again after this. I mean, I had my cock in your pussy and your throat. There’s nothing friendly about that." She punched his chest again, though there was no force behind it. "Heeseung! Don't remind me!"

"New round? Just you and me?" he teased with a mischievous grin. "No. My ass hurts. Literally."

He laughed, kissing her cheeks and pulling her back into a protective hug. That night, they stayed alone in the apartment, simply sharing the silence and each other's presence. There were no ulterior motives, just the occasional passionate kiss. They had both realized that the attraction was much more than a one-night stand—it was real. But they were still too dazed to confront it.

That would be a problem for another day.

AAAH I finally published it! I hope you liked it. It's the first time I've written something like this, and so long, to be honest, hehe. Your requests, ideas, questions (or anything else) are welcome.

taglist: @dheimyoung-im24 ; @ikeuholica ; @ramyeonwon ; @pix3lkitten ; @heeseungswifeee ; @deobitifull ; @aeiuolav ; @cowbriki ; @nishimurarizzler ; @enbtsbp75 ; @lynxleynelleidk

[lovecvrexx]

VIRGIN? ✩ S. JAEYUN

( 심재윤 ) ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ dom!nerd!jake ⋆ kissing ⋆ spanking ⋆ oral (f receiving) ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ rough sex ⋆ degradation ⋆ orgasm denial ⋆ edging ⋆ fingering ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ fingers in mouth ⋆ brief choking ⋆ creampie ⋆ mild humiliation : 4145

──── in which ︵ you always thought jake was the shy, inexperienced type; quiet, nerdy, awkwardly innocent compared to you and your chaotic dating life. so when teasing turns into tension during a late-night study session, you expect a hesitant first time at best. instead, jake completely flips the script, leaving you overwhelmed, speechless, and realizing way too late that maybe he was never as innocent as you made him out to be.

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you met jake during your freshman year of college, back when gen eds still had lecture halls packed with hungover students and you were too busy flirting with the guy behind you to pay attention to the syllabus.

jake sat in the front row, always on time, always typing faster than the professor could speak. you didn't talk to him at first. he was quiet, soft-spoken, a little awkward—but sharp as hell, and once you were grouped for a project in psych, you realized he wasn't shy so much as selective. 

you, on the other hand, were loud, social, and unapologetically open about everything—your opinions, your hookups, your weekend party plans. you weren't ashamed of how many people you'd been with. if anything, you liked watching jake blush when you casually mentioned fucking someone in the backseat of their car or getting eaten out in the frat house laundry room. he'd adjust his glasses, press his lips together, and look anywhere but at you.

now, sophomore year, you and jake were close. close enough to hang out late in his dorm with your legs in his lap. close enough to let your jokes get borderline inappropriate. close enough that you thought you knew him. in your mind, jake was textbook virgin material—never talked about sex, never mentioned a body count, always deflected when you asked.

he didn't have a girlfriend, didn't flirt, didn't date. so naturally, you assumed he hadn't gotten around to it yet. maybe he was waiting for someone special. 

maybe he was nervous. maybe he just didn't have the confidence. 

either way, the idea of jake having any real experience never even crossed your mind.

you were very, very wrong.

jake wasn't a man-whore. he wasn't the type to sleep around for sport, and he didn't brag. but he wasn't inexperienced either. 

seven bodies, each one intentional. a handful of casual flings, one almost-relationship, and more than enough practice to know what he was doing. he just didn't feel the need to talk about it—not to anyone. especially not you. not when he could tell how much you liked playing the dominant one in the friendship. you liked teasing him, liked pretending he didn't know anything. and jake? he liked letting you think that.

which brings you to now—sprawled out in his one-person dorm room, papers scattered across his bed, half studying and half talking shit like usual. the desk light is on, casting a soft yellow glow across the room, and the sound of some random playlist hums quietly in the background. you're dressed comfortably—stretchy shorts that ride up every time you shift and a big tee that covers just enough to make it unfair. jake, as always, looks effortless in his nerdy little uniform; black sweatpants that sag a little too low on his hips and a tight, long-sleeve compression shirt that clings to every lean muscle in his upper body.

he's leaning against the wall, long legs stretched out, eyes flicking back and forth between a printout and his notes. you're not paying attention. you haven't been for at least twenty minutes. 

"sooo… i slept with that guy from my art history class,"'you say suddenly, voice light and smug as you stretch out across the mattress.

jake doesn't look up. just hums softly in response, the sound low in his throat. you roll onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him while you talk. 

"he was cute. decent mouth, boring fingers. kinda soft. i had to fake it twice." his pen keeps moving. steady. unaffected. you narrow your eyes. 

"you never tell me about your sex life. like, ever. i could probably name your gpa, your favorite protein bar, and the order of your morning routine, but i have no idea what you're like in bed."

"maybe that's not somethin' you need to know," he says without missing a beat. you scoff, smiling. "so you do have one." jake just shrugs, not even looking at you. and that makes you grin wider.

"what?" you tease. "scared to tell me you're a virgin?" that gets him. not visibly—not in any dramatic way—but his pen pauses for just a second too long. his shoulders stay relaxed, but his eyes finally lift to meet yours. "you think so?" he asks, calm. flat. you nod, teasing lilt in your voice. "one hundred percent positive you're a virgin."

he stares at you. you stare right back. and the tension, usually playful, suddenly shifts.

still light, but dense enough to press against your chest. his lips twitch—not quite a smile, not quite a frown—and then he says it: "wan' see what a virgin can do?" your breath catches. for a second, you think you misheard him. but the look on his face tells you otherwise. he's serious. composed. like this has been sitting in his back pocket for weeks, waiting for you to finally test him hard enough. you lean back, settling against the headboard, raising a brow. "you're serious?"

jake doesn't respond. doesn't need to. he sets his notebook aside, pushes the last of his notes away, and shifts toward you without breaking eye contact. his hands find your hips first—strong, certain—and he pulls you gently, slowly, until you're flat on your back beneath him. his knees settle between your thighs, spreading them slightly as he leans down. your shirt rides up, shorts tugged tight around the tops of your thighs, but jake doesn't even glance down. his eyes stay locked on yours as he dips in, kisses you softly.

you kiss him back, waiting for the awkward tongue or messy pressure, but it doesn't come. it's gentle, yeah, but not unsure. his lips part yours like he knows exactly how he wants to take his time, and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw as he deepens it. it's a kiss that says he's not in a hurry. not at all.

you break the kiss first, smirking as you look up at him. "typical virgin," you mutter. he doesn't react. doesn't even blink. he just lowers his head to your neck, lips brushing softly along your skin. 

"you don't have to be gentle with me, you know," you add, almost challenging. he hums, breath warming the dip beneath your ear. "i know."

you scoff under your breath, cocky and unimpressed. "clearly not…" and that's when he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to make you gasp—hands tightening around your hips like he's just made up his mind. his bite lingers just long enough to leave heat throbbing under your skin, and when he pulls back, his voice is lower than it's ever been.

"y'know," he says, tilting his head, "i've really had enough of the attitude. i think s'time i shut you up, yeah?" your smirk returns instantly. you roll your eyes as if he hasn't just made your heart skip. "you can try, virgin boy."

he doesn't rise to it—not with words, anyway. he just hums. quiet and calm, like he's already halfway to somewhere you can't follow. 

then he moves, pushing off the bed and standing at the edge with that same slow, deliberate control that's suddenly making you nervous. his hands reach out for your hips again and this time, he doesn't pull you gently—he drags you down the mattress until your thighs are hanging just slightly off the edge, knees bent, body sprawled under him like he's setting up a game he's been dying to play.

his voice comes again, firmer now: "ass up." and you listen. you shift to your stomach without a second thought, lifting your hips and arching your back into position, cheek pressed into the sheets. 

you feel the air hit your thighs as your oversized t-shirt rides up, and your breath catches when jake slides your shorts down to your thighs and pauses.

"no panties?" he says, voice dropping further. "been plannin' this, haven't you?" you don't answer. your face is already warm and your body is buzzing, and part of you wants to keep playing it cool—keep pretending this isn’t throwing you off balance.

bad idea.

his palm lands on your ass, fast and loud. the smack makes you jolt and hiss, more from surprise than pain, and he doesn't waste a second before rubbing over the sting with a gentle sweep of his hand. "i asked you a question, didn't i?" he says, calm but sharp.

you swallow and nod. "yeah," you breathe. "been wanting it." he lets out a soft, breathy laugh, one that sounds more like satisfaction than amusement. "mm. such a slut." his knees hit the floor behind you, and the next thing you feel is his hands—wide, steady, practiced—gripping both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart without hesitation.

the room goes quiet except for your breathing and the shift of fabric and skin, and then jake hums again, deep and almost pleased.

"hm. look at that," he murmurs, staring down at your soaked cunt.

"fuckin' drippin' f'me." and then he's leaning in. no warning, no teasing.

his tongue meets you with full intention, licking through your folds and groaning into your skin like he's waited months for this. his hands keep you spread open while he eats—sloppy and slow at first, then precise, mouth focused on your clit until you're grinding back against him in desperation. his tongue drags up and down before circling, sucking, licking again until your arms shake from holding yourself up.

you moan loud enough that it fills the room, and jake doesn't stop. doesn't pause. he just buries his face deeper and lets you cry out, fingers digging into your ass to keep you still. you feel the tip of one finger, then two, slip inside—easing in with a slow stretch that has your mouth falling open, eyes fluttering closed.

he pumps them gently while his tongue stays locked on your clit, and it's all too much, too fast, too good. your stomach tightens and your thighs begin to tremble, that pressure building deep and low—until he pulls away. everything—his mouth, his fingers, his warmth—gone.

you whine before you can stop yourself, pushing back toward him with your hips, but he's already standing up again, towering over you with a fresh edge to his voice.

"aw," he says, feigning sympathy, "you wanted to cum?" you whimper in response, breath shaky. your legs are sticky with slick and your skin's hot all over. he smacks your ass again, harder than before. "use your words like a big girl."

"y-yeah," you stammer, eyes squeezed shut. "please, jake. please…" you hear the shuffle of fabric—his sweatpants sliding down, the low groan that leaves his throat when his dick springs free. your hips twitch involuntarily, needing something to touch, to feel, and then his hand is on your back again, pressing you down into the bed. "stay just like that," he mutters. "don't fuckin' move."

his dick is hot and heavy as he runs it through your slick, dragging the head over your folds, letting it catch against your entrance again and again. he lets out a quiet groan at the wet sound it makes, then finally—finally—he presses in. not soft. not gentle. he sinks into you in one rough thrust, and your mouth drops open with a strangled moan.

he's big, thick, filling you all at once without a single pause to let you adjust. your hips jerk forward from the force of it, knees nearly slipping on the sheets, and jake groans behind you—low and filthy, like he's been holding back all night.

he doesn't move. just holds there, deep inside, his palm still planted on the small of your back. "still a virgin?" he asks, voice thick. you try to speak—try to throw another jab, keep the upper hand—but all that comes out is a broken moan. you manage half the sentence: "yeah, you're s-still a virg—" and he pulls out halfway, then slams back in. you cry out, thighs shaking, arms barely keeping you upright.

"since you wan' be a lil fuckin' brat," jake mutters, hips still, dick buried to the base, "you'll do the work yourself." 

you whine, low and desperate, hips squirming in his grip like you're trying to retreat—but there's nowhere to go. he's still buried inside you, thick and unyielding, his palm pressed to the small of your back keeping you locked in place. you feel every inch of him, the stretch still fresh and sharp, your walls fluttering around his dick as your body tries to adjust. it's overwhelming. too full, too deep, too sudden. you shift slightly, trying to roll your hips to find some kind of rhythm, some relief—but jake doesn't move. doesn't help. he just stands there behind you, breathing heavy, watching.

"what're you waitin' for?" he says after a moment, voice flat and laced with quiet challenge. "go on. do the work. this is what you wanted, right?" you turn your head against the mattress, eyes half-lidded and lips parted as you suck in a shaky breath. you want to mouth off—want to say something smug, something cocky, keep the upper hand—but your body betrays you. your thighs tremble when you start to move, back arching deeper as you pull forward slightly, then push back onto him in a slow, testing grind.

the stretch is brutal, even with how wet you are. his dick drags against every sensitive spot inside you as you try to fuck yourself on him, try to show him you can handle it. you do it again, a little faster, trying to establish a rhythm. it's messy and uneven, but it's something. your hands claw at the sheets as you rock back again, your ass slapping softly against his pelvis.

"mm, yeah," jake hums above you, his hand sliding from your lower back to your hip, fingers digging into the flesh there as he watches you fuck yourself on his dick. "that's what i thought." you don't answer.

your breath comes out in gasps, each roll of your hips making it harder to think. you're doing exactly what he told you to, but it's not enough. not really. your pace starts to falter after a few minutes, your thighs burning and your arms weakening beneath you, and jake notices. he can feel it—the way your movements slow, the way you sink lower into the mattress with each tired thrust. and instead of helping you, instead of rewarding the effort, he tsks under his breath like he's disappointed.

"already gettin' tired?" he mutters. "but you were talkin' all that shit earlier, weren't you?" you start to whimper, hips stuttering as you try to keep going, but he cuts you off with another sharp smack to your ass—this one harder than the rest. your body jolts forward with the impact, a moan ripping from your throat as your walls clench around him involuntarily.

"pathetic," jake says, his tone flat but dripping in mockery. 

"thought you could handle a 'virgin,' right? what happened to all that attitude, huh?" you try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a garbled sound—a half-broken sob against the sheets. your body feels hot all over, skin tingling, your cunt aching and tight around him. you need him to move. need him to do something.

he leans forward without warning, his chest brushing your back as his hand slides up your spine and tangles in your hair. he grips it tight, forcing your head back just enough so your cheek lifts from the mattress, and his other hand reaches around, fingers prying at your lips until two of them slip into your mouth. "open," he says, voice low and steady. "tongue out."

you obey instantly, tongue pressing against his fingers as he slides them deeper, thumb flattening on your tongue while the others rest inside your mouth. it's filthy. controlling. it leaves you drooling onto the sheets as your mouth stretches around him, throat vibrating with every sound you try to make. you moan around his fingers when he finally starts to move behind you—slow, grinding thrusts that feel impossibly deep with the way he angles his hips down. 

each push forward punches a breath out of your lungs, and every retreat makes you cry for more.

"mm," jake groans behind you, his voice closer now, his hips pressing harder. "fuckin' tight. y'feel that, baby? feel how good you grip me?" you moan again, louder this time, and he just pushes his fingers down harder on your tongue to shut you up. your eyes roll back, body twitching as he begins to thrust harder, rougher, fucking you like he's trying to prove a point. his hand on your hip keeps you steady, dragging you back to meet every slam of his dick, the sound of skin against skin echoing off the walls of his tiny dorm. your thighs shake uncontrollably now, and you're practically drooling around his fingers as your body starts to break apart beneath him.

"yeah?" he pants, voice ragged with effort. "feels so good, doesn't it, baby? this what you needed? needed me deep inside you? thrusting into you all rough like that?" all you can do is sob—no real words, just broken, desperate sounds as your body trembles under the force of it all. your pussy flutters around him, tight and wet and throbbing, and jake groans deep in his chest when he feels it.

"i know, baby," he murmurs. "i know."

he pulls his fingers from your mouth and lets them trail down your chin, your spit glistening on your skin. his hand finds your throat next—not squeezing, just resting there, heavy and warm—as he keeps fucking into you at a punishing pace. you're so far gone you can't tell where your body ends and his begins, your vision blurred and your mind clouded with heat and sound and scent. his dick is so deep it feels like he's splitting you in half, like you'll never be able to think straight again without remembering what this felt like.

you thought you could handle him.

you thought he was soft.

you thought he was a virgin.

you were so, so wrong.

you don't know when your moans turn into full blown cries—somewhere between his dick slamming deep inside you and the sharp press of his hand around your throat, your body crosses a line. your legs aren't just shaking now—they're folding under you. your arms gave up minutes ago, chest collapsed into the mattress, spine arched in a perfect curve while he keeps holding you in place like he owns you. your mouth is open, your eyes squeezed shut, and everything feels tight and slick and heavy, like your body's been split into pieces and jake is the only one holding them together.

he's breathing hard now, jaw clenched above you as he fucks into you like he's possessed—deep, brutal thrusts that make your whole body jerk with each impact. his grip on your hip is so tight it might bruise. his palm slides from your throat to your jaw, forcing your face to the side so he can see the mess you've become. your spit's on your chin, your mascara smudged, and there's a thin sheen of sweat sticking your shirt to your back. he doesn't say anything for a moment. just watches. breathes. thrusts.

and then, low and clear in your ear: "you still think m'a fuckin' virgin?" you try to shake your head, but it's weak, barely a twitch. 

your voice comes out as a slurred moan—something like no, but not quite human. "mm. that's what i thought," he murmurs, voice dark with satisfaction. "you run your mouth like a brat, but look at you now—barely takin' me, gettin' ready to tap out."

you feel his hand slide down, fingers slipping between your legs until they find your clit again—sensitive, swollen, already throbbing from being teased. the second he touches you there, you cry out, body jolting in overstimulation. "you close?" he asks, like it's casual. like he doesn't already know the answer from the way your cunt clenches around him every time he grinds against your sweet spot.

you nod frantically, almost sobbing. "yes, yes, please—" but it's too easy. he pulls his fingers away. slows his thrusts to an agonizing roll of his hips, dragging his dick out slowly before snapping back in hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. "yeah, no," he mutters. "not yet."

“jake,” you sob, back arching, toes curling into the sheets. "please—"

"should've thought about that before you ran your fuckin' mouth," he snaps, and suddenly the rhythm picks back up again. he fucks into you harder this time, like punishing you for every word you've said since the moment you walked into his room. "call me 'virgin boy' again. go on. say it."

you're incoherent. your lips move, but the only thing you can manage is a gasp, a plea, your hands grabbing at the blankets like they might save you. he laughs. fucking laughs. low and mean. "yeah. not so mouthy now, are you?" his fingers return to your clit, fast and rough, rubbing tight circles that make your hips buck against his. you're begging without words now, just high, desperate noises, whimpering into the mattress as your orgasm coils tighter and tighter until you're seconds away from snapping—and again, he stops.

you whine, full-body shaking, face crumpling against the sheets. you're soaked. trembling. ruined. “jake,” you cry, voice raw. 

"please. i-i can't—" he grabs your hair again, pulls your head up so your ear is near his mouth. "yes you can," he says, cruel but quiet. 

"you wanted this to happen, you begged for this to happen, so now you have no other choice but to take it."

then he pushes your face back down. hand back on your hip. cock slamming into you again like he's trying to make you forget your own name. every thrust punches another moan out of you, rough and desperate, your body grinding into the mattress, thighs soaked and shaking as he gives you no space to recover. no escape. just him. inside you. everywhere.

"gonna cum," you choke out, voice high and broken. "go ahead," he says, voice thick with arousal. "cum all over my fuckin' dick, mama." and you do. hard. your whole body seizes under him, every nerve on fire, pussy clenching so tight around him that he groans—loud and deep—like the sound gets dragged out of him from somewhere in his chest.

your orgasm crashes over you in waves, dizzying and uncontrollable, your cries muffled by the sheets, thighs twitching violently as you come harder than you ever have in your life.

"fuck—there you go," jake grits through his teeth. "just like that. look so fuckin' good when you fall apart." he doesn't stop. he keeps fucking you through it, deep and relentless, using your spasming cunt to chase his own high. he's not even trying to hold back now—his grip turns bruising, his breathing ragged, dick slamming into you at a brutal pace until you're crying all over again.

"shit—gonna—" jake cuts himself off with a groan, then slams into you one last time and holds there, buried deep, his dick twitching as he spills inside you. the heat of it floods your already-sensitive body, and all you can do is moan, breathless and wrecked. jake stays still for a few seconds, head tipped back, chest rising and falling as he comes down from it.

then he slowly pulls out, careful with your oversensitive body, your hips jerking as his dick leaves you. his cum leaks down your thighs almost immediately, and you can barely move. your body is limp, shaking, forehead pressed into the sheets as you gasp for air. he bends over you, fingers brushing your lower back, light now. 

reverent. "you okay?" he whispers, voice softer again. real.

you nod weakly, and he presses a kiss to your spine. then another to your shoulder. and finally one to the base of your neck, right where he bit you earlier—like sealing it. like claiming it. you don’t say anything for a while. you don't need to.

he already proved everything he needed to.

© 2026 LOVECVREXX. please do not repost / claim my work is yours.

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[jaysbaefie]

the pushover | sjy

synopsis: in which jake sim finally stops letting you run the show—only to prove he’s always known how to handle you.

genre: childhood best friends au

pairing: childhood best friend!jake x bratty!reader

warnings: softdom!jake, bratty!reader, reader is so annoying but jake loves it, cornering, bantering, jake scolds reader often, jake is in loveeee, manhandling, spanking ass + pussy, oral (f.rec), spit play, tit play, unprotected p in v, clit play, biting..i think that’s it??

wc: 16.5k+

a/n: ayeee guess who’s back! this fic won on the poll so here i am delivering. this is also my 3k followers thank you post hehe!! thanks to each and every one of you guys that have been reading and supporting my work 😘 keep an eye out i’ll be putting out another pole soon. as always comments, notes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy reading :3

𓂃

you and jake sim grew up three houses apart on a street where everybody's moms knew everything and everybody's dads pretended they didn't. you were the loud one—the kid who rang doorbells like you were collecting taxes, who demanded attention with the confidence of someone who'd never been told no.

which you hadn't.

meanwhile jake... poor jake. he was the sweet, soft-spoken boy who trailed after you like a golden retriever with a bowl cut and velcro spiderman sneakers. he always had crumbs on his face, always carried your backpack without being asked, and always—always—laughed at your jokes, even when they weren't funny.

they were rarely funny.

you'd yell his name across the street, and he'd come running. you'd shove the glittery lip gloss you stole from your cousin into his hand and say "hold this," and he would. you'd call him "my assistant" during your bossy childhood games, and he accepted the demotion.

once, you made him cry because he didn't run fast enough during tag. you didn't apologize—instead you loudly declared, "omg, relax, you got tagged ONCE. big deal."

jake sniffled, you stomped away. and five minutes later he followed you again, because that's just how he was.

but somewhere around the end of high school, the world started pulling you in different directions. you were busy being dramatic, discovering tinted lip oils, complaining about your parents rules, and posting instagram stories from the passenger seat of other people's cars.

jake was busy doing things like... assignments. group projects. extracurriculars. things you mockingly called "nerd behavior."

he didn't go out much. he didn't chase chaos. he didn't orbit your life the way he did when you were younger. and you—in a classic act of emotional immaturity—pretended not to care.

at eighteen, you chose a college far away purely because the campus looked "aesthetic in fall," packed up your entire personality into two suitcases, and left without saying a proper goodbye. you waved at jake from the car window as your mom pulled out of the driveway and yelled something ridiculous like:

"don't let anyone bully you except me!"

he laughed. that soft, warm, dimpled laugh that used to follow you everywhere.

and then you were gone.

𓂃

college turned you into an even worse version of yourself—aggressively iced-coffee-dependent, chronically late, allergic to responsibility, and thriving in an environment where chaos was practically currency.

your life became a rotation of parties, spontaneous shopping, soft-launching people you weren't even dating, and pretending every bad decision was "character development."

you went through roommates like seasonal flavors. every semester someone new moved in, and every semester someone new moved out with a complaint that you were "a lot" or "messy" or "kind of terrifying when woken up."

you didn't disagree.

jake became a distant memory, the boy who sometimes liked your posts from an account with a profile picture you swear was five years old. you'd smile for half a second when his username popped up, then go right back to ignoring three overdue essays and online shopping for shoes you absolutely didn't need.

your worlds didn't touch anymore.

until life, rude as always, decided to intervene

it started with your roommate announcing she was "basically moving in" her new boyfriend. you thought she meant he'd be around more. no, he was actually moving in. toothbrush, clothes, gaming chair, ugly LED lights—the whole infestation.

he hogged the bathroom. he cooked shirtless at inappropriate hours. he once ate your leftover pasta and shrugged, "it was mid anyway."

you saw red. you didn't commit a crime, but it was close.

you decided to move out.

your landlord, a man whose personality could best be described as "human expired raisin," decided this was the perfect time to raise your rent by five hundred dollars.

you stared at the email. then you screamed. not a cute scream—a guttural, operatic wail that made the downstairs neighbor bang on their ceiling.

you called your mom, pacing through the disaster zone that was your half-packed room.

"i'm going to die," you said dramatically. "i'm literally going to die. you're going to have to identify my body by my lash extensions."

your mom sighed the sigh of someone who'd raised you for twenty-three years. "sweetheart, calm down—"

"don't tell me to calm down, my life is in ruins. ruins, mother."

"you're not in ruins."

"i'm going to be homeless."

"you're not going to be homeless."

"i'm going to have to live in my car—"

"oh honey," she cut in, "why don't you stay with jake?"

you froze mid-rant. "...jake?" his name unfamiliar on your tongue.

"yes! jake sim! he's back from finishing his degree. he bought a nice apartment downtown. he told his mother he has a spare room."

you stared into space, horrified. "jake sim? bowl-cut jake? used-to-cry-when-i-yelled jake?"

"he didn't cry," she corrected. "he teared up. once."

"mom. be serious."

"i am. you two were inseparable."

"when we were twelve!"

"well, he's always liked you."

"as a person?" you asked skeptically. you seriously doubted that anyone who was sane liked you as a person. yes, you're a lot of things but one thing you definitely are is self aware.

she made a vague noise, you didn't like the noise.

"i'll text his mother," she decided, and you instantly regretted calling her.

two minutes later, your phone buzzed.

mom: jake says you're welcome to stay anytime.

you stared at the text. it felt unreal. absurd. borderline comedic.

but you were desperate. and dramatic. and the universe clearly hated you.

so you said yes. because of course you did.

you packed your things with the confidence of someone who absolutely believed jake sim was still the same soft, shy, easily-managed boy who used to trail after you in elementary school.

you were so, so sure.

and you were so, so wrong.

𓂃

you hype yourself up in the elevator.

it's just jake.you think to yourself, the image of 12-year old him fresh in your mind.

you've known him your whole life. he once cried because you told him clouds were solid and he fell off the playground trying to "sit on one."

you are not nervous. you are annoyed.

annoyed that your lease fell apart. annoyed that your mother thinks you're still friends. annoyed that jake, sweet, soft, bowl-cut jake, is your only housing option unless you want to sleep in your car.

the elevator dings.

you're ready to see scented-candle bachelor hell. dirty laundry. possibly raccoons.

you knock and the door swings open. and your soul leaves your body.

because the man standing there is definitely jake—but upgraded. taller, broader, stupidly handsome, and sporting a smile that used to be pure golden retriever sunshine. except now it's... toned down. slower. like he knows exactly what it does to people.

"hey," he says, his eyes dropping down to take in your form and your hot pink suitcases. "come in."

come in? come in? no shocked gasp? no "wow you're back"? no nervous babbling?

you narrow your eyes suspiciously. "wow. no bowl cut." you admit, not the best choice of first words to say to your childhood best friend who you hadn't seen in years. but it was fitting.

he laughs—actually laughs—and steps aside. and you walk into the biggest personal betrayal of your adult life.

his apartment is spotless.

not "i cleaned because company is coming" clean. "i am a fully functioning adult who alphabetizes spices" clean.

the air smells like sandalwood and laundry detergent. plants sit by the window like they've never known suffering. there are no pizza boxes, no dirty plates, no gamer chair.

this is not jake's apartment.

"is this staged?" you demand. "did someone professionally sanitize this because you knew i was coming?"

"nope," he says, grabbing one of your suitcases. "i live like this."

you blink owlishly. "on purpose?"

he snorts, looking at you with an unidentifiable expression on his face. "on purpose."

you want to throw something, no, you want to throw up.

but instead, you drop your bag on the couch like an entitled raccoon and flop dramatically across it. "i'm making myself at home."

he glances at your shoes on the carpet. "i can see that."

he takes a seat in the armchair across from you— calm, collected, not even a little frazzled— which is insane, because you're very clearly being a handful on purpose. you call that, asserting dominance. like the old days.

you clear your throat. "so. rules. house agreements. i assume you're gonna ask me to clean something? or, like... wash a dish? or close a cabinet? if so, i'll need written notice."

jake smiles. not the "aww she's being annoying again" smile you expect. no, this one is deeper. amused. knowing.

"sure," he says easily. "we can talk rules."

that throws you off. he's supposed to be flustered, scrambling to keep up. not leading the conversation like he owns the apartment—which, annoying fact, he does.

he leans back, forearms resting casually on his knees. your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you notice how veiny his hands and arms were.

"okay," he starts, "rent is six-fifty a month. i already talked to your mom about it—she said she'd help out until you get settled again."

you cough on pure embarrassment. "she did what?"

he suppresses a grin. "it was cute, actually. she kept saying, 'jake honey, please don't let her be homeless, she can be... a lot.'"

you sit up. "i will literally burn my house down before i let you repeat anything my mother said about me."

"her words, not mine," he says, holding up his hands. his beautiful, god crafted, veiny hands. "anyway—utilities included. chores are pretty simple. i cook, so you can take trash and recycling. laundry we do separately. shared spaces stay clean."

"define clean."

"not a biohazard."

"rude."

"accurate."

you throw a pillow at his head. he catches it one-handed without breaking eye contact.

you actually stop breathing for a second.

since when can jake do that? since when is he coordinated? since when does he have forearms like that?

you scowl to cover the fact that your brain just short-circuited. "fine. anything else?"

he tilts his head. "yeah. don't steal my hoodies." you blink innocently. "why would i steal your hoodies?"

his gaze drops to your suitcase—where three of his old ones that you had 'borrowed' back in highschool are hanging out the side. proof that you struggled to pack all your belongings in two measly suitcases.

traitors.

"uh-huh," he says. "point is, don't steal them."

"i don't steal," you lie.

"you do."

"i borrow."

"indefinitely." you cross your arms. "well, maybe if you didn't buy hoodies that look good on me—"

"they look good on me," he corrects smoothly. "you're just annoying enough to steal them."

you're going to scream.

you stand, stalking toward the kitchen just to regain power. "i'm eating your snacks as payment for emotional damages."

he follows at a leisurely pace, because apparently he's immune to your chaos now. you yank open the fridge. it's organized. color-coded. there are vegetables.

"who are you?" you whisper, horrified. "where is the boy who ate a fruit roll-up off the sidewalk?"

"buried him," jake answers, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to you. "grew up. got a job. graduated. learned to mop."

you squint at him. "did you join a cult?"

he laughs again—warm and low. "no. i just stopped being twelve."

"you were twelve for like ten years."

"and you're still twelve," he shoots back calmly. "so at least one of us stayed consistent."

you gape. "you're so— so—"

"accurate?"

"i was gonna say insufferable."

he leans on the counter across from you, arms folded, gaze steady.

"you were expecting me to be exactly the same, weren't you?"

you freeze. he's right. he knows he's right and you hate that he knows he's right.

before you can respond, he adds—lightly, but with something underneath, "don't worry. i still remember everything."

your heartbeat trips.

"everything?" you repeat.

he smiles. slow. devastating. "everything."

you look away first. you hate that too.

you grab chips from the pantry—loudly, aggressively—and announce, "i'm gonna walk around in tiny shorts and leave my stuff everywhere."

"go for it," jake says, opening a cabinet above your head to grab a mug. "i don't scare that easily."

"i wasn't trying to scare you!"

"sure."

"i wasn't—!"

he takes a sip of water like he didn't just psychologically annihilate you.

you feel your face heat. you hate him. you hate that he's changed. you hate that he hasn't changed in the ways that matter. you hate that he's taller and calm and unbothered and smells like pine and laundry and maybe a little bit like heartbreak.

and you really hate the traitorous thought sneaking into your brain: you might be in trouble.

after the unexpected back forth between you and jake, jake kindly showed you to your room which was much nicer than the one at your old apartment.

"i'll let you settle in, i'll be back in a few. gym." and with that he slips through the door and out of your sight.

since when did he go to the gym? since those veiny arms blessed your sight.

you huff while unpacking, taking in the clean space as a foreign feeling takes place in your chest.

what the fuck are you going to do?

𓂃

you hear the door before you see him.

a heavy, warm thud of sneakers hitting the entry rug. the quiet clink of keys. then the low, tired exhale of a man who just returned from the gym and doesn't realize he's about to emotionally ruin someone.

you peek over the couch. and yeah, he's sweaty.

like—sweat running down his neck, shirt stuck to his chest, hair pushed back with a damp curl kind of sweaty.

your brain forgets basic motor functions. he looks up and catches you staring, a unrecognizable glint in his soft eyes. 

"hey," he says, voice rougher than usual. "you're still awake?" awake? you're clinically deceased, but sure.

you sit up, flipping your hair like you didn't just get jump-scared by his forearms. "yeah. couldn't sleep. your... stomping woke me up."

"i didn't stomp," he says, amused. "i walked in."

"well it was loud."

"you were watching tiktoks on full volume."

you glare, chucking your phone on the other couch. "stop knowing things."

he smirks and heads to the kitchen for water, pulling his shirt up to wipe his face.

you get a full view of toned stomach. abs. v-line. you stop breathing somewhere around ab #3.

okay. enough. you're not going to let him win tonight. this morning he made you flustered. tonight? you're fighting back.

you hop off the couch and follow him to the kitchen, wearing the tiniest sleep shorts you own and his hoodie—you know, for psychological warfare.

"so," you announce, hopping onto the counter, crossing your legs slowly. "long workout? you look... tired."

he opens the fridge. "yeah. leg day."

you hum. "maybe you should let me massage them. you know. as a housewarming gift."

he doesn't choke. he doesn't blush. he just closes the fridge, sets down the water bottle, and looks at you with that infuriating, slow-lingering gaze that makes your stomach flip like a dying fish.

"you wanna massage my legs?" he asks softly, his brow quirking up before his gaze drops down to your bare legs and your small frame which was swallowed by his hoodie.

your throat closes. "i— i mean— maybe— if you—"

he takes a step closer. then another. until he's right in front of you, standing between your knees, but not touching you. not even a brush of skin. just close enough that you swear you can feel the heat rolling off him.

your brain: DEAD. ABSOLUTELY GONE.

he places his hands on the counter on either side of your hips, caging you in—without touching you once.

your breath catches. everything in you goes still.

"you offering charity massages now?" he murmurs, eyes dropping briefly to your mouth. "that doesn't sound like you."

your voice cracks. "why not?"

"you don't do things out of kindness." his tone is teasing, warm. "you do things because you want attention."

your entire nervous system sets on fire.

"i— excuse— i don't—"

"it's okay," he continues, leaning just an inch closer, his nose almost brushing yours. "i don't mind giving you the attention."

you swallow hard. "move."

"you sure?" he asks quietly. "you seem pretty comfortable."

you are not comfortable. you are a molecule vibrating out of your own skin.

you shove a hand at his chest—bad idea, he's solid—and babble stupidly, "i'm fine. you're weird. stop being tall at me."

jake laughs under his breath. it's warm. dangerous. affectionate in a way that makes your stomach curl.

he leans in like he might actually touch your cheek, lips, something and you freeze. but he doesn't. at the last second, he dips his head past yours and reaches behind you to grab a mug from the cabinet above.

you nearly scream. he pulls back slowly, the corner of his mouth tilted in a knowing smirk.

"relax," he says softly. "if i actually cornered you, you'd combust."

you glare at him, cheeks on fire. "i hate you."

"no you don't." he taps your knee with a finger, the only touch, light, teasing, devastating. "but you can keep pretending."

you nearly fall off the counter trying to escape.

he watches, amused, taking a sip of water like he didn't just send you through all five stages of grief.

"goodnight," he says casually, heading to his room.

you stare after him, emotionally damaged.

"i'm not massaging your stupid legs!" you call out.

his voice drifts back, "you offered."

you bury your face in your hands. you are so, so screwed.

𓂃

you wake up to the smell of something heavenly.

warm. buttery. slightly sweet.

you blink at the ceiling.

no way. no way jake is up early being...competent.

you stomp down the hall dramatically, ready to insult him for being a functional adult at 8:12 a.m.

and you freeze. because jake is shirtless. shirtless. in his kitchen. your now shared kitchen.

his back muscles shift as he flips pancakes. his sweatpants hang low. his hair is messy in the exact way that suggests he just rolled out of bed and looked inhumanly good by accident.

you forget why you entered the kitchen. or how to inhale.

he glances over his shoulder. "morning."

the audacity. “you—" your voice cracks. "you're— you're not wearing clothes."

he looks down, confused. "i'm wearing pants."

"that's not the point!"

"sounds like it is."

you hate him. you hate him so much your eye twitches. he plates a pancake and nods toward the stove. "there's extra batter if you want to make your own."

you puff up, offended. "i CAN cook."

jake raises an eyebrow. "do you want to say that again? slowly?"

you march to the fridge, grab random ingredients you probably won't need, and announce, "watch and learn."

"i'm watching." his voice is annoyingly amused. "not sure i'll be learning."

you ignore him, crank the stove on too high, and pour way too much batter in the pan. it spreads like a sad, beige puddle.

jake strolls over, sipping coffee, watching like he's observing wildlife.

"that's... thick," he comments.

"it's called fluffy," you snap back, your eyes finding his before dropping down to his chest and stomach. oh god why did you do that? jake catches your vision, a smirk playing on his lips.

fuck you.

"oh. okay. it's very... fluffy."

"shut up."

the pancake starts smoking aggressively. you start panicking aggressively.

"um— is it supposed to—"

WHOOSH.

flame kisses the edge of the pan. you shriek. "OH MY GOD—" jake moves instantly, reaching past you to turn down the burner.

and suddenly—he's right behind you. his chest against your back. his arms braced around you as he grabs the pan. his voice low, right by your ear, "hey. relax. i got it."

your brain vacates the premises.

his hands move with confidence, fixing your disaster pancake. his breath brushes your neck. he's close—too close—and yet he's acting like this is normal.

"you're gonna start a fire," he says softly, almost teasing.

"i— i didn't— the burner— your stove is— i— shut up," you whisper, mortified.

he laughs quietly, the sound warm against your skin.

"you're cute when you panic," he murmurs, not moving away. you seize up when you feel his warm breath brush against the shell of your ear, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

you clutch the counter for emotional support. "can you—can you back up?"

"why?" his tone is innocent. way too innocent. "you seemed fine last night when i was close."

you almost combust like the pancake.

"that was different!"

"how?" he asks, dipping his head just enough that you feel the brush of his hair against your cheek.

you have no good answer. because the truth is humiliating, last night you were flustered. now you're flustered and underprepared and wearing pajama shorts shaped like licorice strings.

you grab a spatula and use it like a weapon to push him away.

"move," you hiss, your face burning red.

he steps back, hands up, grinning like a menace. "yes, chef."

"don't call me chef."

"okay. fire hazard."

"JAKE."

he laughs a full, bright laugh that makes your stomach twist and heads back to his own plate. you plate your uneven, charred pancake with defeated silence.

and jake, the infuriating man, sets another golden, perfectly round pancake onto your plate.

you blink. "what's this?"

"a real breakfast," he says, pouring syrup for you like you're a child. "because you nearly burned the apartment down trying to prove a point."

you glare at him. "i was doing FINE."

"sure," he hums. "and i'm a ballerina."

you stab your pancake.

he watches you with that soft, amused smile again—the one with something deeper behind it.

then he adds, "you know... it's kind of nice having you here."

your fork slips out of your hand. "...what?" like you had said earlier, you're a lot of things but one thing you definitely are is self aware. you are not nice to have around, and you know it.

he shrugs, easy. "just saying."

you stare at him, face warming in a way you refuse to acknowledge. you mumble into your syrup, "i hate you."

he smiles, slow and knowing. "no you don't."

and the worst part? he's right.

the first week in jake's apartment goes... fine. dangerously fine.

it should've been easy to fall back into the old dynamic: you, the bossy menace; him, the soft puppy trailing after you with a shy smile and an unlimited tolerance for your nonsense.

except—he doesn't trail. he doesn't melt. he doesn't fold. and that pisses you off more than you'd ever admit.

the chaos starts small.

your makeup begins multiplying across the bathroom counter like it's staging a coup. lip glosses in a neat little line beside his toothbrush; your setting spray sitting directly in front of his razor; your glitter eyeshadow palette open—because closing it would've taken effort, obviously.

jake doesn't complain. he doesn't even sigh.

he just walks in one morning, towels slung over his shoulder, hair damp from the gym, and pauses at the counter.

"is this all yours?" he asks.

you don't look up from your phone. "hm? oh. yeah. i need space. don't be selfish."

jake nods slowly, like he's taking notes on you for a research study. "right. selfish. of course."

you ignore the way that makes your stomach twist.

you up the ante. you start asking—no, demanding—rides.

"jake," you call from your bedroom one morning, "can you take me to get coffee?"

"there's a café two blocks away," he says, leaning on your doorframe, wet hair dripping onto his hoodie.

you gasp like he's suggested you walk barefoot through snow. "that's uphill."

"slightly."

"jake. it's morning. i'm fragile."

he snorts and tosses you his car keys. "fine. you drive."

you blink at him like he had grown a second head. "i was... i was asking you to take me."

"yeah," he says, already walking away, "and i'm telling you to take yourself."

you stare at the keys like they've personally insulted you.

then there's the pizza incident. you take the last slice. obviously. you don't even feel bad. you're sitting on the couch when he walks in, box in hand, looking for the missing piece.

he lifts an eyebrow—that stupid, infuriatingly calm eyebrow—and glances at the empty plate on your lap.

"you didn't eat the last slice, did you?"

"no," you say immediately, even though the evidence is literally smeared on your mouth.

he looks at you. really looks. slowly. knowingly. lips tugging upward. "right," he says softly. "of course you didn't."

then he reaches forward, thumb hovering near the corner of your mouth—not touching, but close enough that the heat of him brushes your skin.

your body locks up.

his voice drops, warm and amused, "you've got sauce right here."

you nearly stop breathing. and then he pulls back, smiling like nothing happened.

you want to strangle him. or kiss him. or both.

but it's the blanket situation that finally pushes you over the edge.

his blankets are better. obviously they are. he's responsible and orderly and uses fabric softener. you're a tired disaster with a credit card.

so you drag his nicest throw blanket into your room one night without asking.

in the morning, he finds you on the couch wrapped in it like a human burrito, scrolling through your phone.

he laughs—this low, warm sound that makes something traitorous flutter in your chest.

"you know," he says, "you have blankets."

"yeah but yours are... softer."

he tilts his head, walking behind the couch. "so your solution was theft?"

"i don't see you complaining."

"i'm not complaining." he leans down behind you, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath by your ear. "i'm just observing."

you freeze. again. you're starting to hate how often that happens.

"why're you so jumpy?" he murmurs, voice like honey.

"shut up," you whisper.

he only chuckles, watching your face turn a pretty shade of pink.

and then comes the night you push too far.

you're irritated for no real reason—maybe because he didn't react the way you wanted, maybe because he's not the boy you expected, maybe because his quiet confidence does something to you you can't explain.

you snap at him. something stupid. something about the air conditioner and his "stupid, organized, obsessive thermostat rules."

he's standing in the kitchen drying dishes when you say it. you expect him to fold, apologize, let you roll over him like you always have.

instead—he sets the plate down. slowly. carefully. like he's placing a piece in a chess game he's already winning.

then he turns and walks toward you. the air changes, it thickens, until you swear you can feel it press against your skin.

you retreat one step, he follows. you bump lightly into the counter. he doesn't touch you. he doesn't need to.

he braces one hand on the counter beside your hip, leaning in just enough that your heart slams painfully against your ribs.

his voice is warm, but the firmness beneath it is unmistakable. "don't talk to me like that."

heat crawls up your neck, "i wasn't— i didn't—"

"no," he says, soft and steady, "you did."

his eyes flick down to your lips for half a second—half a heartbeat—before meeting your eyes again.

"i let you get away with that stuff when we were kids," he continues. "but i'm not that guy anymore."

your pulse stutters. his face is close enough that you see the gold flecks in his eyes. "you don't get to talk to me like that," he says.

a beat.

"not anymore."

you swallow so hard it hurts. you open your mouth—to apologize, to argue, you're not sure—but nothing comes out.

jake watches you, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. not cruel. not mocking. just... knowing. then, gently, he pushes off the counter and steps back.

"good," he murmurs, turning away to finish the dishes. "i'm glad we understand each other."

you stand there, dizzy, cheeks burning, knees genuinely weak. you've never shut up so fast in your entire life.

and you hate—absolutely hate—how much you liked it.

𓂃

you don't realize when it starts.

or maybe you do, and you're just pretending you don't, because acknowledging it would mean admitting something absolutely unacceptable: that jake sim—golden retriever, former bowl-cut disaster, childhood doormat—is becoming the gravitational pull of your entire stupid life.

and you hate that.

you REALLY hate that.

it happens on a friday night.

you're out with a few friends—the fun, chaotic ones who think your bratty personality is "endearing" and "so girlboss of you." you're half-done a drink, leaning over the bar to talk to some tall, kind-of-cute guy who'd been eyeing you for the last ten minutes.

he's laughing at your jokes. you're flipping your hair and pretending you're not checking your reflection in the chrome beer tap.

it's going great.

until you hear the voice that's been in your dreams for the last few months, "hey."

you don't even have to turn around. your stomach recognizes his voice before your brain does.

jake.

you freeze, hand still hovering mid-gesture, and the guy in front of you lifts a curious eyebrow.

the asshole actually smiles at jake when he approaches, like they're suddenly in a friendly competition he's about to lose without knowing why.

jake leans against the bar beside you like he's been invited, like he belongs there—tall, warm, annoyingly good-smelling. his hand is on the small of your back, not touching, but close enough that you feel heat radiating through your shirt.

you hate that your heart triple-flips.

"hey," you say, pretending not to care, though your voice is a little too high. "what are you doing here?"

jake shrugs lightly. his eyes flick once—just once —to the guy you were flirting with. "came to pick you up."

"i didn't ask you to."

"your phone's dead."

you blink. you check your phone...your phone is, in fact, dead.

god, that's so annoying.

the cute guy clears his throat. "you two... know each other?"

before you can answer, jake does, with the most harmless, friendly voice you've ever heard, "yeah. she lives with me."

the guy's smile collapses.

your jaw drops. "jake—that's not—"

"roommates," he adds, finally throwing you a look that says better? but it's too late. the guy is already pulling back, suddenly very uninterested in continuing the conversation with a girl who apparently has a six-foot wall of muscle as a roommate.

"he's just—he's exaggerating," you say desperately, but the guy is already lifting his drink in a goodbye gesture. "nice meeting you," he says—to jake. not you.

he leaves. just like that.

you whirl on jake. "what the hell was that?"

jake looks genuinely confused. "what was what?"

"you—you scared him off!"

"i didn't do anything." his voice is maddeningly calm.

you shove his arm. it does nothing except hurt your hand a little. "you know what you did."

jake tilts his head, pretending to think, then steps closer, way closer, bending slightly so his face is level with yours. "if he got scared because i exist, maybe he wasn't that interested."

"you're insufferable."

"you're welcome for the ride home," he says, smiling like the world's sweetest problem.

you want to push him again.

you also want to grab him by the stupid lapel of his stupid jacket and kiss him until he can't talk like that anymore.

it's infuriating.

and it keeps happening.

you're out for brunch with friends and jake drops by to hand you the cardigan you "accidentally" stole again and suddenly the guy who'd been trying to get your number excuses himself.

you're buying ice cream at a street vendor, jake appears behind you because he was "in the neighborhood," and the guy working the cart instantly stops flirting with you mid-sentence.

you're at the bookstore, a cute grad student is recommending a title, and the moment jake walks up beside you to say, "hey, thought you wanted that coffee?" the grad student's smile just... dies.

every time, jake acts like he has no idea why.

every time, you want to scream.

one evening, you're sitting on the couch scrolling, pretending not to watch the clock, wondering when he's going to get home.

you hate that you miss him. you hate that his absence feels like silence filling the apartment too heavily.

the door unlocks. your heart jumps. you immediately scowl at yourself.

he steps in—hair messy from the wind, gym bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a fitted hoodie that absolutely shouldn't fit him that well.

"you're late," you snap, even though he isn't.

jake lifts a brow. "didn't know i had a curfew."

you huff. "whatever."

but he's already walking past you, and your eyes, traitors, follow him. the way his shoulders move. the way he reaches up to put his keys on the hook. the way his shirt lifts just slightly as he stretches.

you look away too fast and nearly drop your phone.

he notices. of course he notices. jake always notices.

he walks back toward the couch, slow, amused, hands in his pockets. you're about to make up some snarky comment when he stands directly in front of you, blocking the TV, blocking everything, and says gently:

"hey."

you blink up at him. you didn't even realize you'd been frowning.

"rough night?" he asks, voice warm, soft, impossibly soothing.

"none of your business," you mutter, crossing your arms.

but you don't move away when he leans down a little, bracing one hand on the back of the couch beside your head—not touching you, just close enough that you feel caged in.

"you know..." he says slowly, eyes dropping to your lips for one devastating second, "you don't have to act tough with me."

your throat closes. your brain refuses to function.

then—as if that wasn't enough torture—he adds, quieter, "you know i'm not the kid you used to boss around. you see that now, right?"

you hate how hot your face gets. you hate how your pulse spikes. you hate that your breath catches in your chest like you've been punched. and you really hate how much you want him to say it again.

before you can fire back, before you can regain control, jake pushes off the couch and steps away, giving you space again.

like he didn't just ruin your entire week.

"i'm gonna shower," he says simply, like he didn't just mentally dismantle you. "order dinner if you're hungry."

you stare at him. you stare through him. then you finally breathe.

your voice comes out small. "jake?"

he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. his eyes soften in that way that makes your stomach flip inside out.

you swallow. "why do people keep assuming we're... y'know... together?"

he smiles—slow, deep, knowing.

"maybe," he says, "they're seeing something you're not ready to see yet."

your heart stops. you want to scream. you want to hit him. you want to kiss him until your knees give out. but you can't say any of that. so instead you throw a pillow at him. "shut up."

he laughs—warm, gentle, absolutely insane-making and disappears into the hallway. leaving you on the couch, heart sprinting, stomach twisted, entire world tilted sideways...

and realizing, for the first time, that you might be in very, very dangerous territory.

𓂃

you don't plan on getting jealous. you really don't. it just kind of... ambushes you, like a flying brick to the head.

the whole thing starts because your friend group decides to have a little saturday picnic in the park—very "we're adults now," very "bring something homemade," very "let's pretend our lives aren't falling apart."

you drag jake along because obviously. he has a car and you don't feel like ubering. plus, he always carries things for you without complaining, and you plan to bring at least four bags despite it being a two-hour outing.

he agrees without hesitation, because of course he does.

the morning of, he comes out of his room wearing a white t-shirt, grey sweats, a backward baseball cap, and that infuriating golden retriever smile that makes your stomach do embarrassing gymnastics.

you pretend not to notice. you absolutely notice.

"you ready?" he asks, grabbing the cooler like it weighs nothing.

you squint at him. "you're wearing that?"

he glances down at himself. "...yes?"

"to a picnic?"

"is this not... picnic attire?"

"you look like a catalogue model for 'athletic boyfriend who loves you.'"

he grins. "so i look good? i fit the part?" you blush furiously at his words, choosing to roll your eyes so dramatically it should win an award. "i didn't say that."

"but you didn't deny it."

"jake."

"yes?"

"shut up."

he just laughs and ushers you out the door with a hand on your lower back—casual, familiar, too natural.

you hate how your heart stutters. you want to be annoying on purpose, just to punish him. you succeed by making him carry every single one of your bags.

he still keeps that stupid gentle smile.

you hate it. you love it. you hate that you love it.

the picnic starts fine. your friends adore him—which annoys you for reasons you refuse to examine.

"jake's so sweet," one of them says while he helps set up the blanket.

"jake's so tall," another sighs dreamily.

"jake's so—"

"okay!" you cut in, a little too loudly. "we get it. he's perfect. shut up." everyone stares. you pretend you didn't say anything weird.

jake just throws you an amused little look like he knows exactly what's happening in your brain and is choosing to spare you.

which somehow makes it worse. then she arrives.

the problem. the villain. the enemy.

your friend's coworker—invited last minute—named mia, with perfect hair and a perfect smile and an offensively cute sundress. she spots jake instantly, like a moth to a glow-in-the-dark lantern.

"oh my god, hi," she chirps, stepping right into his space. "we haven't met yet. i'm mia."

jake stands, polite, warm, annoyingly charming. "hey. i'm jake."

you watch from your corner of the blanket, chewing a strawberry like you're trying to murder it with your teeth.

mia laughs at everything he says. she touches his arm at least twice. she calls him funny—funny, jake, the man who laughs at his own dad jokes and says "oopsies" when he drops things.

your eye twitches. and jake... doesn't pull away.

worse, he's being his usual self—easygoing, kind, listening fully, that soft focused attention he gives people when he genuinely likes them.

you have never hated being conscious more. your friends keep giving you meaningful looks.

you keep ignoring them. except then mia leans in closer, tiny sundress fluttering, and says, "so, are you seeing anyone?"

you nearly choke on air. jake doesn't seem fazed. "uh... i—"

"jake!" you snap, way too quickly, way too loud.

everyone stops. jake turns toward you with slow amusement raising his eyebrows. "yeah?"

"you— uh..." your brain abandons you. it packs its bags and literally leaves the continent. "you forgot to... um... help me with something."

he looks at the fully assembled picnic. "help you with what?"

"something," you repeat, sweating. "very important."

mia blinks. "oh, we can finish our conversa—"

"NOPE," you say, grabbing jake's wrist and yanking him off the blanket so fast he practically trips. "no need. bye. go touch grass or something."

you drag him behind a tree like a deranged cartoon burglar. he follows, mostly because he's trying not to laugh.

"you good?" he asks softly.

"i'm fine," you snap, glaring at him.

"you sure? because you look—" "if you say 'jealous' i'm going to drown you in the lake."

he smirks. "i was going to say 'cute,' but okay."

your brain fries like an egg on asphalt. "shut up," you whisper, but it comes out breathless.

he steps closer—not touching, but close enough that the tree is behind you and he's in front of you, warm and solid and taller than you remember.

"you dragged me away from someone mid-flirt," he murmurs, voice dropping into that low warm register that goes straight to your knees. "so i'm gonna need you to explain."

you glare up at him. "i did not. she wasn't flirting."

"she asked if i was seeing anyone."

"she was just being friendly."

"she touched my arm."

"maybe she's friendly with arms." god, you want to be friendly with his arms. "you pulled me across the park."

"i felt like walking."

"you growled." your face burns. "i did not!"

he grins—slow, devastating. "you definitely did." you shove his shoulder, which does absolutely nothing because he's built like a wall now. "you're imagining things."

"am i?"

"yes."

he leans in, inches from your face, eyes ridiculously soft and warm and knowing. "then tell me why you're mad."

you open your mouth. nothing comes out. your throat works around a sound that isn't a word.

jake watches all of it with that maddening patience—like he's been waiting years for this exact moment and can give you all the time in the world.

then, barely above a whisper, "you know i'd drop anyone the second you wanted me to... right?"

your heart stops. actually stops. you physically forget what breathing is.

and he smiles—that deeper, slower version he only gives you now—before stepping back, giving you space like he didn't just vaporize your entire soul.

"come on," he says, gentle. "before your friends think you murdered me." he starts walking back. you stare after him, stunned, furious, flustered, painfully alive.

you hate him. you really, really like him. you hate that you really, really like him.

and when mia tries to talk to him again later, he doesn't even notice—because he's too busy watching you out of the corner of his eye, like you're the only person in the park.

and that's when you know, you're doomed.

𓂃

the day starts stupidly normal, which should've been your first warning.

it's saturday. the sun is too bright. jake's already up—as always—making breakfast like some domestic prince charming he has no right to be. you stumble into the kitchen in one of his hoodies, hair a mess, mascara from last night smudged like war paint.

he glances over his shoulder, amused. "morning, trouble."

you roll your eyes because your heart does a weird little tap-dance. "you're loud."

"i haven't even said anything."

"you existing is loud."

he laughs—soft, warm, like he thinks you're hilarious even when you're being awful and goes back to cooking.

you sit at the counter, chin in your palm, watching him move around like he owns every inch of this kitchen. he does, technically, but you hate how good he looks doing it. the rolled sleeves that expose his delicious looking forearms. the concentration. the way he pushes his hair back when it falls over his forehead.

you look away before he catches you staring. he sets a plate in front of you a moment later, eggs, toast, fruit. stupidly wholesome.

you poke at it. "jake..."

"mm?"

"i need your car today." your car had been in the shop for the last few days, leaving you stranded at home majority of the day.

he pauses. not dramatically. not in a way meant to provoke you. just... pauses. "for what?"

"i need to run errands," you shrug. "grocery store, nail appointment, whatever."

he leans his hip against the counter, arms crossing. "you can take the bus. i need the car."

you blink. blink again. "...the bus?"you say it like he suggested you swim across the pacific ocean.

"yeah," he says simply. "the 14 stops right outside the building. it's not hard."

you stare at him and he stares back. somewhere deep inside your spoiled, bratty, slightly feral soul, a fuse lights.

"you're being dramatic," you declare.

"i'm being practical."

"you're supposed to help me."

"i do help you."

"not right now!" he exhales, patient but firm. "my car isn't your personal uber."

your pride twists sharply. you feel it—that hot, impulsive, immature spark that always gets you in trouble.

"wow," you snap, standing from the stool. "you get a couple muscles, a salary, and suddenly you're too good for me?" his brows lift, surprised—not offended, not angry—just surprised that you'd go for that. "i didn't say that."

"you're acting like it!"

you don't mean the words. not really. they spill out because you're flustered and embarrassed and you hate how stable he is when you're wobbling all over the emotional place. you fold your arms, chin lifted in that signature i'm-right-even-when-i'm-wrong posture.

"i'm asking for one tiny thing, jake. one. and you're giving me attitude? seriously?"

he doesn't flinch. "you're not asking," he says quietly. "you're demanding."

your pulse kicks up—defensive, stubborn. "because you're supposed to say yes!"

"why?" you hate that he says it without raising his voice. hate how calm he is while you're practically vibrating.

"because you always have!" you blurt. "you always listened to me! you always—"

"i was a kid," he says, tone low but steady. "you treated me like i didn't know how to have my own life. and back then? maybe i didn't."

you freeze. his expression softens—not pitying, not mocking —soft in the way someone looks when they finally decide to stop letting you run from something. "but i'm not that kid anymore," he says. "and you can't talk to me like i am."

your throat tightens—sharp, sudden. it's stupid how much it hits you, how fast your anger collapses into something hot and guilty.

he steps closer. not threatening. just... present.

closer than you expected. closer than your heart can handle without short-circuiting.

your voice shrinks. "i wasn't— i didn't mean—"

"yeah," he murmurs, eyes steady on yours. "i know. but you said it anyway."

you swallow. hard. jake looks down at you like he's seeing every version of you at once, bossy eight-year-old you, dramatic teenager you, chaotic adult you, and none of them scare him. none of them push him away.

"i'm not the one who needs to grow up," he says, softer now. "and i'm not trying to fight you. but i'm not here to be ordered around." the room feels too quiet suddenly. the only sound is the faint sizzle of the pan cooling on the stove and your own uneven breathing.

"i... didn't know i was doing that," you whisper.

"yeah," he says again, but gently. "that's the problem."

you look away, frustrated with yourself more than with him. and then he reaches out—slow, careful—and hooks a finger under your chin to tilt your face back up. not forceful but impossible to ignore. his voice drops just a little. warm. real. a little too intimate.

"i'm not going anywhere," he says. "i never have. but you can't keep pretending i belong to you just because i used to follow you around."

the words hit you dead center. because the truth—the horrible, humiliating, painfully raw truth—is that you didn't treat him like he was below you.

you treated him like he was yours. and somewhere along the way, he learned to walk without trailing behind you. you blink fast, trying not to let your eyes shine too much. "i... i just thought..."

"i know," he murmurs. "but that's why we're having this conversation."

you nod, small. awkward. vulnerable in a way you hate being. jake steps back slowly, giving you space without breaking eye contact.

"you can still take the bus," he says lightly. "i'll even google the schedule for you." you glare. but it's weak. he smiles, that stupid warm smile that ruins you every time. and for the first time, your bratty instinct doesn't flare up. instead, something quieter settles in your chest.

you're not sure you like it. you're very sure it has everything to do with him.

𓂃

it starts on a lazy sunday afternoon—the fake kind of lazy where you're doing nothing but somehow jake is doing everything.

he's folding laundry, humming, looking offensively good in a plain white tee, while you lie on the couch upside down, legs over the backrest, scrolling on your phone like a disgruntled cat.

you're bored. dangerous.

"jake," you call, voice dramatic, "i'm craving entertainment. entertain me." he doesn't even glance over. "i'm folding your shirts. that's entertaining."

"no, that's domestic," you correct. "you're like a husband in a detergent commercial."

"at least i smell nice?" he shrugs. you pause. he does. annoyingly so. you ignore the flutter in your stomach and point your toes at him from the upside-down position.

"tell me a story," you demand. "like bedtime story vibes. something juicy. something chaotic. something where i'm the main character—" "—which you always are," he finishes for you, snorting. "okay. fine. let's do memory lane."

you lift your head just enough to squint at him. "that sounds suspiciously sentimental."

"you're the one who asked." you flop your head back. "proceed, peasant."

he finally looks at you—that slow, amused, golden-retriever-who-knows-your-game look. "alright. remember grade four?"

"i choose not to."

"too bad," he says, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, folding the last shirt. "you announced to the whole class that we were getting married."

your phone drops onto your face. "i what—?"

he laughs, warm and full, like it's a memory he's kept safe. "yeah. you stood on a chair during recess and yelled, 'jake is gonna be my husband because he listens!'" you bury your face in your hands. "oh my god."

"you even made me a ring out of twist ties."

"stop talking."

"and then you made me swear an oath—"

"NO YOU DID NOT JUST SAY OATH—"

"—that i'd carry your backpack forever because i was 'stronger' and 'built for it'." you groan so loudly that he laughs again.

"you loved bossing me around," he says, softer now. "i still do," you shoot back, kicking his shoulder lightly with your foot. he catches your ankle. not tight, but just enough for your breath to hitch.

"i know." his voice is lower. "you were kind of terrifying."

"i was adorable," you argue, rolling his eyes.

"you were a tiny tyrant with pigtails."

"and you followed me everywhere," you retort, letting your foot rest in his hold because pulling away feels too much like losing.

"yeah," he says quietly, thumb brushing just once over your ankle before he realizes and lets go. "i did." you freeze. he doesn't look flustered, but the way he moves—slow, controlled, pretending nothing happened—tells you he definitely felt something too.

so you clear your throat and switch the subject recklessly. "well, remember when you glued your hand to a desk?" the corner of his mouth twitches. "you told me it would make me smarter."

"and you believed me!" you cackle.

"you said the glue had 'knowledge properties,'" he defends, pointing an accusing finger at you. "you said einstein invented it!"

you're laughing so hard you almost fall off the couch. he tries to stay serious, but your laugh is contagious and he ends up leaning back against the couch, head tipped against your knee as he laughs too.

you go still. his head. on your leg. like it's natural. like it's always been that way. your laugh fades into a stubborn little silence you can't name.

he notices. he always notices. "hey," he murmurs, chin tilting up just a little so he can see your upside-down face. "what's with that look?"

"what look?" you whisper, too fast.

"the one where you pretend you're annoyed but you're actually... i don't know." he searches your expression. "thinking."

you scoff. "i don't think."

"yes you do."

"nope."

"you definitely do."

"stop accusing me of intelligence!" he laughs again, but this time something softer lingers under it — something warm, something knowing. the air shifts. you hate it. or maybe you don't, maybe that's the problem.

"okay, next memory," you say quickly, tapping his forehead with your foot to break the moment. "tell me something where i look cool."

he smirks. "that never happened."

"JAKE—"

"kidding, kidding." he nudges your leg. "there was that time you punched a boy in the nose because he called me 'jakey-wakey.'"

you blink. "oh yeah. classic me."

"classic you," he echoes, smiling to himself in a way that makes your chest feel tight. and then, quietly, "you always had my back." the room goes still. your heart stutters—because he means it. because he remembers it. because he says it like it mattered.

"don't get sentimental on me, golden boy," you mumble.

"too late," he says, voice warm, teasing, but edged with something real. "you brought up memory lane. i'm just walking it."

you swallow. the dynamic tilts again—just slightly, just enough to make you feel like you're standing on the edge of something big.

so you do what you do best. you kick him lightly in the shoulder. "get up. i'm bored again." he stands, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt.

"fine," he says. "let's go get ice cream."

"you're paying, right?" he sighs. "i always do."

you grin. and he does too, like he wouldn't have it any other way.

𓂃

it starts stupidly. you're not even fighting.

you're tipsy—not blackout, not sloppy, just warm and giggly after a night out with friends. you called jake because your uber bailed and your phone was dying, and he showed up in ten minutes flat, hair messy from sleep, hoodie half-zipped, looking unfairly good for someone dragged out of bed at 1 a.m.

you slid into the passenger seat, all smug. "aww, jakey. did i wake you?"

he didn't even look at you. "put your seatbelt on."

ugh. infuriating. for the entire drive, you tried to poke at him— literally and figuratively—but he kept dodging with that maddening calm.

by the time you walk into the apartment, and by walk you mean jake carrying your flailing body—you're buzzing with irritation that isn't... really irritation.

not exactly. you kick your shoes off dramatically. "you didn't have to come get me, y'know."

he locks the door behind you. "you called," he says simply, shrugging off his hoodie. "i wasn't gonna leave you outside alone."

"i can take care of myself." he gives you a slow, deliberate once-over—the skirt, the smudged makeup, the slightly-wobbly stance.

"sure you can." you make an offended noise, fully ready to start something stupid—but he walks past you toward the kitchen.

which pisses you off more. so you follow him. obviously. he's pulling a water bottle out of the fridge when you step right into his space, eyebrows raised, chin tilted up like a challenge.

"you're ignoring me," you accuse.

"no," he says calmly. "i'm choosing not to indulge you." your stomach actually drops. oh, that tone. that new tone you still haven't learned how to handle.

you scoff. "wow. someone got confident."

"someone had to," he says. and then—god help you—he steps closer. not touching you, just closer.

your back meets the counter, cold through your shirt. he sets the water bottle beside you but doesn't move away. he's right there—warm, solid, taller, broader than he ever was as a kid—and he's looking at you like he can see every thought you're trying to hide.

"you good?" he asks softly. that should be a normal question. but it isn't.your throat goes tight. "i'm fine." he inhales once, slow, like he's counting to five because of you. "you're doing that thing again."

"what thing," you snap too quickly.

"pretending you don't want something," he murmurs, "just because you don't wanna admit i'm the one you want it from."

your breath actually stops. you hate how your hands grip the counter; you hate how your pulse stutters; you hate that he can hear it, probably feel it, with how close he is.

"you think i want something from you?" you manage, trying to sound bored. he leans in, not touching. but close enough that his breath brushes your cheek.

"i think," he says quietly, "you wouldn't have called me tonight if you didn't." your voice comes out small. "i called because my uber bailed."

he smiles. slow. knowing. devastating. "sure," he says. "if that's the lie you wanna stick to."

you actually shove him. well—you try. your hands hit his chest, but he doesn't budge an inch. he just looks down at you with that infuriating calm, like you're cute for even attempting it.

"don't—" your voice breaks, and you hate that too. "don't talk like you know everything."

he corners you fully now, one hand resting on the counter beside your hip, the other lifting—slowly, giving you time—until his fingers hover under your jaw. not touching. just waiting.

"i'm not the one pretending here," he says softly. "i'm not pretending anything."

"yeah?" he whispers. "then look at me." you do. you shouldn't have.

his eyes are warm and dark and unbearably sure of you—like he's known this moment was coming since you were both twelve and you bossed him into giving you the last popsicle on the block. like he's been waiting for you to catch up.

"you can be a brat to everyone else," he says, barely above a murmur. "but you don't get to lie to me." your chest pulls tight, breath shaking, and you don't realize you've gone still until he tilts his head, studying you.

"there it is," he whispers. "finally." finally what? finally you stop running? finally you stop pretending you don't want him? finally you admit you're not the one with the power anymore?

you don't know. you just know your voice is barely a whisper, "...jake." something changes in his face. not anger. not triumph. just... relief. warm and deep and terrifying.

he leans closer, his forehead almost touching yours and his voice drops, low and steady, "i'm not gonna kiss you tonight," he says. "you're drunk."

you swallow hard, embarrassed and grateful and furious all at once. "but tomorrow?" he adds, eyes flicking to your mouth for half a second.

your knees actually go weak, tomorrow? "tomorrow," he says, "you don't get to run." and he steps back. leaving you breathless, cornered by nothing but your own heartbeat.

you wake up with your skull splitting in two, your mouth dry, and the horrifying, slow–motion realization that you remember every single thing that happened last night.

the way jake lifted you off that sidewalk like you weighed nothing. the way he held you steady while you tried to unlock the door and failed miserably.

the way he said it—low, warm, devastating, "you can be a brat to everyone else. but you don't get to lie to me." and worst of all, the way he looked at you afterward. like he was two seconds away from kissing you senseless against your own doorway.

you roll onto your back, throw an arm over your face, and groan.

"oh my god i hate it here," you mutter into your pillow. "i should move out. i should join a monastery. i should fake my death."

a soft knock hits your door. your entire soul leaves your body. "hey," jake's voice calls, maddeningly gentle. "i made breakfast." you consider leaping out the window. instead you croak, "i'm... busy."

"you're hungover."

"busy being hungover." he laughs—that warm, breathy laugh that you hear way too clearly through the door.

"come eat. i won't bite." liar, you think, dragging yourself out of bed. you almost did. you trudge down the hall in an oversized hoodie and socks, praying he looks terrible so you can at least feel morally superior.

he does not look terrible. he's standing at the stove in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, hair damp, shoulders broad, forearms flexing as he plates food. the apartment is stupidly bright, the sun hits him like it's personally in love.

you want to die. you try to sneak to the fridge for water and pretend he doesn't exist. he turns just in time to catch you.

"morning," he says. you nearly drop the bottle. "...hi."

he raises an eyebrow. "that's it? no yelling? no demands?" you glare at him weakly. "i'm on sick leave."

"mhm." he sets a plate in front of you. "how's the headache?"

"big."

"water's on the table."

"i know."

"you didn't drink it."

"...i was getting emotionally prepared," you mumble. he smiles—soft, amused, slightly pitying—and sits across from you.mthe silence is unbearable. you poke at your eggs like they personally offended you. "so. about last night."

"yeah," he says calmly, sipping his coffee. "about last night." you brace yourself. you don't know what you're expecting—a lecture? a joke? him pretending it didn't happen?

what you don't expect is him leaning back in his chair, eyes flicking over your face like he can see every thought you're trying to drown.

"you were pretty honest," he says softly. you choke on air. "i— what— honest how?" he tilts his head. "you kept grabbing me."

"NO I DID NOT—"

"you did," he says, annoyingly unbothered. "kept saying i 'smelled stupidly good' and that i 'ruined guys' for you." you want the earth to open up and swallow you. "i was drunk," you whisper.

"i know." he nods. "that's why you didn't lie." your heart stutters. his voice drops, the same tone he used last night—warm, steady, too real.

"you don't have to freak out," he murmurs. "i'm not asking for anything." you stare at him. "you're being... weirdly nice."

"i'm always nice to you."

"you're being extra nice." his lips twitch. "you're hungover."

"i don't trust it."

"that says more about you than me," he says, and you actually consider throwing your fork at him. but then... he pushes his chair back. stands. walks around the table. you freeze as he stops right beside you. not touching you, he never touches first, but close enough that your entire body tenses.

"look at me," he says quietly. you do, because what other choice do you have. his eyes hold yours, steady and dark and impossibly sure.

"what i said last night wasn't because you were drunk." a beat. "i meant it." your breath catches. your fingers curl around the edge of your chair. "jake..."

he leans down just a little—not enough to cross the line, but enough that you feel him, warm and solid at your side. "you can avoid me all you want today," he murmurs. "hide in your room. glare at me. pretend you don't remember."

your heart is hammering so loudly you're scared he can hear it. "but we're not going back," he finishes. "not after last night." you can't speak. you can't move. you can't breathe. he straightens slowly, like he knows exactly what he just did to you, and steps back.

"eat your breakfast," he says lightly, already turning toward the sink. "you need your strength." you stare at his back, absolutely feral with confusion and panic and want.

because he's right. everything has changed and you're the one who feels ruined.

the rest of the day is... hell. you hide in your room because you're a coward with a hangover and a heart that won't stop doing gymnastics. you scroll on your phone. you pretend to nap. you dramatically throw yourself on your bed like a victorian widow.

unfortunately, your bedroom shares a wall with the living room.

which means you hear everything. you hear jake laughing softly at his phone. you hear him moving around, cleaning, humming, doing dishes. you hear him existing like the universe didn't tilt on its axis last night.

and every time he shifts, every time the floor creaks, your stomach flips like it's auditioning for a reality show.

around 5 p.m., you crack. you storm out of your room under the noble excuse of "checking if he replaced the Brita filter," which is a lie, but you're committed to the bit.

jake is on the couch. hair damp again from the gym. black t-shirt stretched over his shoulders. sweatpants hanging too low for god's favorites, let alone you, god's forgotten middle child.

he looks up the second you appear.

"hey." so casual. so normal. so illegal.

you fold your arms. "why are you acting weird?"

he blinks. "...i'm literally sitting."

"you're sitting weird." he bites back a smile. "okay. how does one sit weird?"

"like that!" you snap, gesturing vaguely at his whole body. "all... confident."

"i'm sorry?" he laughs, leaning back. "you want me to slouch more?"

"i want you to stop—" you choke on your own words. "—being like... this."he tilts his head. "like what?" you should walk away. run. escape. join witness protection. instead you stomp closer. "stop being smug about last night." his eyebrows lift. "i'm not smug."

"you are," you fire back. "you're doing the eyes."

"...the eyes?"

"yes! the—" you wildly point at his face "—'i know something you're not admitting' eyes." his lips twitch. "maybe because you are avoiding something."

you freeze. he didn't say it sharply. or cruelly. just... plainly. softly. like he's stating the weather.

"i'm not avoiding anything," you lie.

"okay." he pats the couch. "come sit, then." you scoff. "no."

"why not?"

"because." because you don't know what will happen. because you don't trust your own body around him. because his voice last night is still echoing in your bones. "because?" he repeats gently.

you glare. you hate him. you hate that he's winning. you hate that he's not even trying to win. "fine," you snap, and drop onto the couch beside him.

the space between you is legal... but barely. jake doesn't move. doesn't lean in. doesn't touch. he simply turns his head and looks at you.

slowly. openly. like he's reading a book he's already memorized. your pulse stutters. "what?" you demand.

his voice is quiet. "you still look upset."

"i'm not upset."

"you're doing the eyebrows."

you gasp. "I DO NOT—"

"you do," he murmurs, and the tone—god, that tone—almost makes you shake. "you always do when you're overwhelmed." you hate how he knows that. you hate how he knows anything. you hate how safe he makes it feel to be known.

"jake," you say, trying to sound sharp. "stop... looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"like you're—" you swallow "—waiting for me to break." he's quiet for a beat. then, "i'm not waiting," he says softly. "you already are."

your breath catches. he doesn't smirk. he doesn't tease. he just watches you—steady, patient, unbearably gentle. and something in you snaps. "you think you know everything," you whisper.

"no." he shakes his head once. "i just know you."

your throat tightens. you push up from the couch —too fast, too dramatic, too you—but before you can escape, his hand closes around your wrist.

not hard. not forceful. just enough, enough to stop you. enough to pull a tiny gasp from your mouth. enough to make your knees weaken embarrassingly fast.

you stare at him and he stares right back.

"don't run," he murmurs.

"i'm not—"

"you are." his hand slides down, fingers brushing yours. "why are you scared of me?"

"i'm not scared of you," you whisper.

"then look at me." you do and that's your mistake. because he stands and steps into your space. not touching, but close enough that your breath stumbles. your legs buckle beneath you and you find yourself sitting on the sofa again.

your back presses into the sofa without you thinking, his body following, not pinning you, but caging you all the same—one arm braced above your head, the other still holding your wrist like he's reminding you he could've touched more, but chose restraint instead.

his breath ghosts your cheek. "this is what you wanted last night," he says quietly.

your stomach flips so violently you almost fold.

"i— you— i was drunk," you manage.

"you're sober now."

you hate him. you want him. you hate that you want him. his forehead drops to yours—barely touching, barely there, but it feels like a strike of lightning.

"say it," he murmurs, voice dropping to that devastating low. "just once. stop lying to me." you swallow so hard it hurts. "jake..."

his thumb skims the back of your hand—the first real touch—slow and devastating and enough to make heat coiling in your stomach spike.

"say it," he repeats, even softer now. "and i won't make you wait anymore." you gasp. you could feel your chest press in and your thigh clench together, an action that doenst go unnoticed by jake's sharp eyes.

your whole body trembles under his breath, his closeness, his voice and he feels it, oh he absolutely feels it. he smirks, barely. and then, in a tone that is not patient anymore, not gentle anymore—a tone that is pure control, "don't make me ask again."

your mouth parts. your pulse jumps. the line is right there—the moment before the moment—and you know if you speak, if you admit one more thing, everything you've been holding back is going to break wide open.

and he's waiting. breathing with you. holding you still. letting you fall on your own.

your mouth opens, but the only sound is a shaky, pathetic little gasp. your brain is screaming at you to shove him, to run, to do something—anything—but your body is a traitor. it's melting. sinking into the wall of the couch, arching just the tiniest bit toward him, like a flower leaning into the sun.

his thumb presses into the soft skin of your inner wrist, a slow, deliberate circle that feels like a brand. "i'm waiting," he murmurs, and his voice isn't gentle anymore. it's low. rough. it's the voice of someone who's done waiting.

"i—" you try, but the word dissolves. your pride is a flimsy shield against the sheer force of him. he's not just jake anymore. he's the boy who memorized your every whim, who learned your tells, who grew up and sharpened all that quiet observation into a weapon aimed directly at your defenses.

"look at me," he says again, and you do. you have to. his eyes are dark, pinned on yours, and there's no escape in them. there's only the truth. "say it."

"i hate you," you whisper, and it's the most honest thing you've ever said. a slow, vicious smile spreads across his face. it's not triumphant. it's relieved. "no you don't," he breathes, and then he closes the last inch of space.

the first kiss is a collision. it's not soft. it's not hesitant. it's a punishment. his mouth is firm on yours, bruising, and before you can even process it, his teeth are sinking into your bottom lip, a sharp, stinging bite that makes you cry out.

he licks over the hurt immediately, a hot, possessive swipe, and then he's kissing you again, all teeth and tongue, a messy, hungry claim. he's devouring you, and you're letting him. you're arching into him, your free hand fisting the soft cotton of his t-shirt, pulling him closer.

he breaks the kiss, leaving you panting, your lip tingling. his forehead rests on yours, his breathing just as ragged. "see?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your entire body. "not so hard, was it?"

you want to snap back, but all you can manage is a weak, breathless glare.

he chuckles, a dark, warm sound. "still got that look in your eye," he says, his thumb stroking the side of your neck. "like you're planning my murder."

"maybe i am," you whisper, dazed out of your mind.

"good luck with that," he says, and then he's manhandling you. his hands grip your waist, and he's spinning you, pushing you forward until your knees hit the edge of the couch. he bends you over the arm, one hand flat between your shoulder blades, holding you down. the position is obscene, your ass in the air, face pressed into the couch cushions.

"these," he says, his voice low and rough as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, "have been driving me crazy for a week."

he tugs them down, slowly, deliberately, and you lift your hips to help him, a silent surrender that feels more powerful than any argument you've ever won. he tosses them aside, his gaze dropping to the thin lace of your panties.

"so much for being subtle," he murmurs, and you flush, because he knows. he knows you wore them for him. you always do.

then his hand is gone from your back for a second, and you hear the sharp sound of it cutting through the air before it connects with your ass. a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp into the cushions.

"that's for being a fucking tease," he growls, his hand rubbing the sting into your skin. another slap, this one on the other cheek. "and that's for making me wait."

he yanks your panties down, and the cool air hits your dripping pussy. you're so wet it's embarrassing. "look at this," he breathes, and then you feel it—a sharp, stinging slap right against your folds. you jolt, a choked moan tearing from your throat. it's a different kind of pain, sharper, more intimate.

"so fucking wet for me. you wanted this just as bad as i did, didn't you?"

he doesn't wait for an answer. he's on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your ass cheeks and spreading you open. you feel his hot breath a second before his mouth is on you. he doesn't start slow. he licks a broad, flat stripe from your clit to your entrance, a messy, hungry taste before his lips close around your clit and he sucks. hard.

your knees buckle, but his grip on you is iron. he's a man possessed. he eats you out like he's starving, his tongue fucking into you, his nose pressing against your ass, his teeth scraping your inner thighs. he bites down on the sensitive skin there, hard enough to leave a mark, and you sob, pushing back against his face. he's obsessed. he's consuming you.

he groans at the taste of you, his tongue messy yet precise as he slide down your folds making your squirm. "jake, please," you gasp, your hands fisting the couch cushions.

he pulls back just enough to speak, his voice muffled by your cunt. "please what? beg for it."

"please, i need—"

"need what?" he demands, landing another sharp slap to your pussy. the sting mixes with the pleasure, a dizzying cocktail. you feel his fingers tease your clenching hole, not quite pushing in but instead dip in slightly before running over to rub at your swollen clit.

"your cock," you sob, completely broken. "please, jake, i need your cock."

he groans, a deep, guttural sound of victory. he stands up, and you hear the rustle of his jeans. then he's grabbing you, flipping you over onto your back on the couch like you weigh nothing. he looms over you, his shirt gone, his chest heaving. his eyes are wild, feral.

"open your mouth," he commands, his hand reaching between your legs to rub tight circles around your clit while you struggle to keep your legs open.

you do, without thinking. he leans down, spits directly onto your tongue. it's filthy, degrading, and it sends a bolt of pure lust straight through you. "swallow it," he orders, and you do, your eyes locked on his.

his expression morphs into one of pure bliss, his hand wrapped around his thick aching cock as he jerks himself slightly. he watches your needy mouth pull into a whine when his fingers press harder on your clit, pleading for him to fuck you.

originally, he was going to tease you. have you begging and crying for his cock, but he overestimated his ability to hold back when he realized how good you looked fucked out.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then he's lining himself up, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance. he doesn't wait. he pushes into you in one hard, deep stroke, and you both groan. he's big, stretching you, filling you completely, and it's overwhelming in the best possible way.

he starts to move, his hips slamming into yours, a brutal, punishing rhythm. each thrust is deep, deliberate, designed to break you apart. he leans down, sinking his teeth into the soft skin where your neck meets your shoulder, a hard, possessive bite that you know will leave a dark bruise.

"mine," he growls against your skin, his pace quickening. "you've always been mine." his hands fumble to pull up your shirt, eyes bright when he realizes that you weren't wearing a bra. his greedy hands grab at you tits, pinching and squeezing as he watched your face scrunch in pleasure.

"so fucking pretty." he mummers, his cock pounding into you strong before his mouth reach's down to take in one of your nipples—sucking hard.

you whine in response, hands clawing at his shoulders as you arch unnaturally against the couch.

"been waiting for this day for years." he confesses, between kisses that he's leaving on your chest. your heart beats faster at his sudden confession, moaning louder when his cock brushes against that all get area that many of your ex's had trouble finding.

the coil in your stomach tightens, impossibly fast. he can feel it too, can feel the way you're clenching around him, and he reaches down, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, merciless circles.

"cum for me," he commands, his voice a low growl. "now."

you shatter. a blinding, all-consuming orgasm rips through you. you scream his name, your body arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. he follows you over the edge a moment later, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, spilling himself into you.

you shudder at the feeling of his warm cum in you, feeling him twitch inside you as he helped you ride out your high.

he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and warm, his face buried in the crook of your neck. you're both panting, your bodies slick with sweat, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing.

for a long moment, neither of you speaks. you just lie there, tangled together, the aftermath of the storm settling around you.

finally, he pushes himself up, his arms braced on either side of your head. he looks down at you, his expression soft, his eyes filled with a terrifying amount of adoration. he leans down and presses a soft, gentle kiss to the bite mark on your neck.

"still hate me?" he murmurs, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

you look up at him, at the boy you've spent a lifetime fighting, and feel something inside you crack open. "no," you whisper, and it's the truest thing you've ever said.

the room is still warm.not from the heater, not from the blankets—from him. from the way he touched you. from the way you touched him back.

you're lying on your back, hair messy, chest still rising too fast, your skin flushed in a way you hope isn't obvious... but you know it is. jake's spread out beside you, one arm tucked behind his head, the other lazily resting across your stomach like he claimed the space there without even thinking about it.

you don't speak at first. neither does he. your breathing gradually falls back into something human, and eventually something soft and unbearably embarrassing curls into your voice.

"so," you mumble, staring at the ceiling because looking at him might actually kill you. "um. that happened."

jake turns his head toward you slowly—so slowly your pulse skips like it's trying to escape your body.

he doesn't tease. he doesn't joke. he doesn't even smirk. he just looks at you, eyes dark and soft and deeply certain in a way that makes your stomach twist.

"yeah," he says quietly. "it did."

you swallow. his fingers move—not leaving your stomach, just tracing lazy, slow circles like he's memorizing the shape of you now that he's allowed to.

"are you..." his voice dips, warm and low, "okay?"

you shut your eyes for one humiliating second before answering.

"i'm fine."

"you sure?"

"yes."

"positive?"

"jake, please," you groan, dragging your hands over your face. "i'm fine, you're fine, everything's—whatever."

he laughs, soft and breathy, and his hand slides higher on your torso—warm palm resting just beneath your ribs without pushing, without restraining, just there.

and the worst part? you lean into it without thinking.

he notices—of course he notices—because his thumb presses lightly, intentionally, like he's acknowledging the way you reacted.

your voice comes out embarrassingly small. "stop acting like you know everything."

"i don't," he murmurs. "i just know you."

you turn your head sharply, finally meeting his eyes—which was a mistake, because he's already looking at you like he's been waiting for you to do it.

and he holds your gaze. fully. openly. no hesitation left whatsoever.

god, he's bold now. not arrogant. not smug. just... sure.

sure of you. sure of himself. sure of what he wants.

"i meant what i said," he says, the slightest rasp in his voice. "you don't get to lie to me anymore."

you swallow, throat tight. "i wasn't—"

he cuts you off with nothing but a look. a look that tells you exactly what he heard in your voice earlier, in your breathing, in the way you clung to him.

"you don't have to pretend," he adds quietly. "not here. not with me."

your chest squeezes.

no one has ever said that to you before—not like that, not with that kind of certainty, not with that kind of gentleness that feels like he's handing you permission you didn't even know you craved.

so you whisper—barely audible, "i'm not pretending."

his breath catches. barely, but you hear it. then he shifts—not climbing over you, not pulling you in —just rolling onto his side, facing you fully, his leg brushing yours under the blanket that he has pulled over you two.

his voice drops to something dangerously soft.

"good," he murmurs. "because I'm not pretending anymore either."

you blink. "pretending what?"

he leans in, just enough that you feel his breath against your cheek, his nose brushing the corner of yours.

"that I don't want you," he says simply.

your stomach drops straight through the mattress. he keeps going, voice steady, tone low but honest in a way that shakes you more than anything else tonight.

"i'm done acting like I don't think about you all the time," he whispers. "i'm done holding back because I thought it was what you wanted."

your lips part, but nothing comes out.

his thumb grazes your hip under the blanket— slow, barely there, but intentional. grounding. claiming. reassuring.

"i'm done pretending you're just my friend."

your pulse jumps so hard you swear it echoes.

you stare at him—dazed, breathless, overwhelmed.

"jake..."

he just watches you, eyes soft, voice steady.

"you don't have to say anything tonight," he murmurs. "you don't owe me anything. i just need you to know."

you whisper, "know what?"

he holds your gaze like he's anchoring you in place.

"that I want you."

your breath stops.

"that I'm not scared of it."

his fingers tighten just slightly on your hip. "that I'm not scared of you."

you tremble.

"and that I'm not going anywhere."

the room feels too small. too warm. too full of everything you've been running from.

you look at him, really look, and something cracks open in your chest. you don't know what to do with it. you don't know how to breathe around it.

but he does. he reaches up, cups the back of your neck with a gentleness that ruins you more than anything else tonight, and he tugs you in just a little—not kissing you, just touching foreheads, sharing breath.

"we'll talk tomorrow," he murmurs. "when you're less in your head."

you want to argue. you want to push him away. you want to pull him closer.

you end up doing none of those things—instead you melt, slowly, helplessly, into the space he holds open for you.

he pulls the blanket up. shifts closer. lets your head rest on his chest when you finally, silently, give in.

his hand stays on your back.

steady. warm. sure.

and for the first time, it hits you—painfully, beautifully, terrifyingly, you're not the only one who fell.

𓂃

you wake up before him.

which is unfair, honestly, because you absolutely deserve to sleep in after what he did to you.

your legs ache in that humiliating, delicious way. your throat is dry. your body is warm, too warm, because jake's arm is still around your waist, lazy and heavy and possessive even in sleep.

his breath ghosts the back of your neck. your, his, hoodie that he had helped you slip on last night was now halfway off your shoulder because of him. your pulse is still not normal.

you lie there, staring at the ceiling of the divining room, trying not to combust.

you should be embarrassed. you're not. you should be panicking. you are.

but underneath all of that—buried under the adrenaline and the dizzy aftershocks—there's this new, terrifyingly soft awareness sitting in your chest.

you want him.

in a way that isn't just physical. in a way that isn't just bratty competition. in a way that makes your stomach twist because you know it didn't start last night.

it started way, way before that.

your brain drifts—uninvited, unstoppable—right back to the beginning.

flashback — age 9, the playground

you're wearing a sparkly t-shirt and a crooked ponytail because you cut your own hair with safety scissors. jake is sitting in the sandbox, building something horrifyingly ugly but he swears it's a castle.

you stomp up to him, hands on hips, full attitude, even back then.

"you're doing it wrong," you announce.

he doesn't even look up. "hi to you too."

"jake. that's not a castle. that's a blob."

"it's abstract."

"it's ugly."

he sighs—that tiny, patient sigh that would become his trademark. "okay. what do you want me to do?"

"move over."

you don't wait. you physically shove him two scoots to the left and plop down beside him like you own the sandbox.

he moves. he always moves.

you grab his bucket. "we need more water."

he blinks at you, confused. "um... then go get some?"

you fix him with the most dramatic stare your nine-year-old face can manage.

"...i don't want to."

he laughs—that same soft little huff he still does —and stands up, brushing sand off his shorts.

"fine. i'll go."

"thank you," you say, like you're the queen of england.

when he comes back carrying a wobbly, half-filled bucket, you beam. you don't say thank you again, but he sees it in your face.

he hands you the bucket. but you don't take it.

you tilt your head and say, completely serious, "you pour it."

he should argue. he should tell you to do it yourself. he should tell you you're bossy. instead, without hesitation, he kneels and does exactly what you want.

and you lean closer—too close—watching him work, feeling weirdly fluttery and warm because jake listens to you in a way no one else does.

you don't know what it means at that age.

you just know it feels special.

later, when a group of older kids tries to take over your half-finished castle, you puff up, ready to argue—but jake steps in first.

"this is ours," he says firmly.

the kids back off and you stare at him like he's a superhero.

you don't understand your feelings, not then. but years later, lying in his bed with his arm around you, remembering the way nine-year-old jake defended your ugly sandcastle like it mattered?

you finally get it. it started there. it always started there.

back to present

you wake fully with a heavy breath and a heavier realization, you want to tell him. you want to admit it. you want to say something terrifyingly real like i think i've liked you since we were kids or i don't want last night to be a one-time thing or i want you.

and that's the problem.

because wanting is easy. saying it out loud is not.

so when jake shifts behind you, murmuring softly into your hair, "morning..." in that gravelly, post-sleep voice.

you panic. full feral panic.

you slip out of his arms, ignore his sleepy protest and practically flee the room.

you don't make eye contact during breakfast. you don't sit near him. you don't let him touch you, even though he tries—a hand on your waist, a brush of his fingers, small things that make your breath hitch.

he notices. of course he notices. he doesn't push, though. he just watches you with that calm, frustrating, evolved-from-childhood patience.

"everything okay?" he asks at one point.

you say, "yep!" like an idiot and then walk away before you faint.

cowardice: 1 you: 0

you're on the couch later, pretending to scroll your phone, doing a terrible job of acting normal. jake is in the kitchen, on speakerphone, fixing something near the sink.

you're not listening. until you are. because a girl's voice floats through the speaker—bright, flirty, familiar.

"so you're free this weekend?"

you freeze. jake hums. "yeah, probably."

the girl laughs. "good. i was hoping we could go out again."

again? AGAIN??

your vision goes sharp. hot. you sit up so fast your neck cracks.

jake notices the sound and glances over his shoulder—but you're already looking at him with an expression that could kill crops.

he mouths, 'what?' you don't answer.

the girl keeps talking. "my friends keep asking about you," she giggles. "they think you're cute."

you go still. silent. dangerously silent.

jake's eyes flick to your face and something about your expression makes him stand up straighter, makes his brow pull slightly together.

"uh—" he clears his throat. "can i call you back?"

"sure! text me later."

he hangs up and the kitchen goes too quiet. he wipes his hands on a towel and steps toward you slowly, cautiously, the way someone approaches a wild animal that might bite.

"hey," he says softly.

you don't respond. you just stare at him, jaw tight, heat ticking under your skin in a way that feels feral.

"that was... a friend," he offers.

you blink once. just once. but your eyes are sharp and possessive and nothing like the bratty irritation he's used to handling.

he stops walking. "what's going on?" he asks gently.

and that's when it hits him—the realization flickers across his face.

your posture. your eyes. the way you're holding your phone like you want to throw it at the wall.

you're jealous. not playful jealous. not the type of jealousy you showed at the park when mina, mona, mia whatever the fuck her name is was hitting on him. not petty jealous. real, territorial, chest-tightening jealous.

and jake has never seen you like that. his breath changes. his shoulders straighten. his whole energy shifts—calm, sure, controlled, like something in him clicks perfectly into place.

"come here," he says quietly.

you don't move. your throat is tight. your stomach is hot. everything in you is wound too tight to speak.

"come here," he repeats, firmer this time but still soft.

you finally stand. slow. tight. bristling with emotion you don't know how to name yet.

you walk toward him until you're only a foot away, eyes burning into his. he looks down at you—and there's something in his gaze you've never seen before.

something knowing. something claiming. something like, finally.

and then—you can feel him watching you. that stupid half-smirk, that stupid relaxed posture like he didn't just back you against the counter a few days ago, hands on your waist, voice warm enough to melt your spine. like he didn't murmur things that have been replaying in your head nonstop.

and what makes it worse? he looks so unbothered. like he knows something you don't. he always does.

"you're awfully quiet," he says from the couch, leaning his head back like he's bored. "you only shut up when something's bothering you."

you glare at him. "nothing's bothering me."

"mm." his eyes drag lazily up your legs, slow enough to make you want to throw something at him. "so it's just your attitude that's loud today."

"jake."

"what?" he grins. "you get weird whenever someone gets too close to the truth. you always have."

you cross your arms, heat rushing to your cheeks. "don't start."

he sits up like he's been waiting for that. "start what? pushing you?" a shrug. "you like when i do that."

you hate how your pulse jumps. you hate how he hears it. "you're so full of yourself."

"no," he says softly, "i just know you."

and the way he says it—warm, sure, familiar—makes your stomach twist in that embarrassing way you can never hide from him.

you turn away, but he laughs under his breath.

"see? there it is." he shuffles and steps in front of you, tilting his head. "that little flinch. the one you get when you're about to run your mouth but you don't know how to without admitting something."

"i don't have anything to admit," you snap—too fast, too sharp, too obvious. he raises a brow.

"okay," he murmurs, stepping closer, "then tell me why you've been avoiding looking at me since i had you pinned against that sofa with my cock deep inside of you."

you almost choke at his vulgarity.

"i— that— that was—"

"yeah," he says, eyes dropping to your mouth, "exactly."

you push his shoulder, out of pure panic. "shut up."

he laughs, catching your wrist midway, gentle but firm. "that's what i mean."

your breath stutters. "you've always been like this," he says, voice low. "bratty, loud, impossible. acting like you're the one in charge. you'd push me around, yell at me, boss me around—" his thumb brushes your pulse. "—and i loved every second of it."

your heart stops. you meet his eyes, stunned, and he smiles like he's been waiting years for that reaction.

"you liked that?" your voice cracks.

"of course i did." his tone warms, softens. "i loved that you treated me like i was yours without even realizing it."

your face burns and you whisper, "then why won't you let me do it anymore?" he steps in—close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

"because," he murmurs, "i finally realized something." your throat tightens. "what?" his eyes drop to your mouth, slow... deliberate.

"it's fun being pushed around by you," he says, "but it's even more fun watching you fall apart when i push back."

your knees go weak. he notices—of course he does—and his hand slides to steady your hip, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath catch.

"see?" he whispers. "this is why i don't mind waiting for you to confess." you swallow hard. "i'm not confessing."

"you already are."

"no i'm—"

"you are." he smirks. "and you'll say it any minute now." your eyes narrow. "you're impossible."

"mm. and you like me."

your face flames. "shut up." he leans in, lips brushing your cheek—not a kiss, but close enough to ruin you.

"say it," he murmurs. "c'mon. you've been holding it in for years." you shove him again—weakly this time. "god, jake, you're so—"

"annoying?" he offers.

"cocky."

"you like that too."

you groan in frustration. "fine! okay? i like you. i've liked you for a long time. happy now?"

his breath hitches—barely—but you feel it. then he smiles—slow, victorious, soft around the edges.

"very."

you try to look away but he catches your chin with two fingers. "hey," he whispers, "look at me."

you do and his voice drops—deeper, rougher. "you think i didn't know?" a slow shake of his head. "i've always known."

your pulse pounds. "and i didn't say anything," he admits, "because you... being like this? all flustered and mouthy and stubborn? it's the cutest thing in the world."

your knees actually wobble and his grip tightens.

"and now that i know you want me too..." he leans in, lips barely brushing yours—never quite touching. "...i'm gonna enjoy every second of this."

and then he kisses you. not careful. not patient. like he's been holding himself back for years and finally lets the dam break.

your back hits the counter, his hand sliding into your hair, tilting your head exactly the way he wants. he drinks in the little gasp you make, smirking against your mouth like he knew it'd happen.

you try to kiss him harder, try to take control, but he catches your wrists—pinning them lightly above your head, just enough pressure to make your stomach flip.

"see?" he murmurs against your lips. "told you. it's fun pushing you around." you whimper—quiet, involuntary. his lips curve. "there she is."

he kisses you again, slower this time, deeper, his mouth warm and sure and maddeningly steady. like he wants you to feel every second of it.

when he finally pulls back, your wrists are still caught in his hand, your chest rising and falling too fast.

he brushes his nose against yours, smiling softly—smug, but affectionate. "you can push me around later," he says, "but right now... let me have this."

you bite your lip, trying not to melt.

"jake?"

"yeah?"

"don't stop."

his smile is lethal. "wasn't planning to."

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