vampjaeyun

[vampjaeyun]

i miss u @simpjaes

[vampjaeyun]

srry for the delay. been busy with moving to a different state, jay fic rec as soon as i wrap everything up. probably in a day or two. thank you for ur patience 💋

[vampjaeyun]

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

⋆˙⟡ synopsis: jake didn’t want a roommate, and you weren’t exactly thrilled either. it was supposed to be temporary, simple, nothing personal. except living together made everything personal. every glance, every fight, every late night that ended closer than it should have. there’s no neat label for what happens between you two, no clean line where it starts or ends. it’s messy, it’s reckless, it’s addictive. and once it begins, neither of you really want it to stop.

→ pairing: roommate!jake x fem!reader … ﹒college au, smut (mdni!!), roommate to lovers, slowburn #playlist → stockholm syndrome - one direction | love like this - zayn | i don’t do drugs ft. ariana grande - doja cat | just my type - the vamps | 34+35 - ariana grande // word count: 30k

!! warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), public teasing, dirty talk, praise and degradation, softdom!jake, bratty!reader, spanking, weed consumption, jealousy, roommates with benefits but not really

jake never really did the whole quiet college life thing. he wasn’t failing classes or anything (he actually pulled decent grades when he cared enough to try) but most of his energy went into parties, half-serious hookups, and making sure he was never tied down to anything for too long. his apartment was a revolving door of friends, girls, and takeout containers, and he liked it that way. no one stayed long enough to know his laundry schedule or notice he slept with the tv on. it was easy, low maintenance, exactly how he wanted it. at least until the housing office screwed him over and dropped you into his space.

the week before had been pretty standard for jake, which meant a lot of nothing. monday night he was at heeseung’s place, half watching a game and half playing fifa with sunghoon until three in the morning. tuesday was drinks with sunoo and niki at that bar near campus. wednesday he skipped his morning lecture, slept until noon, and then spent the rest of the day hanging around jungwon’s dorm because jay had ordered pizza and jake didn’t feel like cooking. thursday was another party (he couldn’t even remember whose) and friday he woke up with a headache and a random girl’s hoodie on his couch.

it was the kind of week he’d been having for most of his college life, just bouncing between his friends’ places and his own small one-bedroom apartment. the lease was almost up, and he’d already decided he wanted to move. not because he hated it, it was fine, but the walls were thin, the neighbors complained too much, and he wanted more space. he’d been looking for a bigger place, just for himself, no roommates, no shared fridge, no awkward small talk.

the plan was simple: find a one-bedroom close to campus, maybe a little more expensive, but worth it for the peace. but then the housing office screwed something up. the unit he’d signed for got pulled last minute because of some “maintenance issue,” and by the time they told him, everything else on his list was already taken. they offered him a spot in a two-bedroom to “hold him over until something opens up,” and he took it, assuming they’d find some random guy to fill the other room eventually.

they didn’t. instead, they gave the second key to you.

“a girl?” heeseung asked, glancing over like he wanted to make sure he heard it right.

“yep,” jake said, “and before you ask, no, i don’t know anything about her. could’ve been some random dude from campus, but no, they put me with a girl.”

“it’s not the end of the world, you know.”

“yeah, except it kind of is,” jake said. “what if she’s, like, one of those people who tells you to keep it down because she’s got an 8am? i don’t need that kind of energy in my space. my place is supposed to be… my place.”

“your mojo dojo casa house?” jake shot him a look while heeseung giggled. “look, maybe it’s good for you,” he continued. “maybe you’ll stop bringing home random girls every other night.”

jake smirked. “or maybe i’ll just have to get better at sneaking them in.”

heeseung shook his head. “do you even know her name?”

“uh… i think it’s y/n? never seen her around campus. at least, not that i remember.”

“you could ask jungwon,” heeseung said. “he knows everyone.”

“yeah,” jake muttered, already half-distracted. “guess i’ll text him later. just… hope she’s not an asshole.”

heeseung gave him a look. “pretty sure she’s hoping the same thing about you. and she is probably right.”

so the rest of that week, jake was milking every last second of living alone. he left dishes in the sink without guilt, blasted music at 2 a.m. and walked around in just a towel after showers. it was good, chaotic and messy, but his kind of good. in a few days, there’d be another person in his space, and even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he wasn’t sure how much of himself he’d have to hide.

by wednesday, he had a lecture he couldn’t skip. attendance was part of the grade, and he’d already missed two. the class was one of those electives that pretended to be chill but always devolved into debates that dragged on way too long. he was used to zoning out, tossing in a comment or two just to keep his participation points. that day, though, the professor brought up some case study about media ethics, and jake, half out of boredom, half for fun, threw in a take that was just controversial enough to get people talking. what he didn’t expect was someone immediately firing back.

“that’s a terrible point,” a voice cut through from somewhere to his left, sharp enough to pull his attention off the professor.

jake turned his head, eyebrows lifting. you were a few rows over, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed like you’d been waiting for him to slip up just so you could pounce. you didn’t look nervous, or even slightly unsure, more like you were daring him to keep going.

“no, it’s not,” jake said easily, because there was no way he was letting some random girl dismantle him in front of the whole class.

“it is,” you said, tone flat, almost bored. “you’re just defending it because you think sounding confident is the same thing as being right.”

he scoffed, leaning forward in his seat. “and you’re disagreeing because you think being loud makes you smarter.”

for half a second, your mouth twitched, like you were fighting the urge to smile, but instead you sat up straighter, eyes locking on him as you launched into a rapid fire breakdown of why his take didn’t hold up. it wasn’t just a counterpoint; it was methodical, and you didn’t give him a second to slip in until you were done. he waited for the last word to leave your mouth before firing back, picking apart your logic, throwing in examples just to push your buttons. you didn’t flinch. if anything, you seemed more energized by the challenge, cutting him off mid-sentence, shaking your head with this smug little tilt that made his jaw tighten. within minutes, the rest of the class wasn’t even pretending to follow along with the lecture — they were watching you and him volley arguments. the professor didn’t step in right away, probably curious to see who would outlast the other. when he finally did, there was the faintest smile on his face. “alright, i think we’ll stop here. thanks to jake and y/n, for the spirited contribution today.”

the name landed like a coin dropping in his head. y/n. so this was you. his new roommate. he sat back in his chair, eyes still on you as you looked away like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just gone toe-to-toe with him for fifteen straight minutes. for a moment, jake just sat there, letting it sink in. of all the people they could’ve stuck him with, it had to be you: sharp-tongued, unshakable, clearly not the type to let anything slide. he wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or impressed. maybe both. he’d expected his new roommate to be some background character in his life — someone who paid their half of the rent and stayed out of his way. instead, he’d gotten someone who looked him dead in the eye and called him out without hesitation. and now he couldn’t stop wondering if you’d be like that all the time, or if it was just a class thing.

later that day, he found jungwon in the campus café, earbuds in. “yo,” jake said, walking up. “you know a girl named y/n?”

jungwon pulled out one earbud, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to place the name. “yeah, i know her. why?”

“she’s my new roommate,” jake said. “met her today in class. well— ‘met’ is generous. more like she tried to shame me in front of thirty people.”

jungwon’s mouth curled into a small smile. “yeah, that sounds like her.”

“great,” jake muttered. “anything else i should know? is she, like… intense all the time?”

jungwon shrugged. “depends. she’s smart, doesn’t take crap from anyone, so, if you’re expecting her to just let you do your thing without comment, good luck.”

jake sat on the chair beside him, letting that sink in. “awesome. love that for me.”

jungwon smirked. “maybe you will.”

jake didn’t know what jungwon meant by that, but he was annoyed anyway. he was already holding a grudge against you, and not just because you’d tried to embarrass him in class. it was the fact that you were about to invade his space. his space. his mojo dojo casa house. the one thing he’d been looking forward to keeping entirely his own. and he was almost sure you didn’t even know he was your roommate yet. maybe they’d just hand you a key and let you figure it out when you showed up at the door. honestly, part of him wanted to see your face when you realized you were going to be living with the guy you’d gone toe-to-toe with for fifteen minutes straight in class.

except he didn’t get to see it. instead, later that night, his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

[you]: hey! this is y/n. i got your number from the housing office

[you]: i’m gonna be your new roommate

he stared at the screen for a second, frowning. the message was friendly, almost too friendly. not at all what he’d expected from someone who’d been ready to verbally fight him to death earlier that day. so he typed back:

[jake]: so i’m guessing you didn’t realize i’m the same jake from that elective class

your reply came fast:

[you]: cool

[you]: so saturday work for you to move in?

that was it. no sarcasm, no smug comment, no acknowledgment beyond the bare minimum. like you couldn’t care less. so jake typed back. 

[jake]: yeah

[you]: i was thinking around 8 a.m.

jake blinked.

[jake]: 8 am? seriously?

[you]: yeah that’s usually when people start moving otherwise it gets late and we won’t finish in time

he stared at your last message, already annoyed at how matter-of-fact it was. eight in the morning. on a saturday. clearly, you were going to be a problem. the way you just stated it, like there was no room for discussion, like you knew exactly what you were doing, it rubbed him the wrong way. he could already tell you thought you were smart and sharp, the type who always got the last word. still, he agreed to the time. whatever. it was just one early morning. he’d deal with it. except, on friday night, he found himself in a situation where dealing with it became unlikely.

niki texted first, asking if he wanted to go to a frat party at yeonjun’s. normally, jake could’ve said no, but if niki was going, sunghoon was going too. and if sunghoon was going, sunoo would end up there. if sunoo was going, jungwon would tag along. and if jungwon was going, jay wouldn’t miss it. and once jay was in, heeseung was coming too, which meant heeseung was bringing weed. and if heeseung was bringing weed, jake had no choice. so, yeah, he was going.

the night was exactly what he expected, and every time he thought about leaving, someone shoved another drink in his hand, or heeseung started laughing at something and somehow convinced him to stay another hour. by the time he got home, it was late. way too late for someone who’d promised to be functional by eight a.m. still, he felt pretty good about himself. he’d packed up most of his apartment earlier that week, stacked boxes into his car, even cleaned the kitchen. all that was left was to wake up on time, meet you, and help move. except he didn’t wake up on time. in fact, he didn’t wake up anywhere near eight.

he woke up at— well, “woke up” is generous. it was noon. the sun’s already rude through the blinds and his phone battery’s dying because he forgot to charge it. but when he grabbed his phone, the first thing he saw was the time, and then immediate, gut-level panic set in. he shot out of bed, tripping over the pile of clothes from last night, and threw on whatever was closest: sweats, shirt inside out, mismatched socks. somewhere between shoving his wallet into his pocket and finding his keys, he finally noticed the one missed call from you. and one single text.

[you]: where are you?

with no follow up, no all caps rage, no triple question marks. he had you pegged as the type to spam twenty messages and call until his phone caught fire, so the sheer chill of it threw him off. so he typed back, “sorry, woke up late” and all you did was leave it on read. weird. still, he loaded himself into his car, already stuffed with boxes, trash bags of clothes and drove to the new apartment.

when he got there, the front door was locked. which, okay, fair. except… he didn’t have a key yet. and judging by the silence and total lack of life inside, you weren’t home. he started texting, but nothing. sent a couple more, still nothing. called, rang out. now he was sitting in the driver’s seat, engine off, staring at his steering wheel like it was gonna give him the answers. that was it, he was homeless now. he was alone, in a parking lot, surrounded by his own boxed-up belongings, slowly spiraling because you were ghosting him before you’d even officially met.

after four hours of torture, of sending countless messages to different friends asking if they had a spare couch for him to crash on, you finally pulled into the parking lot. before you could even close the car’s door behind you, he was already out of his own car, walking fast toward you with this mix of relief and frustration written all over his face. “where the hell were you?” he asked, his voice somewhere between annoyed and breathless.

you just glanced at him, locking your car, throwing your bag over your shoulder, and said, “out.” no explanation, no detail, just a flat answer that somehow irritated him even more.

“out?” he repeated, following as you started toward the building. “i’ve been sitting here for hours. i thought you were gonna be here when i got here.” 

you shrugged, not even slowing your pace, and said, “i finished my move this morning, then i went to do my stuff. what do you want me to do, sit around all day waiting for you?”

he blinked, because as much as that annoyed him, he couldn’t exactly argue with the logic. “you could’ve at least answered your phone,” he tried again, his tone still sharp but quieter now. “you could’ve told me where you were.” you glanced at him like you couldn’t believe he was making this a big deal. 

“jake, you woke up late. that’s not my problem. i texted you once, called you once, you didn’t answer, so i went on with my day.” 

he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly, feeling this weird mix of embarrassment and irritation because you were right, he knew you were right, you didn’t owe him a play-by-play of your day, but still, he’d been stuck in the car for hours thinking you’d ghosted him or forgotten he was moving in. so you handed him the key without ceremony, and then you walked him through the apartment, pointing out the light switches and the laundry schedule for the building. it was clear you’d already settled in enough to claim your space, and when he asked about the rooms, you didn’t even try to sugarcoat it — because he hadn’t shown up on time, you’d gone ahead and picked yours, and obviously you’d taken the one with the ensuite. makes sense, he’d thought, even though in his head he was trying to figure out if there was a polite way to argue for it without sounding petty. there wasn’t. 

so he just nodded while you explained which cabinet in the hallway was his and which shelves in the fridge he could use, and he kept thinking about how he’d imagined this moment going differently, maybe a little more friendly, or a little less efficient. by the time you were done showing him around, he was still standing there with his bag in hand, realizing you’d already turned back to whatever you were doing before he got here, like the whole moving-in thing was just one more item on your to do list.

and it was weird, the first day. jake was still figuring out where to put his stuff, boxes half open in the living room, one duffel bag sitting on the couch. you were around, but not really. sometimes he’d hear you moving in the kitchen, sometimes a door closing. you kept yourself busy with other things, like tidying up shelves, rearranging stuff in the bathroom, but never really lingering around him. he’d try to make some small comment about anything or how heavy the box was, but you’d just hum or nod without looking up. not rude, just minimal.

around dinner time, he was sitting on the floor, pulling cables out of a box, when you passed by. he decided to try again. “so, uh... is it okay to smoke weed in here?”

you stopped mid-step. “what kind of weed?”

he blinked like he wasn’t sure if that was a trick question. “what kind?”

“yeah. what do you smoke?”

“uh, just some pressed weed i get from a friend.” the friend in question was heeseung.

you looked at him like he’d just admitted he eats microwave fish every day. “no. get hash or something that doesn’t stink up the whole place.”

he stared at you, half surprised you knew the difference, half offended you thought he could casually drop money on that. “you think i’ve got hash money?”

you didn’t bother answering. just kept walking down the hall like the conversation was over. he let it go for a while, partly because he was too tired to argue, partly because you clearly weren’t the type to back down on random rules like this. so later, after he’d unpacked most of his stuff and was starting to feel like maybe the apartment wasn’t a total maze, he found you in the kitchen. you were leaning against the counter, scrolling on your phone, looking way too relaxed for someone who’d just finished telling him his entire stash was trash. “so what if i wanna smoke?” he asked, like the thought had been simmering in the back of his head since you’d walked away.

you sighed. “fine.” you got your bag, pulled out a small pink hello kitty case, unzipped it, and handed him a vape pen. “here. so you don’t make the place smell like cheap weed.”

he took it carefully, holding it between his fingers like it might break. “you’re just giving me this?”

“yeah. consider it a gift. welcome to the apartment.” you didn’t wait for a reaction. you just turned and went straight to your room, shutting the door behind you. he stayed there for a while, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the pen in his hand, staring at it. he couldn’t tell if you were insanely generous, weirdly controlling, or both. all he knew was that he suddenly had a vape pen and absolutely no idea who the hell his new roommate actually was.

and as the first week passed, jake still had no idea who the hell you were. and it passed with a lot of unpacking, awkward silences, and jake slowly realizing that living with you was going to be a whole different kind of challenge. he spent most of his mornings moving boxes, setting up shelves, and trying to figure out which things actually belonged in the apartment and which were just random trash he’d been holding onto too long. you kept mostly to yourself, your own rhythm never really syncing with his. sometimes he’d hear the shower running, the clink of dishes, the sound of you tidying up, but you didn’t really say much. he tried to make conversation here and there, asking if you knew where the extra hangers were, joking about how one of the light bulbs kept flickering. but you’d just hum, nod, or give a short answer before disappearing back into your room. it frustrated him more than he expected, and yet he couldn’t deny that there was something compelling about how unbothered and self-contained you were.

by the end of the week, he’d made more progress with his stuff than he thought he would, but he was still adjusting to the fact that you were this constant, quiet presence that refused to be read. he didn’t know if it was intimidating or fascinating, or maybe both. whatever it was, it made him more aware of how he moved, how he spoke, and how quickly he could lose himself in trying to get your attention, even when you weren’t giving him much to work with. he couldn’t quite place it, but there was a pull there, subtle, like he was slowly cataloguing all the little details about you without meaning to.

“didn’t you say you didn’t want a roommate who’d constantly be in your business?” heeseung caught up with him on campus later that week, walking a few steps ahead before turning with a teasing grin.

jake shot him a look, half annoyed, half exasperated. “yeah, but dude, she’s way too quiet. i can’t tell if she’s judging me or just ignoring me.”

heeseung shook his head, smiling. “so you wanted someone quiet and now you’re mad because she actually is?”

jake ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly, knowing full well how ridiculous he sounded. he had spent days complaining about the idea of a roommate, imagining someone annoying, loud, constantly in his space, and now here he was, griping about someone who literally did what he asked: kept to herself, stayed out of his way, didn’t force conversation or attention. and yet, it frustrated him more than he expected. 

there was this weird tension in his chest, part irritation, part curiosity, part… something else he couldn’t quite name. he hated admitting it, but he found himself noticing the smallest things about you, and it was confusing, because on one hand he wanted the space, the quiet, the low-maintenance roommate, and on the other hand, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you did not give a fuck. he was aware he was contradicting himself, and that made him feel unsettled. part of him wanted to shake himself out of it, to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to care this much, and part of him was quietly, stubbornly intrigued, wondering just how much of you he was going to notice before the week was over.

then, friday night, his phone buzzed. it was a message from minjeong, a girl he sometimes hooked up with, asking if she could come see the new apartment. he stared at the screen, a grin creeping onto his face. of course, no problem. before replying, he hesitated for a second, realizing he should probably check with you first, but the thought of minjeong seeing the place and giving him a little validation was too tempting. he typed a quick yes and hit send, already anticipating how you might react when he mentioned it. he wasn’t sure if you would care or just shrug it off, and part of him was curious to see which way it would go. it was a small test, really, to see where you stood in his world now, after a week of careful observation, silent judgments, and that inexplicable pull he couldn’t ignore.

so he walked out of his room ready to find you and give his very casual, very “oh by the way” announcement, only to be met with an empty apartment. no shoes by the door, no faint sound of your music bleeding through your bedroom walls. you hadn’t mentioned going anywhere — not that you had to, you weren’t friends — but still, it was weird. so jake pulled his phone out, thumb hovering for a second before typing:

[jake]: hey, just so u know, i invited someone over 

a beat later, your reply came in: 

[you]: ok 

just that. his brows knit, an odd twist forming in his chest. 

[jake]: where u at? 

he typed, almost without thinking. the answer was immediate and annoyingly vague: 

[you]: out

he stared at it, something about that one word sticking under his skin. you were out. out where? out with who? and why didn’t you care that he was bringing someone here? so now he’s pacing around the living room for a while. it’s not like he expected you to drop your location or anything, but something about it just sits wrong in his chest. and now he’s overthinking. where could you even be? and why is he suddenly caring this much? he tells himself it’s just curiosity. except he keeps checking his phone like you might send a follow-up.

and by the time minjeong shows up, he’s still in his own head about it. she walks in all confident, tosses her hair, does the whole slow smile thing she always does. “nice place,” she says, already looking him up and down like she’s rating him along with the apartment. he smirks back, plays along, but it’s half-automatic. she leans on the kitchen counter and asks if he missed her. he says “of course” because that’s what he’s supposed to say, but his eyes flick to his phone sitting on the coffee table, dark screen staring back at him.

they sit on the couch, she slides closer, her hand on his thigh, and he’s doing the whole flirty banter thing but it’s on autopilot. every time there’s a sound from the hallway, his head snaps toward the door. minjeong notices after the third time and laughs, “what, expecting someone else?” he shakes his head, “nah, just… thought i heard something.” she raises an eyebrow but lets it go, moving in again. he’s responsive, sure, but his brain keeps circling back to the same two questions: where the hell are you, and why does it bug him so much that you didn’t care about this?

eventually, she’s kissing him and he’s kissing her back, and they’re headed toward his room. he’s still glancing toward the door every few seconds like you’re going to walk in at any moment. when they get to the bed, his phone is still in his hand for a second before he remembers to toss it on the nightstand. she notices and smirks, “you waiting for a more exciting guest?” he laughs it off, pulling her down with him, but his ears are still half-tuned to any noise outside. it’s ridiculous, he knows it, but the whole thing feels a little off-balance, like part of him is still in the living room waiting for the front door to open.

and the front door didn’t open that night at all. unless you count when minjeong left. it was late, way past midnight, after they’d already done enough to wake up the entire building if anyone had been around to hear it. and that was the thing, no one was. or at least, you weren’t. and jake kept coming back to that, the quiet in the apartment that wasn’t just because minjeong was gone. you hadn’t come home. you hadn’t been home all night.

he sat on the couch for a bit after walking minjeong out, phone in his hand like he was expecting some kind of alert, something that would tell him where you were without having to actually ask. he scrolled aimlessly, checked the time, opened and closed your chat three times without typing anything. he told himself it wasn’t his business, you were an adult, you could do whatever you wanted. but the longer he sat there, the more he kept glancing at the door like maybe you’d just appear. so around three in the morning, after deciding he wasn’t gonna sleep unless he knew for sure, he finally gave in. he typed out something short:

[jake]: ur not coming back tonight? do u have ur key? i’m locking up 

it didn’t take long for your reply to come through: 

[you]: not sleeping at home 

[you]: i have my key 

short, no explanation as always, just enough to make him stare at the screen for a while. he locked the door like he said he would, but even then, he stayed in the living room a bit longer, phone face down on the coffee table, wondering why the hell it mattered so much. he told himself it was just because he liked knowing who was in the apartment at night. that was all. just basic roommate awareness. nothing else.

when he woke up the next morning, you were already home, the house smelled faintly of coffee. it was quiet, a lived-in silence. he could almost map your movements from his room. you’d been up for a while, moving like someone who didn’t feel the need to announce their presence. he padded into the kitchen barefoot, hair still sticking up from sleep, and found you leaning against the counter with a mug in hand. you were watching the coffee swirl lazily inside it, eyes still heavy but mind clearly elsewhere. for some reason, that annoyed him a little, how comfortable you seemed in your own head. “would be nice if you told someone when you’re sleeping out,” he said, tone casual, but not casual enough. “so no one gets worried.”

you looked up slowly, brows pulling together just a touch. it wasn’t defensive, more like you were trying to understand why he’d say something like that. “why would you be worried? it’s not your problem.”

he blinked at you, caught off guard by how flatly you said it. “it’s… common courtesy,” he said after a beat, shrugging like it was obvious. “worrying about where a woman is. world’s dangerous out there.”

you laughed. it wasn’t polite or restrained, and it was the first genuine sound like that he’d heard from you. light, unguarded, almost surprised at him. “wow. you’re quite the gentleman.” you took another sip of coffee, your mouth curling faintly at the rim of the mug. “did you at least invite the girl from last night to stay over?”

his brows lifted slightly. “how do you know there was a girl here?”

“you said you’d invited someone. i assumed.”

“could’ve been a friend.”

“was it?”

he hesitated. “…no.”

“and you didn’t let her sleep here? sent her home in the middle of the night? what a gentleman you are.” and the way you said it was easy, amused, not mocking exactly, but you knew it would get under his skin. and it did.

you brushed past him then, and you disappeared into your room. he stood there longer than he should have, eyes fixed on the doorway you’d gone through. something about the whole thing stuck in his chest: the way you’d turned his comment back on him, the ease with which you’d disarmed him, that little smile like you were in on a joke he hadn’t been told. and jake wasn’t entirely sure what the hell was going on with him. he didn’t like people poking around in his life, didn’t like having to explain himself, didn’t even like the idea of anyone thinking they could read him. and yet something about you was getting under his skin. it was irritating.

so he told himself it wasn’t that deep. just curiosity, right? he wanted to figure you out. that was it, nothing more. but still, when he realized you had that same morning class together — the one you’d already gone head-to-head in a couple weeks ago — he caught himself planning for it. the class started early, and usually he’d drag himself out of bed last minute, throwing on whatever shirt that didn’t smell and heading out without a word. this time was different, he set his alarm for an hour earlier, got up without hitting snooze, even made coffee before you could. it wasn’t about impressing you (he wouldn’t admit it even to himself if it was) it was about… timing. so by the time you emerged from your room, hair still a little mussed from sleep, jake was leaning casually against the counter, mug in hand, already dressed and ready to go. casual, like he hadn’t been waiting. like this was just how his mornings worked.

“you’re up early,” you said, almost suspicious.

“yeah. felt like it,” he replied, too quickly, then took a slow sip of coffee to make it seem effortless. but the truth was, he’d calculated this perfectly. if he left when you left, that meant you had to walk together. and if you walked together, maybe he’d get another piece of whatever puzzle you were. so you’re halfway through your coffee when you notice he’s still there. jake’s on the couch, legs stretched out, phone in hand, not even pretending he’s in a rush. you’re moving around the kitchen, rinsing the mug, tying your hair back, checking the time, and he’s just sitting there. you give him this look, a suspicious glance, like, shouldn’t you be gone by now? but he doesn’t move.

when you finally ask why he hasn’t left yet, he says he’s waiting. you keep getting ready, slipping on your jacket, and ask what for. he says for the time to go. you stop for a second, frown at him, then keep going. “we have class together,” he adds, like it’s a fact that explains everything. 

you shrug. “and?” he looks at you like the “and” is obvious. 

“and it’s easier if we go together.” you stare at him a little longer, just enough to make him shift in his seat, then go back to your routine without answering.

in his head he’s already decided it was a bad idea. not the worst one he’s ever had, but bad enough that he’s starting to think he should’ve just left first, slipped out before you were done, because now it’s getting weird. the kind of weird where you’re both in the same room but not really in the same moment. he’s slouched on the couch, not even pretending to do anything else, just letting his eyes follow you while you get your stuff. when you’re finally ready and moving toward the door, you stop halfway like you remembered something. he waits, thinking you forgot your phone, but you just stand there looking at him. “what?” he says, his voice almost casual but not quite. 

you blink at him, like you’re surprised he even had to ask, and then you say, “aren’t you coming with me?” and for a second he doesn’t know how to answer, because he wasn’t planning on it, and somehow you asking makes it feel like he should’ve been. you grab your bag, holding the door open just enough to make it obvious you’re waiting. he gets up slower than necessary, like maybe to prove a point, and follows you out into the hallway. you lock the door, check the handle once, then start walking without looking at him. he falls into step beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, posture easy like he’s just strolling instead of heading to an 8am lecture. 

and for a while it’s just the sound of your shoes on the pavement and his occasional sniff. the air’s still got that sharp morning chill, and you pull your jacket a little tighter. he glances at you sideways, like he’s got something to say but he’s holding it back until it’ll land the way he wants. “remember the last time we had this class together?” he finally says, the corners of his mouth lifting.

you don’t look at him. “no.”

“yeah you do,” he presses, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “we ended up arguing for, like, half the lecture. i don’t even remember what it was about.”

“then maybe it wasn’t important.”

he laughs under his breath. “probably not. but i remember you getting all serious about it. it was kinda—” he tilts his head at you, “—entertaining.”

you stop at the crosswalk, eyes fixed on the blinking red hand. “you only think that because you never have anything real to say.”

he looks at you shocked. “…what?”

“you heard me,” you say, and it’s not even mean, just matter-of-fact, and jake at this point this is how you always make your point.

the light changes, and you step forward before he can come up with a comeback. he walks next to you, but there’s a pause now, and he can feel it settle in his chest, strange. because you’re not wrong, but you’re also not someone who usually just says things like that. he’s half smiling, but inside he’s turning the comment over, wondering if you’ve always thought that or if you just decided it today. so by the time you’re halfway down the block, he decides to poke at it. “so… you think i talk just to hear my own voice?”

“no,” you say, not looking at him. “i think you talk because silence makes you uncomfortable.”

he lets out a low whistle. “wow. brutal.”

“also true.”

he kicks at a crack in the sidewalk. “and here i thought we were bonding on this nice morning walk.”

“we’re walking to class. that’s all.”

but you say it without any heat, and that messes with him more than if you’d snapped. he’s used to people either feeding into his teasing or shutting it down, but you do neither. you just keep going, like he’s background noise. and the whole time, he’s thinking about how he doesn’t actually know where you stand on… well, anything. he knows the shapes of your reactions, the expressions you make, the way you close off when you’re done with a conversation. but the why behind it? no clue. and for someone like him, who’s so used to reading people, that’s almost infuriating. almost. because if he’s honest, it’s also the most interesting part.

once you get to the class, you’re sitting two seats to the left of him. the class today is some big group discussion thing, and the professor has just announced the topic: social media and whether it’s made society better or worse. jake’s leaning back in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk, already plotting his moment. he doesn’t really care about the actual topic, he just wants to say something dumb enough to make you whip your head around in disbelief. he figures you’ll roll your eyes, maybe sigh loudly, maybe mutter something under your breath. that’s the payoff he’s after.

when his turn comes, he clears his throat, and with this fake casual tone goes, “i think social media’s the best thing to ever happen to humanity. like, if we didn’t have it, we’d still be living in caves or something.” he even throws in a little shrug, like, yeah, obviously. he’s waiting for you to bite. but you don’t. you don’t even look at him. instead, from across the room, some guy he vaguely recognizes — sunghan or sungchan, something like that — immediately jumps in. “that’s literally the dumbest take i’ve heard in weeks,” the guy says, and then launches into this rapid-fire list of points about misinformation, mental health crises, economic inequality, all tied back to the rise of social media. it’s brutal. sunghan/sungchan has stats, examples, quotes from studies. jake tries to cut in once or twice with a “yeah but—” or “that’s not really—” but he gets steamrolled every single time.

the professor looks mildly entertained but doesn’t intervene. the rest of the class is clearly enjoying the free show. by the time the guy is done, jake has been verbally drop-kicked into oblivion and is now just sitting there, staring at his notes like they might save him. that’s when he catches you trying so hard not to laugh. your head is tilted slightly down, your hand covering your mouth, but your shoulders are shaking just enough to give you away. he can see your eyes flick toward him for a split second before you look back at your screen. it’s not loud, it’s not mean, but you’re absolutely laughing at him, and somehow that’s worse than if you’d just called him an idiot to his face.

so when class ended, jake lingered by the door, pretending to check his phone but really waiting to see your reaction. he didn’t quite know why he cared at all, but he did it anyway. you were gathering your bag slowly, methodically, like you weren’t in a rush to leave. he caught your eye for a second, trying to gauge if you were mad or impressed or whatever it was he felt. “so… that guy kind of roasted you,” you said as you slung your bag over your shoulder, not even looking at him. your tone was flat, but there was something in it that made jake pause. probably because he never thought you could possibly initiate a conversation, but you did. 

“i was just… making a point,” he said, a little defensively, leaning against the wall. “i thought it would… shake things up.”

you glanced at him, brow slightly raised. “you mean irritate everyone in the room?”

“that’s… partially true,” he admitted, smirking. “but also, come on, he kind of came at me with like ten facts and three graphs and this is, frankly, your fault.”

you finally looked at him, eyes narrowing a fraction. “what? why?”

“erm, yeah,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you were the only person i wanted to see annoyed.” he paused, realizing he sounded ridiculous, but didn’t care enough to fix it.

you snorted softly, almost a laugh, and jake’s stomach did that weird flip. “you’re really trying to get my attention like that?"

jake blinked at you, caught off guard by how direct you were. he opened his mouth to say something clever, then closed it again, realizing anything he said would sound stupid. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to look casual, like he wasn’t suddenly hyper-aware of every word you were saying. “uh… i mean, no, not really,” he said finally, shrugging in a way that was supposed to be nonchalant but probably came off awkward. “i was just… paying attention, that’s all.”

you just shook your head slightly, a faint smirk playing on your lips, and muttered, “sure, keep telling yourself that,” before turning and walking out of the room without another word. jake stayed where he was, frozen for a second, watching you move. he told himself he was just observing, making mental notes, like a perfectly normal, totally innocent thing to do. but the second he saw you from behind, the way your jacket shifted and the rhythm of your steps, he caught himself glancing lower than he probably should have. he immediately chastised himself internally, straightening up and trying to act casual, pretending he wasn’t noticing anything at all, but the truth was, his eyes had betrayed him, and now he couldn’t stop tracking you. he followed you with a mix of fascination and mild guilt, half annoyed at himself for reacting like that, half unable to look away of your ass. he was trying to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal, that he wasn’t being creepy, that it was just instinct or habit or some excuse he could believe. 

jake ran a hand over his face, rubbing at the tension that had built up since he’d watched you leave. heeseung caught up with him in the hallway, leaning casually against the railing, and immediately smirked. “dude… were you checking her ass?” when the fuck did heeseung get here?

jake blinked, caught off guard. “no, not like that, i—i just… it was unavoidable. she walked past me.” he tried to sound convincing, but the explanation sounded thin even to his own ears.

heeseung raised an eyebrow, that teasing grin still in place. “so you did check your roommate’s ass.”

“you’re making me sound like a creep,” jake protested, heat rising to his face despite his attempt at nonchalance.

“you are a little bit creepy, to be fair,” heeseung said flatly, shrugging.

jake groaned, spinning his hand through his hair again, knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument. and yeah, he knew he’d looked. he was painfully aware of it. he couldn’t deny that you were attractive: your build, your posture, the way you moved with this effortless, contained confidence. and then there were your eyes, sharp and perceptive, the kind that seemed to see everything, even if you said nothing. he was aware of all of it, aware that you had this pull on him he didn’t want to admit, aware that your quiet, self-contained presence made every glance he stole more intense than it should be.

heeseung laughed, shaking his head like he’d just figured out jake’s secret. “man, you’re doomed,” he said, nudging jake lightly. “you’re already halfway in over your head.” jake rolled his eyes, but inside he was already replaying the way you’d walked past, how the jacket shifted over your shoulders, the calm, almost indifferent way you moved. he’d caught himself staring, yeah, but he didn’t care to admit it, not to anyone. it was one more thing about you he couldn’t figure out, one more reason he was quietly, stubbornly fascinated, and even though he’d never say it aloud, part of him couldn’t wait to see what else about you would catch his attention.

and that first month after jake checked you out, went by in a weird blur. not weird in the sense that anything dramatic happened, but in the way where jake kept catching himself noticing things he swore he wouldn’t care about. you were quiet, which he expected and knew. what he didn’t expect was how the silence wasn’t awkward, but it was steady. you didn’t give much away, not about your life, not about your family, not even about basic stuff like what you did on weekends before moving in. you always had this wall up, and he couldn’t tell if it was intentional or just the way you were. still, every once in a while, out of nowhere, you’d drop a sarcastic comment that was so perfectly timed it threw him off. it wasn’t often, but when it happened, he caught himself laughing harder than he probably should’ve.

he tried to test the waters sometimes, inviting people over just to see if you’d react. girls, friends, whoever. and honestly, you didn’t. if anything, you were almost too chill about it. you’d disappear into your room, door closed, headphones probably on, and not make a sound. the first time it happened, he thought maybe you’d get annoyed, or passive aggressive, but you didn’t. you didn’t even seem to care. and that made him feel guilty in a way he couldn’t explain. like, you were being way too decent about it for him to even think about making noise on purpose. he considered it once, just to see if you’d snap, but then he imagined how shitty it would be if you did that to him, so he didn’t.

with his friends, you were a little different. sometimes you’d come out and say hi, mostly if jungwon was around, since you already knew him. you talked to him more than the others, and jake noticed that too. you weren’t rude to the rest, but you didn’t go out of your way to interact either. it wasn’t that you were antisocial, more that you just didn’t give out pieces of yourself easily. and that became the part jake couldn’t stop circling back to.

what threw him most was how the tension kept building, even when nothing was really happening. the more you stayed closed off, the more he wanted to know. it didn’t help that every time he called someone over, it felt emptier than it used to. he didn’t know when it shifted, but it did. before, having a girl over was automatic, easy. now, after a couple weeks, it just didn’t feel the same and he didn’t even know why. the excuse he told himself was that he was busy, but deep down he wondered if it was because of you. he hated that thought, so he shoved it down, but it lingered anyway.

some nights he caught himself with the dumbest thing in his head, thinking you were kind of a shadow holding him hostage. he’d laugh to himself, because obviously it wasn’t that deep, but then again, the words fit in a way he didn’t want to admit. he’d think about it when he was lying awake, about how he hadn’t wanted a roommate in the first place, and now that he had one, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he didn’t know about you. 

and then you told him you were having someone over. first time ever. no warning, no buildup, just said it casually like it wasn’t a big deal. but it was for him, at least. he tried not to make a face, though his brain immediately went into overdrive. someone over? who? what kind of someone? was this, like, a friend situation or more than that? he didn’t know if it was his place to even ask. you’d made it pretty clear from the beginning that there was space between you two, that you weren’t looking to blur lines. and since you never asked him anything about his own business, it felt wrong to pry into yours.

still, the curiosity was eating him alive. he asked the only question that came to his head: if you wanted him to leave. the second he said it, he regretted it, because there was nothing in the world he wanted less than leaving. but he said it anyway, tried to make it sound casual, then added if you wanted him locked in his room instead. you barely looked up from what you were doing. “do whatever you want,” you said, and that got him. it was nothing, just three words, but it stuck like a thorn.

later, when the knock came at the door, he was already in his room pretending to be busy, except he wasn’t. he was standing near the door with his phone in his hand, not even scrolling, just waiting. he opened it a crack when he heard your voice, enough to press his ear to the wood like some kind of loser. the voice that answered you was familiar: beomgyu. of course, it made perfect sense. he knew him from campus, mostly through heeseung, since the two of them were basically glued together in that haze of weed smoke. he wasn’t surprised you knew him too, and it also tracked. he remembered the vape pen you’d handed him the first day you moved in. he’d never actually seen you smoke in the apartment or even outside, but he had the sense you did. actually, jake never really saw you doing anything at all. so he listened in without shame. your voices were close, just muffled enough through the wood to make him lean harder. “you’re not alone?” beomgyu asked at some point.

“no,” you said. “jake’s here.”

there was a pause before beomgyu spoke again, casual, almost nosy: “you guys getting along?”

“it’s not like we interact that much,” you replied easily, like it wasn’t anything. “but i’d say yeah, it’s fine.” and he froze at that. not like we interact that much. it was true, technically. still, hearing it out loud made something twist in his stomach. it wasn’t an insult, not even close, but he stood there staring at the door like he’d just been punched. so he waited for more, but you and beomgyu moved on to something else he couldn’t quite catch. he didn’t realize until then how ridiculous he must’ve looked: half crouched, ear glued to the door, but he stayed there anyway.

eventually, you and beomgyu went to your room. the realization left him with this strange knot in his stomach. he couldn’t tell if it was jealousy or just curiosity, or maybe both at the same time. he hated that he couldn’t put a name to it. he tried to ignore it, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, but the longer he sat there, the worse it got. eventually he gave up and got out of his room. he told himself he just wanted water, and that if he happened to run into beomgyu on the way, it wouldn’t even be weird. as long as beomgyu had his clothes on, it would be fine. he padded out into the kitchen, pretending to be casual, but his ears were tuned to your room. that’s when he heard your laugh. not the polite little chuckle you gave, but a loud laugh, the kind that broke out without you trying to hold it back. and it was beomgyu who made you laugh like that. jake stood there with the fridge door open, not even grabbing anything, just frowning at the sound like it personally offended him.

and then there was the smell. faint at first, but it didn’t take long to confirm. weed. you and beomgyu were smoking inside your room. jake shut the fridge, leaned on the counter, and tried to process that. he could feel himself spiraling, pacing a little, walking back and forth because he couldn’t sit still. the laugh still echoed in his head, mixed with the smoke that somehow seeped into the hall. after a while, the sound died down. no more laughter, no more voices, just silence. that was worse than hearing you laugh. jake went back to his room and then left it again almost immediately, too restless. he didn’t know what to do with himself. he hated the idea that out of every guy you could have decided to let into your room, it was beomgyu.

the thing was, jake actually liked beomgyu before this. he thought he was funny in that stupid way that worked in groups. he wasn’t the kind of guy jake ever thought of as competition, because why would he? beomgyu was the type who got away with everything because no one could ever be mad at him for long. but now that jake knew you were close to him, suddenly all the little things he’d brushed off about beomgyu started to bother him. his jokes weren’t that clever, he laughed at his own comments too much, he had this way of talking like he knew everything, and it grated on jake’s nerves. and the fact that you, out of all people, thought he was worth laughing with made jake’s chest feel tight. 

and after a while, beomgyu left your room, you right behind him. jake was sitting on the couch with the tv on, some random show playing, though he hadn’t registered a single line of dialogue. he just wanted to be there, in plain sight, like some kind of silent reminder that this was still his apartment too. beomgyu walked out looking way too comfortable, way too casual for jake’s taste. he greeted jake like they were the best of friends, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. and sure, they weren’t strangers. they’d hung out a couple times, he was funny, easy to get along with. but right now jake didn’t care. he forced a smile, threw out a polite “hey man,” but his jaw was tight, and he knew his expression wasn’t fooling anyone.

you followed close behind, hair a little messy, eyes bright, clearly in a good mood. when beomgyu said goodbye, he leaned down and hugged you, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “later, we’ll finish severance,” he said casually, like it was already an established ritual.

that one line stuck to jake’s ribs more than he wanted it to. severance. he didn’t even know you were watching that. now apparently you were watching it with beomgyu. his brain started filing through everything he knew about you, like he was trying to build some complete picture and somehow come out on top of it. he knew you had those hello kitty mugs in the kitchen, the kuromi dish towel, the snoopy blanket folded on your bed. so he knew you liked hello kitty and snoopy. he’d seen you drink coffee so watered down he almost called it tea. he’d heard you listening to old one direction songs, he knew you wore vanilla perfume, he knew you were friends with sakura and that once you’d worked on some project with jungwon, and that is how you got to know him. he knew all that. and now he had to add this new thing to the list, you were watching severance with beomgyu. and he didn’t know what you and beomgyu had, or if he even wanted to know. but it gnawed at him anyway, the idea that beomgyu had a piece of you he didn’t.

when beomgyu left, he said “see you, bro,” and jake nodded with the fakest polite smile, jaw tight. he wasn’t mad at beomgyu specifically, not really. but he was mad. he didn’t even know at what. maybe himself. maybe the fact that he didn’t know what the hell was going on in the room next to his.

when the door shut, you came back into the living room, and jake turned his head, voice low and even, like he was casually making conversation. “you were smoking?”

you froze for a second and then shrugged, reaching for something in the kitchen. “yeah. sorry if the smell bothered you.”

“didn’t bother me,” he said quickly. “i smoke all the time and you’ve never said anything.”

you looked back at him, eyebrows raised. “as long as you’re not smoking weed that stinks up the whole apartment, i don’t care.” you laughed a little, and jake felt the sound sit differently in his chest, lighter than before, like the tension had finally shifted. so he just tried to shoot his shot, because you were apparently in a good mood. and he hated that this probably had something to do with freaking beomgyu.

you busied yourself in the kitchen, pulling things out for a late snack, and jake found himself staring, debating if he should shut up or just ask. he leaned back, pretending casual. “so… you and beomgyu, then? i wouldn’t have guessed.”

the second the words left him, you burst out laughing. not a small laugh either, but a full, loud one that echoed through the place. you turned around, hand still holding whatever you’d grabbed from the fridge, and shook your head at him. “jake. beomgyu is my cousin!”

his brain short-circuited. he sat there, stone-faced, but inside he wanted to hit his head against the wall. hours. he’d spent hours stewing, imagining you making out with someone in the room next to his. all that, just for you to be hanging out with family. “oh,” he said finally, trying to keep it cool, but his voice cracked slightly at the end. he cleared his throat. “i—”

you were still laughing, wiping under your eye like you might tear up from how hard it hit you. “you thought—oh my god, you thought we were…?”

“i didn’t think anything,” he cut in, sharp, defensive. “just asked. chill.”

you grinned at him, knowing you’d hit a nerve. “yeah, sure. you didn’t think anything.”

jake pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, eyes flicking back to the tv, but all he could hear was your laugh ringing in the kitchen and the absolute humiliation settling in his stomach. maybe he was losing it. maybe he was reading way too much into things. maybe he just really, really hated not knowing anything about you so he was starting to make things up. so later that night he ended up doing the worst possible thing, which was talking to sunghoon and heeseung about it. and those two should not be trusted with advice, ever. they were sitting around in heeseung’s living room, controllers in hand, when jake let it slip, just needing to get it off his chest. “dude, if you wanna know more about her, it’s not that deep,” sunghoon said, not even looking up from the screen. “just… ask. or, i don’t know, pay attention.”

“yeah,” heeseung added, stretching. “you follow her on instagram, right? that’s step one.”

jake shook his head. “i don’t follow her.”

both of them turned to look at him like he’d confessed to a crime. “but you’ve stalked her, obviously,” sunghoon said.

“yeah,” jake admitted immediately. “of course i did. but she doesn’t have anything posted. she’s super low profile. it’s useless.”

they nodded like this was the biggest tragedy they’d ever heard, and then heeseung leaned in, annoyingly calm. “the only reason you’re going crazy about this is because you don’t know if she’s single.”

“that’s not it,” jake snapped back a little too quickly, a little too defensive. but it was kind of it. not all of it, but a piece. the truth was he’d been catching himself noticing you in ways he didn’t want to admit. at first it was just the obvious things, like your face, the way your hair always looked like you didn’t think about it too hard but it still landed perfectly. then it was smaller things, like the way you tilt your head when you’re listening to someone, or how your hands move when you’re talking, like your words can’t quite keep up. he didn’t want to be one of those guys who sits there cataloging every detail, but he couldn’t help it. he’d catch himself watching the way you crossed your legs, or the way you leaned forward when you laughed, and then immediately look away like he hadn’t been staring. it wasn’t even about being smooth or making a move, it was just the fact that you were magnetic in this casual, almost annoying way. and he hated that he noticed all of it, hated that every time you walked out of a room he was replaying little flashes of how you looked without meaning to.

so yeah, he wanted to know if you were single. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but it just stuck in his head after the whole beomgyu thing. so later that week, he brought it up to jungwon in the most casual way he could manage, like it was just some random passing thought. he mentioned the whole situation, how he thought beomgyu was something else and how embarrassing it was to find out he wasn’t. jungwon listened, eyebrows slightly raised, and then cut straight to the point. “so you want to know if she’s single?”

jake nearly choked. “no, no, i mean, not really. i was just curious because i thought beomgyu was, you know, something. but i was wrong, so…” he trailed off, trying to look unbothered.

jungwon, who was sharper than he ever let on, tilted his head. “look, i don’t know either. she’s pretty closed off. but i don’t think so. never saw her with anyone.” so that was useless. jake got nothing out of it, except more confusion. but then he remembered something heeseung had said the night before, in one of those stupid conversations they always had. heeseung had said, if you want to know how a girl feels about you, just see how she reacts to your body. which was ridiculous advice, borderline dumb, and jake wasn’t going to actually be weird about it. but the thought stuck in his head anyway.

so on friday, he decided to test it. he walked out of the bathroom with only a towel around his hips, though he had underwear on underneath just in case of a worst case scenario. he slowed his pace on purpose, trying to look normal but also making sure he was giving enough time for it to register. you were on the couch, legs curled under you, your kindle in hand. you looked up the second he stepped out, and your eyes went wide. “what the fuck.”

he froze mid-step, doing his best to look surprised. “oh my god, sorry, i thought you weren’t home.”

you stared at him, unimpressed. “you literally saw me when you went into the bathroom.”

he pressed his lips together, pretending to think. “oh, did i? must’ve forgot.” he said it with that smug little edge to his voice, and then walked off to his room like nothing happened. but he noticed the way your cheeks went a little red. you didn’t choke on air or drop your kindle obviously, but it was a reaction, just this tiny shift, like your body betrayed you for a second. he saw your eyes flicker over his torso quickly before darting straight back down to your kindle, like you hadn’t seen a thing at all. like you weren’t even aware you’d done it. and jake, being jake, stood there for half a second longer than he should’ve, towel secured, trying not to smirk too obviously. because yeah, maybe heeseung’s advice was dumb. actually, no — heeseung’s advice was dumb. but for the first time, jake thought it might not have been completely useless. 

so after that day, he started testing it, but nothing obvious, nothing that would make you call him out. he’d come back from the gym and not bother putting on a hoodie, just a loose tank that clung a little too much, shoulders still damp. he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to flex, just walked past you while you were on the couch and pretended not to notice when your eyes flicked up and then back down to your kindle or your phone. and he pretended even harder not to notice the way your ears went pink. sometimes he’d just hang around shirtless longer than necessary, instead of immediately throwing on a t-shirt. and maybe you didn’t say a word, maybe you didn’t even move, but he always caught the tiniest shifts, like the way you swallowed before answering him, the way you suddenly focused harder on whatever was in front of you.

one afternoon you were in the kitchen, standing at the counter making something to eat. he came up behind you to grab something from the cabinet, leaning just close enough to tower over your shoulder. you didn’t turn around, you didn’t step aside, but he noticed the way your shoulders tensed when his arm brushed past. he reached up, pulled down the box he needed, and that’s when he saw the tag sticking out from the back of your shirt. “your tag’s out,” he muttered, and before you could react he just pushed it back in with two fingers. but he felt the way goosebumps rose on your neck, the way your body stilled like you weren’t sure what to do with that touch. he didn’t say anything else, neither did you. he just stood there for a beat longer, holding the box, trying to act normal. but inside, he was wired. because you never said anything out loud, never gave him words to work with, but your body did. and he felt it, he felt it every single time.

and jake was convincing himself he was only doing it because you didn’t react badly. if the first time he’d tried something like that you had rolled your eyes, made a sharp comment, or told him to knock it off, he would’ve laughed it away and never tried again. that’s how it always went with you; if he pushed, you pushed back harder. you had a quick tongue and zero patience for his nonsense, and he’d seen you cut other people down in a heartbeat when they stepped out of line (him included). but with this, you let it happen. and that made him think, it was throwing him off because it didn’t fit the version of you he knew. you were sarcastic about everything, and if you weren’t shutting him down, then maybe he wasn’t crossing a line.

but then, over the next few weeks, he began to notice that it wasn’t just him anymore. or at least that’s what it felt like. little things turned into bigger ones, impossible to write off as accidents. like you’d bend down to grab something off the floor right in front of him, slow enough that his eyes didn’t have anywhere else to go. jake would clench his jaw, forcing himself to look away, but not before heat rushed straight to his ears (and pants). you’d sit on the arm of the couch instead of the empty cushion, your knee brushing his shoulder, your perfume sinking into his hoodie. one night you padded into the kitchen in just a tank top, stretching on your toes to reach the top shelf. jake had to press his palms against the counter behind him, knuckles whitening, because you didn’t ask for help, no, you just let him watch, every line of your body outlined under the dim light.

and jake thought maybe nothing was going on. maybe it was all in his head, even though it didn’t look like coincidence anymore. the way you brushed against him, the way your eyes lingered for just a second too long. it felt like you were teasing him back, in your own quiet, calculated way. and that awareness — knowing full well how fucked he was — made everything worse. because you see, you didn’t let people in. you kept yourself locked tight, doors closed, curtains drawn. he knew barely anything about you outside these four walls. you never volunteered details about your life, never invited him to tag along, never acted like you wanted to be friends. you weren’t close, not in the normal sense. you were just roommates, nothing else. but still… something was shifting. 

he remembered the first time he tested the waters when you walked past him in the hall and your perfume lingered long after you’d gone. he’d said it out loud, without thinking, a bold comment about how good you smelled. you froze, and you didn’t even say a proper thank you, you just mumbled something about liking vanilla, your voice a little too quick, a little too uneven. and then you disappeared into your room, shutting the door like nothing happened. but jake stood there for ten minutes after, heart hammering, because that reaction told him everything. 

and then came the touch. he’d been struggling with this stupid package, a cardboard box of instant ramen, taped shut like fort knox. he was grunting under his breath, fighting with the seal, when you stepped in. annoyed, you muttered something about him doing it wrong, and before he could argue, your hands were on him. your fingers wrapped around his wrists, guiding his movements until the box tore open with ease. you sighed, and for a moment, all he could focus on was how close you were. the heat of your body pressed into his arm, the faint brush of your hair against his jaw when you leaned in. and then you looked up at him. eyes wide, impossibly soft, lashes catching the kitchen light. there was that tiny smirk ghosting over your lips, playful, smug, like you knew exactly what you’d just done to him. “there you go,” you murmured, almost teasing, before slipping away, leaving him standing there with his pulse thundering in his ears.

after that, he couldn’t stop thinking. he went over it again and again, trying to decide if it meant anything or if he was just imagining things. he told himself it was probably nothing. just you being impatient. just him reading into it too much.

but the confirmation came later. he came home one night, the door clicked shut behind him. his shoes made a sharp sound against the floor as he walked inside. the apartment was still. no tv, no music, no movement. then he stopped, because there was a sound. faint and muffled. it came from the end of the hallway, where your door was closed. he stood still, listening. it came again. a short, broken sound. a soft whimper.

jake first thought he was imagining things. but when you did it again, he froze. this time he thought maybe you were hurt, maybe something was wrong. but the one after came too soft, too broken, too close to pleasure for him to mistake it. he checked the shoes at the door. only his and yours. no one else in the apartment. and there was no way you hadn’t heard him come in. jake knew how loud the door was. you always heard it, you always knew. and still, you were moaning in your room. that pushed it somewhere else entirely. if it was teasing, it was nothing like before. 

so he stomped back to his bedroom, jaw tight, every step heavier than the last. he felt like a freak for listening, for even standing there. his head kept repeating this is wrong, this is way past what i thought it was. but his body didn’t match, his pants told the truth. they were tight, uncomfortable. jake was hard. and that was the part that made him feel even worse. it wasn’t just that he’d overheard you; it was that the sound had hit him so fast he hadn’t even had time to deny it. it was automatic. one second he was frozen in the hallway, ears straining, the next his cock was pressing against the front of his jeans like his body had made the decision for him.

he sat on the edge of his bed, hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing. what the fuck is wrong with me. she’s in there. she knows i’m home. she knows. the thought circled, sharp, louder than the blood rushing in his ears. he pressed his palm over the front of his pants like maybe the pressure would calm it down, but it only made him notice how hard he really was. he wanted to block it out, pretend he hadn’t heard anything. he wanted to tell himself you were just on the phone, or crying, or anything else that would make sense. but the sound was burned into his head already. too clear, too close. there was no mistaking it. and that was what fucked him up the most, that his body had answered to you before his brain could even think.

he leaned forward, elbows digging into his thighs, palms pressed together so tight his knuckles turned white. he squeezed his eyes shut, like maybe if he just forced himself still, forced himself quiet, it would go away. the hardness, the heat, the ache curling low in his stomach. don’t. don’t be that guy. don’t even think about it. but he was already thinking about it. not even a picture, not even a scene, just the sound of you. broken and soft, leaking under your door, and now stuck in his head like it belonged to him. his cock pulsed against his zipper at the memory, like it knew exactly what it wanted. he unbuttoned his jeans, just to breathe. just to make the pressure stop, at least, that was what he told himself. but the second the fabric loosened, the relief hit so hard he nearly groaned. his cock pressed against the thin cotton of his boxers, straining, and his hand hovered there like a magnet.

his breath caught when another sound drifted from your room, faint, muffled, but loud enough, enough to knock the last bit of reason out of him. he doubled over, biting back a curse, his hand slipping under the waistband before he could even think about stopping. the heat of his own skin made him shudder. just the first brush of his palm had his hips jerking up, desperate, like he’d been holding back for hours and not minutes. his head dropped as his fist closed around himself, slow, testing. fuck, this is wrong, so fucking wrong, he thought. but his body didn’t care. it only cared about the sound of you in his head, replaying again and again, and the slick drag of his hand working him through it. his thighs tensed, breath coming out rough and uneven. every time he told himself stop, stop, stop, his wrist only moved faster, harder, chasing after the relief he knew was coming, the one he couldn’t hold back now even if he tried. his hand sped up, and he couldn’t keep quiet anymore, with small, choked sounds slipping from his throat, swallowed quickly into the dark of his room. his other hand gripped the edge of the mattress so tight his knuckles hurt, grounding himself against the pull in his body.

your sounds were all over him now. they weren’t even real anymore, not in this moment, just echoes, broken pieces his brain kept inventing, filling the silence with the way he thought you’d sound. higher, sweeter, sharper. he couldn’t shake it. he didn’t want to. “fuck…” he whispered, teeth sinking into his lip. his hips started lifting off the bed, chasing the glide of his fist, faster now, desperate. every stroke made his cock twitch, leaking into his palm, slicking his movements until he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. his abs tightened, legs spread wider, the knot low in his stomach pulling so tight it hurt. his mind screamed wrong, wrong, wrong but his body begged more. he let his head fall back, throat bared, jaw clenched as his pace turned frantic. he was so close it scared him, his whole body straining, toes curling against the floor, veins standing out along his arm. then a low, guttural sound ripped out of him as he came, hot and messy over his hand, spilling across his stomach in heavy spurts. his body jolted with each pulse, hips jerking up uncontrollably until he had nothing left.

he collapsed back against the bed, chest rising and falling, his hand still sticky and trembling where it rested over himself. for a long moment, he just stared at the ceiling, shame burning behind his eyes, sweat cooling on his skin. what the fuck did i just do. and he spent a solid ten minutes just lying there on his bed, trying to convince himself that it made sense. he told himself he was just hard because he hadn’t had sex in a whole month, that was it, nothing more. it was perfectly normal. of course, he conveniently ignored the fact that the reason he hadn’t had sex for a month was entirely because of you, but no, that part didn’t factor in. he told himself he would only realize that connection in a few months, when he could actually think clearly.

the problem now was practical. he needed to get cleaned up. he needed to go to the bathroom. the thought of leaving his room in this state, cock still leaking, cum smeared across his stomach, was unbearable. the hallway was a risk, what if he ran into you? that was not happening. there was no way he could explain this, and he wasn’t ready to see your face right now. so he grabbed an old, stained shirt, the only thing he could find, and used it to wipe himself off the best he could. it was messy and gross, and he hated every second of it, but it was the only option until it was safe to move. he stayed in his room, waiting until it was late enough that he could assume you were either asleep or completely out of the house. only then did he finally step into the bathroom for a long, careful shower, making sure to clean every part of himself.

all the while, he kept thinking about what had just happened. he knew it was nasty, he knew it was a mess, but he also couldn’t shake the fact that you probably knew he had been there, probably knew he had heard everything, and that knowledge somehow made the situation even more intense. the idea that you had been aware, that you might have noticed, hung in his head, refusing to let him relax. he wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened, wanted to convince himself that it was just a random, unfortunate incident, but the truth was stuck there, and now everything about being in the apartment, the quiet, the sounds, even the thought of you, carried a weight he wasn’t ready to deal with.

and in the next morning, jake didn’t expect to see you up this early. when he stepped out of his room, the smell of coffee hit him first, sharp and warm, filling the hallway and pulling him toward the kitchen. there you were, standing by the counter, wearing those stupid short pajama shorts. his blood rushed instantly, and he felt the familiar tension in his pants. he tried to take a deep breath, trying to remind himself to get a grip, telling himself you were doing absolutely nothing, that this was normal, mundane, everyday morning stuff. but the truth was, you had never worn that in front of him before, and the coincidence of it being now, after everything last night, made it impossible to ignore.

he watched you stretch, reaching for a cabinet, the shorts riding up slightly, the way your hair fell around your shoulders as you moved. his mind betrayed him immediately, going places it shouldn’t have. he pictured what you’d do if he bent you over the counter, if you’d make the prettiest sounds, whether you liked being praised or degraded more, if you— what? he had to force himself to stop before getting hard again, before thinking any further, because it was already too much and he couldn’t let it go any further in his head. the thoughts hit him so fast that he had to take a step back and shake his head, trying to stop himself before it got worse. he let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, and that’s when you noticed him. your eyes went wide, and you mumbled, almost under your breath, “oh my god… you scared me.”

“sorry,” he said quickly, voice a little rough, trying to sound casual. “good morning. uh… need to go to the bathroom.” without waiting for a response, he turned and stomped off, moving down the hall as if he owned none of the tension in his body, leaving you standing there in the kitchen with no clue what had just happened in his head.

he could still feel the heat from seeing you like that, the pressure in his pants not going away, the way his brain refused to let it drop. every step toward the bathroom was a fight against his own thoughts, and he kept telling himself over and over: it’s just coincidence. nothing happened. nothing’s happening. but deep down, he knew that wasn’t entirely true.

“bro, i don’t think i wanted to know that,” heeseung said flatly when he and jake met up after class later that week. they’d been walking out together, just talking about random shit, and jake had dropped everything on him like it was nothing. “i don’t fucking care about when you jack off or why you did it,” heeseung added, shaking his head, “but just leave me out of it, man.”

“i need to get this out of my chest, and it’s your fault it happened in the first place,” jake said, frustrated.

“my fault???” heeseung looked at him like he’d just grown a second head. “how the hell is this my fault?”

“you said that i needed to see how she reacted to my body,” jake shot back, way too fast. “so i tested it out, and she started teasing me back.”

heeseung stopped in his tracks and let out a laugh that was half disbelief, half amusement. “i can’t believe i was the butterfly effect to this.” they started walking again, but heeseung kept looking at him like he was ridiculous. “ok, look. if she’s doing it on purpose, if she’s teasing you back, then you have something to begin with. that’s not nothing. she’s not single, right?”

“yeah,” jake sighed, “i think that’s obvious. i would’ve known by now if she wasn’t.”

“so why don’t you just shoot your shot then?” heeseung asked simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

jake didn’t answer right away. he shoved his hands in his pockets, stared at the ground while they walked. he wanted to say something like, “yeah, maybe i should,” or laugh it off, but the words didn’t come. the truth was, he knew exactly why he wasn’t doing anything about it. he wasn’t stupid, he could tell there was tension there, maybe even mutual. but acting on it was a whole other thing. it wasn’t just about making a move, it was about what came after, and that thought scared the shit out of him.

yeah, he wanted you. he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every little thing you did stuck in his head way longer than it should. but then he imagined putting it all out there and being wrong, or worse, being right and not knowing what to do next. it was easier to keep it in his head, easier to let it build up until he was alone. heeseung’s words replayed in his mind even after they split ways. shoot your shot. it sounded simple. to jake, it wasn’t. he wasn’t sure if it was fear of rejection, or fear of what it would mean if you said yes. maybe both. either way, the answer was the same: he was too much of a pussy to do it.

so that week jake decided to do the most mature thing to do: hide. in his mind, the only way to deal with this was to make himself disappear. if he didn’t see you, he wouldn’t have to think about what had happened, and if he didn’t think about it, he wouldn’t have to deal with the way his body reacted every single time you walked into the room. so he avoided you. he knew the time you usually left the apartment in the morning, so suddenly he was waking up earlier just so he could sneak out before you. he knew you usually came back in the afternoon carrying way too many grocery bags for one person, so he started timing his trips to the gym right around then, making sure he wasn’t there when you struggled with the door. if you were in the kitchen, he was in his room. if you were in the living room, he was suddenly showering for the second time that day.

it wasn’t subtle, heeseung probably would’ve told him he was being obvious if he had seen it himself, but jake didn’t care. he didn’t trust himself enough to be around you casually. the worst part was that he couldn’t even look you in the eyes anymore. because if he did, there was this very real chance he’d remember how easy it was for his mind to run away with him, how easy it was to cross that line in his head. and yeah, maybe it sounded dramatic, but the truth was, jake was exhausted. he couldn’t deal with walking around half hard just because you existed near him. the hiding, in his mind, was damage control. it wasn’t him being a coward, it was him protecting himself. at least that’s what he kept telling himself when he ducked out of the apartment five minutes before you got home.

well, that was what he was trying to do before he got a random text from you.

[you]: hey

[you]: is everything alright?

jake immediately froze. you never reached out first, at least, not like this. usually it was him asking if you wanted takeout, or if you’d seen his charger, or if you could please stop leaving your shoes in the hallway before he tripped over them again. but you? starting the conversation? something was definitely off.

[jake]: yeah, why?

[you]: you left the apartment 5 times today already

[you]: do you need anything?

yeah, jake thought. i need you to stop being so fucking desirable all the time so i can concentrate on being a functional human being. but that wasn’t something he could say. and now, on top of everything else, there was the fact that you’d clearly noticed him doing laps in and out of the apartment like a maniac. the whole point of this plan was for you not to notice. so he figured the only way out was the classic jake strategy: an excuse.

[jake]: yeah heeseung went through a breakup so im just making sure he is not miserable so ill just go there everytime he texts smth depressing

the excuse rolled out faster than he could think it through. he just needed something that sounded believable enough. heeseung was safe territory, always the guy to blame when jake needed a reason for anything. if you asked questions, he could throw in a few vague details about ronnie, that girl heeseung’d mentioned ages ago. technically, it wasn’t even a total lie. ronnie had existed. jake could stretch the truth from there if he had to. but you didn’t ask. you just read the message, sat with it for a moment, and then typed back:

[you]: thats a bummer

nothing else. no digging, no casual oh, what happened? just those three words that landed in his chest heavier than they should have. and he felt this weird mixture of relief and panic. relief because you hadn’t pressed him on it, and panic because you’d noticed him enough to text in the first place. he had to admit that part of him almost wanted you to push. almost wanted you to call him out, make him explain himself, force him to say out loud the things he’d been dodging. but you didn’t, and maybe that was worse.

so later that week, niki had dragged jake into saying yes to another party. the way niki put it was, “you either come with me or you keep sulking around your room like a creep,” and honestly, jake couldn’t even argue. he was tired of hearing his own thoughts, tired of looping back to the same memory over and over again. so yeah, fine, a party at yeonjun’s house sounded better than being left alone with his brain. at least there’d be music and people he barely knew to keep him distracted.

and yeonjun’s parties weren’t your typical college movie kind of parties. they always looked like they weren’t supposed to be fun, but somehow were. it was messy but it had its charm, and jake, for the first time in a while, actually felt his shoulders loosen up. he started doing what he usually did at these things, standing with niki, making dumb comments about everyone around them, drinking just enough to not think too hard. and it worked. for a good while, it worked. the noise and the conversations around him felt like a cushion, keeping his thoughts away from you. it wasn’t until he caught a glimpse across the room that it all fell apart.

you were there. of course you were. you stood in the corner, not even trying, and still managing to make everyone else look like background characters. you were wearing this dress that was simple but unfairly perfect, paired with over-the-knee boots that jake knew he shouldn’t be noticing but he did anyway. your hair was pulled back into a ponytail, leaving your neck bare in a way that made him immediately uncomfortable with how much he was staring. and then there was some guy, leaning too close to you, talking about something jake couldn’t hear but didn’t need to. the sight of it landed in his chest harder than he expected. it wasn’t jealousy, or maybe it was, he couldn’t tell. it was more like a sharp reminder of why he’d been avoiding you in the first place. because if just looking at you from across the room was enough to make his chest tighten and his hands curl into fists, then he was in more trouble than he wanted to admit.

so he stood there, trying not to react, pretending to listen to whatever story niki was telling beside him. but his eyes kept dragging back to you, to the way you laughed at something the guy said, to how your body angled slightly toward him. and jake realized, in that exact moment, that no party was ever going to be enough to keep his mind off you. what should he do? it’s not like he had the kind of intimacy to just walk up and say something, so he just stared, completely giving himself away. heeseung noticed, of course he did, and followed jake’s eyes until he landed on you. he laughed, shaking his head. “she’s here?!” heeseung asked. 

“i thought i was imagining it,” jake said, almost under his breath. “but yeah, apparently she’s here.”

he kept telling himself to look away, to stop being obvious, but he didn’t. he was stuck there, stuck on the way your hand brushed the guy’s arm when you laughed, stuck on how unfair it was that someone else got to stand in front of you while he sat there pretending not to fall apart. and then you looked over, right at him. your smile dropped just a little, your eyes widened, and it was clear in your face that you weren’t expecting to catch him staring.

so the guy in front of you was still talking, and honestly he might as well have been reading a grocery list because you weren’t paying attention anymore. you nodded at whatever he was saying, but your eyes weren’t on him, they were on jake. and that was enough to make jake’s stomach flip because what the fuck were you doing here? he’d never seen you at one of these parties before, not once. and he would’ve noticed, of course he would’ve noticed. he kept staring, which he knew was weird, but it was either that or look away and pretend you weren’t there, and clearly he didn’t have the strength for that. you were looking right at him, and suddenly the room felt smaller. after a few beats of mutual staring, you let out a small polite smile, muttered something to the guy in front of you, and then walked straight toward him, and jake’s brain short-circuited. don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out, he kept repeating to himself, but his body wasn’t listening because all he could do was stand there like an idiot, face blank, while you got closer.

“hey,” you said, a little breathless, like you’d rushed it out before you could change your mind.

“hey,” jake replied, and his voice cracked just a little, which killed him instantly inside.

“i didn’t know you were coming,” you said.

“i didn’t know you were coming,” jake said back, immediately regretting just copying you word for word, but it was too late. you squinted at him for a second, like you were deciding whether to call him out on it, but instead he just said first, “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you at parties before.”

“maybe you weren’t noticing before,” you shot back quickly, and jake felt that one in his chest. he wanted to respond but his brain was buffering, so the silence hung there until you turned to heeseung, who was standing right next to him. “heeseung, are you feeling better?” you asked softly, touching his shoulder with that concerned look on your face.

the problem was, heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. he blinked at you, confused. jake had completely forgotten he’d told you that heeseung was going through a breakup. he hadn’t exactly mentioned to heeseung that he said that. so now jake was trying to silently signal him, making weird eye contact and tiny nods, but that only made heeseung look more panicked. “uh… yeah, yeah, thank you for asking,” heeseung said finally, with a forced smile that looked more like he had no clue what was going on than confirming he was okay.

you nodded, satisfied with the answer, and jake was standing there next to him, internally screaming. so jake said it without thinking, “i didn’t see you leaving,” and as soon as the words left his mouth he already wanted to take them back. 

you didn’t even blink though, you just said, “i went to yunjin’s to get ready,” and he nodded like an idiot, and then of course, right on cue, niki and heeseung decided to wander off and leave the two of you there, which only made everything worse. jake felt the silence press down between you, and it wasn’t like he could suddenly think of something casual and clever to fill it with. he couldn’t, his brain was blank.

it was awkward, no way around it. he kept reminding himself you were his roommate, that was literally all this was supposed to be. you two shared an apartment, you ate the same snacks sometimes, you argued about whose turn it was to take out the trash. that’s what it was. normal. except, yeah, there was the tiny detail where he had jacked off to the sound of you moaning in your room and then couldn’t look you in the eye for two days straight. that was the part he left out of the roommate definition.

you reached over suddenly, grabbed the beer out of his hand, and took a sip. jake just stood there frozen, staring, trying not to think about your lips on the bottle, trying not to think about your throat moving when you swallowed. and when you looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, like you hadn’t just completely wrecked his self control in two seconds flat, he actually felt his body betray him. his brain started spiraling in every direction. if he let this go, if he just stood there, he’d be fine. he could laugh it off, make some comment about how you owed him a new drink, let the moment pass. but if he kept staring at your mouth like that, if he noticed the way you leaned your hip against the counter next to him, he was done for. his self restraint was already stretched thin, one more move from you and it was game over.

so he forced himself to say something, anything, even though it came out a little too fast. “you know you can’t just steal my drink like that, right?” he tried to sound casual, but you tilted the beer back into your mouth and handed it back to him like it was yours now, not his, and jake just stood there holding the wet rim of the bottle, looking at the way your lip gloss was now on the glass. and then you moved closer, enough that he felt your shoulder brushing his arm every now and then, and he swore you were doing it on purpose. you were smiling at something across the room, acting so casual, and he kept thinking maybe he was imagining it. but then you looked up at him with that expression, and your lips were parted like you were about to say something stupid, except you didn’t. you just held his gaze long enough that jake started to feel the heat crawling up his neck. he finally leaned in a little and said under his breath, “are you drunk?” it came out a little harsher than he meant, like he was scolding you, but he couldn’t help it.

“no,” you said, almost laughing at the question. “that was literally my first sip of alcohol tonight. from your bottle.” you looked smug about it too, like you knew exactly what kind of effect you were having on him.

jake blinked at you, trying to find something to do with his hands. he ended up holding the bottle a little too tight, staring at the floor, then at you again. “then what are you doing?” he asked, quieter now, like he was testing the waters.

“talking,” you said easily, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and you gave him this small grin that wasn’t helping. you nudged his shoulder with yours again, deliberately this time, and he knew it. he felt his patience thinning, like he was standing at the edge of something dangerous.

and then it slipped out before he could stop himself. “who was that guy?” his tone was sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. he hated the way he had watched you smile politely at some random dude five minutes ago.

you tilted your head at him, clearly amused at the question. “what guy?” you asked, even though you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“the one you were with when i saw you,” he muttered, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried not to look too obvious. 

you let out a soft laugh, not mean, just entertained, like you couldn’t believe he was actually asking. “oh. him. he’s no one,” you said simply, and the way you brushed it off so casually should’ve been reassuring, but it didn’t make him feel any better. and you didn’t give him the chance to respond either. instead, you leaned in just a little closer again, your voice dropping lower. “why? are you jealous?”

jake almost choked on air. he wasn’t prepared for you to throw that at him so directly. his jaw tightened as he tried to think of something to say that wasn’t a dead giveaway. he looked away, shook his head slightly, and managed a quiet, “no.” but the problem was that his ears were red, his hand was still too tight around the bottle, and he couldn’t look you in the eye anymore. and you definitely noticed, you always did. “just looked like you were… into the conversation.”

“you were staring at me,” you countered, not even hesitating.

“and what if i was?” he asked, testing the words out like they might bite back. that made you pause, which was rare, and jake noticed. it pressed on his chest in a way that didn’t feel casual at all. he could’ve laughed, shrugged, deflected like he always did, but instead he leaned in. not a lot, just enough for you to notice, and you did. 

you just looked at him, and you were close enough now that he caught the mix of your perfume and the faint smell of your shampoo. “then maybe i didn’t mind,” you said, quiet but steady.

jake’s jaw worked, and he had to glance away for half a second, his thumb tapping at the neck of the bottle. you leaned in too, closing that small gap. he turned back, met your eyes again, and his voice came out low, steady. “you shouldn’t tease me if you’re not serious.”

your head tilted a little, and you didn’t look away. “who said i’m not serious?”

that one hit him harder than he wanted to admit. he froze, his thoughts tangling up, but the silence between you wasn’t awkward this time. it was heavier, charged, and you didn’t back down. you stayed right there, waiting, like you wanted to see what he’d do. his grip on the bottle tightened and he finally said, “you know what you’re doing right now?”

“do i?” you asked, pretending you didn’t, but your tone gave you away.

and jake just stared at you for a moment too long, his chest tight, heat crawling under his skin. he couldn’t decide if you were messing with him or if this was actually happening, but either way, his restraint was hanging by a thread. jake finally swallowed, the tension in his chest making it hard to breathe normally. he shifted his weight, stepping just a fraction closer without realizing it. “i’ve been… i don’t know, noticing things,” he said, voice low, careful. “things you do. stuff that makes me… i don’t know.”

you raised a brow, tilting your head like you were trying to read him, he clenched his fist around the bottle, but it did nothing to calm the heat in his body. “like what?” you said, voice low.

he exhaled sharply. “like… how you look at me sometimes.” he paused, searching your face, seeing no judgment, no obvious teasing. “and honestly, i think you’ve been… i don’t know… teasing me. on purpose.”

you didn’t flinch, you just leaned slightly, so close now that he could feel your presence, the faint warmth radiating from you. “oh really?” you murmured, voice calm, but there was a sharp edge to it, a challenge. “and what makes you think that?”

jake had to stop himself from stepping even closer, from crossing the invisible line that both of you were dancing around. “it’s not subtle, you know?” he said, low. “you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“do you think so?” you whispered, almost a challenge.

he blinked, heart thumping, trying to keep it together. and then he took the plunge, voice rougher than he wanted, trying to gather the courage to ask about the thing he had in his head for weeks now. “the other day… i heard you. you were—” he paused to think, and then continued. “moaning. you knew i was home, didn’t you?”

you held his gaze, calm, unflinching. “yeah,” you said softly. 

“so you did it on purpose?” he asked, the words out before he could stop himself. the heat in his chest was thick now, almost painful.

you smirked just a little, teasing but controlled. “did it work?”

“yeah. it worked,” he admitted, voice low. “and it’s not just that. it’s driving me insane.”

you leaned a little closer. “is that supposed to be a warning or a compliment?”

he swallowed, voice tightening. “both,” he said, letting the words hang between you. “i can’t stop thinking about what i’d do if i could do something about it.”

your eyes darkened slightly, unafraid, curious. “and what would that be?”

he stepped closer, close enough that his chest nearly brushed yours, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper near your ear. he could feel the tiny shivers running down your neck, the goosebumps rising under his words, and it made his pulse spike in a way he didn’t fully understand. “i’d have you pressed against the counter, hands on your waist, keeping you still… telling you exactly what you’re doing to me. i’d hear you, feel you, watch you react. i’d make you feel like this, just like you make me feel.”

your head tilted slightly, lips parting, your voice dropping low, soft, whiny even, “and would i like that?”

jake’s heart thudded, heat crawling under his skin. he had no idea where this sudden, bold courage came from, why he was standing this close, whispering things he had only imagined a hundred times before. the sound of your voice so small, so caught in the edge between curiosity and teasing, made him feel both terrified and unstoppable at the same time. he was aware of the sharp intake of your breath, the way your body subtly responded to his nearness, and it sent a jolt straight through him, making him realize just how much he wanted you in ways he’d never let himself admit out loud before. “fuck yes,” he admitted, almost hoarse. “i’d hear every little sound you make and i wouldn’t stop until you couldn’t think about anything else.”

you breathed out softly, close enough that he could feel it on his neck. “then maybe i should do it again,” you said, voice low, teasing, confident.

he felt his chest tighten, and the edge of control slipping further. “yeah,” he whispered back, stepping just a fraction closer, the air between you thick. “but you better be ready… because i’m not holding back next time.”

the two of you stood there, close, quiet but tense, words hanging, neither moving away, both testing boundaries, the space between you a trap neither wanted to leave. you stepped back finally, just enough to put some space between you, giving him a chance to breathe again, and smirked just a little. “let’s see about that then,” you said, turning and walking back toward the crowd, letting the music swallow you up. jake watched you go, every step of yours making it harder for him to think straight. he could feel the tightness in his pants, painfully aware of it, and he knew with full clarity that he wouldn’t survive the rest of the party without losing control or wanting to drag you into a quiet corner somewhere.

he sighed and looked over at heeseung, who was laughing at some dumb conversation across the room. jake waved him over, trying to keep his voice casual, even though it wasn’t. “hey… i’m gonna head out,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. 

heeseung raised an eyebrow, obviously confused. “this early?”

he didn’t explain further, and heeseung didn’t press. it was easier that way. jake grabbed his jacket, feeling every second of the walk through the apartment buzzing in his pants, a reminder that nothing had changed, nothing had slowed down. he left the house, the noise of the party fading behind him, and the quiet of the night hitting him immediately. he had gone to the party to stop thinking about you, to get out of his own head, and now he was heading home to do the exact same thing, except this time there’d be no music, no distractions, no crowd, just him and the chaos of his thoughts, and the lingering, infuriating memory of you.

when he got home, jake just stood in the middle of the apartment for a second, staring at nothing, trying to make sense of the mess in his head. he couldn’t figure out what was going on, couldn’t tell if he was coming or going. was this really happening? did he actually just… say all of that to you? the words he’d let slip, the way he’d leaned in, the low whisper, the way you hadn’t flinched but had leaned in just enough to let him feel. that part of his brain that usually kept him grounded was completely gone.

every time he closed his eyes he could see you again, the way you’d looked at him, that quiet, teasing confidence that made him question everything he thought he knew about boundaries. he tried to rationalize it, telling himself he was insane, that he was overreacting, that this was all just a weird, freaked out moment. but no matter what he told himself, the tightness in his pants, the heat in his chest, the way his mind kept drifting back to what he’d whispered, reminded him that rationalization wasn’t even in the room. he flopped onto the couch, arms stretched over his head, staring at the ceiling, heart still racing. part of him wanted to laugh at how completely screwed he was, part of him wanted to throw something, and the rest just wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend none of this had ever happened. except he knew, with full certainty, that pretending wasn’t an option, not after tonight.

so jake had two options at this point: fuck you, or jack off. and obviously, he went with the second option, even though every nerve in his body was screaming for the first. the problem was, he couldn’t just do that. it wasn’t like you were some random girl he’d met at a party, or someone he could just call over without consequences. you were his roommate, the person he shared a space with every day, the one he had to see in the kitchen, on the couch, in the hallway. it was complicated, messy, and borderline ridiculous if he stopped to think about it, which he wasn’t.

so he did what he always did when he was desperate and desperate was now: he went to the bathroom, closed the door, and tried to focus on the one thing he could control. he leaned against the counter, hands moving on autopilot, mind filled with everything he couldn’t have and everything he wanted from you. he imagined every detail he’d memorized over the weeks, the way you moved, the way you sounded, the way you’d leaned in tonight, letting him whisper things he hadn’t even thought he’d have the courage to say out loud.

he kept telling himself this was a temporary solution, a coping mechanism, but the truth was, it was both comforting and torturous at the same time. each movement, each imagined response from you, was a reminder of what he was actually craving and why he couldn’t have it. not yet, maybe not ever. and when he finally stepped out of the bathroom, spent and flushed, he didn’t even try to get more water or check his phone, he just crawled into bed, muscles still tense, thoughts still tangled, finally letting himself collapse completely, knowing he’d wake up with the same tangled mess of desire, confusion, and frustration waiting for him the next morning.

and it did, because when he woke up the next morning, you weren’t home. and that alone would have been enough to throw him off, but then he checked his email and saw a message from the housing office. they’d found an apartment for him to live by himself. right. he remembered now, vaguely, that when he’d moved in, they’d said he’d have to wait and live with you until they found him a spot. he had gotten so tangled up in this mess with you, so wrapped up in every look, every word, every single move, that he had completely forgotten that part.

did he want to move out? he didn’t know. he wasn’t sure about anything right now. all he knew was that he needed to get a grip, a real one, because the way he thought about you all the time wasn’t just distracting, it wasn’t even remotely sane. he felt like his brain had been hijacked, running in circles that always led back to you. even when he tried to picture anything else, any normal part of his life, it always got twisted into thoughts of you leaning over the counter, your voice low, your eyes catching his without warning. like he was living some sort of stockholm syndrome at this point. 

and the apartment being empty for the first time in weeks didn’t calm him down. it just made the absence of you even louder. he felt like he was teetering on the edge of losing control entirely, and the only thing he could do was take a deep breath and remind himself that he had to get a motherfucking grip, because otherwise, he was never going to survive another day in his own head without completely losing it over you. he wanted to text you, ask where the hell you’d been, but he knew he shouldn’t. he didn’t know what to do with the knot in his chest, didn’t want to say the wrong thing or make it worse. 

it was saturday, so he did what he did best (better than lying, better than hiding, better than making up excuses): he grabbed a joint. he didn’t even bother going to heeseung’s this time. he was just going to do the thing he always did on saturdays when you weren’t a part of his life; smoke a joint, watch some dumb tv show, and pretend his brain was a harmless ball of static for a few hours. that was the plan. just him, the couch, and the faint high that would let him stop thinking about you for a while.

and then, of course, you came back. he was mid-laugh at some ridiculous scene on tv when he heard the door open. he glanced up, half expecting it to be empty hands, bags, nothing of consequence. and then he saw you. same clothes as the night before, casual but somehow, it hit him harder than it should have. your eyes caught his the second you stepped in, and he froze, trying not to read too much into the fact that you’d obviously slept somewhere else.

you paused in the doorway for just a second, like you noticed him noticing, and for a fraction of a second, he thought about asking if you were okay, where you had been, but the words didn’t come. instead, all he could do was sit there, high and stiff in a way he didn’t want to admit, trying to pretend the joint was helping him relax while secretly his chest was tightening. the air between you was a quiet tension, and just that brief meeting of your eyes said more than either of you spoke. he couldn’t tell if it was curiosity, annoyance, or something else entirely, and part of him wanted to lean forward, ask questions, touch, do anything to break the quiet, while another part of him was just terrified of what he might do if he let that part win.

“hey,” you said, closing the door behind you. the sound made him shift slightly, awareness snapping back to the room.

“hey,” he said back, voice low, leaning back on the couch with his arms behind his head, legs spread out in a way that screamed casual but didn’t fool anyone, especially not him. he was staring at you, trying to look effortless, but every part of him was alert, tracking you. “you didn’t sleep home last night,” he added, tone flat, pretending it was nothing.

you let out a small laugh, a sound that made him tense a little despite himself. “yeah, i thought i was going back home with you, but you disappeared.” his eyes went wide. he opened his mouth to say something, probably a defensive excuse, but before he could get any words out, you added, pulling at the hem of your dress like it was too short, “don’t worry though, i slept at yunjin’s. all of my stuff was there as well, so…”

he tried not to notice your bare thighs as you adjusted the dress, but it was impossible. his brain, already foggy from the joint earlier, immediately betrayed him. focus, jake, he told himself. just focus. he hummed something that might have sounded like okay, though he doubted you heard, and tried to put the thought of how you looked out of his head.

“i’m gonna take a shower,” you said, starting toward your bedroom. the movement was casual, natural, but it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t control. he watched you walk away, the sound of your footsteps fading, and just sat there, legs still spread, pretending the weed made him calm while in reality he was more worked up than he’d been in days. his thoughts were messy. he replayed last night, your eyes meeting his, the way you hadn’t flinched, hadn’t pulled away. the way your voice had carried a teasing edge, subtle but enough to make him question everything about his self control. he exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself, aware that the second you stepped out of sight, every rational thought was already collapsing. he was stuck in that limbo between wanting to reach for you and knowing he shouldn’t, between craving more of the teasing he hadn’t even fully understood and trying to convince himself he was fine. 

after a while that felt like hours, you stepped out of your bedroom, hair still damp, a big t-shirt hanging over your shoulders, and the tiniest shorts barely peeking out underneath it. jake tried to slow his breathing, pretending he wasn’t looking at you, though every instinct in his body was screaming otherwise. you moved toward the kitchen to do whatever you were doing, the casual way you carried yourself making him even more aware of every inch of you. he muttered from the living room, more to fill the silence than to communicate anything real. “i got an email from the housing office today,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“yeah?” you murmured back, barely glancing in his direction. “what did it say?” he asked, exhaling slowly before answering himself, like the words carried weight he wasn’t ready to face.

“they said they’ve found me a new place if i still wanted to move,” he finally said, voice quiet, almost like saying it out loud made it more real.

you walked back toward the living room, stopping a few feet from him, your eyes locking onto his. at this point, jake knew you, he knew your style of responses, knew it would probably be “ok,” or “cool,” or maybe just “let me know if you do.” that was your thing, leaving people guessing. but now, the look in your eyes was different, a little sharper, a little more present. “do you want to?” you asked, soft, but it cut through the space between you.

jake’s chest tightened. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to avoid reading too much into the moment, trying not to let himself drift the way he always did when you were near. “i don’t know… do you want me to move out?” he replied, careful.

“you can’t answer a question with another question,” you shot back, eyes not leaving his. the tension between you was tangible now.

“i don’t know, that is my answer,” he said, voice low, trying to keep casual but failing. he could feel the weight of you standing there, the subtle shift in your stance as if you were reading him, waiting for him to crack, to slip, to give away what he really wanted. and even as he said it, trying to make it sound harmless, he felt himself unravel a little, conscious of the heat creeping up, aware that he wasn’t just thinking about moving out anymore. he was thinking about you, the way you always had this effect on him, the way being near you could make him lose control while pretending he wasn’t already lost.

“i thought you did,” you moved slowly toward the couch where jake was sitting, the way you walked catching his attention immediately. his legs were still spread, casual, confident, and he was leaning back, joint in hand. when he exhaled, he set the joint aside and looked up at you, eyes locked, smirk playing on his lips like he was trying to make a joke out of something far from funny.

“yeah, you see… look what you’ve done to me,” he said, tone serious, but that smirk betrayed the chaos beneath it.

“what do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, innocent, but there was an edge to your voice that made him pause.

“you know what i mean,” he replied, voice lower now. his gaze was steady, unapologetic, like he was daring you to test him. you stayed there, barely moving, just watching him. jake’s eyes were fixed on yours, smirk fading into something heavier, more serious, like he was holding back a lot of things at once. 

and at this point, jake didn’t know that you were confused inside too. he had no idea that every time he did something small, like leaning over to grab something from the fridge, brushing past you in the kitchen, or even just looking at you too long when you were on the couch, he was setting off this whole chain reaction inside you. honestly, it freaked you out. sometimes you caught yourself staring when you didn’t mean to, or laughing at something that wasn’t funny just because he said it, and then you’d have to stop yourself, walk away, act cold, shut down a little, just to keep yourself from completely losing it. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him, it wasn’t even just that he was attractive (he was annoyingly so), it was more like your body and your brain were completely misbehaving around him. that tension had been building, quietly, for months, and it made it hard for you to just be casual, to just be normal. 

and now here he was, looking at you like this, voice serious, his eyes holding something you weren’t fully ready to confront. and part of you wanted to melt into him, wanted to say something, anything, that would admit everything, but another part of you freaked out. it was exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. it made you feel alive and ridiculous all at once. and jake had no idea that the reason you sometimes seemed distant or cold was because of this exact thing. not because you didn’t like him, not because you weren’t curious, not because you were bored or uninterested, it was because every time he was around, the tension inside you was so intense that you had to protect yourself from completely losing control. sometimes you’d lock yourself in your room just to stop your mind from spiraling, sometimes you’d act indifferent in front of him, because you couldn’t handle the way your own body reacted. it wasn’t just teasing him, it was trying to survive yourself.

and now, standing there, barely moving, just watching him, feeling the weight of him, you realized exactly how messed up and complicated everything between you had gotten. your instincts screamed at you to do something, but instead, you shut down again. you turned, walked to the kitchen, moving like you’d done a hundred times before. jake’s eyes widened the moment he saw you retreat. he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t going to let this go without pressing, without getting something out of you, anything. so he followed, until you reached the counter, your hands splayed flat against it, looking down like you were trying to disappear. he stopped just behind you, close enough that you could feel him, close enough that your spine stiffened.

“are you gonna still pretend nothing is going on at all?” he asked, voice low and calm. the words hit somewhere inside you, and you felt it immediately, shivering slightly, even though he wasn’t touching you. you didn’t move, didn’t answer, just let the tension hang for a moment. he waited, letting the pause stretch, then asked again. “or are we going to talk things through?”

you tried to speak, voice small and hesitant. “i… i don’t know what you want me to say,” you whispered, and the act of saying it made your chest tighten even more. he shifted closer, and every fraction of an inch made your body react. your muscles tensed without permission, your mind spun with what you should do, what you could say, what you weren’t allowed to admit.

“you don’t have anything to say?” he asked, a little firmer this time, not moving away, letting you feel the presence of him looming just behind. his shadow fell over you without him touching, and you could feel the heat of him, the quiet authority in the way he stood. his body was fully towering behind yours now, your breath catching when you realized just how close he was.

you exhaled, low and shaky. “i… i don’t know,” you whispered again, words barely audible, but enough that he caught them. and even in that tiny confession, there was weight.

“funny, you were pretty bold last night,” he said, leaning in even closer. you couldn’t see it, but you knew he was grinning, could feel it in the weight of him behind you. his breath brushed the back of your neck and made your skin tighten. “why are you acting so shy now?” he asked again, and even though he hadn’t touched you yet, your body reacted like he already had. you were aware of every movement he made, the closeness, the subtle press of his torso behind you.

“i’m not shy,” you whispered, your voice just audible, betraying none of the heat building inside.

“no?” he said, tone sharper now, leaning closer without really moving, letting the space between you shrink even more. “then why don’t you tell me what you want, mhm?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

his body was fully behind you now, pressing into your back in a way that made your muscles tense automatically. his presence alone was enough to make your skin react, goosebumps rising along your arms and down your spine. you arched your back slightly without thinking, just from the sound of his voice, and his body was fully behind you now, and you could feel him, hard, obvious against your ass, and it made your chest tighten. he shifted slightly, pressing more insistently, and the bulge in his pants rubbed against you in a way that made your thighs clench without thinking. a low, rough fuck escaped him, almost a growl, and it twisted your stomach, made your core tighten in response.

“see,” he murmured, his mouth near your ear now, “this is what you do to me.” his hand brushed the counter near yours, fingers curling into the edge. then he pressed a little closer,  his body pushing into yours in a way that made you shift automatically. you felt the weight, the pressure of him against your back, the bulge pressing hard against your ass. your head tilted back slightly without thinking, and a small, strained whimper slipped out before you could stop it. “mhm? are you gonna tell me what you want now?” he asked, his voice steady in your ear. the sound, the proximity, the way he was so close, made your brain scramble.

“jake…” you whispered, voice trembling a little as your restraint started to slip.

“yeah?” he replied.

“what are you gonna do?” you asked.

he chuckled softly, leaning just a fraction closer so the tip of his nose brushed your hair. “oh, y/n, you can’t answer a question with another question,” he said, smirking, repeating the exact words you’d used on him earlier. there was a pause, just a beat, as he let the weight of it settle, his body still pressing against yours, still holding back more than he wanted to.

"i want you to do something..." you confessed, your voice almost breaking, low but desperate enough that he leaned closer to hear.

"like what?" he pushed, his tone steady but he moved his hands away from the counter to your hips, the grip on your hips wasn’t steady, holding you not so gently, fingers digging in just enough to keep you against him. you could feel how hard he was, the press of his bulge against you, and before you even realized, your hips started to move, unintentional, but enough to drag against him. his breath caught, almost a groan, and then he pulled you in tighter. "come on," he said, voice rougher this time, "tell me."

"anything, jake, please," you whispered, tilting your head back until the back of your head rested on his chest. you could feel how fast his heart was beating, his breath uneven above you.

his hands moved then, sliding slowly from your hips up to your stomach, hovering lower with each inch, testing how far he could go before you stopped him. your body reacted before you could think, leaning into his touch, chasing it. "tell me," he repeated, his lips brushing so close to your ear now that you shivered, "i need you to say it."

"fuck," you muttered, unable to form more than that, your voice messy with how badly you wanted it.

he chuckled against your skin at your reaction, low and knowing. "that all you got?"

you shook your head quickly, the restraint slipping out of you in pieces. "touch me already, jake, please."

this time, he didn’t hold back the groan that left him, deep and frustrated. "fuck… yeah, okay," he breathed, nodding slightly against your temple like he was finally giving in. his hands moved lower, deliberately slow, teasing you with every drag of his fingertips against your skin. one palm spread across your stomach, keeping you pressed to him, the other inching down, tracing the edge of your waistband like he wanted you to break first.

he let his fingers linger at the hem of your shorts, brushing just beneath the waistband, making you twitch. the other hand was already under your shirt, sliding up your stomach. when his palm reached higher, his thumb skimmed over your breasts until he realized. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing a little harder, “you’re not even wearing a bra.” his voice carried a mix of surprise and satisfaction. “you wanted this, didn’t you?” he pushed, hand cupping your breast now, thumb dragging across your nipple slowly, making you whimper. you didn’t answer right away, but your breath told on you. he chuckled softly, enjoying the way you melted back against him.

“go on, tell me,” he pressed, his mouth right by your ear, “where do you want me to touch you, princess?” the name slipped out of him almost too naturally, and it made you shiver. the word clung to your skin, had your knees weakening, and he knew it.

“you know where, jake,” you whispered, voice breaking slightly, “please.”

his free hand slid down, inside your shorts now, the edge of your underwear dragging under his knuckles as he explored lower. he hummed against your ear, satisfied with how easy you gave in to him. “so needy,” he murmured, “tell me… what were you thinking about when you touched yourself for me, mhm?” his fingers flexed lower, pressing just enough to make your breath catch. you froze, shame and arousal mixing fast. “that day,” he kept going, relentless, “when you wanted me to hear you. what did you imagine, baby?”

his question left you dizzy, your head tilting back harder into his chest, your mouth opening but no sound coming out. his hand stilled, deliberately waiting. he wanted you to say it, to give him exactly what he asked for, and you knew he wouldn’t move until you did. “jake…” you muttered, your voice wrecked, your body already giving itself away even without the words.

“yeah?” he prompted, mouth brushing your ear, “don’t go shy on me now. tell me what you thought about.”

you swallowed hard, chest heaving against his hand, every nerve in your body screaming at you to give him what he wanted. his fingers were right there, waiting, unmoving, teasing you with the weight of his patience. “i was…” your voice cracked, almost a whimper, and he squeezed your breast harder, forcing you to spit it out. “i was imagining you touching me. like this.”

he hummed low in his throat, a cruel little sound that vibrated against your ear. “yeah? go on.” his hand slid lower, pressing down, reminding you where he could take this.

your thighs squeezed around his hand but you forced yourself to keep speaking. “i imagined… you putting your fingers inside me.”

he let out a quiet laugh, smug, hot against your skin. “fuck, that’s what you were thinking about? me—fucking you with my fingers while you moaned loud enough to let me know? you wanted me to hear, didn’t you?”

“jake—” your protest melted into a whimper when his fingers finally moved. he propped them under the thin fabric of your underwear, dragging slow circles right where you ached for him.

“so wet,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, “all this because of me? jesus, baby.” he didn’t even rush, dragging his fingers in lazy motions, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to drive you insane before giving you more. “this is what you were thinking about that day, huh?” he pressed, his voice sharp now, almost mocking. “lying there, knowing i was listening, spreading your legs and wishing it was me?”

your mouth fell open, a broken sound leaving your throat as he slipped two fingers between your folds. “fuck—” he hissed when he felt how you clenched around nothing, desperate. “you’re so ready for me. you don’t even need to be prepped, do you? just begging to be filled.” his fingers finally pushed inside, slow, deep, curling just right. you gasped, nails digging into his arm, and he groaned softly, enjoying how you reacted to every move.

“that’s it,” he whispered against your ear, thrusting his fingers in a steady rhythm, “take it. that’s what you wanted, right? me finger fucking you till you can’t even think straight?” your head fell back, a whimper catching in your throat, but he didn’t let up. “go on,” he ordered, curling his fingers again, dragging a broken moan out of you. “say that’s what you wanted me to do to you.”

“yes—” you breathed, desperate, “yes, jake, i need you.”

his smirk pressed into your skin, his pace picking up just a little. “good girl. finally telling me the truth.” every word out of his mouth was filth and command, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “you’re dripping all over my hand, baby. you hear that? fuck—” he drove his fingers deeper, curling hard, his palm grinding against your clit. “look at you,” he whispered, low and rough, “squirming for me. needy little thing.” your body trembled, your words dissolving into broken gasps, and he laughed again, cruel and soft. “don’t worry, princess. i’ll give you exactly what you were begging for.”

he started to move rougher, his fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm that kept building faster, deeper, harder. the way he pressed into you from behind, his hips flush to your ass so you could feel every bit of his hardness grinding against you, made your whole body tense. your back arched without thinking, desperate to take more, and your arms lifted, searching for something to grab onto, finally tangling in his hair, pulling at the back of his head just to ground yourself. he groaned at the tug, but didn’t slow down, curling his fingers inside you just right, the wet sounds between you filling the kitchen.

your moans grew louder, shameless, every sound spilling out only making him worse. “you make the prettiest sounds.” his lips brushed your jaw, his breath hot as his pace turned merciless, his fingers pumping into you with no pause, no relief. “fuck, look at you,” he said, grinding harder into your back while fucking you with his hand. 

you whimpered his name, and he chuckled darkly, his mouth right at your ear. “who would’ve thought, hm? sweet little you, letting me finger you like this.” your body jolted when he curled his fingers deeper, and your grip on his hair tightened, head falling back onto his shoulder. “yeah, that’s it,” he whispered, teeth grazing your skin. “you like that? you like when i fuck you like this?”

you moaned and nodded, and the thought hit you hard: jake was nothing like you expected. way filthier, rougher, better than anything you ever pictured, and it only turned you on more, made you want to give him everything. “fuck, i knew you’d be this good,” he growled, fingers moving even faster, slick and deep. “shit, y/n, you’re perfect.” his pace grew ruthless, relentless, every push making your body jolt against the counter. you could feel your limit building, pressure winding tighter and tighter in your stomach until it was almost unbearable. “do you want to cum for me?” he rasped against your ear, breath hot on your skin. you couldn’t form words, just a broken moan leaving your lips. “say it, baby, or i’ll stop.” his tone dropped, sharp, commanding, even as his fingers kept pounding into you, and your whole body burned at the thought of him actually pulling away.

“fuck—yeah, jake,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “please, let me cum.”

he chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your shoulder as his lips brushed your skin. “aw, such a good girl,” he cooed, his voice dripping with filth. “asking for permission like that.” his pace didn’t slow, if anything, it grew harsher, fingers sliding in and out of you so fast the sound of your wetness filled the room, obscene and loud. his free hand gripped your waist, holding you right where he wanted you as he fucked you with his hand, grinding his cock into your ass with every thrust. “come on,” he urged, his voice rough. “cum on my fingers, baby, give it all to me.”

you cried out his name, trembling, your whole body arching against him. “fuck, your pussy’s clenching around my fingers, baby,” he groaned, his head dropping back for a second, overcome with how tight you felt. “so fucking tight—so desperate for me.”

the way he talked to you, the filth in his voice, the pressure of his cock grinding against you, it all crashed down at once, your body shuddering as you came undone on his hand. it was loud, messy, overwhelming, the kind of orgasm that left you gripping his hair like you might collapse if you let go. jake moaned with you, his fingers still moving deep inside to drag out every last wave. “fuck, that’s it,” he muttered, lips pressed to your neck. “fuck, i could do this to you forever.”

your body trembled against him, still clenching around his fingers, your moans breaking into soft whimpers as he finally slowed, dragging his soaked fingers out of you with a filthy sound. he hummed, bringing them up to his lips just to taste you, his tongue sliding slow over his knuckles before he smirked against your ear. “you taste even better than i imagined.”

he spun you around so fast you gasped, his grip on your hips rough, possessive, like he couldn’t stand another second of not having you face him. your back hit the counter and you stumbled, breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched, his pupils blown so wide it was like he’d lost all sense of restraint. you were flushed, trembling, your ruined underwear sticking uncomfortably between your thighs, but the only thing you could think about was him towering over you, the outline of his cock straining against his pants, pressing against your hip like it was begging for you.

“fuck, look at you,” he whispered, forehead brushing yours as his lips trailed hot kisses along your cheek, down your jaw, to the corner of your mouth, teasing, just out of reach. “ruined, all for me.” his voice broke on the last word, ragged with hunger. “please…” his voice cracked, and for a second you thought you were imagining the desperation in him. but then he said it again, firmer this time, his breath ghosting over your lips. “please, let me kiss you.”

your head tipped back a little, chest rising and falling in erratic waves, and his hand slid up your side to cup your neck, thumb dragging under your jaw. he was trembling, but not from hesitation, from restraint. “you don’t get it,” he muttered, almost like he was confessing something against his will. “you’ve got me fucking obsessed.” his nose brushed yours, lips still barely touching, his words vibrating against your mouth. “come on, please” he demanded, his grip on your neck tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you shiver. “say you want me to ruin you.”

you couldn’t even form the words, too breathless, too lost in the heat of him. but you nodded, desperate, clutching his shirt like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. he groaned, finally smashing his lips against yours, messy, hungry, teeth clashing, tongues desperate. it wasn’t gentle, it was need. pure, raw, suffocating need. his hand dragged back down, pawing at your waist, your hip, like he couldn’t decide where to touch first. he was everywhere, kissing you like a man starved, whispering against your lips between frantic breaths, “my girl. my perfect fucking girl.”

his arms tightened around you, hands firm on the curve of your thighs as he pulled you up with ease, making you gasp when your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. you could feel how strong he was, the way his grip claimed you, as if he’d never let go. his mouth didn’t leave yours, lips bruising, tongue sliding hot and desperate against yours while his chest vibrated with a low groan. by the time he settled onto the couch, dragging you down onto his lap, your pulse was a mess. your body fit perfectly against him, straddling his hips, every shift pressing you harder onto the thick bulge straining through his pants. you whined into his mouth, the friction intoxicating, every grind pulling a deeper sound from his chest.

“fuck,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to press his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still even as you tried to roll down on him again. “don’t do that. i can’t—” his words broke off into a groan, eyes fluttering shut as your heat pressed against him through the fabric.

you tilted your head, lips brushing his jaw as you whispered, smug and breathless, “can’t what?” and then you rocked against him again, slower this time, deliberately teasing, watching his composure crack.

his eyes snapped open, dark and wrecked, a strained chuckle escaping him. “you think you’re funny?” his grip tightened, pulling your body flush against his, making you feel every inch of his arousal grinding back up into you.

you only grinned, licking your lips, whispering like a dare, “maybe.”

his answer came as a guttural sound in his chest, one hand flying up into your hair, tugging your head back just enough to expose your throat as he kissed it hard. “keep testing me, baby,” your breath hitched as his hand tangled tighter in your hair, guiding you down between his spread legs. his eyes burned into you, pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling with ragged hunger. he looked feral, undone, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sight of him like this, so desperate, but still in control, every move deliberate. “on your knees,” he rasped, voice dripping authority. “show me how good you can be.”

the tone made your stomach flip, heat rushing through your body. you sank down slowly, your knees pressing into the carpet, never breaking eye contact. his grip on your hair loosened just enough for him to cup your cheek with his other hand, thumb stroking across your swollen bottom lip. “fuck, look at you,” he groaned, leaning forward just enough to press another bruising kiss against your lips before pulling back. “my pretty girl, already wrecked for me. and i haven’t even fucked you yet.” his words made you whimper, thighs pressing together instinctively. he noticed, of course, chuckling low in his chest, the sound dark and mocking. “needy little thing. you’d do anything i tell you, wouldn’t you?” he asked, tilting your chin up with his thumb.

“yes,” you breathed, without hesitation. “anything.”

“good girl,” he smirked, his thumb pressing against your lips, slipping just enough inside for you to suck. you did, obediently, hollowing your cheeks around him, watching the way his head tipped back with a guttural moan. “shit, you’re gonna ruin me.” he let you go just as quickly, his hand moving to unbuckle his belt. the metallic clink filled the room, sharp, electric, making your pulse race. you licked your lips as he tugged his zipper down, freeing himself, his cock straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. he was so hard it almost hurt to look at, and you felt your mouth water instantly.

“is this what you wanted, hm?” he rasped, shoving his boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free, flushed and heavy in his hand. he stroked himself slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on yours. “you grind on me like a desperate little slut, and now look at you—on your knees for it. go on, baby. show me how bad you need it.”

you didn’t hesitate. your lips parted as you leaned in, tongue dragging up from his base in a long, slow lick that had his jaw clenching. his hand shot into your hair, tightening until it stung, forcing your head down so his cock slid between your lips, thick and aching. “fuck,” he groaned, his hips jerking forward despite himself, the sound almost breaking into a laugh at how quickly he lost control. “that’s it. open wide. choke on it, just keep those pretty eyes on me while you do.”

you hummed around him, and the vibrations made his thighs flex under your hands, his breath catching in a sharp curse. his head tipped back for a moment, chest heaving, but then he forced his gaze down again, eyes dark and wild as they burned into you. “jesus fuck,” he groaned, hips rolling steady into your mouth now, using your lips, your throat. he tugged harshly at your hair, pulling you off him with a wet pop. strings of spit clung from your swollen lips to his tip, and he wiped at your chin with his thumb, only to push it past your lips and into your mouth. “that’s it, suck it,” he ordered, voice rough, thumb pressing down on your tongue while his cock throbbed inches from your face. “you’re so fucking messy for me. you like this, huh? like being my filthy girl?”

“yes, jake, god,” you admitted, your lips wrapped around his thumb, tongue swirling around it like you were starving for him.

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, fist tightening in your hair as his other hand guided his cock back to your mouth. “open up, baby. take it all.” he pushed deep, his length sliding against your throat until you gagged around him, his groan breaking out into something almost animalistic. “look at you choking on it… messy little slut. you were made for this cock, weren’t you? fuck—yeah, you were. my perfect fucktoy.”

your eyes watered, drool spilling down your chin, and he hissed, hips jerking forward. “god, i could cum just from this… but i need to ruin you first.” with a sharp tug, he pulled you off him again, breath ragged, his cock slick and twitching in his hand. he yanked you up like you weighed nothing. “turn around,” he ordered, voice low and wrecked.

you barely had time to obey before he hooked his fingers into your shorts, dragging them down along with your ruined underwear. the air hit your wetness and he groaned, a filthy, guttural sound. his hand spanked your ass, the sting making you gasp. he leaned in, pressing a teasing, sharp toothed kiss against your ass cheek, his nose brushing dangerously close between them, inhaling like he was drunk on your scent. “fuck, i need that ass,” he muttered against your skin, voice breaking with hunger. his tongue darted out, barely grazing you before he pulled back, spinning you to face him again, eyes black with lust.

“you have no idea what i’m about to do to you, baby.” he didn’t give you a second to settle while you sat on his lap again. he took your shirt off, and his mouth latched onto your nipple with a greedy, wet pressure, sucking and nibbling in a way that made your chest tighten and your hips press down harder against him. every movement, every grind you made sent a low groan vibrating from his chest, his hands holding your hips so firmly you felt every pulse of his desire. you moaned around his mouth, letting your body do the talking, grinding your core down even more deliberately, feeling him react against you. his free hand moved to spank your ass again, rough, making you jump against him. “behave,” he warned, voice low and jagged, “i’ll fuck you when i want to, got it?”

you nodded, breathless, and let your head fall back, exposing your neck and chest to him as he trailed messy kisses down from your collarbone to the swell of your breasts, alternating pressure, teasing, making you writhe in his lap. his hands kneaded, pinched, gripped, every touch driving you wilder, and with every slick, deliberate movement of your hips on his cock, he groaned, muttering your name over and over. “please, jake, i need you to fuck me,” you finally said, voice trembling with urgency. 

he chuckled, low and rough. “oh god, you have no idea how much i wanted to hear that,” he admitted, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as his cock pressed against you, teasing your clit, just enough to make your stomach twist and your thighs shake. “fuck, let me grab a condom,” he said, already starting to move, before you paused him.

“no,” you said quickly, pulling him back just a little. “i want it raw, i’m on birth control.”

he groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made you shiver. “fuck… that is so hot,” he muttered, pressing himself against you harder, teasing the entrance slowly, deliberately, as if testing how much more he could make you beg before actually moving. he didn’t waste a second. his hands gripped your hips tighter, tilting you just right, teasing the tip of himself against your slick, already aching center. “you’re so dirty, i had no idea,” he groaned, low and rough, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “all that quiet, all that acting like you don’t care… was that all just a fucking act, huh?”

you gasped, tilting your head, feeling the hot pressure as he pressed in a little further, testing, stretching, making you shiver. “tell me,” he whispered, voice thick with need, “are you gonna be my fucking dirty slut now? gonna let me fuck you raw, make you mine?”

you nodded frantically, voice barely a whisper. “yes… please, jake, fuck me.”

“oh god, yes, fuck, i will” he groaned, slowly pushing inside, inch by inch, letting you adjust, letting you feel every stretch. the heat, the tightness, the slick press of him against you, it stole your breath. your forehead rested against his, breathing shaky, heart hammering, every nerve screaming with sensation.

“i… i can’t,” you whispered, voice shaky. “it’s too big jake,” and he groaned softly, holding you steady, letting you adjust to him.

“fuck, don’t say that,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “you can take it, baby. i know you can.” he shifted slightly, testing the space between you. you gasped, his cock pressed into you, hands gripping your hips, tilting you just right, rolling inside you with perfect precision. your breath hitched, heart racing, every nerve on edge as he stayed close, his cock inside you, his hands steadying your hips, his lips brushing the side of your neck. the tension was unbearable, every touch and shift making it impossible to think straight. “just… breathe,” he whispered, voice tight with need. “i’m right here, baby. i’ll go slow, okay?”

you nodded against him, trying to calm your racing thoughts while your body betrayed you, reacting to every little movement. he groaned low, hips shifting ever so slightly, testing, stretching, making your body writhe instinctively against him. “fuck—you feel so good,” he muttered, voice rough and urgent. “so tight, so wet… just for me.”

you let your hips move against him, grinding, matching his rhythm. “yes… jake… i’m yours,” you murmured, chest rising and falling, breath shaky, body pressed to his.

“yeah you are, aren’t you?” he groaned, a low, desperate sound, sliding his hands from your hips to grip your thighs, holding you steady as he began slow, deliberate thrusts. each one drove pleasure straight through you, a perfect, torturous rhythm. his lips brushed your jaw, neck, whispering filthy praise. “fuck… look at you… trembling all over for me… you’re mine, all mine, my perfect little slut.”

you moaned loudly, arching into him, hands tangling in his hair, body pressed flush against his chest. “jake— don’t stop… please…”

“fuck, don’t tell me to stop, baby,” he growled, shifting your hips with his hands, pressing harder, deeper. “you like this, huh?”

“yes… yes, please,” you gasped, voice breaking as each thrust had you teetering on the edge. your body shivered with anticipation, wet and slick, ready to snap, riding him more deliberate now.

he growled against your neck, teeth grazing your skin lightly, his thrusts relentless but perfectly measured, reading your reactions. “fuck, keep riding me, i’m gonna cum for you, keep going.” you arched back into him, breath coming in ragged gasps, hands clutching his shoulders as your thighs tightened around his waist. each roll of your hips sent his cock deeper, stretching you perfectly, and he groaned low in response, hands gripping your hips.

“you’re so fucking tight, baby…” he chuckled darkly, low and throaty, the sound vibrating straight through you. “i’m gonna fuckling blow a load inside you, keep fucking riding me, oh shit—” he bit lightly at your shoulder as he thrust faster, deeper, every motion precise, worshiping you with his touch. you lost it then, shuddering violently, voice breaking in a scream of his name, body convulsing around him, clutching him close as your release crashed over you in waves. he groaned, holding you, still thrusting, savoring every twitch, every cry, every gasp.

“oh shit, you came so good,” he murmured against your ear, hips still rolling, each movement carefully prolonging the exquisite overstimulation. “let me cum inside this fucking little pussy, please—”

you gasped, arching into him, voice trembling. “yes, god… please, jake… fill me…”

and then he did, groaning your name, every muscle taut as his release filled you, hot and overwhelming. he held you through it, rocking gently, letting you feel every drop, whispering filthy, desperate praise. “fuuuuck, what a good fucking pussy,” he muttered, still buried in you, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling with yours. his hands never left your hips, keeping you flush against him as he slowly rode out the tremors of his own orgasm, groaning your name again and again. your vision blurred, your chest rising and falling, trembling against him, as he guided you through the aftermath. 

you clung to him, breathless and trembling, heart racing, he was still holding you close. “so fucking good…” he whispered one last time, lips brushing yours, still warm and soaked from the intensity of what just happened.

you’re still on him, chest pressed against his, both of you breathing like you ran a marathon. he’s sitting back a little now, hands lazily resting on your hips, still gripping just enough to remind you he’s there. you glance up at him, and he’s got that smirk, the one that’s supposed to be cocky but honestly, he looks wrecked too.

“so,” he says, voice low, teasing but tired, “that happened.”

“yeah,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath and failing spectacularly. “that happened.”

jake lets out a low chuckle and runs a hand through his hair. you bury your face in his chest, trying to hide, like somehow hiding there could make everything feel less intense. he tuts softly, holding you a little closer. “mhm, no. look at me,” he says, his tone firm but gentle. you lift your head reluctantly, cheeks still flushed. “no more hiding, okay?” he adds, and you nod, biting your lip, still feeling the heat and the leftover tension buzzing through your body. “you okay?” he asks, eyes scanning your face. 

you give a small, whiny “yeah,” nodding, and he chuckles lightly at the sound.

“did you… like it?” he asked next, and you notice the way he paused, the tiniest flicker of nervousness in his expression. he knew that was a cheesy, sure, post-sex ask, but he had to know. 

you smirk and giggle, letting yourself relax a little. “yeah, jake. i liked it.”

he exhales slowly, groaning as he slides back, freeing himself from your walls, and you can’t help but look at him, already missing how filled you were a minute ago. he’s wrecked, flushed, hair messy, and it makes you grin. “what you looking at?” he asks, smirk playing on his lips.

“nothing,” you reply, trying to play it cool, though your grin gives you away.

he leans in and presses a quick, small kiss to your lips, catching you off guard. you freeze for a second, then melt just a little into the moment. “so… wanna talk about it?” he asks, tilting his head, still holding you close. you blink at him, caught somewhere between embarrassed and amused, realizing that maybe the talking part is the part you’re not entirely ready for, but also, maybe, you don’t want to run from it this time. he squeezes your hip gently, as if prompting you to answer without forcing it. you take a deep breath, letting some of the tension slip away.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you asked, and he chuckled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him this. 

“you can’t answer a question with another question,” he said again voice low, amused but tired at the same time.

you laughed awkwardly, your nerves showing. “i just… i don’t know, jake,” you admitted, voice unsure, looking down for a second before meeting his eyes again.

“don’t know what?” he pressed, leaning in, making the space between you feel smaller.

“i don’t know how you feel about me,” you said, letting out a small breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. “so… i just can’t figure out exactly what i’m supposed to do with all of this.”

he blinked once, then laughed low, and it wasn’t like a normal laugh, more like he was trying to process what you just said and couldn’t decide if it was ridiculous, frustrating, or the most fascinating thing he’d heard all week. you watched him run a hand over his face, shaking his head slowly, the kind of shake that made it clear he wasn’t sure if he should be impressed, scared, or both. “okay…,” he muttered finally, half to himself, half to you, voice calm. “but i get it. i think i do.” he paused, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he was enjoying that he had your full attention. “so… you want me to spell it out for you? really tell you what i feel?”

you hesitated, just a little, because you weren’t sure if you were ready to hear it, or if you were ready to admit you’d been hoping for it. you nodded anyway, slowly, watching his face, waiting. he leaned back a bit in his seat, just enough to look at you properly, like he was gathering his thoughts in real time, and you could tell he was about to unload.

“i’ve been crazy about you since the very beginning,” he said, voice a little rough, but completely honest. “back when you didn’t give me a single thing to go on, and i had no idea what you were thinking, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. i was obsessed with figuring you out, learning what made you tick. and the more i got to know you, the more fascinated i became. you’re… you’re insane, in the best way. every little thing about you made me want to know more.”

he paused, swallowing, like he was trying to get the words out without tripping over them. “then, when you started teasing me… when you started pushing and pulling, letting me get close but not giving me everything, i lost it. i thought about you all the time. every day. you, your voice, your smile, the way you look at me… i probably shouldn’t be saying this, but fuck it. i can’t stop thinking about it, and about you. and now, after… that,” he gestured vaguely at the mess of the room and the two of you, “i have no regrets. that was the best sex of my life, no contest.”

you let out a breathless laugh, and he chuckled, shaking his head slightly, like he still couldn’t believe he was admitting all of this. “so yeah… i’m fucked up about you. completely. and i don’t even care.”

you blinked, caught somewhere between stunned, amused, and something else you didn’t have a name for yet. you didn’t know if you should laugh, tease him back, or just sit there and take it all in. but seeing him like this, messy, honest, a little wrecked from what just happened, made it impossible to be anything but completely present with him. jake leaned back a little, still holding you, letting the confession hang in the air. “so… what about you?” he asked, voice quieter now, curious but still casual, like he was afraid of scaring you off but couldn’t not ask. “how do you feel about all this?”

you hesitated again, trying to pull words together, but they kept slipping away. “i’m not good at this,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you expected. “i’m not good at saying things out loud. but you… you get under my skin the same way i get under yours. i don’t know how to say it prettier than that, but it’s real.” you paused, looking at him, almost daring him to make you keep going. he didn’t. instead, he smiled, small but satisfied.

“good,” he said simply.

you blinked, then nodded. “good.”

nothing poetic, nothing rehearsed, just enough for both of you. he kissed you once, soft and short, then got up and tugged you along with him, muttering something about you needing a shower. you were too tired to argue, and honestly, he was right. the two of you had made a mess of the place, and of yourselves. he turned the water on and stepped in first, pulling you by the wrist like he was making sure you wouldn’t back out. it wasn’t some movie scene with steam and passion and soap slipping everywhere. it was domestic, borderline clumsy. he tried to hand you the shampoo bottle with too much force and almost dropped it, then squinted because he’d gotten water in his eyes. you laughed at him, and he pretended to be offended, but he didn’t actually care. he just liked that you were laughing.

you weren’t used to standing this close without tension thick in the air, without second-guessing what the other was thinking. now you were just there, getting clean together, and it felt strangely natural. it felt like the most normal thing in the world, like maybe this was how it was supposed to be all along. by the time you both stepped out and wrapped up in towels, the room smelled like cheap body wash, and the mirror was fogged over. jake glanced at you, hair dripping, and smirked like the whole situation was funny but also a little serious, like he couldn’t believe how quickly things had shifted between you. you didn’t say anything, and you didn’t need to. it was good, just good.

so the next couple of weeks were kind of ridiculous, mostly because you both pretended for about two days that things were the same, and then it became really obvious they weren’t. jake had this new way of looking at you that you kept catching in random moments, like when you were pouring cereal or folding laundry, and it wasn’t subtle at all. he was completely gone for you, and you could tell, but he didn’t even bother trying to hide it.

the first time after that night it happened again, it wasn’t planned. you’d just finished watching something dumb on tv, and he made some joke that had you shoving his shoulder, and the next thing you knew he had you pinned against the couch cushions, kissing you like he’d been holding back for hours. it was messy and fast and you didn’t even bother moving to the bedroom. later, when you were both out of breath and sprawled in opposite directions on the couch, he laughed and said he wasn’t sure he’d ever look at the living room the same way again. you rolled your eyes, but the truth was you couldn’t either. a couple nights after that, he came into your room under the excuse of “borrowing your charger.” he didn’t even bother plugging it in before he was pulling you onto his lap, muttering something about how you were all he thought about during the day. it was slower that time, more deliberate, and he kept touching your face, brushing your hair back, doing all these little things that made it feel different from before. it wasn’t just sex anymore, and you could both feel that shift, even if neither of you said it out loud.

the funniest part was how the domestic side of living together changed too. suddenly, showers weren’t just showers. one night he pulled you in with him, no warning, and spent more time kissing you against the wall than actually washing his hair. you had to kick him out halfway through because you were going to run out of hot water, and he left pouting, soap still in his hair. the next morning, he walked into the kitchen with wet curls and this smug look on his face like he’d invented showering together. he also started hovering more. if you were cooking, he was in the kitchen, stealing bites and pressing up behind you. if you were working on your laptop, he’d somehow find his way onto the couch next to you, stretching until his feet were basically in your lap. and the hot moments were woven into all of it, like they weren’t separate anymore. you’d be brushing your teeth and he’d come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and before you knew it you were pressed against the sink, muffling laughs into his shoulder.

what really gave him away, though, was how restless he got when you weren’t around. he’d pretend to be casual, but you caught him more than once waiting up just to see when you’d get home. sometimes he’d act like it was nothing, asking about your night, but other times he’d just pull you into his room without a word, kissing you until neither of you remembered what the question was. and two weeks in, it was clear jake was completely losing it over you. he didn’t care that you weren’t good with words or that you never gave long speeches about how you felt. he got what he wanted anyway, your attention, your touch, the way you’d grab his shirt first when things escalated. and in return, he gave you everything without holding back. every day, in some new way, he made it obvious. and you didn’t fight it, not really. if anything, you were just as gone as he was, even if you weren’t ready to spell it out.

later that month, he wasn’t even thinking when it happened. you had just walked out of your lecture, holding your bag against your shoulder, half distracted scrolling through your phone, and he was leaning against the wall across the hall, waiting for his own class. he saw you before you saw him, and without even a second thought he was already walking over. you looked up, a little surprised, and he just smiled, leaned in, and pressed a quick kiss against your mouth. it was just a short kiss, the kind you’d gotten used to at home when he was passing by you in the kitchen or when you sat next to him on the couch. but this time, it wasn’t in your living room. it was in the middle of the hallway with people walking by.

the moment it happened, you froze, not because you didn’t want it but because your brain immediately registered where you were. his too. you could feel the second he realized what he’d just done, because he leaned back fast, eyes flicking around like maybe no one saw. except of course people saw. people always saw. his friends were standing just a few feet away, watching everything with that look that said they didn’t need to say a single word. they’d known for weeks anyway. he’d been obvious as hell about it, smiling at his phone all the time, making up the worst excuses just to go home early, and acting different in a way that was so clear he wasn’t fooling anyone. your friends weren’t idiots either. you’d told them enough details already, and they’d connected the dots themselves.

the thing was, none of you had ever brought whatever this was out into the open before. at home it was easy. you were roommates, no one else around, and it didn’t feel like you needed to define it. but here, in front of everyone, a kiss, even a tiny one, meant something else. it meant people would start asking questions. it meant you’d have to talk about it. you laughed under your breath, more out of nerves than anything, and gave him a look that said really? here? and he rubbed the back of his neck like he didn’t know how to explain himself. “sorry,” he muttered, but not in a way that sounded like he actually regretted it. more like he regretted the timing. you didn’t say anything, just shook your head, and the two of you walked out together, trying to act like nothing happened. but the hallway was still buzzing, and you could feel eyes on your back the whole time. his friends were definitely going to bring it up later, and your friends were already blowing up your phone. 

a few nights later, you were just sitting on the couch with him watching tv, when jake suddenly turned to you and said, “you know i never actually took you on a date.” it was random, no lead up, just dropped in the middle of whatever episode was playing. you looked at him and asked, “do you want to?” and he didn’t hesitate, just nodded immediately and said, “of course i do.” you laughed at how serious he looked, like he’d been planning that line in his head. then you told him how the two of you had skipped a few steps in this whole thing, and he laughed back, agreeing, saying it was the first time he’d ever lived with a girl before even kissing her. you reminded him he’d done a lot of things with you before kissing you, and that made him smirk. he leaned over, went right for you, and things got heated again in a way that left the rest of the night blurry. it wasn’t anything new for the two of you, but it made the next day stand out even more.

the next day, jake actually followed through. he kept it quiet until later, but you noticed how he was watching you get ready, leaning against the doorframe of your room with his arms crossed and that stupid grin he always got when he thought he was being subtle. you couldn’t put mascara on without him sneaking behind you and stealing a kiss on your cheek or the corner of your mouth. by the time you finally managed to get dressed and say you were ready, you already had to fix your lipstick because he wouldn’t keep his hands off you. he ended up taking you to this restaurant you didn’t even know he was aware of, the kind with dim lights and real cloth napkins, and it felt way more romantic than you were expecting. it was weird because until that moment, you had been convinced that whatever you had with jake was basically roommates who hooked up sometimes (all the times, to be exact). he’d never said anything that pointed in another direction. but sitting across from him, watching the way he leaned in when you talked, how he didn’t even look around the room once, just stayed focused on you the whole time, it hit you that maybe he was taking this seriously. maybe he’d been taking it seriously from the start and you were only just noticing.

that month just blurred into something you couldn’t really label, but anyone watching would’ve called it obvious. you woke up next to him more often than not, even though technically you had your own room. he made coffee for you when he was already in the kitchen, sometimes adding too much sugar on purpose just to watch you complain and drink it anyway. you sat on the couch with your legs across his lap while he absentmindedly rubbed your ankle during whatever show you two were pretending to pay attention to. he kissed you in the middle of conversations, in the middle of you yelling at him, in the middle of you doing literally nothing. the hot moments didn’t go away either. brushing teeth side by side sometimes ended with you pressed against the bathroom sink. “goodnight” kisses had a tendency to spiral until you were both late for whatever you had to wake up for the next day. there were lazy afternoons where he sat at the end of your bed, scrolling on his phone, and you tugged him back under the covers just to see how fast he’d cave. it all felt stupidly natural, like you’d been doing it forever, but also new enough that every time it happened you caught yourself smiling after.

so when sunghoon invited you both to a party, you didn’t really discuss it. you just went together like it was the default. you were getting ready in your room, digging through a pile of clothes while jake sat on your desk chair, spinning slowly and watching you with way too much interest. “i’m kind of excited for tonight,” he said out of nowhere.

you glanced at him in the mirror. “why?”

he leaned back casually, like it was nothing. “because i love showing people how pretty my girlfriend is.”

you froze mid-mascara stroke, nearly poking yourself in the eye, then turned around. “what did you just say?”

he blinked, all fake innocence. “what? i just said—”

“no, no, you said the g word,” you cut him off, pointing at him.

he tilted his head, playing dumb. “g word? what g word?”

“girlfriend,” you said, wide eyed.

he grinned. “oh, that. well, if you don’t like it, i can always call you my roommate instead. the r word.”

you burst out laughing. “roommate is not the same thing.”

“i don’t know, i think it’s got a nice ring to it.”

“shut up,” you said, still laughing. “i actually like the other one better, but if you’re gonna call me that, you should at least ask properly.”

his smirk got sharper. “a proper request, huh? i can do that. but if i do it now, we’re definitely gonna be late to sunghoon’s party.” and before you could respond, he was already standing, already crossing the room, already leaning down into you. whatever thought you had about finishing your eyeliner or getting out the door on time just dissolved, because apparently his version of a proper request involved making sure you completely forgot the party even existed for at least another half hour.

after that night, things just settled into something that felt permanent. he’d hold your bag while you tied your shoes, you’d grab his drink when you went to the kitchen, he’d keep his hand on your back when you walked through crowded places. you were in each other’s space constantly, but it never got heavy, it only got easier. jake realized it later, in this quiet way that hit him when he least expected it. like when he was brushing his teeth and you walked by in one of his shirts, humming some stupid song, and he caught himself smiling with toothpaste foam in his mouth. or when he stayed up too late on his laptop and you fell asleep against him on the couch, your head sliding down his shoulder, and he didn’t even move because he didn’t want to wake you. 

he had been stuck on you from the beginning, even when he didn’t want a roommate, even when he told himself it would just be temporary, even when he thought he’d keep a little distance. he couldn’t. every time he tried, you pulled him back without even noticing. it was just the truth: he couldn’t let go of you, even when he thought he wanted to.

one night, you were both stretched out on the couch, the tv running something neither of you were paying attention to, and you asked, almost offhand, if he ever ended up answering the housing office about switching apartments. he glanced over at you, chewing at the inside of his cheek like he always did when he was pretending to think about something serious, and then he smiled in that way that was a little smug but still soft.

“oh, baby, i’ll never leave you if you keep holding me this way.”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ ronnie's notes: idk i blacked out and wrote 30k of horny roommates fic for addie @jakesimfromstatefarm, don’t ask me how but here we are. she’s jake utted, she loves roommates to lovers, and i guess my brain went okay fine and gave in. this whole thing was actually inspired by stockholm syndrome by one direction (yes, i’m in my 1d phase again) and tbh i was lowkey scared it’d be too cliche at first but honestly i think it turned out to be one of the fics i’m proudest of, especially the smut lmao so yeah this fic is horny, has way too much pining, and accidentally got more feelings than i planned. but it’s also pure fun, and if addie doesn’t scream at me after reading this, i’m officially quitting. THANK UUUUUUU

heejama's masterlist // latest fic perma taglist: @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @saeris-world @jayparked @solonenova @izzyy-stuff @gh9sty @sonaki001

© all rights reserved @/heejamas — do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works without explicit permission. these are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real-life actions, thoughts, or personalities of any public figures

[vampjaeyun]

oh my god.

[vampjaeyun]

DIRTY SECRETS — s.jy

what if you found love with your sister’s boyfriend. not a good idea right?

pairing ˗ˏˋ sister’s boyfriend!jake x inexperienced fem!reader ˎˊ˗

word count: 28.2k

genre: smut minors do not interact, sister’s boyfriend au, infidelity (but not actually though), p with plot, p with feelings, forbidden love, morally ambiguous characters

content warnings: dub-con, cheating (but not actually though), toxic family dynamics, kissing, jealously, manipulation, kissing, toxicity, jay feature, heeseung mention, marco polo (pool game), footsie under table, profanity, jake is pervy, groping, teasing, reader is oblivious and inexperienced, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, p in v, fingering, squirting, praising, dirty talk, degradation, handjobs, oral (f + m rec.), deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, breeding kink, corruption kink, creampies, facials, petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, nasty girl)

lily’s note: if you wish not to interact with this type of content, feel free to click out and not read !! please remember this is merely fiction and not a reflection of me or any of the people mentioned and our beliefs

‘Dear Diary, I have a confession to make’

‘My sister’s boyfriend is fucking hot’

Acceptance is a big thing your family lacks doing, always seeming to be in the denial stage when it does no justice to anyone but themselves.

The selfish of the selfish, only caring about themselves and how to look the best. So due to the uncontrollable association it only must be true on your end. The apple never does fall too far from the tree.

You are not a good person.

That is what you used to believe until you met your sister's current new boyfriend, Jake.

While this was the first time you were dissecting any of her relationships, it was obvious this one was different. It wasn't like any of her old ones. There were too many loop holes on how they came to be, especially when she had just gotten out of a 1 year relationship with her longest lasting boyfriend—Heeseung.

It started off as a rough patch like always until she found herself a new boyfriend to keep her busy, and you just thought it would be someone within her usual taste.

Yet, this time she was charted into territory that she would never be caught dead in but on the opposite side, you would have an absolute field day in.

That's how indefinitely you knew you were not a good person.

Not because of the association or pressure to fit in but rather because it's just in your blood.

'He always keeps looking at me even when he's clinging to my sister like a vice and it's fucking aggravating’

'How do they cross paths? That's the million dollar question'

'Usually she's the one parading her latest boyfriend around but I just guess not this time’

'All I want to know is how she stumbled upon this gem by chance'

You scribble out the last sentence and groan loudly as you end up ripping out the page and crumbling into a ball in frustration. Huffing you squish the paper ball, your phone pinged and you glanced over to see the message 'Come over' illuminating your screen.

Sighing heavily as you flip your phone over and stand up from your chair and walk out of your room to dispose of the crumbled paper properly.

You make a mental note to search for your old trash bin in order to avoid having to come outside of your room so much.

Right when you were about to turn the corner, you yelped and dropped the paper in hand when you heard the cluttering noise in the kitchen.

Rounding the corner quickly, you catch Jake with piles of plastic containers scattered around and a small pot in hand as he stares at you like a puppy that just got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes! Sorry, I'm okay. I just wanted to make some ramen cause I got a little hungry and your sister told me I could just go alone to make it since she didn't feel like coming with me"

"Sounds typical of her" You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose for a second before letting go and looking at him, "Do you need any help?"

Jake waves his hand and smiles warmly, "No I should manage fine hopefully" He chuckles and awkwardly rubs his nape, "If not you can come running back when you start to smell smoke or hear a loud thud"

"Oh don't worry I'll be on high alert" He chuckles softly and it makes you softly smile back before clearing your throat at the awkward silence, "Well uhm l'm gonna go, please don't blow up our house "

"Can't make any promises"

You give a tight smile as you quickly speedwalk away as fast as you could before it can be considered running.

Grumbling under your breath when you made it back your room, you thump your head back against the door and closed yours eyes with a deep sigh, "She doesn't deserve him"

"Hey wait!" Jake calls out when he sees the balled paper sitting perfectly where you once stood but sighs heavily when he realizes you were gone

He stoops down and picks up the discarded paper and he knows he should be more mindful to not read it. But, he's a curious person.

He unfolds the paper and once it's flattened out just enough, he glances over it and proceeds to reread the note or more like diary entry way more than he would like to admit.

There was a beating in his chest that he couldn't control and the small smile grew wider until his teeth were showing. Trying to hide it with a hand over his mouth as he kept repeating the first two sentences.

'Dear diary, I have a confession to make'

'My sister's boyfriend is fucking hot'

Jake gulps down his happiness to neatly fold the wrinkled paper and tuck into his pocket, "Your dirty secret is safe with me"

⊹ ࣪ ˖

You were tiptoeing out of your room, biting down on your tongue to hold back a hiss for the loud click of the closing door behind you echoing in the dead silent house.

Stopping dead in your tracks to roam your eyes around the empty hallway. When noticing it didn’t alarm anyone you sighed out in relief. Only managing to take two steps from your door until you nearly jumped out of your skin at the soft whisper, “Heading out somewhere?”

You tensed recognizing the deep accented voice before painfully turning around to see your sister’s boyfriend standing straight with an empty bowl in hand.

“What are you still doing up?” Your quiet whisper made Jake look at you up and down, taking in your appearance with thin lips as his grip around the bowl tightened

“I could ask you the same, where are you going so.. Dolled up?” Jake watched how you deviated your gaze away from him when questioned

It hadn’t even been less than an hour ago where you caught him making a mess in your kitchen just to make a bowl of ramen. Now he’s catching you crawling out of your room to go somewhere that isn’t your home.

Jake looked at you as the words of the paper tucked away safely in his pocket rang through his head. He shuffles his weight between his feet, you were still yet to find out he picked up the dropped diary entry.

‘Dear diary, I have a confession to make’

‘My sister’s boyfriend is fucking hot’

His mouth runs dry, he tries to swallow the lump and covers it by his mouth turns into a slight pout as you notice the change of expression.

A burning warmth spreads across your cheek as an unease settles in your body the longer you’re in his presence. “I was just“

“Sneaking out to go to her little boyfriend’s house” A third voice chimed in and recognizing it anywhere, you look to your sister emerging from her room and walking towards the both of you

“He’s not my boyfriend” You quickly snapped but she waved you off with a laugh and ignored the harsh glare you sent her

Unbeknownst of the look Jake shot your way the moment he heard your sister’s words—a failure to mention that minor detail, his eyes raked back over you, his bottom lip pouting out more.

“Right, he’s just a friend” She put the last words in air quotes before laughing a scoff and wrapping her hands around Jake’s bicep giving him a smile before looking back at you, “Go while I’m still in a good mood”

“Unless you want me to tell mom and dad you’re sneaking out again” You narrowed your gaze, the heavier glare sent to not phasing her in the slightest

Moving your lips in an uncomfortable manner, you bite on your tongue and turn a sharp heel to head towards the front door without a word.

“Such a brat” Your sister rolled her eyes before tugging at Jake, “You still haven’t put the bowl away in the kitchen? Whatever let’s go to bed, I’m tired”

Jake’s eyes remained where you once stood before a harsher tug pulled him out of the daze and back to the reality of your sister—his girlfriend pulling at him.

“Right” He muttered under his breath, “What were you doing up anyway? I thought you said you were going to sleep” Jake murmurs to your sister as he stares off to the distance in hopes of catching a glimpse of the front door

His girlfriend gave another harsh pull on his arm that woke him up from his haze. In a confused face, he looked up to your sister, mouth ajar at the glaring gaze examining him, “She always acts out like that if that’s what you’re wondering”

“Our parents told her to stop messing around and just focus on her studies but she just doesn’t listen” Your sister sneered at the reminder of your reckless actions, “I’ve even had to receive an earful for not keeping a closer eye on her when they first caught her sneaking out”

“There’s been more than one instance?” Jake flinches when your sister laughs out loud, he remains silent since he didn’t even have to say anything, your sister just rambled out everything he wanted to know

“Oh there’s been so many times that I can’t even keep track anymore”

“I’ve told her so many times to be better in sneaking out because I won’t cover for her” You sister dragged him back to the room and threw herself onto the bed in a loud huff, “Plus her and her little fuck buddy that she calls a friend isn’t going anywhere, so I don’t get the point of risking our parent’s trust for it”

She roughly pushed herself up to look at him with a scowl at Jake’s lack of agreement to her statement, “Am I right?”

“How long have they been seeing each other?” Jake glossed over it with a voice scratchier and more pronounced than usual as he rested up against the closed door

Your sister perked at the question and raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know, a few months maybe? I don’t keep tabs on her life”

“So there’s no attachment between them? Just two people messing around?” Jake awkwardly clears his throat and rubs the back of his nape with his freehand

“She swears that they're just friends but I call bullshit on that” Your sister rolls her eyes at the instance that whatever it may be is anything but innocent, “Otherwise she wouldn’t be pulling this type of shit for the sake of friendship”

Her ramble stops abruptly as she stares at Jake with raised eyebrows for his sudden curiosity about you. It was interesting when Jake had shown no interest in you when she first mentioned you to him.

Leaning forward, her elbows perched on her knee as she zeroed in on Jake with a tugging smirk, “Why so curious?”

He harshly gulped, both hands pressed the bowl into the middle of his chest as his mind racked for anything and every thought imaginable to save himself, “Just want to look out for her. Make sure she doesn’t get heartbroken from messing with the wrong guy”

“Aww look at you worrying over my sister, aren’t you just such a caring boyfriend”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

Laying on your back, you kept shifting your body weight to get comfortable to sleep but you couldn’t seem to get any shut eye when you kept hearing your sister’s giggle down the hallway followed by Jake’s deeper chuckle.

You plopped yourself on your side harshly with a recoil and sighed heavily. Meeting Jake the first time was a revolutionary moment, you’re still just unsure if it was for the worst or the best.

"Uh... What happened to Heeseung?" The question imposed innocence and probably should have been asked during a time when it was just you and your sister and not be the first thing you asked when you opened the door for her after not seeing her for months

But it just slipped out before you could stop it.

It was just that seeing an unfamiliar face next to your sister, a sweet smile stretched on his face with loosely baggy clothes fitting him perfectly was odd when her and Heeseung had just celebrated their one year.

You hissed when a hand flew your way and smacked your arm. Immediately jerking yourself away from it and looking at your mom's warning gaze. "I am so sorry for that! She doesn't know when to be quiet" She loudly chuckled to fill the awkward silence

Your sister's hand gripped around the male's bicep tighter before straining out a smile, "This is my boyfriend, Jake"

Looking over to the male next to her, you took in his appearance. He was nowhere near her usual type and you knew your sister was very adamant on who she spent her time with.

Yet, noticing the fluff of his hair, his soft and warm eyes, high cheekbones for the sheepish smile he had as he talked to your parents, his giggle that was light but strong—He was the perfect fit of your ideal type.

“Congratulate your sister” Your mom whispered into your ear with a grip of your arm before letting go to show a wide smile with opened arms to the new addiction of the family

Jake gave your dad a firm handshake until it got to your turn. His eyes landed on you, looking up and down—taking in your appearance with a slight nod that you would’ve missed if you weren’t paying close attention.

He leaned in, his arms opening and engulfing you into a hug before you could even retaliate. You suddenly become rigid in the embrace, his hands sprawled across your lower and mid back to flush your bodies together before he lets go with a smile lingering on his face. “Nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you”

Sneaking a glance to your sister with furrowed eyebrows before giving a kind smile, “Nice to meet you too” You quietly greeted which prompted his smile to grow in size

It would be a long break with your parents, your sister and her new boyfriend

⊹ ࣪ ˖

When your parents suggested the pool to cool off during the heat. Jake didn’t imagine you’d invite whoever it was rubbing sunblock all over your back.

Sunglasses perched on his high nose bridge did nothing to hide his burning gaze at the fit of giggles you let out.

Forced to watch the guy spreading the moisture onto his hands before splattering it onto your back making you squeal from how cold it was. Jake sees the wide smile the guy had hearing you giggle and he dug his nails deep into the flesh of his palm.

What you didn’t notice but Jake did was the way the guy looked at you while you weren’t paying attention. How the wide smile softened and became warm.

It was like a bubble that surrounded you both—away from everyone. Away from him. It settled something weird in him, an ache in his chest that bubbled something nasty.

“Jake, can you put sunblock on my back?” He snapped away from your direction at the sound of his girlfriend right in front of him, holding the bottle that was just at your side a moment ago

He pursed his lips out before grabbing the bottle from your sister and lathering it over his hands before motioning for her to sit down. His hands threaded to her skin though his mind was in a different place.

Trying to focus on the flesh of skin under his hands but his eyes wondered where you were sitting but he stopped his hands when there was no sight of you. The sudden sound of splashing water followed by your loud laughter slipped past his ringing ears.

He whipped his head towards the source to see you already in the pool, swimming closer to the guy who dipped his feet in as he fondly smiled at you.

“Hey why’d you stop?” Your sister snapped her head to Jake

However, instead of sticking by her side like she said to, he suddenly took of his shirt and his legs picked him up and threw himself into the pool before he could second guess himself

You turned away to stop the water from getting into your face at the sudden cannonball in the pool. Turning around when the coast was clear but to your shock, Jake was already swimming towards you.

You straightened your posture as he grew closer, he slicked back his wet hair, the water droplets falling onto his forehead before skidding down the side of his face.

He gave the signature shy smile he gave when you first met and extended his hand out, not to you but to who was in front of you, “Nice to meet you, name’s Jake”

Sneaking a glance towards you before pulling his arm from behind and gripping Jake’s into a firm shake, “Nice to meet you, I’m Jay”

“So how long have you two been dating?” Jake fiddled a finger between you two, a fake smile bright on his face

The sudden question made your eyes nearly pop out while Jay coughed and retreated his hand back to his side with an awkward laugh.

“I thought I told you babe, they aren’t dating” Your sister’s voice chimes as she carefully dipped her legs into the pool and extended her arms out, waiting for him to come to her

Jake sneaks a glance to your unreadable gaze and lets out a sigh under his breath before moving towards where your sister waited. “They’re just merely screwing around, isn’t that right sis?” Your sister shot you a look you knew far too well

You grimace at how she grabbed onto Jake’s offered hands and dipped into the pool with a slight shiver by the contrast of temperature. Not choosing to respond, you gravitate towards Jay who only gave you a strained smile before entering the pool himself.

Jake watched how you and Jay were nearing closer together and felt his chest cave in itself, without thinking his mouth moved before he could stop himself, “Why don’t we play marco polo?”

Everyone looked at him with weird expressions and he awkwardly smiled, nervously swishing the water away around him. “I mean why not right? Gives us time to spend together”

Whilst, no one was fond of his decision—he could tell that much, they all still reluctantly agreed, having nothing better to do than just swimming and chilling in the pool.

Instead of following traditional rules, the game was twisted in their own ways. Instead of having only one person close their eyes, everyone does and you can open them once you find someone.

Now closed eyes, arms stretched out that he was sure he looked silly.

“Marco!” He was the first to yell out, heart thumping in his chest as he realized how he didn’t have much sense around him besides touch and sound

Hearing how the swashing over water overruled any other sound until he heard the sweetness of your voice calling out, “Polo!” There was a twinge of excitement in your voice

Before he could open his mouth to respond back, the only other husky deep voiced chipped in as the sound of the rustling in water grew closer, “Marco”

Something switched in Jake as his feet moved on their own. Pulling him in the direction his gut screamed at him to go in. “Polo!” He responded, his hands moving around to get a touch of warmth

“Marco” He heard the in the faint distance of your sister responding but choosing to ignore it and move farther from it, he trusted his gut feeling more than he should have

“Polo” Jay responded back once noticing your sister was getting no response from anyone

“Marco” You decided to chirp in and Jake could feel his heart pounding out of his chest when it sounded like it came from right of him

His hands naturally gravitated towards the noise as he threaded as quickly as possible to be unnoticed if it were actually you—which he is almost positive it is.

The plush warmth of skin was jaw dropping, it was much softer than your sister’s skin that he couldn’t help but dig his nails in. You slightly hissed and he bit down on his bottom lip to conceal the smile that would go unnoticed by anyone already. “Polo” He huskily whispered and he could feel the small bumps forming under his fingertips, “Got you”

You tried to wither out of his touch realizing the accented voice wasn’t the one you were with just a few moments ago but Jake kept you planted where he found you. “Ok-” A hand slapped or tried to cover your mouth that made you squeal

“Don’t want to ruin the fun now do we? We only just started playing” His reasoning that didn’t make sense, you always could just do another round at least that what you would hope for

However, you remained silent and tapped his forearm to release you but your hand rested there for a second longer than you anticipated.

The popping veins on his skin, tracing all over made you shudder under your breath as you were pushed up the pool wall followed by a heavy presence over you.

“Jake” You shakily called his name and he felt something twitch unsure if it was internal or external, all he cared about was that the way you said his name so breathlessly and worry

He doesn’t trust himself to say anything but just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. He hears the way the breath got sucked right back into your throat and feels the way your heart pounds out of your chest.

Your skin burned under his lingering touches, how he manages to make you feel like you were stripped bare was concerning when you still had the garments covering your body at least to make sure nothing was seen.

You tried to push his shoulder but freeze at how wide—much broader than anything they feel under your hands. Seeing them and feeling them under your hand were two completely different things.

The push of his leg in between your thighs as if to support your body up had you sitting on top of his knee and you resume your attempt to push away your sister’s boyfriend.

“It’ll be tiring if you keep standing. I got you” The words brushed into your ear and a shiver ran down your spine

“I don’t need your help” You murmured but when his body flushed to you in excuse of not wanting to get caught because by his logic with your bodies squished together, you both will be counted as one, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure we stay in the game” He responds far too quickly like he’s rehearsed it numerous times, “We don’t want to get caught do we?”

Jake can’t bring himself to let go of you, you fit perfectly in his hold especially knowing if Jay and his girlfriend just opened their eyes you’d be caught.

Instead of feeling dread and fear like how you are currently feeling, he realizes it’s bad that he doesn’t care if they saw you two. There are no eyes on them besides the four of them—so who cares?

Well you did. Especially you.

When Jake hears swishing of water, his heartbeat picks up and he could feel you pushing at his chest but he doesn’t budge. Instead he grips onto the ledge for even more ground to keep him close to you.

“What the fuck?” Your sister shrieked causing you and Jake’s eyes open to each other's face so close to one another

Your breaths fanned over while he looked at you with a repressed gleam and a shake under his breath when he saw you trapped in his arms and sitting on his knee.

You looked away to see your sister frowning with crossed arms over her chest and Jay facing the opposite side of the pool awkwardly squatting and arms out to catch anyone.

You instantly push yourself out of the pool, leaving Jake in the same position he trapped you in. Trying to hide the burning under your cheeks to quickly walk back into the house.

Jay yelled your name when he noticed you leaving and chased after you the moment he pulled himself out of the pool. Jake cringed at the sight but sucked in a breath when your sister laughed behind him.

“What was that about?” Your sister came up behind Jake and smacked his burnt back making him hiss at the reddening mark splayed on there

However, Jake never looked back to his girlfriend once, instead he kept himself focused on where you once were and where you disappeared off to in the house with Jay trailing after like a lost puppy.

“Just trying to not get caught”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

Jake is trying to focus on the warm home cooked meal, he just can’t seem to get his eyes off the way Jay wrapped his arm at the back of your chair.

Which just so happened to be in front of him as you laughed into his personal space as he spoke to your parents like a talk show host.

A natural charm that wooed them for who knows how long. He found it amusing how he was the boyfriend and wasn’t getting the slightest bit of attention because Jay had it all.

It was more ironic seeing how you and Jay were the only ones on the other side of the dining table and the rest of them were squeezed into one row.

Having to watch Jay whisper something in your ear before pulling back to admire your giggles was annoying enough.

But immediately you stopped when remembering you’re at a dinner with your family including your sister’s boyfriend was better than any comedy show he’s ever watched.

You clear your throat and straighten up your posture and Jake sees the way Jay smugly leans back in his chair and lifts a leg over his knee with a sweetening smile towards your parents.

“So what are you two?”

You shy away from the question asked by your parents but Jake being too curious for his own good, a habit he needs to desperately fix.

He jumps in to be a good look out on the boys you’re fooling around with.

“Yeah? Want to make sure she isn’t messing with the wrong crowd do we?” Every eyes were on him before being focusing on Jay who coughed into his fist with a quick smile

“Oh we are just friends” Jay wraps an arm around and brings your closer to his side

Jake, who couldn’t watch what was in front of him anymore, gripped the utensil and stabbed his food with so much force that it clanked against the plate in a loud manner.

Everyone’s attention shifted to him again made him feel like a dog who just got in trouble with the way he cowered into himself with a soft apology leaving his mouth.

Your mom clears her throat and leans over and smiles warmly at Jake who returns the gesture, “Say Jake, how did you and my daughter meet mhm? I bet it’s a cute love story”

“Mom” Your sister whines and your mother jumps in a laugh at the normal remark, while Jay joined in laughing.

Jake looked over to you as you stayed silent and only looked at your plate. Too engrossed with fiddling with the food when you were kicked directly in the shin.

Silently groaning and lifting your head up with a scowl thinking it was your sister but instead see Jake mouthing an apology.

Your words die on your tongue and slowly nod your head in acceptance of the apology and try to rejoin your attention on your mom and sister bickering while Jay talked with your dad.

When you reached over to get Jay’s attention you got kicked again straight to your shin. You snapped your head towards Jake who silently apologized again.

Yet, there was no sign of actual remorse behind that toothy grin and blown out eyes. You shifted in your seat to see if that could stop the hits to your leg but when you got struck again you nearly launched yourself up from your chair to yell at Jake to leave you alone.

The first few times you looked past it, accepted it to be a mistake but after what felt like the millionth time you were growing tired of it.

Instead of doing something to get him to stop, you stayed rooted in your chair and kicked back with less force in his direction.

Jake holds back his grin as he pushes at your ankle noticing your annoyance towards him. Yet, when you push him back, he feels ecstatic.

Your hands gripped the ends of the chair to focus on bringing the equal or if not more force in your kicks the same way Jake was kicking you.

When he finally came to a stop, you thought it was over with a sigh of relief.

Until you felt a graze at the bone of your ankle. You send a hard glare his way and he only perches his elbow on the table and covers his mouth with his hands as he stares directly back at you.

He allows his foot to trail up the bare of your leg, the way it glided against your skin that he thanks the lotion you put on after the much needed shower from the eventful day in the pool.

You squirm in your seat and you try to pull your leg away but when he hooks the front of his foot to the back of your calf, you don't attempt to pull away anymore.

Jake covered his smile under his hand but he swore it could be felt by a mile away.

He sees how your head hangs low, visibly shaking under his foot trailing higher up your leg. When he passed your knee he decided to trace the ball with the tip of his foot to feel the light shiver it caused you.

Harshly pulling on his bottom lip to conceal the giggle daring to escape he raises his foot past onto your thigh. You squished your thighs together and Jake’s smile turned into a frown instantly.

He tapped at the plush in a silent plea but when you refused, the tips of mouths grew lower when you were pulling away.

Jake grabbed the back of your knee and kept you in place before perking up when your mother focused on him again after having all of her attention on Jay practically the entire dinner, “Say Jake, what are you studying?”

“Engineering” He answers with a kind smile making you cough to clear your throat at his reply

Jake sends one last soft kick at the side of your thigh making you jump and bang your knee onto the table.

“Woah you okay?” Jay worriedly asked and leaned in to you to see what happened but you flushed your body over the table to make sure he couldn’t see Jake’s retracting foot from your side of the table back to his own

“Wait, aren't you failing some engineering course?” Your sister mumbles under her breath to take a jab at you but Jake picked up on it instantly

“You’re struggling with a class?” He innocently asked like a puppy that wasn't just tormenting you under the table

“I can help you out with that! Wouldn’t want you to fail a summer class right?” The smile he was giving everyone was too faxed and down right sinister but everyone believed it except you

When peeking through the corner of his eyes to you. He thumbs his lips and tilts his head while sucking in a breath and lightly shaking his head as he looks at you.

“You should be careful though” Jake licks his lips with a concerned pout

He traces his eyes over your jaw and down to your clear neck before looking back and replacing the pout with a lopsided grin that reached his eyes, “You look like you can bruise easily”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Not sleeping over Jay?” Jake’s voice broke through the hushed whispers between you and the said male when he suddenly appeared behind the front door and took it out of your grasp

You snap your head towards the make who innocently rose his hands up, “I’m just asking”

Trying your best to hold back from rolling your eyes you smile warmly at Jay who laughed awkwardly and shook his head before giving a tight lip and took a step out of the door.

“Don’t let the door hit you on your way out!” Jake cheerily chimes and slammed the door shut before the male could get any response back to him

You narrow your eyes at him and he only sheepily smiles like he knew no wrong that it ticked your nerves.

“What the fuck” Jake flinched when you sneer at him but your gaze averts when your sister snickered off from the side

“You should be lucky mom and dad didn’t question you anymore about inviting a friend over” The glare you gave her could be felt from a mile away but it didn’t phase her in the way you hoped, “This is supposed to be a family bonding summer sis”

“I’m going to wash up first” She strides over to Jake and plants a soft kiss to his cheek, your hands balled at your side when she never broke eye contact once from you

Jake remains frozen in place long after your sister walks off, leaving the two of you together. Your eyes fidget around one another but never on each other.

When you walked off, he trailed after you and you didn’t bother to shake him off. You knew it would be impossible to escape him when he’s sleeping under the same roof.

Sighing heavily and plopping yourself onto your couch and stretching your neck to the side, a loud hum ripping your throat as you tried to massage your aching muscles.

It would’ve stayed silent, just like how you would’ve wanted, if he wasn’t the one to break the silence with the voice that rose goosebumps at the back of your neck.

“I was serious about what I said”

“Which part?” Jake chuckles at the snarky remark and he nods his head in defeat but he sighs heavily and tilts his head to the side making the fluff of his hair to fall to the side and curtain his face perfectly for you to see him

“About helping you out with your engineering class. Not to toot my own horn but I am pretty familiar in that department” When you peek in the corner of your eye to see Jake’s grin, you instantly shake your head at the offering

You were trying everything in your power to stay away from Jake as much as possible but the more hours spent with him, the more that possibility diminished.

Focusing on stretching the muscles on your own, you feel the warmth hovering your skin that makes you jump in place. Peering over your shoulder, Jake is sitting closer than before with a softer closed smile.

“What are you doing?” You whisper low, afraid that if you spoke louder, it would entail something and you didn’t need that on your conscious

“I give good massages” He justifies by shaking his hands, “Ask your sister”

You shudder at the thought of your sister and you shook your head, “I rather not”

“Does that mean I can give you one?” He looked helpless, eyes riming with a gloss and a pout that jutted out his plush bottom lip, “Please”

“I would hate to see you in pain” You scoff at his remark and choosing to stick to as minimal words as possible, you adjust yourself to the edge of the couch with your back turned to Jake

“Yeah right, you were straight up kicking me like some socc-” Your voice gets caught in your throat the moment Jake’s hand lands on your shoulders and immediately squeeze them

“Relax. you’re so tensed” You sucked in a breath and bit on your lip to stop the strained noise from slipping out. He whispers in the shell of your ear that nearly made you rip away from him, “Just relax for me”

The words were slurred and felt hot against your neck. It would kill you to give him the satisfaction but you swear he can see it by the way he giggles and continues the motion on your neck.

The tips of his finger tips glide up and down your spinal cord nearly making your topple over but when the rest of his fingers dig into your shoulder blade, you yelp before a soft moan enlightens from you.

Jake didn’t pull away like you thought he would, instead he only worked in silence to feel the way you melt into his hands. His chest swells in a satisfaction he never had before.

“I want to say I’m sorry about the pool thing” You weren’t planning on saying anything for the weak apology but instead the words slipped past your mouth like it was second nature

“No it’s okay. Like you said it was to win the game” The purpose of the the game was to not get caught by anyone and yet, you and Jake failed completely but in your books, it counts as a win

His touches burned through your skin like straight fire. It was messing with your mind that you didn’t question them roaming down your back to your sides.

You only let your eyes flutter close and enjoy the feel of his calloused hands holding you. Your head lulled to the side and focused on how his hands held you—A delicate touch that excited you in every wake of his fingers gliding over your skin.

“Is that good?” He asked when your head was too hazy to answer

Not realizing the weak moan coming out instead, you realize when Jake halts his movements as he grips your shoulders and it snaps you awake from the daze.

He could feel the tension rising back into your fibers and noticing his hand flinched around your shoulder, you pulled yourself away hastily that you nearly fell off the couch.

However, reaching out to you in the process, you fell right into the arms waiting to catch you from the fall.

Instead of falling forward, you’re pulled to the side and your hands rest on his chest as he hovers over you. A knee lodge between your squished legs, his face just right above yours, and a widening silence that made your heart hammer out.

You could feel how his arms wrap tighter around from under, a drowning feeling filling to muffle the ringing in your ears. Seeing how his eyes search over your face only to land back to your eyes that didn’t deviate from his own made your knees buckle.

How thankful you were to already be lying down.

Your hands fist the material of his loose shirt and it stretches the collar but Jake didn’t seem to care when he didn't flinch in the slightest.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks but the way his eyes flicker down to your lips and almost as if he was leaning in closer made it feel like he wanted to kiss you.

Weird right?

“Jake” You softly called his name and it jerked something inside of him as his breath fanned over yours that you can smell the musked cologne he wore to cover up the underlying chlorine smell from the pool

He didn’t answer, choosing the silence to speak louder than anything he could say.

Jake didn’t pick on the faint footsteps but you did. Years of living under the same roof, you pick up on patterns and it was like instinct when you shove him off of you and he landed straight to the floor.

He yelped and sent a confused look your way but when the cheering voice of your sister came back to stop at the opening of the living room to see you and Jake still alone.

She didn’t get a chance to say anything as you quickly pushed yourself up from the couch in a haste and to your wobbly feet best ability, rushed past without a glance to the male on the floor whose gaze followed you until you were out of sight.

“What the fuck was that?” Your sister snaps Jake out of his trance and he sighs heavily and dusts the dirt off his clothes, lingering at his chest where you held before dropping his hand

“Nothing. I was just telling your sister what timing our tutoring session will be” He oddly said louder than usual while his girlfriend looks at him confused but doesn’t question it

Little did she know that you rested behind the wall you disappeared by and stared ahead with a shaky breath passing your lips because you knew there was no way of escaping him.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

You were grumbling under your breath, you don’t want to do this.

With a hand hovering the door, you gulped down the lump in your throat and softly knocked to get out of your thoughts.

Instantly, you heard shuffling and your sister screaming, “Hold on, give us a minute!”

Retracting your hand away at the breathless tone in her voice, you listen to the cluttering and thudding from the other side of the door.

Rapid feet scrambling with hushed voices that you couldn’t hear but the door yanked open just enough to see your sister’s disheveled state.

She was out of breath and her sweet smile fell when she saw that it was just you. A loud huff fell from her mouth as she pulled the door open enough for you to see inside and spot Jake lying on her bed panting with his body covered by the sheets.

“I thought you were mom and dad” Jake snapped his head over to see you standing like a stick at the doorway

He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself to fall face first before picking himself up to stand next to your sister. From the dreading face and ragged breaths, it was all you needed to know.

Ripping your gaze away with a frown and looked to your sister with a strained lip, “Mom is calling you for shopping”

“She’s paying?” When you nod, she squeals loudly and claps her hand, “Give me 5 minutes”

Your sister twirled on her heel, leaving you and Jake alone. Too often being left alone with him was worrying.

Keeping your line of sight trained on the floor while he stared at you through his lashes. It was particularly hard to keep himself from saying something that could ruin the moment but it was even harder to not do it.

“So-” He starts but your sister comes back beside him with a frown at you still being there

“Are you going with us?” You instantly shake your head and a bright smile returns to her face, “Perfect, it’ll just be me, Jakey, and mom”

“Actually” Jake steps in the moment he was mentioned, “Me and your sister have our first tutoring session so I won’t be able to make it. I’m sorry” The apology felt half assed but the look of annoyance on her face was everything you needed to let out a small smile

She sent Jake a glare before walking back into her room without another word. He sighs heavily in relief that he escaped her wrath but he sucks in a breath when he sees your narrowed eyes pointed at him.

“What tutoring?” It registers in your mind the moment the words fall from your mouth and you instantly shake your head with a scoff, “Absolutely not. I told you I don’t need it-”

“Jake! Are you joining me and my daughter today?” Your mom from behind to check that you actually relayed the message instead of backing out

The flattering smile on his face was replaced with a fake bright one as you quickly stopped talking to see him lightly shake his head and holds his arms behind his back. Chest pumping out of his shirt that made you turn a gaze away.

“I was just telling her that I sadly have to decline in order to help this one over here with her engineering class” Your left eye twitches when Jake pursed his lips towards you with a light laugh

“You’re such a sweetheart Jake. Thank you so much for doing this” Your mother gleefully clasped her hands together as if it were the best news to hear

“I’m sorry that you have to take matters into your own hands. We told her to not bite off more than she can chew but she never listens” Your mother laughs and pats your back repeatedly as if to comfort you

Jake’s brow querked and he held back his grin by covering it with a laugh with the perfect timing of your sister being already ready.

“Bye” She waves and doesn’t bat an eye to either of you, almost as if you didn’t exist in her world, nothing far from the obvious

“Uh honey aren’t you forgetting something?” Your sister pulls her sunglasses up in confusion at your mom’s question

Yet before she could say anything, Jake jumps in with a laugh, “My hug”

You instantly notice how your sister becomes rigid and tries to laugh it off with an awkward hug. It was barely considered one with how he wrapped one arm around her and she barely even touched him.

He didn’t tighten his hold—not like how he did it with you.

“Nonsense! I meant a kiss!” You mother giggled behind a hand that she waved, “Don’t be so shy around us”

“Mom” Your sister grits through her teeth, “Let’s just go”

However your mother only became more encouraging to see more, “Just one kiss! That’s all I ask” As your sister drags her away before she can say anything more

In the distance, you can hear the faint bickering but the slam of the front door was a great indicator that they left. You sighed heavily but jumped when you felt a breath tickle your ear.

Turning your head around to see Jake leaning in with a grin spread across his face. “Woah what’s up with the hostility? That’s no way to treat your sister’s boyfriend”

The reminder of his relation had you scrunch your face to hide away the scowl daring to show over.

It was a whiplash you weren’t prepared for, the complete difference from how he was acting with your mom.

“Let’s go?”

“What?”

“You didn’t think I was lying about the tutoring session right?” Jake laughs like it was the funniest thing he has ever heard, “Oh no I was being serious”

“I already told you that I don’t need tutoring” You snapped but see how Jake only sighs and walks into your sister's room leaving you outside

You blink but remain rooted in place until he comes back in view. He held a folded paper, fiddling it between his fingertips before smiling to himself and handing it over. You suspiciously look between him and the paper as he shakes it for you to grab.

Instead of being gentle, you yank it from him and he smiles before retracting his hand.

Upon opening the paper, you crumble it instantly and throw it against his chest with a grimace, “Is this some joke?”

He bent down and picked up the paper with a kiss of his teeth, “Don’t be wasteful. We must be grateful of our environment and recycle what we can”

“How did you get my gradebook?” You snapped when he straightened his posture and sheepishly smiled seeing how your frown only pulled further down, “Answer me Jake”

“Your mom” He said easily, as if it were only natural for him have his hands on it, “She slipped it under the door with a sticky note for me”

He waved the pink slip in between his fingers and when you tried to grab it from him, he pulled away with a smile as he turned it over and read it out loud, “As you can see her grade for the class is the worst out of everything this semester. Can you please help her out” He empathized the please from the written note by your mom and it made your angry

“Unbelievable. I told her that- How did she even get access to my account?” Jake watched your distress and the dirty look you gave him when you see the sparkle in his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that”

“That’s no way to treat your tutor is it? C’mon. Just let me help you out. I’m pretty confident I know what I’m doing” The pride omitted from him wasn’t comforting in the slightest

You nibble away at your lip making it grow raw. You know the failing grade would knock your GPA down if you don’t manage to get it up before the course ends.

You were a scholar—you took pride in that, your parents were aware, Jay knew, your sister even knew it, and now Jake knows that.

As now there was a gnawing in your stomach that yelled at you to focus on the paper on your sister’s desk. There was no way to get rid of the visual haunting your thoughts instead of the physics question in front of you.

While Jake was sitting in your tutoring session with physics engineering questions already printed out, you caught sight of his lockscreen the moment he put down his phone right next to you on the table.

It showed a picture of him and your sister, hands softly intertwined as he hovers his head closer to her face with a soft stretched smile.

Stop thinking about it. Stop it. Why does he look so good? And why is it with your sister? You tried to shake these thoughts from you to force your attention on the paper

However, you couldn’t focus on the printed sheet or the dusted textbook beside you or even the pen that wasn’t yours clenched in your hand.

Every crossing thought was just about that picture and Jake who sat behind you with his arm cradling the back of your chair.

You hadn’t dared to look behind you, it felt impossible to breathe when you were too focused on the heavy breathing against your back.

“That’s the wrong answer” Jake whispered softly into your skin when he noticed the empty piece of paper

“I didn’t even start the problem” You replied and he snickers at the weak excuse

“That’s the issue. You can’t not rush engineering” He sighs and you peek over your shoulder to see him so close to you, you hold your breath and he tilts his head to the side

“We must be precise but fast. No room for mistake but enough to be efficient”

“Think you can handle that?” The corner of his mouth lifted to the side, “I mean it seems like you always seem to bite off more than you can handle”

You were looking at him with an unreadable expression but the excitement was felt in his bones. He shifts himself behind you, arms wrapping around almost as if to cage you, “You start the question like this”

The more he leaned in closer, the more the familiar cologne filled your nose and made your head woozy. His calloused hands engulf yours to guide over the paper.

Never once did he look away from your shivering eyes. He pursed his lips towards the paper to direct your attention but you didn’t look away.

Your eyes jumped from in between his, a rumbling feeling in your lower abdomen when trailing to the tall nose bridge you spotted from the moment you saw him, pink plump lips that he sucks between his teeth.

“You’re not paying attention” He hums and you knew you weren’t, you were trying to snap out of it, even if you had a vendetta against your sister, it didn’t mean you would be like this

Even if she played dirty with you, it shouldn’t mean you should play dirty back right?

The sound of the front door snapped you out and you stood up in a haste, the chair screeching from underneath, pushing Jake away in the process, “Okay that’s enough for today”

Jake leaned back in the chair, his lower body pushed out and legs spread open as he watched you gathering what you can and rustling out of the room.

You didn’t even look back at him but you could still feel his gaze on you while your sister yelled for Jake to come help with the bags.

Left with the lingering thought of your words through his head. He shakes his head to himself. It’s a lie he reminds himself that neither of you could possibly believe.

It would never be enough. Not until he finally has you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

Another day, another distraction.

“I told you to stop flipping” You squealed as Jay flipped into the pool making the water get all over you

Jay emerges from underwater, swimming to the ledge where you sat on with your legs dipped in. He cheekily smiles and shakes his wet hair in close proximity as you try to kick him away but he grabs your ankles before you could succeed.

He holds your ankles as he adjusts himself right in between your legs and wraps them around his back.

When you see his side smile, you can’t hold back your own as you push back his dripping hair back into a slick back, “You know I always love seeing your hair pushed back”

“You do? Last time I did it, I thought you hated it” You laugh and shake your head as you rake your fingers through his hair

Your light tugs let dark hums to erupt from his throat while his eyes fluttered closed making you admire him.

“You’re getting badly pruned” You point out when his hands come up and grab on your thighs, the bumps on his skin were soft—Jay’s hands were always soft, never a callous in sight despite working out often

“I could stay in this moment” He ignores your words as he lays his head on your lap, you squeeze your thighs together—keeping him close to you and continue to brush his hair, “You’re so warm”

You don’t pick up on his compliment. You peered over your shoulder to the house that you’ve constantly been checking for the past hour.

This time you catch a sway of a curtain that you instantly think must've been Jake. Shaking your head from that thought because Jake left to go shopping with your sister and mom.

It was just you and Jay—there was no way it could’ve been him.

The wet kisses that were pressed against your skin were what ripped your attention to the male who was now gleaming up at you. His eyes speaking louder than anything and it made your heart rate stay the same.

“Could get lost by you” Jay’s lustful voice made shivers run down your spine

You locked eyes with him, the weakened smile lazily spread on his face as he tilts his head just slightly to the side with a soft pout and shining eyes from the reflection of the sunlight hitting the pool.

You gulped down the lump in your throat as your hand stops brushing his hair to slowly fall onto his shoulder. “Or maybe better yet… In you”

Jake feels as proud as ever that he managed to deny yet another invitation from your sister and mom with the excuse that he was feeling a bit under the weather.

He was pleased that they bought it or more so your mom did while his girlfriend only glared at him but still didn’t say anything to him about it.

Truthfully all he wanted to do was stay home to relax and if that just also happens to mean keeping an eye on you and Jay. Then, he doesn’t mind his to-do list for today.

The two of you were supposed to stay in the pool, just like how you promised your dad before he left for work and your mom before she left with your sister for shopping.

It was an empty promise clearly—just to show some warning that there is some type of stability in this home. Jake always hates to be the bearer of bad news but he's going to have to relay the message that their house is built on broken grounds.

What a shame.

He walked away just for a second to change into his swimming trunks—tired of seeing you and Jay so lonely in the pool. The two of you disappeared with no trace of where you went.

Hastily he throws on the closest baggy shirt he can find and rushes out his girlfriend’s room. He tries to shake the thoughts from his mind but it does not do justice when all he can think about is how he's doing this to look out for you.

Jay is up to no good-he can see it. That settled an unconscious fear that he couldn't explain when he thought about the two of you alone.

Right when he was about to yell out your name, he passed by your slighted jarred door and sighs in relief. A bright smile comes back to his face and redirects his pattering feet over to your room.

There were many things that managed to make Jake feel sick to his stomach like realizing he missed an entire paper or seeing how his grade dropped by 10 points because of a false 0 on his 100 percent project. Or even worse when news spread that Heeseung and his darling girlfriend broke up.

But none of those top his list now and never will again.

Jay sits at the edge of your bed, head knocked back as low groans leave his mouth. You on your knees, nestled right in between his opened legs—his cock lodged down your throat as you cupped whatever couldn’t fit.

The sound of the creaking door snapped you and Jay’s attention over to Jake covering his eyes and slamming the door shut with a weak apology “Woah sorry” following.

Those simple two words drenched you in fear like a bucket of cold water. Jay cursed under his breath and hastily shoved himself back into his pants, slightly hissing at the restraint for his hard-on but picked up on your horrified expression more.

He grabs under your arms to help you up, “Do you think he’s going to say something?”

You stand on wobbly legs that if it weren’t for Jay holding you up, you would’ve crumbled to the ground. You gulped down, the aftertaste of a salty mixture made you cringe when a fear fills you.

“I really hope not”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

Ever since Jake walked in on you and Jay whenever you tried to talk to him to at least clear the air, he would turn the other way and act like you didn’t even exist.

Ironic on his end when he was acting like you were the center of his world.

Somehow your parents decide it was the perfect time to have a family dinner. No one was invited unless they were partners. Meaning Jake was invited and Jay was left behind.

“Fuck I have to face him alone” You grumbled under your breath as you were finishing up the final touches of your makeup before slamming down your lipgloss in annoyance

“Hey” You freeze at the sound of an accented voice that felt like you hadn’t heard in years

You turn to see Jake bringing down his hand from knocking as he pushed your door open to peek his head in before his body followed through.

“Jake?” You called out and he closes the door behind him but left it cracked open

“I just wanted to check in on you” He hums, walking over to your vanity where you are

His attention linger at the edge of your bed that was cleared of any wrinkle from anyone sitting there. The corners of lips pulled down and he lightly shook his head when he leaned against the vanity with his palm over the very gloss you just put on.

“For what?”

“Thought you might’ve gotten hurt with how you were trying to suck Jay off”

Your face drops in mortification when the words leave his mouth. You looked up at him through the mirror and saw the toothy grin.

“Jay said I was doing good” Unsure of why that was your first instinct to say but it was too late before you could catch yourself

Jake laughs, a hard one that erupts from the pits of his stomach that left him clutching his abdomen, “Oh sweetheart he was lying to you. That shit looked like it hurt”

The corners of your lips tugged down trying to hide the burn of your cheeks and Jake felt his heart explode in his chest, “Aww don’t pou-“

“For whatever reason it concerns you, I’ve never done it before so I wouldn’t know”

There was a silence that made your gaze turn away from the male beside you and down to the clutter on the vanity. The way you casually start to nitpick stuff back into their respective spot, Jake tries to hang on the little dignity and sanity he has left so he doesn’t say anything.

However, his mouth has a mind of its own. He tilts his head and bends his knees down to level with your head when he brushes against the shell of your ear.

The sudden warmth made goosebumps gaze at your skin as he saw the small bumps littering your skin making him lightly chuckle that had your stomach flipping.

“I guess this is just another thing I have to teach you” A sultry in his tone that matched him, “But don’t worry I’m pretty good at teaching this too”

“What? No! We can’t do this and you know that”

“Are you telling me that or yourself?”

When the looming presence disappeared, you became hyper-aware of the ruffling sounds of sheets behind and a belt unbuckling rippling around your silent room.

Slowly peering over your shoulder, Jake sits at the edge of your bed, legs spread open, his black slack unbutton and buckle of his belt undone as he leans back on his arms.

“C’mon it’s nothing bad. We aren’t doing anything that’s wrong” He peers his head to the side with a jut of his bottom plush lip, “I just want to help you”

“Plus don’t you want to please your little boyfriend properly?”

“He’s not my boyfriend and you know his name” Jake hangs his head in a sigh before shifting his position and you can see him aiming back for his belt as he buckles it back on again

“Yeah yeah Jay and whatnot” The rolls of his eyes made your stomach twist in unease

Watching him fix his clothes, the black slack pants and black button up opened just enough to see the silver chain against his chest.

He adjusts his sleeves up to his forearm after dropping to low, multiple distinct veins popped from under his skin and sleek slender fingers that had prominent veins of their own.

Sighing heavily and brings himself to properly sit up, pushing himself just an inch before you’re hastily standing up and walking over to him.

He instantly plops himself back down when you’re standing right in front of him. Such unwavering eyes and confidence that was crumbling right before him.

“Yes?”

His tone was obviously teasing, he fluttered his eyelashes against his cheeks that made an instant panic rise in you. Your lips pull downwards but licking away at your sticky lips when you catch sight of the dent in Jake’s pants.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak nonsensical words so instead you sink down to your shins and Jake smirks wildly at the sight of you on your knees for him.

“You got a bit of droll there baby” He cups your jaw and wipes the corners of your lips

“Don’t call me baby” Jake coos at the sternness in your voice, “This is just like how you said. This isn’t bad”

“We are just trying to help me out for the future”

“Keep telling yourself that babe” He laughs when he leans forward and tilts your chin up

A craze glare shimmered in his eyes that lit up like he held the stars in them. Jake doesn’t give you a chance to respond when his thumb slipped past your lips and straight down your throat.

Gagging instantly when he pressed down on your tongue and opened the warm canal, he squinted his eyes and moved your head around to examine the inside of the pink gummy muscle.

Your throat tries to push the foreign flesh out, not used to being exposed like this.

While for Jake, the contraction around his thumb wasn’t enough, “You have a really good gag reflex” He clicks in his tongue and you could feel his annoyance

He pulls back his thumb with a connected strip of saliva from your esophagus to the shiny thumb. He looks in amusement at it before shaking his hand.

You pant heavily and swallow down the wetness in your mouth that seems to keep coming back. You look up to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I-Is that not good?” Your hands balled on top of your lap in worry

“It’s fucking terrible” He tsked and it made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, it must’ve been noticeable on your face because Jake creases your head softly, “It’s okay though, this is an easy fix”

“H-how?” A helpless plea that made Jake lightheaded

He taps your lips with his index finger to open, you follow through, not like how others would have. He doesn’t even give you a chance to fully open your mouth before he is shoving two fingers to the back of your throat.

The sounds of your gags fill his ears and it was the most beautiful melody he’s ever heard, “Sorry what was that? I couldn’t hear you”

Your throat shrinks when he twiddles around your mouth in exploration, seeing where really had you gagging more than others.

The slides of his fingers made you screw your eyes shut tight while your hand weakly wrapped around his wrist to try and push him away.

“Don’t fucking pull away from me” Jake grits and rogughly places his palm on the back of your head and flushes you to his knuckles making you wail louder than intended

“You’re going to have to be quiet unless you want someone to hear what we’re doing. Then you’ll be screwed trying to explain yourself”

You clawed at his wrist making him suck in a breath and hiss as your nails drag down to the back of his hand leaving a redding line in its wake matching the natural blush on his knuckles.

He pried your mouth open when he scissors the motion for more space. Seeps of drool spill from the corners down his hand when your mouth opens and closes around his digits, you were rapidly patting his forehead to gain his attention but he only kept you in place.

“This is lesson 1, don’t want to fail right?” He chuckles when you stop fighting and hold onto his forearm instead for support, “Good girl”

Jake sees the shimmer on his hand and he wasn’t sure if it was from the gloss you applied or the saliva spilling and yet, his chest swells as he lingered his gaze all over your face.

Screwing your eyes shut, mascara smudging in the corner with specks of wetness seeping down your cheek.

Your hand grip him like a life support with the sounds of your gags and loud slurps louder as he rests the two fingers to the back of your throat.

It tries to restrict him from moving further but a stronger will drives him to pull your head back as he sits further on the edge of your bed. At the new angle, he adds a third finger into the mix.

“Ah-Ah, now we don’t want to go doing that now” Your mouth closed around his fingers to speak and Jake giggled at the failed attempt, “An important key point that you should definitely know by now is to never talk with your mouth full”

“Guess you forget your manners in moments of pleasure” A sinister smile formed on his face that made your think, what the fuck is he smiling about

However the thought is wiped away when he tickles the flesh inside of your throat making your head jerk and he shakes his head displeased at the reflex you had, “Oh baby. You were doing so good for me”

Such a soothing tone left your thighs squishing together, shifting in place to soothe the ache that rushed under your skin down to your throbbing self.

He smirks at the sight of your eyes blinking uncoordinately, the streaks of tears fell back thanks to him and how your body uncomfortably switches.

But it’s the view of your legs squishing tighter that jumps his heart into his throat.

He yanks his hand out without a word and drops your head. Without the support, it hangs between your shoulders as ragged breaths wheezed from your mouth.

You’re coughing and rubbing the skin over your throat, swallowing down every second to soothe the soreness.

“What was the third one for?” Your voice hoarse that you almost didn’t recognize yourself

“Preparing you for your exam” Jake laughs leaving you more confused, “Of course we need to see if you actually learned anything or if you were just fucking around”

“What exam? What are you-” Your words die on your tongue when Jake rises from your bed to loom over your sitting position, eyes dimming but his smile dark

The reopened buckle hangs in front of your face and as you wait, Jake shakes his head, “You’re on your own for this this”

“I won’t help you unless you beg for it” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand to grimace at the ruined lip combo spread across your hand, “Don’t fail me on this one, I have some hope for you”

You look up through eyelashes to see Jake eyeing the smudge lipgloss on the back of your hand. He smirks before sitting back down on the edge of your bed, arms extended behind, “Timer starts now”

Cheeks burned in embarrassment that this was what everything had succumbed to. Having to graze against his slacks, the smooth material under your hand clearly shows a poor decision, therefore, you should stop here and kick him out of your room.

Instead, you fiddle more with Jake’s belt. Fingers tracing over the popping boner. Jake groans when you faintly touch him and he senses your hesitation when your hands retract to your chest in worry.

“Keep going” His reassurance fills your heart but doesn’t stop it from his unrhythmic pace

Reaching up his fly that feels heavier than anything you have ever held before you shakily stabilize one hand on his thigh while the other pulls down on it.

“Don’t worry you’re not going to hurt me” He encourages you but when he lifts his head and rests it on his shoulder, his cheek getting squished in the process dazingly a smile, “Can’t say the same for you though”

At the end of his zipper, the slacks opening fall even further apart to catch the common white Calvin Klein boxers—a color that contrasts his all black attire.

“What do you mean?” You fall back on your calves and Jake takes the time to appreciate the innocence in your eyes, how you look like you despised him but also ogle at like a forbidden fruit

He presses a finger to his lips to quiet you down and while you hated his efforts, you focused back on the bulge popping through the opening of his pants.

“Jake I asked you something” The sudden confidence in your tone made him snap his attention back to you that made you squirm under his glare

“And what did I tell you? I’ll only help you if you beg for it”

“So if I were you, start picking up the pace or start rubbing your hands together and spewing whatever helpless plea from that pretty mouth of yours”

“You think I’m pretty?” You flutter your lashes trying to cover your shyness with pride but Jake saw right through the facade

He reaches a hand out and strokes your head while the other free hand pushes off the bed and rubs your arm.

It felt loving, the warmth tracked through your entire body the moment his calloused hands touched you.

“I think you’re the prettiest girl ever” Jake grips your nape and dragged your head closer to his clothed crotch in a split second making you yelp, “But you’ll be the most beautiful person ever with your mouth full”

Your mouth falls open but closes and he cackles when nothing comes out of it.

“You think I’m pretty” Your question now a statement as you look up at him to catch him already looking at you, he let out a chuckle of amusement before shaking his head

“Oh foolish you are” There felt to be more to his words than what he let on, “Careful there, you’re drooling again sweetheart”

“Let me get it for you” Jake trails up your arms leaving goosebumps in its wake and circles your jaw before wiping away at the corner of your mouth

Yet, you gargle a sound when his finger starts pushing back into its old spot in the warm wet embrace of your mouth.

No restraint anymore as you accept it without much thought.

“Here’s a hint for you, no teeth whatsoever” He lifts your head up just enough where you level with his abdomen, your eye looked up at him with a silent plea

“I would never” Your speech slurred thanks to his thumb and he shakes his head with a disapproval sigh

“Already one point deducted. You know not to talk during an exam” He dragged your jaw further down and replacing the two slender flesh was much thicker and saltier

You flicker your gaze down to the veiny shaft being pushed into your mouth without fail.

Jake is breathing heavily as he pushes inch by inch, the warm confinement welcomes him that a pride fills his chest..

Pressing down on his thighs to stop his hips from bucking the entire length for you to scarf down, you pull your head back from what was in your mouth in a loud gasp.

You were in a trance when you saw what was just shoved into your mouth. Jake could tell by the way your eyes clouded and your mouth twitched.

“What’s wrong?” He faked care that didn’t last long when you continued to stare at his cock

“You’re big”

The comment fueled his ego, you didn’t mean to say it, it just came out.

“Thanks” He chuckles softly, “And I hate to break it to you but time is ticking”

The ball was in your court. You have the chance to kick him out of your room and try to act like nothing happened again.

But when you pause for a second before scooping him up in your hands, the corner of his mouth pulls up to the side.

You loll out your tongue and drag it down from the base up to the tip, Jake lets out a satisfied groan and lets his hands fall back on your bed.

You pull down further on his articles of clothing as you try to suck the side of his cock but Jake jerks at the feel of his skin being nicked.

“Teeth” He grits and you murmur a quick ‘sorry’ as if it makes up for it

So to properly make up for it, you run a tongue over where you bit down, the low hum he released made your heart gleeful as you drag the flat of your tongue over the veins that popped more than the ones on his hands.

You wondered if he was this veiny anywhere else and now you got your answer that yes he is and in the best spot too.

Circling your tongue around his slit, your hand grasped the wet cock and pumped it once before sucking the leaking tip into your mouth.

Jake’s breath went ragged when he felt the run of your tongue over him. You pull back with a plop and place soft kisses around the head while you pump what you couldn’t take in your mouth.

Jake weakly thrusts up to meet your jerk and you tightened your grasp around him to have an inconsistent pace that is clearly amateur.

“A-Ah that’s good” Jake’s voice whines as you incorporate the rapid licks over his tip with then up and down motion, “That’s good baby”

Pushing your head down slowly after one last lick, you were careful not to take in more than you can handle.

You’re trying to fix that habit before it comes back and bites you in the ass.

Using your hand to continue stroking the inches that weren’t in your mouth, you breathe through your nose like how Jay thought of you as you try to keep your teeth out of the process like how Jake told you.

You hollow your cheeks when you slowly bobbing your head up and down, twisting your hands around Jake’s cock as you tried to stop yourself from gagging so much.

It was pointless when even the smallest swallow would cause him to slip further down your throat.

Your hand pressed on his thigh to push yourself up from him but you squelched when he pressed his hand at the back of your head and further down his shaft.

You tapped on his thighs rapidly as inch by inch your mouth became more filled with Jake.

“It’s okay baby. You passed, it’s time for lesson 2” Jake groans loudly when he hilts into your throat, your nose buried to the base of his crotch, “Taking a cock like a fucking pro”

“But it seems you already have this one down” He pulls his hips back leaving your panting around his tip with heavy breaths, “Who would’ve known you would be so good at that”

“Jake” You mewl and it was sounds wetter, more pleading and far more desperate than anything he’s ever heard you, “It’s too much I-I can’t”

“But you already did. You took me so well that I can properly reward you now” You flutter your damp eyes through the hue of lighting and blurry vision and see Jake’s toothy grin

Sweat trickling down his neck and exposed forehead to his button up. He was stroking your head and you fluttered your eyes close and gulped down whatever was in your mouth to cringe slightly at the bitter taste.

Yet unable to dwell on it when you were pushed back down to his crotch.

“Just let me have this” He grunts when he pushes past your welcoming lips mouth and jerks his hips up to meet your mouth

“That’s it- An absolute sweetheart for letting me use your mouth like this”

The back of your throat constricts around the length lodged deep inside, you choke around it, spit accumulating in the corner of your lip as he thrusts into your mouth at a speeding pace

“It sucks that Jay experienced this before me” He points out through spewed whines of his, “Even worse that he was in this same spot”

“But it makes me disgusted that he couldn’t even teach you properly”

Jake’s groans grew into small whimpers the more your throat tightens around his moving shaft. Each push has your face contorting with tear drops spilling from the corners of your eyes.

His balls slapping against your chin each time his base met your nose which was every single time.

“An absolute loss on his side” Jake pushed your head down to chase after his hips until it completely stopped and your head was the only thing moving up and down his stilled hips

His tip bruised the back of your throat with no remorse. “So tight and perfect shit” The pitch of his voice jumped higher into a cry as he merely uses your throat like a personalized fleshlight and you let him

Feeling how your throat clenched with each noise sent waves of pleasure straight to his head that his groans were melting away into whimpers and whines as his abs tightened.

His hand flies to grab your neck when he switches to using only one hand to hold the back of you. He tightens his fingers around your already constricted throat making your sounds strained and heaving for any air that you could get.

The pressure around your neck makes your jaw fall further down which you didn’t think possible. Each poke of his cock protruded out of your skin to hit his hand.

You moan around his cock and he smiles crazily when he hears it in the mix of everything else.

The obscene noise of his skin hitting yours, your strained noises and the held back wails from Jake made your stomach twist

“Such a nasty girl for letting me your throat like this”

“Bet you wouldn’t even mind if I cummed down your throat would you” You tried shaking your head but it only continued going up and down his length instead, “Aww look at you nodding your head yes”

You can’t even open your eyes without tears spilling out, “Such a nice fucking thorat for me- Shit. Shit. Shit” Jake strains the chants as the lower abdomen tightens

He pulls your head off his length with a push and loud pop from how your lips sucked around him and you chase him back into your mouth.

That was until he pushes you away and makes you cup his balls as he jerks down his raging length. Your hands fiddle however Jake guided you with the push of his own fingers behind your knuckles.

Anytime that you gripped tighter than intended it would ignite a louder sound from him that made you need to hear more.

There were no words spoken anymore as all he could do was let out strained noises at the pace he set himself with your hand being too fast than you could consciously move.

Jake unrhythmically ruts his hips up to chase after your hand or morse both of your hands.

He pants heavily when he adjusts his line of shot perfectly to your fucked out face. Letting out the loudest moan rip out of you, not caring who hears him as ropes of cum shoot out as he aims it to land directly onto your face and neck.

Not stopping there, he continues your guiding hand to jerk him off past the point of regular stimulation to make sure not a single ounce was put to waste.

“Your sister is going to kill me” His breaths were uneven as he roughly shakes his head ruining the fluff of his styled hair for the dinner

He laughs when your eyes shoot open at the mention of your sister. He loudly hissed when you tightly gripped at his balls that you haven’t seemed to let go of.

You look past the extra weight on your skin and stare at Jake through making his smile grow impossibly wider as he pulls your hands off of him.

Watching how his cock springs against his stomach, white goo spilling from the tip. You lick your lips at the sight yet, he stands up without a word and pushes himself back into his slack.

Your knees aching from the position, you accept the soft stroking to your head with a gaze far too fond that makes your heart thump.

Looking up with ruined makeup and drippy eyes, Jake can’t hold back him smile, “You look so pretty”

You didn’t even get a chance to say anything when you heard the loud shout of his name from the familiar pitch of your sister.

He strains a smile and shoves his hands into his pocket before walking past you to the door.

Jake waves a hand behind his back—not even sparing a glance back at you before opening the door and stepping out and softly closing it behind him to avoid any evidence he was there.

Running a hand under your aching jaw to ease the pain, you freeze upon the contact of a thick substance.

Quickly tumbling over your numbed legs, you press yourself to the vanity to see your reflection. Once put together—ready for a family dinner now ruined.

Your makeup smudged beyond no recognition. Lip gloss smudged all over your chin and cheeks, black outlining broken with dried tear stains down your cheek all covered by white splotches.

“Are you done? We’ve been ready and we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up” Your sister walks in with a huff of annoyance but stops at the doorway when she sees you staring in the opposite direction of her

She raises an eyebrow and knocks louder against your door for some response, “Hello! Are you there?!”

“J-Just give me 5 minutes” Your voice was hoarse and tender that it hurt to even speak anything louder than a whisper

Your face shifts as you could feel her questioning gaze burning the back of your head.

Yet, the trickling feeling sliding down your cheek to hang by your chin and fall onto your lap caught your attention way more.

Slowly inching your attention to the whitening patch on your lap, you carefully put a hand over it to cover it from your sister’s sight.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Coming!” You rush to throw your journal that somehow turned into your personalized diary into the bottom drawer of your desk, throwing your pen in the cabinet to be hidden from plain sight

Your written words caught your attention before it disappeared from sight.

‘A big ego for a big dick’

You sigh when the shake of your door handle rattles even more, “How many times have I told you to stop shaking the handle like that”

Even with years down the line, your sister hasn’t changed a bit.

When you yanked the door open in annoyance, you instantly tried to close it when you see who’s behind it but a flat hand stopped you.

You stumble back at the unbalance but swiftly Jake catches your back before you could fall.

“Why did you knock like my sister?” Jake kicks the door with his foot that doesn’t fully close the door in order to ensure privacy

You push at his chest and break free out of his hold leaving him to sigh as his arms rest at his side

“It was the only way to get you to open the door”

“You and I both know you wouldn’t have opened it if you knew it was me”

You averted your gaze away but Jake hooks a finger under your chin to bring it back onto him, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” You pulled your head away and walk away as he trails after you

“Rigjr and you’re passing your engineering class” Jake plops himself face first onto your bed causing you to wistfully look around as if there was anyone else but the two of you, “Let’s both stop lying please”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Think you can fit me in that tight schedule of yours?” He adjusts himself to lay on his side, arm bending to rest his head on his palm after grabbing one of your childhood stuff animals and hugging it with a sly smile

”Shouldn’t you have plans with your girlfriend or something?” You snapped and Jake threw his head back in a laugh before resting his head back on his palm, “Why are you laughing Jake?”

“Oh my god, why are you so tense? It’s just me” Your shoulders hunch as if it only being him made it better for your consciousness, “She had some plan with your parents, don’t know what though”

“So why didn’t you go with them?”

“Because we have a tutoring session today”

“Absolutely not” You walk off to your door and crank it open to point out into the hallway with your finger, “Get out”

Jake stared at you with a certain glint that made you shift the weight on your feet and squish your thighs together.

When he shows no motive to move from the comforts of your bed, he digs into his pocket to pull out a note and pries it from the wrinkled state and you furrow your brows at the familiarity.

He clears his throat and sits up, crisscrossing his legs as he takes a peek up at you still standing by the doorway. He smiles and looks back down to the paper, “Dear diary I have a confession to make”

“My sister’s boyfriend is fucking hot”

“Geez I wonder who this can be out” All color drains from your face when those words fall from Jake’s lips

He held back a smile but it wasn’t contained when he laughed loudly as he continued to read off the paper, “He always keeps looking at me even when he’s clinging to my sister like a vice and it’s fucking aggregating”

Launching over to grab the paper from his grasp but he pouts as he reaches out for it. “Wait, I have a question! What does the last one say? You crossed it out and I’ve been trying to find out what it says”

“How did you- where the hell did you get this?!” You yelled that he got his hands on something like this

He throws his head back and rolls it around to crack his bones before looking at you. “If I tell you, will you tell me what the last one said?”

“No! Are you crazy?!” You crumble the paper in hand and Jake’s smile staggers before falling in a thin line

“You know that’s the thing about you” He grumbled making you narrow your eyes at him

“What about me Jake?”

“That you never think about anyone but yourself” You drop your arms to your side as you stare at him with wide eyes, “I thought your sister was selfish but you’re on a whole other level” He watched as your mouth opened and closed to form a sentence but failed in the end.

“I tutor you and what have you given me in return for taking time out of my day to help you?” He smirks as he inches himself to the corner of your bed to be closer to you, “Absolutely nothing”

The way how he tilts his head to the side in innocence made your grip crush the paper even more until your nails dig into the flesh of your palm, “Now don’t get me wrong there’s a lot you don’t know and I don’t have any problem lending a helping hand”

“It’s just that you have to work with me”

“All this tutoring isn't free. I need some type of compensation for all that I am doing for you”

“Comprensation?” You mock and shake your head while waving a finger his face as you march over to him

Jake looks up at you with his pouty lips and shining eyes, your hands twitch around the crunched paper, “In case you forgot I didn’t ask for your help. I told you I didn’t want it”

“And yet, you proceeded to leech off me and take it”

“Remember you did suck me off” You stay silent to swallow your guilt of the resurfacing memory from a couple days ago

“Tell me did it work? Did you manage to get Jay off?” The mention of the other male had you grimacing, making Jake raise his hands up in surrender, “What? I’m only asking” He laughs

“But your silence is telling me everything I need to know. You’re welcome then” Jake offers a hand but you slap it away with a gruff

He sighs heavily and runs the stinging hand to push the back the fluff of his hair, “No one is forcing you to do any of this”

“You have the free will to walk away and kick me out. Hell you can even tattletale on me to your sister”

“But you never do” His voice dropped into a slur when he pushed himself so close to the edge that you thought he was going to fall, “And you never will”

Your arms reach out to catch him in case he did fall and Jake smiles at the action. He looks up at you to see how you avert your eyes away from him as you pull your arms back like you hadn’t done anything.

“You live off the thrill. You thrive in the fact you have leverage over her” Your mouth gaped to say something to defend yourself but the only thing that came out was a strained noise, “So what will be in it for me if I continue to help you? Mhm?”

A loud squeal escaped your mouth when he grabbed your wrist and flipped you to your bed. His body hovers over you and smiles down on you when both of your arms are pinned down to your side.

He takes a moment to appreciate your sprawled body underneath him. His heart races and his pants tightened seeing your shaking eyes, “Actually I know exactly what can be my form of payment”

Jake lets go of your wrist having you quickly rest on your elbows when he starts to trail down your front. He hooks his hands under your ankles and pushes your legs up to your chest—exposing your clothed core.

“J-Jake” You stuttered, he hums softly to encourage you to continue which you do, “Ho-Hold on- Wait”

Following your line of sight towards the opened door, he chuckles digging your knees into your chest just enough to have your breast jump.

“What’s wrong baby?” He coos, running a hand up your shin that had you shuddering, “It’s just the two of us”

“Please don’t call me baby” Your elbows grow weak that your body sprawled back on the mattress

Right when he was going to respond, he stopped at the sight of you wiggling to push your hips out more to meet his face. He breathlessly laughs and drops his head in a shake, “Alright fine. If that’s what you want”

He rubs his calloused hand over your thighs and each shiver fueled him even more. Left to admire how you were exposed to him with no resistance whatsoever.

Yet, he doesn’t do anything beyond that causing a whine to leave past your mouth. ”Jake” You drag the last letter of his name in impatience, “Please!” You said louder than you wanted but your frustration can be heard in the tone better

He laughs and pats the side of your hip and traces his finger over your skin with a shake of his head, “What are you pleading for sweetheart?”

“Anything- Just do something”

“Aww c’mon I need better words than what” He teases knowing you would only grow even more frustrated, “I want to hear it from you”

“J-Jake just fuck me”

Jake hisses from the abrupt confession, “Did anyone ever tell you to have such a way with words?” He sucks his teeth and shakes his head, “That isn’t specific enough though, what exactly-”

You cut him off with a frustrated yell, “Stick your fingers in me, use your mouth. I don’t care, just fucking do something”

Expecting some reaction you let out a shaky exhale but you quickly suck in a breath when Jake grips the waistband of your pants and dragged them down your bent legs and threw them somewhere to be forgotten about.

“Shit you’re so fucking wet” He comments at the sight of the wet patches making your cheeks burn, “You’re soaking right through your panties”

Pulling his face to your enticing entrance, he lays a flat tongue over your panties making you squeal. He instantly groans the faint taste on his tastebuds. It was dizzying how you filled his mouth through the thin fabric.

He centered and sucked at your folds that made you jerk your hips when a weak moan left your mouth.

His nails dig into the flesh of your back thighs while lathering his mouth over the outline of your pussy. A groan ignited from his mouth when your hand found the back of his head and tangled his hair between your fingers.

Rutting into his face, his tongue protruding the tight hole that he whimpers at the retraction it gave him when he pushed too far.

The wetness lathers over his face from your soaked panties and drenches his lower half. He harshly pulls at the elastic of the band molding the shape of your cunt making you scream to pull away when it digs between the slit of your folds.

Jake pushes his hips against your bedding and the moan vibrating against your core makes you jolt, tugging harder on his hair for support.

He slurps louder when lines of arousal leaked out of you. Nicking your clit repeatedly as he presses down your hip to stop your arching back—to pull away from his opened mouth kisses.

Your slicks slide down the back of his throat and stain it of a sweetness. Tilting his head over to the side, slacking his jaw open to trails from your entrance to your bundle of nerves to gather more of it down to his stomach.

“Jake” You weakly call his name, your hands pushing his hair back to help from it getting in the way of your pleasure, “More! need more of you”

The jumps of your hips to meet his face half way made him smirk and when he runs a finger between the wettest slick he’s ever seen, he adores the shaping of your pussy.

Tugging at the thinned panties to the side to be met with your glistening entrance.

“No wonder you’re drenched” He murmurs under your breath and just let a magnetic pull that dragged him to attach his mouth back to you

He hums loudly at the direct connection of flesh on flesh and you let out your loudest moan yet when you feel the drag of his wet tongue against you.

Immediately the heels of your feet trap him by pressing down on his mid back and grind your folds over his face.

The clicks of his nose hitting your clit and his tongue inching into your entrance had you seeing stars. Jake was growing dizzy, the lack of air was the least of his concern when your arousal was all he needed to live.

Lapping over your cunt like he’s been starved was an understatement. He moves his head up and down as he lifts your hips for a better angle.

“Jak- Jakey” The you call his name makes his tongue flicker all around, your arousal dripping down ruining your sheets and flying everywhere

Left to only wither under his folding hands as he focuses on circling his tongue around your clit, he pops it into the warmth of his mouth that makes you jerk.

He blabs incoherency into your cunt as you chase after this locking mouth. The tightening of your lower abdomen tensening as your body indents the mattress with your pitiful cries as you come all over his mouth.

“Jake!” You scream his name without a care in the world as you push his head down to your spasming self

“No more-S-Sensitive” You wail realizing how Jake didn’t stop his attack on your cunt

He drags the flat of his tongue to spread the excessive amount of slick everywhere. Of course not before he downs what you released from your ripping orgasm.

Words fall deaf on your ear focusing on how the muscle flickers to encourage more release from your hole. You weakly shake your head but with the ruts of your hips contradict your words.

You feel his tongue tease your entrance that made you tighten around, he slaps the side of your thigh as he forces his mouth to latch all over your slicken core.

Pushing down on the balls of your feet to chase after your post high, your body felt light. Your clit tingles when his tall nose bridge brushes against it. Your hips jerked each time he moved with an unfaltering pace.

He breathes through his nose and inhales the sweetness of your arousal. All his senses were becoming filled by you.

When he stretches the entirety of your folds by his tongue to trail up to your bundle of nerves. You wailed weakly tugging on his hair and ears—practically anything you could get yours hands on.

The sucked in of your stomach before locking into a tightening grip as your cheeks flared in embarrassment when you felt it different from the first. You shake your head to deny and stop it from happening, “W-Wait, s-stop”

Your pleas were useless against Jake’s dazed mind. He continued to unhinge his jaw for a clear shot when you came for a second time so easily with the following of a stream shooting out of you.

Jake doesn’t pull away at the release instead he runs two fingers over your folds to usher more as he slurps at your cunt, “Messy messy” You managed to pick up on his slurred words but were too jerky to respond right away

“To-too much Jake please” Your body shakes as you weakly kick his shoulder to push him away

“Aww what happened to you calling me Jakey baby” He pants over your core but lathers his soaked face back to your aching self

You weakly shake your head but the soft peppering kisses made you melt and inch closer to his face. A ringing messed your hearing but when you feel your legs finally let go to drop to the side—leaving you still spread and exposed for him, a moan ripped from your throat.

His kisses move away from your pussy to the inner of your thighs, “So pretty” He pecks and nibbles on your skin causing to jump and making him smile against you, “You’re the prettiest girl ever”

Your heart shouldn’t jump the way it did. But you smiled in your daze and gleamed brightly as your chest bloomed.

Jake saw how you lit up at his words and he ran his rough hands over. Placing a kiss on both of your knees and the rounds of your hips, he pulls your shirt up exposing your stomach to him.

He stares at the bareness of it, he gets lost on how clean it is, not a single flaw on it.

The aching of his cock restrained in his pants didn’t help but the sounds of keys slotting into the front door and the clear cut voice of his girlfriend, he inaudibly sighs and presses the longest kiss yet in the center of your stomach.

“My pretty girl”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“How come your little fuck buddy isn’t here?” You snap your attention to your sister laying on a pool chair, sunglasses perked on her nose as the sun hits her

Your mouth twitched and almost contemplated leaving, almost.

Instead you take the seat right next to her, laying out your towel and plopping yourself down. She peeks in the corner of her eye and screeches when you snatch her sunscreen, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?

“Why so curious about him? Focus on your own boyfriend- Where even is he?”

She glared at you and you could feel it through the glasses. She snatches the sunscreen back, her nails scratching you in the process but not caring when you hissed and held your wrist forming white lines.

“Wouldn’t you like to know” She grits through her teeth and your furrow your brows in the middle, “You know ever since I showed up with him, you’ve been nothing but more of a brat”

You scoffed and nodded your head as your tongue poked the inside of your cheek, “Really? I’ve been a brat?”

“Yes! Look, I don’t care what’s happening between you and whatever you want to call what Jay is to you” You grimace harshly at her when she waved her hand in front of your face to shut you up

“But for someone of us, you know the ones that actually have a boyfriends, unlike you, are trying to get mom and dad to be aboard with him but he’s over here wasting time with you because you can’t handle a simple summer class”

“You’re acting like you need to work for their approval. News flash, you already have it no matter what you do” When you snapped she jerked back at the raise of your voice

You suck in a breath and you were going to apologize but she laughed mockingly, “Ohhhh I get it now, you‘re just jealous”

“Well it’s not my fault that I’m not like you” She shivers at the comparison of possibly being like you, “Don’t even know how we are even related”

Maybe because we both are not good people. Once your sister learns to accept them, you can actually take her seriously.

“But I am curious though, how is it knowing you’re not the favorite?”

Your hands balled into fist, an anger that only your sister can bring out of you made you feel nasty. You opened your mouth to fire back but a third voice chiming in shattered something in you.

“Woah what’s going on?” The worried accented voice, breathless from whatever the case may be, made shivers run up your spine

You look up to see Jake, sweat dripping down his forehead and neck. Oil grease and black smudges all over his sleeveless white tee and shimmering skin.

His hands were dirty with the discoloration but the bright red knuckles and joints were still visible as he moved his hair with the pull back of his head as a whole.

“Where have you been?” Your sister stands up and stomps her feet to him and grabs the bend of his arm, Jake looks away from you to his girlfriend in shock

“I-I was with your dad helping with the car” Jake stutters at the harsh tone your sister gave him like he did something wrong

“We were supposed to go out today” You picked up on the hushed words but couldn’t hear what else she said afterwards but the change in expression on Jake’s face was all you needed to know

He closes his eyes, scrunching his face as your sister rambled on about something you tuned out long ago. He sighs heavily when your sister walks inside without a glance back at him.

Your jaw clenched to screw your mouth shut but when Jake walks over to where you are, you soften your jaw and look up at him with a certain glint in your eyes of understanding.

“I’m in trouble again” He scoffs a chuckle when he sits down on your chair instead of the chair opposite of you, the one where his girlfriend sat in

Scooting an inch away from him, Jake catches it in his peripheral view. He frowns and wraps an arm around your bare waist and slides you back to plaster to his side. You yelp and put your hands to his chest when he pushes you down on the pool chair.

“Jake!” You quietly yelled his name to snap him out of it but his hair fell forward from framing his face, your breath get caught in your throat as you swallow down your words when he only stares at you, “She can come back any second- Someone will catch us”

“Then let them” He responds immediately with a hearty laugh, a hint of underlying playful tone that was almost too serious for you.

He suggest to see your face contouring into horror at the thought of being caught with him, “But if you really want, we can go somewhere a little more private”

“It wouldn't be so bad if they see us though right?” You pushed his shoulder as he spoke but he didn’t budge, “They can just call it bonding time between us”

“You’re insane” You grumbled under your breath and Jake simply smiles that made your stomach full with butterflies, he dips his head into the crevice of your neck starts to place soft kisses against your neck

You’re a goner.

“Does that mean we can move this somewhere else?” He softly asked against your skin, his tongue dragging around the unblemished skin

Your hand twitched against his shoulders, he slightly lifted his body up, just enough for you to wiggle out if you wanted to. However, when you clasped them around the points of his shoulders, he smirks and you lightly hit his upper back as his arm slipped under your body making you giggle.

You didn’t bother to change out of your swimsuit. There was a growing wet need right in between your legs and with the most convenience of Jake being there, so willing to please you whether it was actually for you or for himself—Why would you waste another second? Exactly. You wouldn’t.

And as Jake let the back of knees hit your bed, his body instinctively falling backwards in the middle as you crawl over him. He felt small under your narrowed gaze, the jut in his chest made him smile when each of your legs rested on the side of his hips. Hoisting himself up by one arm as he held your waist with the other, he looked up at you fondly.

You push back the ruffle of his hair and gleam when you see the entirety of his face. He allows his head to knock back and feel the rake of your fingers through his hair.

“I’m dirty” He chuckles but you shake your head

“No you aren’t” That was an understatement, he reeked of mechanics, poorly applied sunblock and pure sunshine. However for the last one, doesn’t he always smell that

“Lesson 3” He lifts his head to align with yours, you freeze on top of him, strong eyes staring right back at you, they slightest creased from his soft close lip smile

There was shimmering fondness in his eyes as he stared at you. He was inching closer and he softly chuckled when his lips hover right over yours. He watched how you closed your eyes shut and scrunched your face as if you were waiting for something from him.

“Expect the unexpected” When he past your face to whisper in your ear, your eyes opened and pulled away just enough to get a good look at the toothy grin spread across his face

“What if you do expect something” You meekly spoke out and he couldn’t help and giggled

He adjusted himself to lazily wrap his arms around your waist, “Never do baby”

As you settled on Jake’s lap. He was leaned up against your headboard, your door for some odd reason slightly opened when you swore you told Jake to fully close it.

He held your waist, swollen plump lips attached against your neck again.When you felt his teeth hovering over your neck pressing with pressure, you pulled his hair and he yelped when he was far from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop pulling my hair” He complained but the crazed cloud in his eyes looked at you like you were the center of his world

“Because if I don’t you’ll leave me in bruises and bite marks” He sheepishly smiles before shrugging his shoulders and pouting his lip

“It’s not my fault that you would look so good with my hickies all over your body. Plus would it be so bad after all?”

“Yes, if Jay sees this-” Jake loudly groans interrupting you with a harsh roll of his eyes

“Why do you even bother to mention him around me? I don’t get it. Shouldn’t you be more concerned with, I don't know, if your sister sees them?”

Your back straightens under his hand to softly reply, “She wouldn’t know if they’re from you”

But the dark hum from him made you flutter your eyelashes cluelessly at him, “You don’t think my own girlfriend will notice her boyfriend’s marking on someone else?”

Your body became rigid completely at the thought that this was in fact not Jake’s first time. He's probably done this multiple times to the point where he-

“It’s innocence lost, don’t fret it anymore. I can see it running through that pretty head of yours” Jake faces your head from the side to face him

You felt bare—exposed to Jake. It warmed but terrified you at the same time. It could’ve been with Jay, with anyone else that you felt this with and you would be fine, maybe a little unhappy but it would do because it wouldn’t be wrong.

Instead of confronting the gnawing thought in your head, your hand palms the bottom of his chin and lifts it up as Jake grants you to do it easily. You lick your lips at the bare of his slightly dirty neck from working with your dad outside.

You hesitated but when he pressed the back of your head down to his body, you instantly pressed feathering kisses and his broad shoulder loosened under your hands and you sigh happily that the topic was forgotten.

“You get it now?” He heartily laughs and accepts the fate and knocks his head with a thud against your headboard

Your kisses switched into soft suckles against his skin. More access to the harness of soft skin that you wondered why your sister never did anything to show her possessiveness over him.

You heard the stories of her relationships on how she was always doing the most to make sure her boyfriends were marked.

“You sure were to talk about me not leaving marks on you but you want to go ahead and mark me up?” He lowly hummed but when you continued to suck on the soft skin, the corners of his lips tug down as you blatantly ignore him

Jake’s hand gently glides up from your waist to your front. You shiver feeling the callousness against your bare skin, his hands rough, the black streaks being left from his hand to your skin like a tattoo. A reminder of what is happening.

The hand wraps around your throat and pushes your head away, reluctantly you released him with a plop of his skin between your lips,

“That’s not how it’s going to go” He sternly says, making you lightly frown when he kisses the roof of his mouth with his tongue, “You’re so greedy. Always wanting to take and take but never give”

He cooed softly, his hand letting go of your throat to crease your cheek, “Remember baby, this is a two way street. If you want to leave hickies, don’t you think I should be able to leave some as well?”

“No” You quickly shut the idea down with a firmness that made him sigh in defeat, “Jake you know that-”

“Fine” He releases your cheek to fold his arms over his chest instead of resting them on your waist, “It’s whatever”

“Wait Jake, are we okay?” You softly asked realizing how dissociated he sounded, you gulped down the nerves and poke his shoulder when he looks away

Though your soft touch melts his heart, the pressure on the tip bone of his shoulder makes him turn to face you—which should’ve been the first mistake.

There was one thing he learned about you from the time he’s spent either around you and observing you, there was nothing he could do to salvage himself whenever he looked at you. ”Why wouldn’t we be baby”

“How many times do I have to tell you to not call me baby”

Your little fit about the name calling always made him smile. The initial annoyance fading away when his sleazy tease that jerks yours and his heart, “However many times until it sticks into my mind and rolls off my tongue like second nature”

You narrow your eyes when he fiddles with the ribbons of your bathing suit, “You know you look very pretty” He tilts his head up from looking over your body

There a was a burning sensation under your cheeks and you tried to hide your face by turning to the side but the grip on your chin forced you to turn and face him again, “Look the absolute prettiest when you’re flustered”

“Don’t say that”

“Why not?” He jerks his hand away making you miss the warmth of his skin on yours

“Because you don’t mean it” Your voice grew smaller each time you spoke

There were many expressions you’ve seen from Jake but none of them were half as emotional as this one. His eyes were wide in disbelief, his jaw dropped, looking at you like you were insane for even saying that.

“Don’t look at me like-“

“What do you mean that I don’t mean it? I’m pretty sure I know what comes out out of my mouth is real or not”

You sigh heavily, shuffling awkwardly on his lap, trying to pull off him but Jake digs his nails into the flesh of your hips and brings you down, this time right on top of his hard-on.

You let out a weak wanton moan at the poke inside of your thigh passing to your covered core. “Go on. Say it”

“You probably tell this to every girl you’re with. My sister wouldn’t be far from there either-“ You don’t know why you spoke your mind, it was something being picked apart by the very hands that held you

“Lesson 4” He cuts you off curtly making you quiet, “Law of assumption is a nasty one”

You snicker which was the second mistake.

“You think it’s funny baby?”

“Stop calling me-” He cut you off with an abrupt kiss that left your mind dizzy, you freeze for a second but it was dreading when you fall into a rhythm

Your nails dig into the flesh of his bare broad shoulders, he holds you tightly by your lower back and brings you closer to him. The traveling of his hand up your middle back—tracing your spinal cord in the process sent goosebumps everywhere.

You tilt your head to the side, gripping the fluff of his hair to push further into the kiss. Jake crossed your lips with his tongue before squeezing your skin and biting your bottom lip that made you squeal just enough for the wet muscle to slip into your warm mouth.

He sighs in satisfaction and nibbles on any flesh he could sink his teeth into.

“Gonna need to be quiet if you don’t want to be caught” He blabs against your mouth but he knew he couldn’t keep up with his own words, it was a paradise kissing you

Your lips felt sore and raw from how much he kept biting on them, you tried to lightly push him away due to the lack of oxygen making you feel like you would pass out from kissing him.

The way Jake’s hair slots perfectly through the cracks of your fingertips as you allow yourself to melt into his embrace. Having a cramp form from the force of craning your neck downwards couldn’t bother you more than the growing need in between your legs.

Your heart was thumping as you kept chasing after his mouth when he pulled away just a little. Adjusting yourself in his lap, the poking against your thigh had you falling apart and softly moaning into his mouth.

He swallowed down those sounds for his ears only. His hand travels over your bare back and in a fit of giggles, he smiles brightly against your lips because if there was one thing that he knew, he would leave this room having you.

Pulling away in a haste making you gasp loudly before sinking your teeth into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. He breathlessly laughs and runs his fingers bone to bone.

“What’s wrong baby, you keep moving. Feeling uncomfortable?” The tone was falsed with care

“Jakey” You slurred your words, “Please”

“Aww what are you pleading for sweetheart?” His warm breath grazing your skin felt like fire running under his skin to burn him whole

The tips of his fingers fiddled with the hem of your swimsuit before pulling your nape up to make you look at him with begging shaking eyes. “Words now”

“Fuck me please” Your voice as small and he almost couldn’t catch it, who is he deny your helpless pleas

“You’re shameless” He grazes his lips with yours and laughs against it

You weakly shake your head to deny it but you let out a loud gasp when his hand slips from your mid back and to your stomach and trails down.

His wicked laugh contradicts your frantic breaths. “No? Oh we don’t like liars now do we baby?”

“The law of assumption is a nasty one” You repeat back his words and he let out a smirk

A feeling driving him crazy from the moment he laid his eyes on you—His girlfriend’s sweet and innocent sister.

“It is when you’re not being truthful but in our case. We aren’t”

Jake didn’t give you a chance to fight back, not when he pulled your swimsuit aside—his fingers teasing the skin just above your core.

“Lift your hips up for me” He whispers past the shell of your ear and not wasting time, you followed his words because you didn’t feel like testing him today knowing he could leave you hot and bothered and worst of all, untouched

Jake gleams seeing how you did what he asked. Instead of letting you off his lap completely, you’re stopped midway and the confusion written over your face was everything to him, “Trust me”

You shouldn’t have, that much you knew. However, putting your faith into him. You flutter your eyes closed. Thighs and knees burning from your held position yet, that pain faded away into an adrenaline when you feel his rough hand on you again.

Digging your fingers into his shoulders, feeling the broadness of them again, you tremble realizing what you had pleaded for him, your sister’s boyfriend.

He silently hissed but the death grip on your hips distracted either of you from anything else. You become rigid above Jake when you feel

him tugging the bottoms covering your core.

“Fuck how are you this wet? Does Jay even try to make you come?” Jake spat more for himself when he saw you soaking through your bottoms like you had taken a swim, “Absolute imbecile”

Your eyes almost fluttered open instead you let out a loud shriek and screwed your eyes tighter when he harshly grabbed at your thin clothed breast. The roughness dug into your flesh making you cry, “What the hel-“

“To distract you” He murmurs cutting you off before you get another chance to speak, he drags your body back down causing your jaw to fall slack

“Jake!” You squeal his name at the stretch of his tip entering you and splitting you apart

Digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Jake tightened his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet when you couldn’t stop sobbing, never being this stretched out ever before.

“S-So big- it’s too much” Your eyes finally open and through wet tears, you look down to see the bareness of his cock disappearing into you

“You’re so tight fuck” He breathlessly says, “Does he never stretch you out or what?”

Through hiccups and sniffles you weakly shake your head no the more you sink down onto his hard length. A thought of Jay crossing and disappearing as quickly as it showed up when you feel Jake twitch inside of you.

You could feel every vein, each jerk and waking pump that he had as he pushed through your walls.

“J-Ja-Ja…” You wail and Jake slams you down to fully engulf him making your scream and he throws a hand over your mouth to shut you up

“Jay ever made you feel this good? Is that why you’re calling out to

him?” You roughly shake your head, tears running down your cheeks and dangling at your chin before falling to his chest, “Then why are you saying his name like he’s the one fucking you”

You weakly slap his chest the moment he bottoms out. Your fluttering hole gaped around the length, welcoming him into the warm wet confinement that he couldn’t not ram into you.

The slickness spilling past your pussy and lathering over him all the way to the base was enough to make him slide in like it was home. Your bottom half of the bathing suit rubbed his base and your clit making each of you suck in a breath.

Your ragged breaths muffled by his hand finally fell off when you were blabbing into it and shaking your head uncontrollably as if to prove something.

“N-No he’s never” It was like fireworks going off in his heart, the gnawing disgusting feeling faded away to a mellow happiness

It was his revelation and the third and possibly the biggest mistake of the day.

“Oh he’s never fucked you?” He raised an eyebrow, the hands holding your hips pushed them up against his crotch making you strain a moan

The corner of Jake’s mouth pulls up as he watches you chase that small friction. Groaning softly when you rutted your hips harder down, balled up fist against his chest, your tears drying only to be drenched again by the new ones.

“Glad to know he won’t ever after this” He laughs when your head is thrown back, such unrhythmic movements of your hips to make you unconsciously good, “Let's break you on my cock mhm?”

“Going to fucking ruin you baby”

Jake leans against the headboard, his warm hands leaving your burning body to stretch over his head and watch you. You whine when he doesn’t help you and instead he sucks his teeth and shake his head

“You wanted to get fuck right? So do it yourself” The tone was clear and stern, no room for arguments and you didn’t want to test him today

Moving your hand from his chest to hold his shoulders with a weak wet

bounce that rippled in the room. Your body is still not accustomed to the stretch yet forcing yourself to be by the way he fills you up. It was too delicious to pull away from.

Your head hangs back as you drag yourself from him before slowing back down. Fresh tears fell from the corners of his eyes as he wiped away gently.

Jake watches how your bottom lip shivers, shaking when you repeat the motion again and again until you find a slow pace. Your moans were growing by the second that he swore someone would hear you from down the hallway.

“Thought you didn’t want to get caught” He strains through gritted teeth when you clamped down around his length and continued inconsistent movements, “Why happened to that moral compass of yours?”

You couldn’t respond, he knew that. All that slipped past your lips were weak whines and incoherent blabs ranging from ‘Help me’ and ‘So good’ and his favorite, ‘Fuck me Jakey please’

The more you clamped around him, not letting him go even more than an inch before you were back at the base. The leaking tip pressed into your gummy walls and you felt full while barely moving.

“I can’t even be mad at you” He softly creased your head, “You’re taking me so well baby, I could stay inside of you forever”

Jake chuckles when he feels your hole fluttering around him, “You like the thought of that?”

“That I fuck you so good that you’ll be full of me to the point it’ll drip out of you”

“Jakey” You whimper his name focusing on chasing the pleasure you felt when he first rammed you onto him

“Tell me what you want” His tone smooth and slurred, a warm hand carefully wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you up to face him

“Tell me what you want” He repeats what he says but when you screw your eyes shut the grind of your hips, finally finding the spot that hit your clit made a louder moan rip out of you

The soft grip tightened instantly and it woke you up from the daze when Jake’s free hand stopped your moving hips. You peer open your eyes to see the stretched frown as he stares at you.

When you discreetly move your hips in a circle, Jake instantly stops it and taps the side of your hips, “Up babe” Simple words but more than enough for you to slowly get up on your knees and stare at him like he hung the stars

His lips twitch into a soft smile and he hooks a hand under your arms and pulls you off him. “Shit” He grunts when you wrapped perfectly around his tip until your pussy reluctantly let him go with a plop

Your mouth was wide open with uneven breaths following when you looked down and caught sight of the very cock you had in your mouth, resting heavy and hard on his tanktop. The glistening shaft with the distinctive veins trailing all around, a red angry tip leaking of precum and a base covered in your arousal alone.

“Dirty girl” He chuckles making a dust of heat cross your cheeks as you look at him through clearing eyes, you wiped your face to rid of any tears left behind

Jake softly pushes your body to the bed to hover over you. Sweat trickling down his forehead down his neck as he admires you with shining eyes but toots and disappointedly shakes his head.

It must’ve shown on your face how confused you were when he laughed. A hand reached down and pulled his shorts up, stuffing his pulsing hard-on back in the restraints of his pants and pushed himself off of your bed and straight to your door.

“Lesson 2 baby” He grins even when you catch sight of his bulging tent peeking through before he squeezed out of your room, purposefully leaving your door open

You quickly rush up on your palms and stare where he once stood. You throw a blanket over your body and cover yourself with an agape mouth when through a lust needy cloud, you recall the said lesson of expect the unexpected.

Grumbling loudly under your breath but stopped when your sister passes through and stops at your open door, “Why do you have the door open?” She stops and scrunches her face in distaste, “Ugh why do you still have your bathing suit on if you were working with dad”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion and she sighs aggravated and points towards you, “I’m talking about those black streaks all over neck, the most you could’ve done was clean it off before getting into bed”

You first put on your sheets and strain a faltering smile, trying to hide your tingling and rest of your marked body from sight. All while trying to get the feel of fullness out of your head, “Expect the unexpected I guess”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

It sounded nasty in your sister’s room. The muffled shouting and yelling heard from down the hallway. You were only going to go to the bathroom, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

Yet, the moment you stepped out, it was like your feet got glued to the ground and you couldn’t move from your doorway as you try to make out whatever they were arguing about.

“Jake you suck as a boyfriend do you realize that?” The said male sighs heavily and rubs his creased forehead

“Fake boyfriend” He corrects with emphasis under his breath which got drowned out by your sister’s continuous rant

“Last time I checked you promised to the be the best boyfriend ever but ever since we came here you’ve been sticking to my sister like a vice and it’s frustrating”

“What is that about huh? Do you fucking like her or what? Don’t miss me with that love bullshit”

“Don’t ask me about nonsense” Jake harshly whips his head over to your sister, “Why don’t we talk about if Heeseung actually cares about this fake ass relationship may I remind you and will crawl back to you”

“Let me remind you that she has Jay so don’t start getting ideas thinking you’re special and stupidly get attached to her” Jake balls his fist at his sides at the mention of Jay’s name again floating in the air like how it always does in this house

“I should’ve gotten someone else that would’ve actually tried to make

this plan work instead of you” Your sister yells as she opens the door hastily, “Fuck you Jake”

“Yeah don’t hold your breath” Jake scoffs loudly when your sister stomps down the hallway making him sigh heavily

Jake grabs whatever he sees in sight and chucks it across your sister’s room in anger. He lets out a frustrated yell and when he hears a soft knock at the door, he whips his head thinking it was his girlfriend.

But at the sight of you hesitantly bringing your hand back down from the door, his shoulders slouch, the aggravated face and glaring eyes softened instantly. He lets out a deep exhale and runs a hand through his hair, ruining the styled fluff of it.

“Are you okay?”

Jake doesn’t respond, instead he walks over to the edge of your sister’s bed and plops his body heavily on there before sighing heavily and running another hand through his hair, ruining it completely. The slight styled waves landed over his forehead, almost enough to cover his eyes.

He looks up at you with a slight frown and shakes his head. Extending out his hands and doing a grabby motion towards you. You try to hold back the smile by covering it up with a small cough.

Slowly walking over to him and just when you were in distance, he wraps his arms around you and brings you to him. You let out a squeak when his head pressed into your stomach.

Nestling his cheek, you freeze at the gripping embrace. A wave of fondness glosses over making you softly pet his hair before running your hands through it, much more careful and gentle than how he did earlier.

“Just need you right now” He murmurs against your shirt having you lightly giggle to conceal the thumping of your heart

You were sure he could feel it by being pressed up against you and instead of freaking out, you accept it and nod your head, “Okay… I can stay for a minute”

“No please stay longer” Jake roughly shook his head and rested his chin on you

Your gaze shifts down to see him, a soft pout stretched down on his face, big droopy eyes staring up at you and his hands rubbing any piece of you he could get his hands on.

You stop pushing back his hair, resting it just by his ear. “I really really need you” His voice was softer than anything he’s ever said before

When Jake’s hand roamed your body, moving from your back to your sides, down your hips and thighs to stop at the waistband of your pants. You close your eyes and softly push at his shoulders but he doesn’t budge and instead digs his chin harder into your ribs.

“Goodnight Jake” You sternly say but your words slowly fade out when his fingers hook under the entirety of the elastic, “No- At least not here”

Jake could only care about the fact you said at least not here. You weren’t denying him anymore.

Letting out a yelp when you were suddenly flipped to your sister’s bed. Your body jumps from the soft mattress, a loud gasp escaping your mouth when Jake is on top of you.

Instantly he attaches his mouth to your soft skin, trailing soft kisses from the point of your shoulder to the sweet spot on your neck that cracked the sweet noises he adored. Pursing his lips together and sucking harshly on the unblemished skin.

You shudder a moan, back arching slightly as he slots a knee in the middle of the legs, brushing up against your clothed pussy making you melt further into the mattress.

“Anywhere but here Jake” He sighs heavily, pulling his head away to focus his attention on you to make sure you see him shaking his head

“It’s either here or nowhere” Jake scoffs, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, “Why do you even care? You don’t even like her”

“That’s not the point” You gulp down the lump forming in your throat and awkwardly clear it

“Well it doesn’t matter. She treats you like crap and this is the perfect opportunity to get back at her” He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts it up to make you face him, “Wouldn’t it be good to know that you fucked your sister’s boyfriend in her own bed”

“You know how much she loves this shit like it’s her palace”

You grip his shoulders, frantic eyes looking away because you knew he was right. And he knew you knew he was.

He smirks and presses rough kisses against your neck and you hit his back but not to hurt him but just enough to make him grin harder against your skin.

"Fuck you Jake" He chuckles at the venom seeping through your words

He breaks away from your neck, feathering kisses trailing up the line until he outlines the shell of your ear. His hot breath made your legs clench around his knee and you whimpered when he grips your hips tightly, "You already have"

When he pulls away and you turn to face him, he smiles and leans in. He captures your lips in a feverish way, teeth clanking together, his tongue lathering itself all around your plush flesh. He was kissing you like a starved man who has been denied his only need for decades.

For a second you freeze and screw your eyes shut, your nails graze his back until you tilt your head and melt into the kiss. He smiles happily that you’re reciprocating the kiss again.

The fitted black shirt did nothing for your imagination as you dragged down his shirt when he pressed his lips deeper on yours.

You whimper in the kiss, trails of red left behind in your wake through his shirt. Jake shakingly cups your jaw as he slides across your bottom lip—begging for entrance.

The slight opening was more than enough to have him sliding past and exploring your mouth. He groaned softly when you clawed at his skin.

Jake wasn’t someone spontaneous, taking pride in always being somewhat calculated. Yet, he always had to expect the unexpected when it comes to you. Especially now when it dawns over him that it’s addictive kissing you.

His cold hand fiddles with the hem of your shirt before slipping it under against the harness of your skin. Moaning softly into the needy kiss, you feel the hand roaming—memorizing every dip and curve you had to offer.

The higher he trailed up the more your breath hitched until it got stuck in your chest and a loud gasp escaped your mouth when he roughly cups at your breast.

His fingers instantly run over the hardening bud and twisting it making you wail just enough for Jake sticks his tongue further down your throat from the perfect opportunity.

You silently gagged around the intrusion while he gargled a laugh at your struggle. Hastily pulling back with a heavy breath from you, you’re panting trying to make up for the lost air.

“You have to be quiet” Jake knows he wouldn’t stay true to his words but he just loves to see the twitches on your face to hide your worry

“Jake” You swallow down each breath, “Hold on”

Your pleas fall deaf on his ears the moment he reattaches himself back to your lips. Pecking the swollen plush repeatedly to cut off any words or thoughts daring to come from you.

“That’s right baby. Just let me do everything. Let me take care of you” Instead of trying anymore, you fall into it and kiss back with less of a need to keep you both connected

He squeezed around your breast, nails digging into your flesh making you cry. Pinching on your hardened bud to irritate it made you jolt in your sister’s mattress more.

“Stop teasing” You grit through your teeth even though you were loving every second of it, “Do something”

“So impatient” He lowly slurs before running his hand over both of your breast, “Guess the apple never does fall too far from the tree”

“I know you can take me, no point in wasting time” Your head pushes back into the bedding when he fondles them with a harsh touch, not caring if he was gentle or not

A roaming hand travels down past your stomach to play with your waist band before hooking under it and tugging down both your garments in one trip. “What a nasty girl” He laughs when he noticed you helping him out

He shifts his potions to stand, hands letting go of your body to bring attention to the edges of your pants. He trugs softly at them until they slip past your hips and removes them in one go.

Your legs tried to squish together before he could catch a glimpse of your glistening entrance but he sprawled his palms on your knees and spread them to the bed to expose you to him.

Your hands fist the sheet and screw your eyes shut when he softly cooed, “Aww is this all for me?”

When you don't respond, he frowns and runs a finger over your slit making a wanton moan rip out of you. “I asked you something baby”

“Yes! It’s for you! All for you Jakey” The words rushed out in a single breath

He plunges his finger in one swift motion that makes you frantically gasp. “That’s good” He chuckles, “Glad to know you wouldn’t be like this for anyone else that isn’t me”

Stretching out your hole little by little in a scissoring motion had you withering in the sheets. Jake hooked his free arm under your leg to keep you from moving and slacked his jaw open to attach to your dripping core.

“J-Jake!” You squeal, tugging softly on the fluff of his ruined hair as Jake sucked and sucked all arousal that spilled out

His fingers worked simultaneously to pump in and out of you while he tongue flickered over your folds, lathering your arousal with his saliva.

He groans when you harshly tug his head closer to you, grinding your hips to his face as weak moans fall from your mouth. It managed to shake all the way up to your head and instantly take over your rationality.

Jake continued to lap at your pussy like it was the sweetest treat ever. A lovely essence that he can’t grow sick of when his fingers curl, your body curls too.

“So fucking sweet, I love how you taste baby” He blabs against your entrance leaving you shivering with each wet kiss he plants

You couldn’t respond when his tongue teased your filled hold and you jerked to move away from the extra intrusion. Jake was quicker than you anticipated and held your place.

“Nu uh none of that. You’re going to take it for me” He lifts his head with a heavy pant and you see the string of saliva connecting him from your pussy to his mouth

You swallow down your words when he grins and licks his lips, breaking the string. He hummed blissfully at the taste, eyes fluttering close in pleasure before forcing himself back down for more.

“Be good for me alright?” He doesn’t give any warning when he drags his two fingers out, only leaving his fingers buried in your hole

He stays like for a moment before pushing in three fingers knuckle deep without a care how you clench around him. “Need to fill you up right” His dark laugh that has you insides twisting, “I couldn’t ignore how you suck me in”

“Want to see how much you can take before you’re coming without any stop” You strain a mewl and attempt to grab his wrist in response to his words making him lightly chuckle

The drag of his fingers were rough and deep, three fingers squished in your gaped hole, squeezing around him perfectly that left his mind dizzy and needing more.

Repeating the motion again and again of dragging his fingers out before sliding them back in. The squelching out your arousal and quiet moans left you both in a daze, “You need to be more quiet there”

“You don’t want to get caught right?” He whispered just enough for you to hear but when you clench around his fingers, he crocks a brow upwards, “Or maybe I stand corrected”

“You want to be seen like this don’t you?” He laughs almost manically, a warm breath fanning over your core that ran a shiver up your spine

You weakly shake your head but the loudest moan ripped out of you when he attached his mouth directly to the swollen bud. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he curls and opens you up more.

Every flick followed by suck on your clit and pump of his fingers knuckles deep into you had you shaking, back arching off your sister’s bed just for him.

No longer trying to pull away from him, you wrap your legs around his head to latch his moving mouth to your pussy.

“There’s my dirty babe” He mumbles against your slicken core, he knew you were close to edge, it was obvious with the way you kept pulse around his digits to keep him buried in you

“Right there- Jakey” Your voice was pitched and strained when a gush rushed out of you that managed to push him out of your gaped hole

You were gasping loudly when he attached his lips back to your pussy with such need. He rubbed his face harshly against you, his fingers rubbing over your folds to usher more of your release on his tongue.

He slurped whatever release came out of you, not wanting anything to go to waste. “Keep it coming baby” He screws his eyes shut feeling your fluttering hole around his intruding tongue, “Give it it to me”

You wailed to the muffled words, your body shaking trying to pull away from his ruthlessly kisses. The sensitivity grows too much for you to handle but Jake toothily grins when you take his fingers back into you. You weakly try to push him away but fail when he pressed his body onto your lower body.

He pushes in and out, every squelch bounced off your sister’s walls. “You’re making a mess sweetheart” He taunts even though he presses a free hand down your lower abdomen

Your legs weakly push his shoulders but with fail, Jake didn’t move an inch. He only continued to lap at your pussy, blatantly ignoring the ache in his jaw.

“Can’t take anymore Jakey please” You shake your head but the pressure on your stomach digs deeper as Jake ushers his fingers up and down your core

To your horror, flings of your arousal landing everywhere on his hands, arms, face and the bed underneath you. “Yes you can” He breathlessly pants as he rubs his palm over you

You’re a moaning mess by the time he feels your clenching around him again. Rutting down his hand harder and faster, his palm rubbing your clit continuously, his fingers curling up to your gummy walls and scratching them to leave his mark on you.

Your lower stomach flexed as you came over his fingers and mouth for the second time tonight. Shots of your arousal came out of you and over his fingers but his pace didn’t stop.

“Jake” You tried to crawl away from him but you were rooted into place, tongue lolled out to swallow everything that you were offering him

“There’s my girl. So beautiful. So perfect for me” He encourages more of your release to land on his tastebuds, his head was dizzy unsure if it was from the lack of oxygen or your sweet venom

Either way, this was the paradise he would rather get ripped apart for before willingly giving you up.

Jake presses soft kisses and carefully pulls away completely. Your mind was reeling to come down from the pleasure you had never felt before. Your ragged breaths mixed with his heavy pants.

“You okay baby?” He strokes the side of your face softly and you nestle into it for a form of comfort. You look up at him with rimmed eyes to see his pupils blown out all to stare at you like the center of his universe

A toothy lopsided grin made your heart flutter that you swore Jake would be able to hear from where he stood in front of you. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, your fisted hand loosened around the sheets and you stare at him with wet eyes.

“Fuck me”

Jake physically jerks at your words but the toothy grin is replaced with a smug smirk. He leans over your body, hands hiking up your shirt as he lets out a deep chuckle that makes your insides tingle. “Say it again. I need to hear you say it again”

“Fuck. Me. Jake” You emphasis every word sending him down a rabbit hole he didn’t want to escape from

“Such nasty words” He lowly hums while fumbling his belt as he makes his way towards you, a gaze that clouded his eyes darkly, “Think you can stay quiet?”

“Who cares” You stared at him at the foot of the bed, a prominent bulge daring to burst at any moment

“You do” Jake’s quick rebuttal made you quiet making him giggle at your stare, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one with the need to stay a precious innocent angel”

He doesn’t struggle freeing himself from his raging hard-on. Your eyes widened at the angry red tip shining with precum slapping against his abdomen. Regardless of seeing it already, you swallow watching how it twitches at the freedom.

Jake laughs watching your slacked face and chuckles with a blooming across his chest. “Why so serious?”

“You know you can take me, no need to be scared” He runs a rough hand up and down your side until he rests his hand just above your heart, “Relax for me baby”

Your breath comes out in intervals, so uneasy that your chest rises and drops unnaturally. There was thumping against your chest that Jake for sure knew about now. Never in your life did you think you would ever be in this position. Well now you were and there was no turning back.

“Good girl” A single finger trails down your chest, circling your covered nipple and slipping down, “You never disappoint. Your sister doesn’t even give me this”

The mention of his girlfriend, your own sister, made a sense of dread fill your stomach. A reminder that Jake isn’t actually yours even when it felt like he was from the moment he walked through the front door.

You screw your eyes shut because if it was out of sight then it would be out of mind. You focused hard enough you can smell her signature perfume lingering in the air, forcing you to claw at Jake’s shoulder.

He hisses loudly and grips your hips while pressing down on your body with his own. “You have some nasty secrets but it’s okay because I have them too”

“Let me put these dirty secrets on you” You crack open your eyes for a second to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes

Jake was gorgeous, generally perfect for you. The only downside, he was dating your sister.

Or at least that was what they made you and everyone else believe.

He aligns the tip of cock to your entrance, he slides his length to lather your arousal over him before carefully pushing in just past the tightness. You loudly gasp, knocking your head back at the slow stretch growing the more you sink down his cock.

“Fuck” You breathlessly said, inhaling sharply where the faint notes of his cologne filled your noise, the smell of your sister’s scent of her room fading out of your mind

It takes everything in Jake's power to not bottom out like how he did before but it was difficult when the delicious wet confinement welcomed and accustomed to him.

“S-Shit you take me so good” He drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and neck, “You’re always so good”

Jake didn’t move from where he stopped pushing in. The both of you peered down to see him disappearing into you. A clear amount of inches left to be sucked in.

Your ragged breaths follow his heavy pants and without warning or struggle, Jake snaps his hips forwards making your body jolt and the bed creak under his movements.

“Jake!” You shout his name but he slaps a hand over your mouth with a warning glare

“Shhh keep it quiet for me sweetheart” He smiles but now that he was bottomed out in you without struggle, only feeling how you try to get used to his length, “You can do that for me right?”

“Yes” Hearing how your voice cracks fills his chest with pride and he softly nicks your skin with his grazing teeth, “Jakey” You moan his name like it’s the only thing you have ever known

“That’s right say my fucking name” He groans as he drags his cock our before roughtly pushing back in

Your sister’s bed creaks under his first thrust and only continues when he drags his hips already too deep in his sense of the way you wrap around him. Each thrust left you empty for a moment before you were instantly filled up again.

His tip pressed into your gummy walls in ways you didn’t know possible. Each push and pull he gave you was each press into your g-spot.

You shake your head when he repeatedly hits the same spot once he realizes that was what let your loudest moans rip out.

“You say goodnight yet your pussy keeps me buried in you. Which one is it? Cmon baby where are you now?” Jake says as he picks up his pace into a ruthless manner

The creaking of your sister’s bed worsened, your moans and his grunts mixing as one as you wrap your arms over his body for leverage. There were no thoughts in your mind besides the fulfillment Jake was giving you.

“I don’t even fuck my girlfriend like this” He huffs like it was something to be proud, “There’s no way she would take me as good as you do”

“You’re better than her- Far much better”

You were relishing the backhanded praises. It made your heart drop with each compliment but there was a hidden happiness that filled you with it. Your skin crawls at the revelation but you’re far too gone to care anymore.

“He don’t fuck you like this does he?” Jake snorts in the shell of your ear, you knew who was he was referring to but when you opened your mouth to respond, he slammed his hip upwards in a bruising pace

Your reply to him was nothing but whines and breathlessly gasps. Jake felt you clamping around him causing him to darkly chuckle but never letting his fast pace let up, “Tell me he doesn’t fuck you this good”

“Jake slow down please” You wail with nails scratching down his broad back, it pierces through his shirt that he could feel the burn forming where you claw at him

“No” He growls, pressing down on your hips to continue slamming into you, “Take it for me. Say this is only for me”

Jake was losing sense of reality with the way you grip around him, this was all he ever needed. “Say it”

“For you Jakey” You sink your nails into his shoulder blades, “For you”

Jake couldn’t help but proudly smile. His heart thumping against his chest that he swore it would burst out any second. “So good- It’s all just for you”

Harsher thrust was his response, you could tell it fueled his desire when every thrust left you empty and slammed full in a matter of seconds. Your broken wails were muffled by the rush of his mouth meeting yours.

You gargled a noise but he swallowed it into his mouth as he messily dragged his tongue all over your lips. “Let them fucking hear how beautiful you sound for me”

Dragging your hand up to the back of his hair and pulling on it as your legs hook around his waist to keep him buried in you. “I’m going to breed your pussy baby that you’ll be so full of me”

“How does that sound? mhm?” He pops your bottom lip through his teeth, “You’ll like that? Be so full of me that you can’t even hold it and it’ll just have to slide down your thigh the moment you stand up”

“Yes! Yes!” You chant, your walls memorizing the drags of his cock, feeling the veins that traced all around it and mold it into your gummy velvet walls, “Yes please Jakey”

His thrust was growing erratic, unrhythmic if they were even that in the first place. Jake’s tip was ripping and bruising your insides with each movement he did, he couldn’t help himself any longer.

“Come for me baby” He grunts lowly just enough for you to hear the more you clamped around him

Each pulse around his moving shaft was daring enough to bring him closer to his orgasm. “Can I come inside- Let me come inside you” He whines as his hips were chasing after your confinement, "Please please”

Tightening your legs around him, your fingers aching by the way you kept gripping him and when your arms flail around his body to hold him close as you let out your loudest moan yet as you came all over his cock.

The wet squelch worsened by your release glistening his shaft and while you entered a state of bliss, Jake continued to chase after his own despite the sudden limitation for his range of motion. However, the new profound tightness was a blessing in disguise.

He lets out uneven breaths in a shudder when his thrust continues their awkward pace as he paints your velvet walls white of him. “So good shit- Too good for me”

“I love you. I love you” His words cleared your muffled ears, your eyes jump wide open as your mind short circuits from the three words said so easily

Your heart is hammering against both of your chest as he pushes his cum deeper into you, you claw harder down his back when he doesn’t still his thrust.

Moans bounce off the room’s walls until Jake finally comes to a complete stop. His cock lodged deep into you, his chest fell up and down after each breath, his eyes trained on how the rim of your pussy and his base gleamed white.

You felt the endless twitches inside the gummy walls however it disappeared making you whine at the sudden emptiness. Jake pulls his hardened cock out of you to hang right over your stomach.

Jake seems to have many mistakes but this was his biggest one when he looks up at you and catches the afterglow you were shimmering in. Your mouth slacked open, fresh tears he didn’t even notice streaking down your cheeks, and his marks littering your skin from your neck for everyone to see down to your rising chest only for him to see.

His eyes trails down to see the glops of his cum seeping out and onto your sister’s bed. His heart stops for a second before it jumps into his throat that he tried to swallow away.

“Jakey” Your voice hoarse and weak and it rips his attention away from the sight to focus on your fucked out expression

The way you looked up at him with pleading confused eyes, a harsh swallow to clear your throat twisted his chest and his body moved on its own. You whine when your body is flipped on the opposite side, your head turning to the side and pressed into your sister’s pillow and one of your legs is hiked up to the side.

He pushes your head down to the soft slick pillow and pushes his cock past into your aching pussy.

You flail your legs under him, hands fisting the sheets again until your knuckle turns white and your mouth slipping out moans to be drowned in your sister’s bed.

Droll slipped past the corner of your mouth, pooling onto the pillow when Jake grips the side of your hips and pulls it harshly to the side to watch how you swallow him in.

You grip the edge of the bed and moan loudly with each thrust that sends your body jolting further into the mattress. Your clit rubbing in the shit mixed with him filling you up, “Jake- Fuck slow down” You try to say but he only groans to avoid responding to your fake plea

“Take it sweetheart. Be a good girl for me and fucking take it” He thrust harder up, watching the recoil where you and him met

He pressed down on your knee to keep it leveled higher than your hip. The position had your eyes rolling to the back of your head while Jake was lost in the trance of his cum leaking down to the bed.

This time feeling the tears dimming your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you couldn’t contain your moans any longer with each hard thrust. Jake watched how your mouth was permanently opened as the beautiful noises he lives off of falls from your mouth.

“So fucking perfect for me. I need you forever baby” He drags his length out of pussy, leaving your empty for a second too long than what you wanted

Yet, he rams back into you to make up for the extra second of emptiness. “Who says I need your sister? I don’t need her anymore when I have you”

Your heart flutters at his words but you bury your head into her pillow in shame. You didn’t mean for it to turn out this way but your sister didn’t deserve him, everyone knew that.

Jake deserved better or worse. That is why he chose you in the end over her.

“You can be my girlfriend instead of her” He groans watching how you kept clenching around his cock the more he spoke, “Or maybe I get the best of both worlds by riding it out with her”

“Taunting you and fucking you behind her back. Sounds like an absolute dream”

Like a bucket of cold water was thrown over you to snap out of the haze that you peer behind you watching how Jake was already staring at you. He lets out a sinister grin as his pace slowed down but his thrust never faltered.

Each one teased your inside, poking where he could and will taint you. “You’ll drop that asshole of your boyfriend you have so that I can keep you all to myself”

You slam your hand down in the mattress with a shiver of your bottom lip, “Not my boyfriend” You correct in a time like this

Jake laughs loudly, his bruising grip pulling your body further apart to watch how your pussy allows him with ease and a big warm wet welcome.

He slips his hand under your body and down to your begging bundle of nerves and giggles when you wail and try to wiggle away from him. “Don’t run from me babe. It breaks my heart when you do that”

You let out a loud moan when he pressed harder down your clit and pushed his cock deep into you as you came around him again for how many times he ripped one of you the entire night.

He chuckles happily with no intent of stopping his own chase of pleasure again. Jake continues to push deeper into your gummy walls, you pawed at his wrist to rid it from your bud of nerves.

He ripped your freehand with his own and pressed it down to his girlfriend’s bed. Your balled up hand is engulfed by his as he holds it tightly. “Jake- Please” Your mind was too fogged to care about anything else that wasn’t him

The gnawing sensation in your stomach faded away as a pleasurable warmth filled you. Your body arches inwards when he stays true to his words of filling you up. The mess of your white velvet walls once again covered in white because of him.

Jake hovers his mouth over your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin and clamping down but not enough to break the skin to keep quiet of his own whines.

He lets out strained noises when you keep fluttering around him—trying to push him out when he doesn't dare move an inch out of you. “So good for me” He presses soft kisses from your shoulder up to your neck, “You make me so proud”

The praises filled your weakened mind and made a warmth cross your cheeks as you buried your face more into the pillow to hide away from him. “Knew you would be perfect for me” Jake continues, loving how you react to his words, “Wish I met you instead of your sister. Would’ve been nice if you were mine instead of her”

The words left a sour taste in your mind but you couldn’t deny the fluttering of your heart. A forbidden desire in the form of your sister’s boyfriend was your worst nightmare but your biggest desire.

When Jake pushes off your body with one last nibble to your earlobe, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your hand loosened from the edge of your sister’s bed and tried to move but hissed at the undeniable ache all over your body.

You can hear Jake giggling from behind you and you peer over your shoulder and horror daunted over you when you see his phone out, pointed directly to where he was still twitching in you, a sudden flash filling the room as he took a picture.

“What are you doing?!” A rush of adrenaline coursed through you and you try to push yourself up but Jake presses a flat hand on your back to keep you still

Watching his thumb effortlessly move across his screen until a satisfied grim stretches across his face. His eyes shined and you were unsure if it was from happiness or his screen.

His index fingers turn off his phone before panning the device over to you and turning it on with a single touch. Mortification runs your blood cold when you see the picture he had just taken as his lockscreen.

Instead of the picture of him and your sister in the mirror holding hands. All you see is the glops of white semen splattered all underneath your sister's bed and his still hard cock buried deep in your white slick hole.

He throws his phone somewhere onto his girlfriend’s bed before lifting your hips up from their laid position and raising them into the air—not once did he detach himself from your core. He pressed your face down to the mattress and you didn’t resist once—letting him do as he pleased.

“What the fuck” Your words muffled as you stare at him with shaky eyes over your shoulder but he only smiles widely and brings a finger to his mouth as if to keep you quiet

“This’ll be our dirty little secret”

——

special tag for @pinkjellyz @tyunningism @faeyun @yvampyr

[vampjaeyun]

ROCKET SCIENCE PSH

SYNOPSIS ⦂ 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.

PAIRINGS: nerdy!sunghoon x cam girl!reader, kinda heeseung x reader

WARNINGS: smut mdni, fwb w/ heeseung, college parties, oral (m. rec), ass eating, tit!job, subby & dom sunghoon, dom!reader, piv, virginity loss, corruption kink, choking, spanking, use of sex toys, so many smut scenes like i really go all out, pervert sunghoon a bit?, 1 sex scene with heeseung, freaky roleplay sex (professor/student), mutual masturbation, masturbation in general, filming during sex/sexual acts, heeseung is an asshole, angst, etc. - yes rocket science is spelled wrong in the cover….im so dumb but i cannot change it so…

WORD COUNT: 33K

RAIN'S MIC IS ON ࿐ this is a little bit different then what i usually write but lately i've been working on my smut and feel finally more comfortable with writing more smut based fics. i'm so excited for this one and i hope you guys enjoy it!! there is def a need for more subby sunghoon on enhablr so i hope i can help provide (:

Saturday nights are supposed to be loud, dorm parties spilling into the hallways, someone blasting music three floors down, laughter leaking through thin walls. Yours, however, is a bubble of silence. The kind that hums in your ears, that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound, the faint whir of your laptop’s fan, the occasional creak in the pipes, the slow tick of the clock above your desk.

 You’ve been hunched here for hours, neck stiff, highlighter caps scattered like casualties across your notes. Your eyes ache from the constant flicker of the screen, from lines of text that blur together if you stare too long. You stretch, spine arching until it pops, and let your head tip back to stare at the ceiling. It’s late, past midnight, though the night outside feels older somehow, the air outside your window still and heavy. You should be tired. Instead, you’re restless, your skin prickling with an energy that has nothing to do with stress or caffeine. It’s a quiet ache that’s been prowling at the edges of your focus all night, creeping in whenever you pause too long between flashcards. Sexual frustration. Need.  

You try to ignore it, tapping the end of your pen against the desk, but your gaze drifts, to your phone, sitting just within reach. Your fingers close around it before you can talk yourself out of it, and muscle memory takes over. One swipe, two taps, and you’re staring at the name you always reach for when you feel like this. When you need a quick orgasm to get you through the night and into the next day. 

You - 

You free? 

You hit send before you can second-guess it, thumb lingering on the glass for a moment like you might will the response into appearing faster. In the meantime, you push away from the desk, the chair squealing faintly on the floor. Your body feels coiled, impatient, and you catch yourself glancing toward the bathroom door. The impulse blooms too fast to smother. You snag your phone and pad across the room, pushing the bathroom door open with your hip. The overhead light floods the small space in soft gold, bouncing off the mirror, warming your bare skin where your pajama shorts leave your thighs exposed. 

You pause in front of the sink, catching your own reflection, hair messy from hours of studying, lips parted like your body already knows what it’s about to ask for. Slowly, you hook your thumbs into the hem of your oversized t-shirt and lift it over your head, the fabric skimming up your skin before you drop it to the floor. 

The cool air hits you, making your nipples pebble instantly, and you glance at yourself again, tilting your chin, angling your body. The phone feels heavier in your hand as you swipe open the camera. You’ve done this before, you know how to play with shadows, how to let the curve of your waist or the arch of your back do half the talking. The first photo is teasing, just the slope of your collarbone and the swell of your breasts. The second is less subtle, fingers trailing down your stomach, thumb hooked dangerously low. The last is the filthiest, a bold, brazen shot that makes heat flare in your cheeks even though you’ve taken dozens like it before.

You send the best of the batch, screen going black for a beat as you lower your arm. By the time you’re sliding your underwear down your thighs, the phone buzzes.

Heeseung - 

God, you’re killing me. 

Another buzz follows instantly. 

I really, really, really wish I could come over right now. 

You lean against the counter, already smiling to yourself, thumbs moving fast. 

You - 

Then do it. 

The typing dots flicker, disappear, flicker again. 

Heeseung - 

I can’t. The guys are over — movie night. 

Your smile falters. Of course, this was just your luck. 

You - 

Lame excuse. Don’t you want to cum tonight? ;) 

Heeseung -

Fuck. of course i would. I’d much rather be with you tonight. 

You groan, head tipping back against the mirror, hair catching slightly against the glass. Still hot, still bothered and very much in need of some attention. 

You - 

Then ditch them. 

You watch the dots appear, vanish. And then, instead of words, your phone lights up with a photo, dim lighting, familiar grey sweats tugged just low enough to make your breath catch. The outline beneath the fabric is thick and shameless, and you know he sent it just to make you squirm. The caption is a single winking emoji. God damnit, he sent a dick pic, a fucking dick pic when you’re feeling like this? And he can’t even bother to help you. 

Heeseung - 

Have fun flying solo tonight.

 A hot rush floods you, equal parts frustration and want. You toss the phone onto the counter, the image still seared into your vision. The quiet of your dorm suddenly feels too loud, your pulse loudest of all. You don’t want to be flying solo tonight. You want him, his weight pinning you down, his hands framing your hips, the low sound he makes when you pull at his hair. Instead, you’re left in this restless sprawl of heat, skin too hot and breath uneven. You push away from the counter, padding barefoot back into your room. 

The bed welcomes you with its cool sheets, but it’s no comfort. You flop onto your back, staring at the ceiling, trying to will the ache out of your body. You fail spectacularly. The stillness of your room doesn’t last long. You’re sprawled there on your back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of your own frustration pressing down on you, when the thought strikes, if you’re going to take the edge off, you might as well make it worth your while. The idea blooms in your chest like a spark catching, that low, familiar thrill warming you from the inside out. 

You slide out of bed, padding over to your dresser. The top drawer is a mess of lace and silk, a curated little collection of gifts and indulgences, each one carrying a memory or a name in the back of your mind. Your fingers trail over them until you land on the one you’ve been saving,  a delicate pink lingerie set, almost sheer, with tiny satin bows where the straps meet the cups. One of your most loyal subscribers had sent it to you weeks ago, along with a note you’d read too many times to admit. The mirror catches you as you slip it on, the way the soft pink pops against your skin, the way the fabric hugs your curves just enough to make you smirk at your own reflection. You tug the straps into place, smooth your hands down your sides, and feel that quiet confidence settle over you like armor. 

Your toys are tucked away neatly in a box beneath your bed, the kind of organization that only comes from needing to grab them quickly. You set them on the nightstand, your favorites, familiar in your hands, before pulling your tripod closer. The camera’s red standby light blinks up at you as you adjust the angle, making sure it cuts off at your collarbones. No face, no name, nothing to give away the girl behind the show. Just soft lighting, lingerie, and a body they’ve been paying to worship. You perch at the edge of your bed, the camera focused on you, and hit Go Live. 

The chat box starts slow, a few greetings from usernames you know by heart, a handful of new ones testing the waters. You lower your voice into that honeyed register you’ve perfected, the one that makes people lean closer to their screens. "Hey, boys… and girls," you purr, letting the words slide out lazily. "You’re late tonight. I was starting without you." Comments flood in, requests and compliments scrolling too fast to read them all. You let your hand trail down your thigh, just a ghost of a touch, and hum softly. You’re in no rush. The teasing is part of the game, light pressure, nothing more, letting anticipation build while the viewer count ticks upward.

Then it comes, the sound that always makes your pulse jump. ParkShoon has tipped $100.

Your most loyal subscriber. Always early, always generous. And always making requests that push just enough without stepping over your lines. You smile without meaning to, leaning closer to the mic. "Mmm… thank you, Shoon," you murmur, your tone thick with suggestion. "What should I do for you tonight?"

The chat pauses for a beat, like everyone’s waiting for him. Then his reply appears. 

ParkShoon: Turn it on. You know which one. Your gaze flicks to the toy on the nightstand, your favorite. Sleek, familiar, the one that never fails you. You pick it up, letting the camera catch just enough of the motion without revealing too much.

"You always know what you want, don’t you?" you tease, thumb hovering over the button. The vibration hums to life in your hand, and you draw in a slow breath, the sound slipping out just for them.

ParkShoon: More pressure.

You bite your lip, shifting so the camera catches the curve of your thigh, the slow press of the toy exactly where he’s asked for it. The hum deepens in the quiet of your room, mingling with the low, involuntary sounds you let slip. The comments explode, some begging for the same, others just sending strings of dollar signs and heart emojis. "Just for you, Shoon," you whisper, applying more pressure, your back arching slightly as you obey. The heat is immediate, coiling low in your stomach, and you let your head tip back, eyes fluttering shut. 

The requests come faster now, not just from him, but from everyone, and you ride the line carefully, keeping the pace slow but the tension thick. Every move is deliberate, every sound calculated to keep them wanting, keep them tipping. Shoon’s next message makes your pulse stutter. ParkShoon: Don’t stop. I want to hear you lose it.

You glance at the camera, your lips curling in a slow, knowing smile, the kind that promises you just might. Your fingers curl around the toy, the vibration buzzing through your palm, steady and insistent. You settle back on the bed, letting your knees fall open, the camera catching the angle you’ve set up a hundred times before, your legs, your hips, the delicate lace of the lingerie clinging to damp skin. "Mmm…" You draw the sound out, low and velvety, dragging the toy over the lace, teasing yourself as much as them. "Shoon, you always make me start too fast… you’re so impatient tonight."

The chat lights up, don’t make him wait, give us more, fuck, you’re gorgeous. You laugh softly, a breathy little sound, and angle the toy lower, pressing it more firmly against yourself. The lace muffles the sensation at first, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. ParkShoon: Lose the panties.

"Just like that? No please?" you murmur, voice dripping with mock scolding. You hook your thumbs into the waistband, tugging them slowly down your thighs, letting the camera catch every inch of bare skin. The air is cool where the fabric was, and it makes you shiver. You toss them aside with a flick of your wrist. "Better?" The tip notification pings again; another $150.

"Mmm… that’s what I thought." You touch yourself lightly at first, the toy tracing lazy circles that make your hips twitch. Your free hand slips down to part yourself, opening up for the camera as your breath turns uneven. You keep your voice low, like you’re whispering secrets meant only for the ones watching. "God, you don’t even know what you do to me, Shoon…" you breathe, pressing the toy harder now, the vibrations sending jolts up your spine. "If you were here right now, I’d let you touch me… maybe even taste me. But since you’re not—" your words break on a gasp as you push the toy against your clit, "—you’re just going to have to watch."

The comments scroll so fast you can barely see them, a flood of begging, praise, and crude promises. Shoon’s username stays anchored at the top, his tips pushing him there.

ParkShoon: More. I want to see you fall apart. You bite your lip, grinding against the toy, your thighs trembling as you chase the edge without letting yourself fall. The pressure is maddening, every nerve lit up, your pulse pounding in your ears. 

"You want me to come for you, Shoon? Right here? In front of all of them?" Your voice has gone breathless, ragged in a way you can’t fake. 

ParkShoon: Yes. Now. "Mmm… bossy." You laugh softly, but it’s cut off by another gasp as you push yourself harder, faster, the sound of the toy filling the quiet between your moans. Your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut, the muscles in your stomach tightening as you edge closer.

"God, I wish you could feel this…" you pant, every word a struggle to get out. "The way I’m dripping… how wet you make me…" The tips come in a frenzy now, the sound of them stacking over and over, each one a tiny push toward the point of no return. You’re right there, the tension wound so tight it’s almost painful, And then you gasp his name. "Shoon—"

The chat goes wild, but you’re barely aware of it. The pleasure crashes over you, shaking your body as you ride it out, grinding through the aftershocks, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. You collapse back onto the bed, toy slipping from your fingers, chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment, all you can hear is your own breathing and the faint hum still coming from the toy beside you. 

"God… you’re so bad for me," you whisper, your lips curling into a lazy, satisfied smile as you glance toward the camera. "But you’re my favorite." The stream’s chat is still exploding, hearts and tips rolling in even as you hover your finger over the End Live button. You sign off with one last soft, "Goodnight, boys…" before the feed cuts to black.

The campus is alive with its usual morning chaos, students rushing past with coffee cups in hand, the air smelling faintly of espresso and wet pavement from last night’s rain. You’ve got your headphones in, head down, mind already half on the lecture you’re walking toward, when a sudden arm snakes around your waist. You jolt hard enough to stumble. "Jesus—" you start, tugging an earbud out, but then you catch the familiar smirk in your peripheral and your irritation fades into something else entirely. 

It’s Heeseung, of course. "Relax, princess," he murmurs, his voice low enough that it’s just for you. He’s grinning, that lazy, infuriating grin that’s all sharp edges and charm. His roommate, tall, quiet, and vaguely familiar, is trailing a step behind him. You squint, brain shuffling through names. Sanghan? Sangh… oh, right. Sunghoon.

"You trying to give me a heart attack?" you mutter, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as the three of you fall into step. "Nah." His gaze flicks briefly to the walkway ahead, then back to you, and when he leans in this time, his voice drops even further, warm breath brushing your ear. "Just wanted to tell you… I loved how you looked last night. In those photos."

Your mouth curves before you can stop it, heat flickering in your chest at the memory. "Of course you did." You angle him a sideways look, letting your tone drip with mock arrogance. "I aim to please."

He chuckles, deep and low, eyes glinting like he’s replaying those same images in his head. "You more than please, sweetheart." You glance ahead, catching Sunghoon’s profile for a split second. He’s looking anywhere but at you, shoulders tense, expression unreadable. 

"You’re awfully confident for someone who left me high and dry," you murmur, not letting him off the hook entirely.

Heeseung’s grin turns wolfish. "You were fine without me." He pauses, his hand still resting at your waist, thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your shirt. "But… I could make it up to you tonight. My place. Little Netflix, little chill."

You laugh, tilting your head so your hair brushes his arm. "You mean that thing where we put on a movie neither of us watches and I end up riding you on your couch until your neighbors complain?"

"Exactly that thing."

"Tempting."

"Tempting enough to say yes?"

You let the silence stretch just long enough to make him raise an eyebrow. Then you smile, slow, sly, the kind of smile that’s an answer in itself. "Text me the time." Heeseung smirks, satisfied, and drops his hand as the entrance to your building comes into view. Through all of this, Sunghoon hasn’t said a word. He’s kept pace a few steps behind, quiet as a shadow, gaze fixed somewhere near the ground. When you glance back as you reach the doorway, his eyes flick up, just for a heartbeat, before he looks away again. The moment is nothing. And yet, you can’t quite shake it as you step into class.

You spend longer than usual getting ready, maybe because you’ve been thinking about this all day, or maybe because it’s been almost two weeks since you last felt him pressed against you, and that kind of absence can make a girl desperate. The razor glides over your skin in slow, deliberate strokes, leaving your legs impossibly smooth; you linger at the curves of your calves, at the line of your thighs, because you know he’ll notice. In your dresser drawer, you dig past the sensible cotton and lace bralettes to pull out the lingerie you reserve for nights when you want to see that look in his eyes, the one that makes him tilt his head just slightly before his mouth curves in something almost like hunger. It’s black, silky, barely there, the kind of thing that doesn’t stay on for long. 

You spritz perfume along your neck and wrists, knowing exactly how it will rise in the heat between you later. The final check in the mirror has you biting back a smirk; yeah, you look good. Dangerous. Like trouble wrapped in soft skin. The walk to his apartment feels longer than usual, your heart beating harder with every step. By the time you knock, you’re already picturing the way his hands will find your waist, the weight of him between your thighs. The door swings open almost instantly, as if he’d been standing there waiting for you, and there he is, Heeseung, tall and lazy-smiled, leaning against the doorframe in a t-shirt that hangs a little too loose, hair slightly messy in the way that makes you want to ruin him more. 

“You made it,” he says, voice low, warm.

“You sound surprised,” you reply, stepping past him into the faintly lit space.

“Not surprised,” he murmurs, shutting the door behind you. “Just happy.” The apartment is quiet except for the low hum of the TV from the living room. A bowl of popcorn sits on the coffee table, untouched, already forgotten in favor of something far more interesting. The couch is familiar territory; you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve ended up tangled there, breathless and flushed.

You glance toward the closed hallway doors. “You’re here alone?”

Heeseung shakes his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Sunghoon’s here. But don’t worry, told him you were coming over.”

You arch a brow. “And?”

“And,” he drawls, stepping closer until you have to tilt your chin to keep his gaze, “he’s in his room, headphones on, sworn to stay there all night. Not a problem.”

You laugh under your breath, brushing past him toward the couch. “You make it sound like we’re doing something scandalous.”

He grins at that, sharp and knowing before dropping down beside you. “We are.” There’s a pause where neither of you looks at the TV. The screen flickers, casting soft shadows over his face, and you feel his gaze like a touch before his hand even moves.

“You missed me,” he says suddenly, like it’s a fact and not a question.

You turn your head, meeting his eyes. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, leaning in just enough that you can smell the faint clean scent of his soap. “And right.” You smirk, letting your fingertips trace the seam of the couch between you. “Maybe I did. Or maybe I was just bored.”

His laugh is quiet, low in his chest, the kind that makes your pulse stutter. “If you were bored, you wouldn’t be wearing that.” His gaze flicks downward for just a moment, enough for heat to coil low in your stomach.

“And what am I wearing?” you tease, feigning innocence.

“Trouble,” he says, his voice dipping deeper. “The kind I can’t stop thinking about.” There’s something dangerous in the way he’s looking at you now, intent, focused, like the rest of the world has slipped out of existence. His fingers brush your thigh lightly, almost experimentally, and you feel the electricity jump between you like it’s been waiting these last two weeks to spark.

“You really plan on watching Netflix?” you ask, tilting your head.

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “I plan on having you right here before the opening credits finish.”

It’s late, the kind of late where the world outside feels like it doesn’t exist, swallowed whole by the quiet hum of a campus asleep. The only light in the room is the dim golden spill from the lamp on the side table, painting warm shadows over Heeseung’s skin. He’s on the couch, legs spread just enough to beckon you closer, head tilted back against the cushion like he’s been waiting all night for you to climb into his lap. You straddle him without hesitation, your knees pressing into the cushion on either side of his hips, your palms braced against his chest. His hands slide up your thighs like he’s mapping familiar territory, thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles into your skin as if to remind you exactly who you belong to in this moment.

"Been driving me crazy all night, you know that?" His voice is low, a slow drag of heat that sends a shiver straight through you. "You show up dressed like this, smelling like that—" his grip tightens suddenly, forcing you to feel the twitch of his body beneath you, "—and you expect me to take my time?"

You smirk, leaning in close enough that your lips graze his jaw. "Didn’t think you had any patience left to take your time."

A sharp scoff leaves him, but his hands are already pulling you closer, his control hanging by a thread. "Patience isn’t the problem. It’s restraint. And you’re making it real hard to keep any of it."

When he finally pulls you down to kiss him, it’s with a hunger that steals your breath. His mouth moves against yours with a heat that feels like it’s been building for weeks, tongues tangling, teeth grazing, and every movement screams of the tension from those long fourteen days without him. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly, and the groan he lets out is deep enough to curl in your stomach. His hips lift just enough to grind into you, drawing a gasp from your lips that makes him smirk against your mouth. "That’s it," he murmurs, the command curling in the air between you. "Be loud. Don’t hold back for me." 

You don’t need telling twice. Every thrust up into you pulls another sound from your throat, higher, rawer, until you’re clutching at his shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. He leans back slightly just to watch you, eyes dark and locked on every twitch and arch of your body. "Look at you… falling apart on me," he breathes, almost reverent but still tinged with authority. "You missed me, huh?" His hands find your waist, circling up to cup at your breasts. 

Your breathless laugh is broken with a moan. "Maybe a little."

He grins, slow and wicked. "Say it."

"I missed you." The words spill out without hesitation, the truth burning through your veins.

"Yeah, you did." His voice is smug, but the way his hands grip your hips tells you he’s just as desperate, dragging you over him harder, faster, until your sounds fill the quiet apartment and you forget there’s even a thin wall between you and Sunghoon’s room. You don’t care, and clearly, neither does Heeseung.

When it finally ends, you’re both wrecked — your chest heaving, his hands still gripping you like he doesn’t want to let go. The room smells like sweat and your perfume, your legs trembling so badly that he has to steady you as you climb off him. You glance at the clock and blink in disbelief.

"It’s almost two in the morning," you murmur, still catching your breath.

Heeseung just smirks, leaning back with a lazy satisfaction. "Guess time flies when you’re getting exactly what you’ve been begging for."

"Begging?" you shoot back, raising an eyebrow.

He stands, helping you to your feet with one firm pull, his hands still lingering at your waist. "Don’t pretend you weren’t." You roll your eyes but can’t hide the flush in your cheeks. Heeseung disappears into the bathroom and returns with a warm towel, cleaning you up with surprising gentleness that contrasts the heat from minutes ago. "Stay," he says finally, tossing the towel into the laundry basket.

Your body is still humming, every muscle loose and warm, so the offer is tempting. "I’ll crash on the couch," you reply, trying to sound firm even though your voice is soft.

He gives you a look, half amused, half annoyed. "Bed’s more comfortable."

"That wasn’t part of the rules," you remind him, a little too quickly. For a second, he looks like he might argue, but then he just shakes his head with a smirk. "Fine. Couch it is." He tosses you a blanket and a pillow, watching you curl up. "Don’t complain if you wake up with a sore back, princess."

"Goodnight, Heeseung," you say, pulling the blanket over you.

"Goodnight." His voice is low, lingering in the doorway longer than he needs to before finally turning away, and you can’t help but think he’s already plotting ways to make you break those rules next time.

The couch was lumpy. Too short. Too hot. And no matter how many times you flipped your pillow over, it never cooled enough to soothe the restless ache in your body. Heeseung had been right, his bed was probably a cloud compared to this, all plush sheets and deep warmth, but you weren’t about to break the one boundary you’d drawn in permanent ink. Rules were rules, and you weren’t ready to blur that line. Still… God, it was warm. Sweat gathered in the hollow of your neck, the blanket tangled somewhere around your thighs. Eventually, the air felt too thick to breathe. You shoved it all off, swung your legs to the floor, and padded toward the kitchen, your bare feet whispering against the hardwood.

The apartment was quiet, shadow-heavy except for the weak orange glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. You filled a glass at the sink, the hum of the fridge filling the silence, cool water slipping over your tongue. You were halfway through your second gulp when you heard it. Faint at first. A muffled, rhythmic sound, You stood frozen, unable to move. There was no mistaking it, not for you. The breathless moans. The tiny choked gasps between words. That was your voice.

But not the casual, everyday kind. Not the voice you used to say “pass the salt” or “thanks for the ride.” This was the other one, the one dipped in honey and sin, the one you reserved for the camera when the lights were dim, the tip jar was filling fast, and you were pushing your viewers exactly where they wanted to go. And it wasn’t coming from Heeseung’s room. The sound, low but steady, was drifting from down the hall. From his roommate’s door.

Your fingers tightened around the glass, so hard you were afraid it might shatter. Heat rushed to your cheeks, crawling up your neck until your whole face burned. No way. No fucking way. But your body was moving before your brain could stop it. Quiet steps. A slow lean toward the slightly ajar door. You pressed your palm against the wood and nudged it open by the smallest inch. The first thing you saw was the light.

It spilled in a harsh square from his laptop screen, painting Sunghoon’s face in pale blue. He was slouched in his desk chair, knees spread, one hand gripping the armrest hard enough to whiten his knuckles, the other — Oh god. He was stroking himself slow and tight, his chest rising and falling in uneven pulls, eyes locked on the video playing in front of him. Your video. You knew it instantly, the lacy set you wore that night, the angle you shot from, the way your lips parted around the mic when you’d whispered something filthy you couldn’t even remember word for word now because your brain was short-circuiting.

then you saw it. The username in the corner of the screen. Bold white letters over black. PARKSHOON. You almost choked. Holy shit. Shoon. The most consistent subscriber you had. The one who tipped every stream, who always sent private messages dripping with praise and filthy little requests. The one who somehow knew exactly how to ask for things in a way that made you want to give them. It had been Sunghoon all along. 

His head snapped over his shoulder so fast it startled you, his black hair falling into his eyes as his hand froze mid-stroke. His mouth parted, chest still heaving, pupils blown so wide they swallowed the brown. 

“W–what are you doing here?” he stammered, voice pitching higher than you’d ever heard it. His eyes were huge, frantic behind his glasses, darting between you and the glowing screen as if reality might suddenly glitch and save him from this moment. He looked like a deer caught under a spotlight, except the spotlight was the warm, humiliating glow of his monitor, still playing the sound of your breathless moans. For a second, all you could do was stare. Your brain felt like it was trying to reboot after a system crash. Then, without thinking, without even wanting to stop yourself you said it.

“You’re… parkshoon?” The name slipped out like it had been waiting at the back of your throat for months. His brows knitted together in confusion, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that the veil was gone, that your most closely guarded secret was now sitting in the middle of his cluttered bedroom like a live grenade. The only thing you cared about was that he, the quiet, awkward guy you’d barely spoken to in groups and yet somehow kept running into, the one you’d pegged as harmless, was the same guy who paid you to get off almost every night. And worse, he’d just been caught in the act.

He blinked at you, still unsure if he’d heard you right. “I—what?”

Your lips curled into a half-smirk. “Don’t play dumb. You’re my top subscriber.” The words seemed to detonate inside him. His eyes went wider still, darting back to the monitor, the live playback on the screen confirming every horrible suspicion for him. He spun back toward you like you’d just kicked his chair, muttering in rapid succession, “No, no, no, no, no—” His hands scrambled for the laptop, slamming the lid shut so fast the sound cut off mid-sigh.

“No way,” he breathed, almost to himself. He sounded winded, like the air had been punched out of him. For reasons you couldn’t name, watching him trip over himself like this, flustered, pink-faced, unable to string a sentence together, was adorable. You tilted your head, letting the silence stretch between you just enough to make him squirm, before saying, lightly, “Relax. It’s okay.”

The sly lilt in your voice made his blush deepen, his ears visibly burning under the soft fall of his hair. “O-okay?” he echoed, voice cracking on the last syllable. 

“Mhm.” You took a step closer, your smile barely-there but deliberate. “Did you have any idea it was me?”

He shook his head so fast it was almost comical. “N-no! I swear, I didn’t, I mean, you don’t even, uh, show your face so how could I—”

You cut in, voice low. “Did you listen to me and Heeseung earlier?” That stopped him cold. His mouth opened, closed. He looked down, his entire posture shrinking as if the carpet might swallow him whole. He didn’t need to say anything; that tiny dip of his head was enough. A laugh escaped you, soft, amused. “So you did.” 

“I—” His voice was barely above a whisper now. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I think it’s cute,” you said simply, and you meant it. The way his breath hitched when you moved closer, the way his hands clenched into nervous fists at his sides, it was all… sweet, in a way. Sweet and a little intoxicating. Your finger traced down the center of his chest, slow and deliberate. His entire body went rigid, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard when you pushed your cleavage together and caught him staring. He swallowed, audibly.

Somehow, through a mix of teasing words and the heat lingering in the room, you found yourself making a different kind of offer. “You know… if you want, I could teach you.”

His eyes snapped up to yours. “Teach me…?”

“How to please a girl,” you clarified, letting the phrase hang in the air. “Since you’re so cute.”

The poor boy looked like you’d just suggested robbing a bank together. “A-are you serious?”

You smiled, slow and deliberate. “Dead serious. I love being charitable.”

His gaze flickered, suspicion creeping in through the haze of fluster. “What’s in it for you?”

You pretended to think about it, then said smoothly, “If you’re comfortable… you could be in a few videos with me.” If his eyes got any wider, they’d fall right out of his head. You explained, still keeping your voice calm, casual, that you’d been getting constant requests for someone to join you, but anonymity was non-negotiable. With him, though, it could work. No face, no identity. Just a body. It took him a moment, but finally, he nodded, still looking like he wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or thrilled. And just like that, without meaning to, you’d struck an agreement.

You had been turning the words over in your head for days, softening them, reshaping them, tossing them out entirely only to rebuild them again. Every attempt sounded either too harsh or too cowardly, too blunt or too hesitant. There was no elegant way to do this, no version that didn’t carry the risk of breaking something you couldn’t glue back together. The agreement with Sunghoon had felt like a spark in the dark, a dangerous, thrilling thing but it also came with the knowledge that you’d have to close one door before you could even think about walking through another.

When you and Heeseung had first fallen into your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you’d both agreed on the rules. No sleeping with anyone else without saying so first. No lying about it. No messy overlap. It had seemed simple at the time, almost easy, until now, when you were standing outside his apartment door, staring at the brass numbers like they might rearrange themselves into a reason to leave. You weren’t even going to tell him about Sunghoon. That part of your life, your cam work, the private messages, the quiet, electrified conversations, was a world Heeseung didn’t know existed. Only Sunghoon knew, and you intended to keep it that way. You took a breath you didn’t feel like you got to finish before you knocked. The sound echoed too loud in your own ears, and for a fleeting second you imagined him not being home, imagined yourself walking away, postponing the inevitable for just one more day. But the door opened before you could entertain the thought further, and there he was, smiling. A real, wide grin that made his eyes crinkle just slightly.

“Hey,” he said, voice warm, almost teasing. “Didn’t think I’d see you today.” The unexpected cheer in his tone made your stomach twist. You didn’t have romantic feelings for him, never had, but you’d liked him. More than liked him, even. He was fun, easy to be around when things weren’t complicated, and he knew how to make you feel good in ways that weren’t easily replaced. But all good things ended eventually, and this one… well, this one was about to. 

“Hey,” you murmured, trying to keep your own tone light. “I, uh… I need to talk to you about something.”

His grin faded into curiosity, head tilting slightly. “Okay… come in.” You stepped past him into the apartment, the familiar scent of him, clean laundry and something faintly spiced, curling into the air between you. He closed the door behind you, the sound sharper than it should have been, and leaned against the frame, waiting. 

“So,” you began, words sticking to the roof of your mouth, “I’m… planning on sleeping with someone else.”

His expression froze. “What?” You shifted, glancing away for a beat. “You remember our agreement,” you reminded him, voice quieter now. “If we’re going to start something like that with someone else, someone we plan on… continuing with, we’d stop this. That’s… where I’m at.” 

Heeseung let out a short, humorless laugh, though there was no actual amusement behind it. “Who?”

“It’s none of your business,” you said, more firmly than you expected.

He scoffed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. “Right. Whatever. Thanks for the heads-up, I guess.”

“I didn’t want to just disappear,” you replied softly. “I thought… I owed you a proper conversation.”

“Great,” he muttered, pushing off the doorframe. “Conversation’s over. I’m heading out, so—” He gestured vaguely toward the door.

You hesitated, lingering. “Can we still be friends?” That was when he laughed. Not the good kind of laugh, either, the one that felt shared and familiar. This one was sharp, almost cutting, like you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. You knit your brows together. “What’s so funny?”

He looked at you like you’d missed something obvious. “You seriously think I want to be friends with you?”

The words landed heavier than you thought they would. “I—yeah, I did. I thought—”

“Don’t overcomplicate it,” he interrupted flatly. “You were just a way for me to get good pussy. That’s all.”

Something inside you went cold. Your hurt flared into anger before you could stop it. “Go fuck yourself, Heeseung.” He only shrugged, unbothered, and that indifference made it worse somehow. You turned sharply on your heel, storming out and letting his door slam behind you. The hallway felt longer than usual as you walked away, your chest tight, your hands trembling with everything you wished you’d said, and everything you never wanted to say to him again. 

The apartment felt different tonight. Not in any visible way, your walls were the same warm beige, the faint hum of the fridge still an ambient companion, but in the way your skin prickled with restless electricity. You’d been pacing for the past half hour, a looping circuit from your bedroom to the kitchen, sipping water you didn’t even want, glancing at the clock as though it might move faster under your scrutiny. Heeseung’s words still clung to you, bitter as old smoke, replaying in jagged flashes: You were just a way for me to get good pussy. You’d brushed it off earlier with the practiced ease of someone who knew how to build walls on demand, but now, alone in the dim stillness, the crack in your chest throbbed faintly. 

But this wasn’t the time to nurse bruised feelings. Sunghoon was on his way, and this was business, or at least, that’s what you told yourself. It didn’t matter that there was a flicker of something sharp and curious about him, something that made your breath hitch in ways you didn’t care to examine. You’d made an agreement, and tonight was your first session with him. You had to get your head in the game. You started with the shower, the hiss of hot water drowning out every thought. Steam curled around you, carrying the faint scent of your jasmine body wash. You dragged the razor slowly along your legs, each smooth pass another piece of armor you slipped on. By the time you stepped out, your skin was warm, pink, and smelling faintly of flowers. In the mirror, you lingered just a second too long, studying the way water clung to your collarbone before tracing down between your breasts. You told yourself it was about preparation, about looking your best for the camera, and for Sunghoon.

Your lingerie drawer was a riot of colors and textures, but tonight you reached for black lace, the kind that framed more than it covered. The straps slid over your shoulders like whispers, the matching panties hugging you just right. You layered it with a silk robe, crimson and soft, the hem grazing the top of your thighs. The robe’s sash hung loose, easy enough to pull free with one deliberate tug. Then came the tools of your trade. You knelt by the bed, fingers skimming the edge of your toy drawer before curling around the familiar shapes inside. You pulled out a few favorites, sleek, polished, humming with potential. You laid them on the nightstand like instruments waiting for a performance, the anticipation coiling tighter in your belly.

The candle was last. You struck the match, the sharp scent of sulfur giving way to the warm, sweet drift of vanilla as the wick caught flame. Its glow painted the room in molten gold, shadows stretching long and intimate across the walls. You sat back for a moment, just breathing it in, the heat, the scent, the faint tremor of nerves under your skin. And then, the knock.

Three firm raps against the door. Your lips curved before you even realized it, an instinctive smile tugging at the edges of your mouth. Not because you’d forgotten Heeseung’s words, those would linger for a while yet, but because Sunghoon was here, and with him came the promise of something different. Something sharp and deliberate, like a lesson you hadn’t realized you needed to learn. You rose, your silk robe swaying around your thighs as you padded toward the door. Your hand curled around the knob, pulse quickening, not with nerves, but with anticipation. Because whatever else tonight might bring, one thing was certain: the real game was just about to begin.

Sunghoon stands in the hallway like he’s been caught somewhere he doesn’t belong, cheeks tinted pink, hair slightly mussed, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, and when his eyes meet yours, they dart away just as quickly. It’s almost sweet. Almost. “Hi,” you greet, letting your voice drip with warmth, with a faint tease, the kind that makes him swallow hard.

He glances at you, then at the floor. “Hey.”

“Come in,” you murmur, stepping back. His gaze flickers over you for a brief, stolen second, catching on the way the robe clings to your waist before he obediently slips past you. Once inside, he stands near the edge of your living room like a guest in a stranger’s home, not quite sure where to put himself. You notice the way his fingers twitch against his thigh, restless.

“Thirsty?” you ask, walking toward the kitchen.

He hesitates, then nods. “Uh… water would be good.”

You pour him a glass, take your time with it, then return and hand it to him. His fingers brush yours, barely, and even that contact seems to fluster him, the glass trembling faintly as he takes a sip. You let him drink, then settle yourself on the arm of the couch, crossing your legs so your robe parts just enough to keep him distracted. “Before we start,” you begin, watching his Adam’s apple bob, “we need to talk rules.”

“Right,” he says quickly, wiping his palms against his jeans. The nervous habit only makes you smile.

“First thing,” you say slowly, “I’m clean. Tested. I’m also on birth control. Which means when we eventually fuck—” You let the word hang in the air, heavy and deliberate, watching how it makes him blink, how his fingers tighten around the glass. “—you won’t need a condom. Unless, of course, you want one.”

His ears burn pink. He shakes his head quickly. “No, I… I trust you.”

“Good.” You lean back slightly, studying him. “Are you a virgin, Sunghoon?”

He hesitates for just a beat before admitting, “Yeah.”

A slow smile spreads across your face. “Have you ever done anything at all with a girl?”

He shakes his head, almost sheepish. “No.”

“That’s cute,” you say softly, letting the word curl like smoke between you. You watch him shift, as though unsure whether to be embarrassed or pleased. That’s the fun part, you want him right on the edge, unsure if he’s prey or something else entirely. “One more rule,” you say, your tone turning sharper. “You don’t tell anyone about this arrangement. Not your friends. Not your family. And definitely not Heeseung.”

He meets your eyes this time, nodding firmly. “I won’t. I promise.” You study him for a moment longer, then your expression softens, head tilting slightly. A teasing smile curves your mouth.

“Well,” you murmur, your voice low, inviting. “Let’s get started, shall we?” 

Your fingers slip through his, warm and a little clammy, the faint tremor in his grip betraying nerves he probably thought he’d hidden. “Come on,” you murmur, tugging him gently to his feet. Sunghoon stumbles a little in the process, whether from surprise or from the simple fact that your robe is gaping enough to tease at the curve of your chest, you can’t be sure, and you guide him down the short hallway toward your bedroom. His head is tilted, his eyes darting between the floor and your back, like he’s trying not to look but can’t help stealing glances.

You push the door open and lead him inside. “First lesson,” you announce, letting his hand go so you can turn toward him, “is how to properly please a girl.” Your tone is easy, but it’s deliberate too, like you want the weight of the words to settle over him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose. You gesture toward the chair by the wall. “Sit.” He obeys immediately, perching on the edge like a student about to take the most important exam of his life. You don’t sit beside him. Instead, you step back toward your bed, the silky hem of your robe brushing the tops of your thighs as you climb onto the mattress and turn to face him. “Tonight,” you say, settling back on your hands, “you’re just going to watch.”

His brow furrows. “I mean… I do that a lot. When I watch your videos.” His voice is quieter than before, like he’s almost embarrassed to admit it, his ears pink against the dark strands of his hair.

You shake your head slowly, the faintest smirk tugging at your lips. “Not the same. This time, I’m telling you exactly what to do… and exactly how to do it.”

Something in his expression changes then, a mix of curiosity and tension, his gaze sharpening, his breath evening out into something heavier. You can see the way his knees shift, restless, as if anchoring himself to the seat will keep him from leaning in too far. Your hands find your own body, fingertips tracing a languid path over your stomach, brushing the curve of your hip. “Foreplay,” you begin, your voice deliberate, every syllable pronounced like you want it etched into his mind, “isn’t just something you rush through to get to the good part. It’s what makes the good part… better.” You let your fingers trail lower, just enough for him to notice the subtle shift in your posture, your legs parting slightly as you sink deeper into the mattress. 

Sunghoon’s breathing changes again, a sharp inhale he tries to disguise. You glance at him, noting how his glasses are starting to fog along the edges, how his grip tightens against his own thighs like he needs to hold himself still. “You watch for cues,” you continue, your fingertips now brushing the inside of your thigh. “Her breathing changes. Her body shifts toward you. She wants more, but she’s not ready for everything yet. You give her time to get there.” The silky knot at your waist loosens with a casual flick of your fingers, and your robe falls open. You let it slip off your shoulders, the fabric whispering against your skin as it slides to the bed. You watch his reaction closely, his eyes widen, his lips part, and he freezes like he’s afraid even blinking might make him miss something. 

“Still with me, Sunghoon?” you ask softly.

He nods a little too fast, his voice catching. “Y-yeah. I’m… I’m watching.”

“Good,” you say, leaning back slightly, your body open under the low lamplight. “Now keep watching.” Your nails trace slow, deliberate paths over the lace stretched across your hips, the sheer panel barely hiding anything from him. You sit back on your knees, giving him an unhurried view, your head tilted just enough to make it look like you’re sizing him up. His knees are spread wider now, not from confidence, but because it feels like his body doesn’t know how to contain itself, like there’s too much heat building in him and it has to go somewhere.

“Eyes on me,” you instruct, and his gaze, which hadn’t dared wander, sharpens further, locked onto the space between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing. “Tell me,” you murmur, thumbs hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling just enough to let the elastic snap back against your skin, “what do you see?” 

His voice is low, almost reverent, like the words are fragile in his mouth. “I see… you. In the prettiest lingerie I’ve ever seen. The way it hugs you—” he swallows hard, jaw flexing “—it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Mhm,” you hum, as if considering whether his answer is good enough. “You know what this set is called?” You slowly spread your knees apart, the lace stretching tighter, a faint shimmer catching in the low light. “It’s called Sweet Sin. Thought it was fitting.”

He exhales shakily, his hands curling into fists on his thighs. “Yeah,” he manages, voice rough. “Fits you. Sweet… and sinful.”

You let your fingers drift lower, brushing over the thin lace, pressing just enough to feel yourself under your own touch. His breath hitches immediately, his shoulders squaring like the movement alone punched the air out of him. “Mhm” you say softly, “you start slow. You let her feel herself for you. You don’t grab at her, you don’t rush. You let her take her time.” You press more firmly, rolling your hips slightly into your palm, and his thighs tense so hard you can hear the faint creak of the chair under him. “You’re gonna watch how she reacts,” you continue, your voice slipping into something filthier, each word intentional. “Watch the way her mouth parts when it feels good… the way her hips move like she’s trying to fuck her own hand. See that?”

“Yes,” he breathes, his voice thick and broken. “Fuck— I see it.” You smile lazily, sliding your hand up just enough to hook your thumb into the waistband again. “Next,” you murmur, “you take it off. But slow.” You lift your hips, shimmying the panties down an inch at a time, until they’re caught halfway down your thighs. The air feels cool against your damp skin, but his gaze is scorching, burning a path over you with no mercy.

“Sunghoon,” you say, voice low but sharp enough to slice through his restraint, “tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

His jaw works like he’s trying to chew the words into something safe, but what comes out is raw. “I’m thinking… I’d do anything to touch you right now. Anything. You’re— fuck, you’re so pretty, I don’t even know where I’d start.” You grin slowly, dragging the panties the rest of the way off, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. Now, there’s nothing between his eyes and the wet heat of you, and you spread your knees wider on purpose, propping yourself on one hand so the other can drag lazy circles over your clit. His breathing turns uneven, every inhale sharper than the last, and you can see the way his body is strung so tight it’s almost painful. 

“Good,” you purr, dipping two fingers lower, coating them in your own slick before sliding them back up. “Then you’re paying attention. Because this—” you bite your lip as your fingers find just the right pressure “—this is exactly what you do to her first. Just enough to make her want more. But you don’t give it to her yet.”

His eyes are glassy behind his glasses, his mouth hanging open like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. “You’re killing me,” he says, and there’s no humor in it, just pure, unfiltered desperation. You let out a low laugh, still moving your fingers, your hips rolling in slow, obscene little circles. “Not yet, baby. But maybe… if you’re good…” 

“Step three…” You smile, slow and wicked. “When you know she’s aching for it, when she’s soaked and shaking and begging, that’s when you take her exactly where she wants to go. Not before. Not after.” Your voice drops into a husky whisper. “And right now, Sunghoon… you’re going to watch me take myself there while you sit there and wish it was you.”

He makes a low, strangled noise, leaning forward like he’s physically fighting the urge to grab you. “Say it,” you tell him. “Say you wish it was you.”

His voice is raw when he answers. “I wish it was me. More than anything.” 

You bite your lip, feeling the tension coil inside you until it’s almost unbearable. “Then watch closely. Because when I finally let you touch me, you’re going to do it exactly like this.” You guide yourself through it, every gasp and arch of your spine drawn out so he sees exactly what works, every sound spilling from your lips just for him. The room is heavy with the heat of it, the quiet, desperate way he breathes like he’s in pain, the almost reverent way his eyes stay locked on yours even when your body shakes apart. When it’s over, when your chest is heaving and your limbs are loose, you smile at him with slow, deliberate cruelty. “Lesson over,” you whisper. “For now.”

You sit back on the bed, legs folded beneath you, chest heaving lightly as you smooth a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Sunghoon is still perched in the chair, glasses slightly fogged, eyes wide and unblinking like he’s just been hit by a storm he can’t quite process. There’s something unbearably cute about the way he keeps adjusting them, as if trying to hide himself from the intensity of the moment. “Good job tonight,” you say softly, letting the praise drip out slowly, savoring the way he swallows at your words. “You did exactly what I asked, and I’m proud.” 

His hands twitch against his thighs again, and you notice the faint shake in his voice when he responds. “Th-thank you… I—I mean, I tried. I didn’t want to—” He trails off, face flaming red.

“You didn’t want to what?” you ask, tilting your head, playful yet commanding, forcing him to meet your gaze.

He swallows hard, the glasses slipping again as he pushes them back up the bridge of his nose. “I… I didn’t want to mess up. I didn’t want to…” He huffs out a shaky breath, “I don’t know. I just wanted to do it right.”

A soft chuckle escapes you, and it’s almost warm, a little teasing. “And you did. Perfectly. That’s why I like teaching you, Sunghoon. You’re eager. You’re careful. And you pay attention. That’s rare.”

His knees bounce slightly, and he tries to sit up straighter, though his body still feels tense. “I… I like learning from you. I mean… you’re… amazing at this.”

You smirk, letting your fingers trail lightly over your own arm in a subtle, teasing motion, the heat between you still crackling. “Well,” you say, leaning back on your hands and giving him a slow, deliberate look, “tonight was just the first lesson. The next one?” You bite your lip, the corner of your mouth tugging upward with mischief. “It’s going to be ten times more fun. Are you ready for that?”

His eyes widen, pupils dilated, and there’s a short, sharp intake of breath that makes your stomach flutter. “I—I… I’ll be ready,” he stammers, voice shaky but eager.

“Good,” you purr, standing and letting the movement stretch your legs, swaying just enough to make him swallow audibly. “Because I don’t do boring lessons, Sunghoon. And you? You’re in for a ride next time.”

He nods so quickly it’s almost comical, fumbling for words. “I-I won’t mess up. I promise. I’ll… I’ll be ready.”

You grin, letting the teasing linger just a second longer before heading toward the door. “I’ll hold you to that,” you say over your shoulder, voice soft but full of authority, leaving him blinking after you, heat still racing through him, pulse hammering. Sunghoon rises from his seat, following you out into the living room and to the door of your dorm, you open it with a smile comparable to an invitation. Sunghoon's eyes glaze over before he walks out the door. The door closes behind him , the room falling silent except for the faint click, but the tension doesn’t leave. You know it’s only going to build until the next lesson, and somewhere deep down, Sunghoon is already counting down the hours. 

The week had been a slow, grinding march toward mental collapse. Exam season never failed to bleed you dry, but this time, it felt like you were clawing your way up a cliff face with no rope. Sunghoon, of course, had been breezing through his own exams like they were puzzles designed for children, he’d probably already aced half of them before you had even cracked your textbooks. And while you were drowning in color-coded notes and half-empty coffee cups, he’d been sending the occasional message. Little check-ins, casual banter, and, when the mood struck, that wicked streak he was still learning to control. 

You’d returned the favor once or twice in your own way, snapping a few pictures when the lighting was flattering, when you knew the angle of your body would linger in his mind long after he locked his phone. They weren’t as bold as they could’ve been, you’d been too buried in flashcards and readings, but they were enough. Enough to keep him restless. Enough to remind him what he was working toward. His shy and awkward resolve lessened behind a screen, that much was evident and boy did you enjoy the teasing. 

But the truth was, no matter how tempting those exchanges were, you couldn’t afford to lose focus. Unlike him, your classes didn’t come easy. You couldn’t wing it on test day and hope for the best, you needed to study, to put in hours until the information sat in your head like carved stone. But the moment you clicked “submit” on your last exam, a weight lifted from your chest, and for the first time in days, you could breathe. And tonight, you’d promised yourself, you wouldn’t think about school. Not once. Your phone buzzed on the desk where you’d tossed it earlier, screen lighting up with a message from Lara: Outside, finally. 

You grinned, snatching it up and firing off a quick On my way! before shoving it into your bag. Your outfit was already picked, something that made you feel like the main character of the night, with just enough edge to turn heads. The second you stepped into the hallway, the stale dorm air seemed to fade, replaced by the faint hum of excitement that came with knowing a party waited at the end of the drive.

When you pushed open the building’s front door, the crisp night air hit your cheeks, and there was Lara’s beat-up little sedan idling under the streetlight, the bass of some playlist thumping faintly from inside. She leaned out the window, hair curled perfectly, grinning at you like she’d just spotted trouble in the making. “Took you long enough,” she teased as you jogged up, her eyes darting over your outfit approvingly. “But damn; worth the wait.” She takes off fast down the road like her pedal couldn't wait to get to where you needed to go, and you were right there with it.

The party hums like a living thing, the bass thrumming through the floorboards before you’ve even stepped inside. The air smells like cheap beer, perfume, and the faint tang of weed clinging to someone’s clothes. The moment you and Lara push through the door, heat wraps around you, voices weaving into an endless tide of laughter and chatter. Your friends spot you almost instantly, a small, familiar cluster across the living room. Yunah waves wildly from the couch, Jay raises his red solo cup in greeting, and Jake calls your name over the music. And then you see him Heeseung. 

He’s leaned casually against the wall like he has nowhere to be and nothing to prove, one hand tucked into the pocket of his black jeans, the other wrapped loosely around a drink. His dark eyes flick briefly in your direction and then, nothing. No nod, no smirk, not even the ghost of recognition. Just a glance that slides off you like you’re a stranger at his party. You match his energy, your chin tipping up as you turn away without a greeting.

You barely make it three steps toward the couch before Daniela, Yunah, and Lara swoop in like vultures, herding you into a quiet corner near the hallway. “Okay, spill,” Daniela demands, eyes narrowing like she’s seconds from shaking the truth out of you. “Why are you and Heeseung acting like you’ve never met? You were attached at the—” She stops herself, lips curling into a knowing grin. “You know.” 

You shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your pulse ticks just a little faster at the subject. “We stopped our… arrangement,” you say, voice pitched casually over the music. “And he got pissy about it.”

“What do you mean pissy?” Yunah asks, leaning in like this is the best gossip she’s heard all month.

You roll your eyes. “I told him I didn’t want to do it anymore. He didn’t take it well. Said I was just good pussy to him or whatever” You air-quote the words like they’re ridiculous. “It was purely sex between us. That’s all.”

Lara snorts. “He’s such an asshole.” 

Daniela, however, tilts her head, the way she always does when she’s about to say something you don’t want to hear. “Or,” she says slowly, “he likes you.” You laugh, loud and sharp, because it’s easier than letting the comment land. “Please. The only thing Heeseung likes is getting off. End of story.” She doesn’t argue, but the way her mouth presses into a tight, thoughtful line tells you she’s not buying it for a second. By the time you rejoin the group, the music’s shifted into a heavier beat, bodies swaying in the open space where the furniture’s been pushed aside. Jake is telling some over-the-top story to Jay, his hands flying animatedly, but your focus snags on the figure draped against Heeseung’s side. Sakura.

Her manicured fingers rest possessively on his forearm, her head tipped toward him like she’s whispering something meant only for him. He doesn’t notice you watching, or maybe he does and doesn’t care, but the sight barely stirs anything in you. You don’t care. You don’t. If anything, it’s just confirmation. Whatever you and Heeseung had was physical, transactional, and fully in the past. Still, your stomach twists when Sakura glances your way and her mouth curls into something that isn’t quite a smile. The conversation flows easily enough when you slip back into the circle, laughter and jokes bouncing between your friends, but every few minutes, without fail, Sakura chimes in with some little barb aimed directly at you. Not loud enough to cause a scene, but sharp enough to catch.

“Wow, interesting outfit choice,” she murmurs after one of your jokes, her gaze sweeping over you with deliberate slowness.

When you tell a funny story from class, she hums under her breath, “Guess they’ll let anyone enroll these days.” It’s the third or fourth comment that makes you finally turn to her, your patience frayed thin. “Okay,” you say, your voice sweet but edged with steel, “do you want to tell me what your problem is, or are you just going to keep yapping like a chihuahua in the corner?”

The circle goes still, like someone’s hit pause on the party. Sakura’s eyes flash. “My problem,” she says, stepping closer, “is you. You think you’re so much better than everyone, strutting around—”

You cut her off with a slow smile, the kind you know will only piss her off more. “Sweetheart, the only one strutting around here is you. And for the record? You should focus on keeping your man’s attention instead of trying to get mine.” A couple of your friends bite back laughs, but Jay actually snorts into his drink.

Her cheeks flush an ugly shade of red. “You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re boring,” you fire back, your voice syrupy. “Which is worse, really.” It’s the kind of line that leaves her blinking for a split second before she spins on her heel and storms off, muttering something under her breath.

Heeseung’s jaw is tight, his eyes sharp as they find yours. “What the hell was that?” he demands, stepping toward you.

You raise your brows, unbothered. “Just returning the energy she gave me.”

“That’s not—” He cuts himself off when Jay steps in, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“She started it, man,” Jay says simply.

Yunah chimes in, “Yeah, keep your dog on a leash if you don’t want her biting people.” The comment earns a chorus of laughter from the group, everyone except Heeseung, who mutters something under his breath and stalks after Sakura, disappearing into the crowd.

The laughter and chatter around you feel muffled now, fading into background noise like someone turned the volume down on the entire party. After your exchange with Sakura, whatever spark of fun you’d been riding when you first arrived is gone, smothered by irritation and that lingering, restless heat in your chest. The bass-heavy music thumps through the walls, shaking your drink just enough to send the ice clinking against the glass, but you barely register it. Every time someone brushes past, every time another shrill laugh cuts through the air, it just grates on you more. You glance at your friends, Lara deep in conversation with Yunah, Jay making exaggerated gestures at Jake over something ridiculous, and you know that if you stayed, you’d just spend the rest of the night standing here, sipping the same drink, staring into space, and replaying that spat over and over in your head. No thanks. You’ve got better ways to burn off this mood.

You nurse the last of your drink and drift toward the hallway, away from the crowd, your phone already in your hand. There’s only one person you can think of right now, one person who might, awkwardly, sweetly, make this mood melt away. Your thumb hovers over Sunghoon’s contact for a beat before you press call. It rings longer than usual before he answers, his voice soft and almost uncertain, like he wasn’t sure you meant to call him.  “Hello? …Uh, hey.”

You can hear the faint rustle of movement on his end, like he’s sitting up straighter, adjusting his glasses, clearing his throat. “You—uh—you’re at that party, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning against the wall. “But I’m… not really feeling it anymore.”

“Oh.” He hesitates. “Uh… sorry, that sucks. Did something happen?” You smile faintly at how genuine he sounds, worried first, rather than curious. “Just not in the mood to be here. I was thinking maybe… it’s time for another lesson.”

There’s a pause. And then another. You almost think the call’s dropped until you hear him swallow.  “A… lesson?” His voice cracks slightly on the word, like he’s afraid to assume you mean that kind. “You mean, like right now?”

“Mm-hm.” You keep your tone soft but steady, letting the suggestion hang there.

“Oh. Uh. Wow.” He laughs nervously, and you can picture him rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting anywhere but forward. “I-I mean… I guess I could… um… yeah. Yeah, I could come by.” His words stumble over each other, and it’s almost endearing how hard he’s trying not to sound too eager.  

“You guess?” you tease, and the hitch in his breath is so audible you have to bite back a laugh.

“I mean—yes. Yes, I’ll come by,” he rushes to correct, his voice quiet but determined. “If… if you want me to.”

“I do,” you say, smiling now, your voice dipping just enough for him to hear it. “It’s not too late, right?”

“N-no. Not for you. I was just… uh… studying, so… I can be there soon. Like… maybe twenty minutes?”

“Perfect. I’ll be waiting.” When you hang up, you can almost imagine him sitting there, staring at his phone with wide eyes, already running through a dozen awkward what-if scenarios in his head. The thought makes something warm curl low in your stomach.

When you get home, the quiet hits you like a cool wave after the overheated chaos of the party. You kick your shoes off in the hallway, letting the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant city sounds settle into the background. Your phone buzzes in your hand, a message from Sunghoon saying he’s about ten minutes away. 

Just reading it sends a spark through you. Ten minutes isn’t much. Ten minutes is barely enough time to breathe, let alone get ready, but the rush of it makes your pulse quicken. You toss your phone onto the bed and start moving with purpose. You open your dresser, fingers skimming over fabric until you find it, the lingerie set you’ve been saving, one that makes you feel like every soft, dangerous thing all at once. The color is rich against your skin, the straps framing you perfectly. You slip it on, adjusting the cups, smoothing the edges, and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You almost laugh, yeah, this will do. 

You fluff your hair, fingers working through the strands to give it that effortless, just-messed look, and swipe on a touch of lip gloss for good measure. There’s no time for overthinking. By the time you’re putting your brush down, a knock sounds at your door, three quick, tentative taps, like he’s not sure if he should even be here. Your stomach flips. You swing the door open, and there he is,  Sunghoon, in a hoodie that’s slightly too big for him, the sleeves pushed up awkwardly to his forearms. His hair is a little mussed, glasses slightly askew, and the second his eyes find you, his mouth opens like he’s going to say something,  but nothing comes out. “Hi—” he starts, but you barely let him get the syllable out before you’re catching his wrist and tugging him inside.

“Come on,” you say, the words paired with a giggle that makes his ears turn pink almost instantly.

He stumbles a little at the sudden pull, mumbling something like, “W-wait—” but you’re already leading him straight to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. The moment he steps inside, you push him gently onto the bed, and he lands on his back with a startled oof, wide eyes blinking up at you like he can’t believe any of this is actually happening.

You crawl onto the bed, straddling him, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. His gasp is audible, sharp in the quiet, and you feel the twitch in his leg as he shifts nervously beneath you. “This,” you murmur, leaning forward just enough that your hair falls over your shoulder, “is lesson number two.”

He swallows hard, eyes darting between your face and anywhere else, the ceiling, the wall, the hem of your lingerie like he’s afraid to stare too long. “Really?” His voice is small, careful, like he’s testing the words. 

“Mhm.” You let your hands rest lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat through his hoodie. “And this time… you get to participate.”

The flush in his cheeks deepens instantly. “P-participate? Like—uh—like… actually…?” He trails off, the end of his sentence dissolving into nervous laughter, his fingers curling into the blanket beneath him. “Yes, Sunghoon. Actually.” You tilt your head, smiling. “You’ve been a good student so far. Think you can handle it?”

He bites his lip, the motion quick and nervous. “I—uh… I don’t… I mean, I’ll try, I just—” He pushes his glasses up, the movement clumsy, and you can see the way his hands tremble slightly. “You’re just… you look… wow.” You laugh softly, leaning down until your face is close to his. “Wow, huh?”

He nods quickly, eyes wide. “Yeah. Like… really… wow.” His voice cracks on the last word, and you can’t help but grin. “Good.” Your hands slide slowly down his chest, stopping just above his stomach. “Because you’re about to get some very hands-on practice.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes locking on yours for a brief, unguarded second before darting away again. “O-okay,” he says quietly, the sound almost lost in the small space between you. “I… want to learn.” And God, the way he says it, so earnest, so unsure, like the idea of touching you is both thrilling and terrifying, makes you want to tease him even more.

His fingers are still resting on your hips when you push them higher, pressing his palms against your waist until his thumbs graze the underside of your breasts. You watch the realization bloom across his face, the way his mouth parts slightly, the way his pupils dilate. “Go on,” you coax, arching into his touch.

He hesitates, throat working. “C-Can I…?”

“Sunghoon,” you murmur, leaning down so your nose brushes his. “I told you. You don’t need to ask. Not with me.” Something shifts in him at that, like a string pulled taut finally snapping. His hands slide upward, cupping your tits through the lace, and the strangled sound that leaves him is pure, unfiltered want.  

“That’s it,” you praise, rocking your hips against him. “Feel me. Learn me.”

He swallows hard, thumbs brushing over the stiff peaks beneath the fabric. “You’re—fuck—you’re perfect.”

“Foreplay,” you say in a low, deliberate tone, “isn’t just touching for the sake of touching. It’s about anticipation. About making every nerve in my body ache for you. You have to make me crave you.”

His breath hitches as you guide one of his hands down, over your ribs, your stomach, until his fingertips catch on the thin band of lace at your hip. His gaze flicks up to yours again, that instinct to ask still alive in his eyes. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Just do it.” And for once, he does. His fingers slip beneath the fabric, just barely, enough to make you shiver. He’s tentative at first, tracing the curve of your hip bone, but then he grows bolder, his hand moving to cup the heat between your thighs over the lace.

“God—” you exhale sharply, and he freezes, eyes wide.

“Was that—okay?” You smirk, curling your hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer. “More than okay. Don’t second-guess yourself. If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you. Until then… keep going.”

He nods, jaw tight, and you can feel the tremor in his hand as he presses more firmly, rubbing slow, experimental circles that already make your breath hitch. His other hand remains on your chest, squeezing gently, his touch clumsy but eager, and you can feel him getting harder beneath you with every movement. “See?” you murmur, voice thick with heat. “Foreplay is twofold — you get me worked up, and it works you up, too.”

“I’m—” He cuts himself off with a shaky groan as you grind down on him, the friction making his head fall back against the pillows. “Shit, I’m not gonna last if you keep—”

“That’s part of the lesson, too,” you interrupt, grinning wickedly. “Control. You tease until they can’t take it, but you don’t let them break. Not yet.”

You take his wrist, guiding his fingers under the lace now, against bare skin. His exhale is almost a whimper. “Holy—” He bites his lip so hard you’re almost worried it’ll bleed. “Touch me,” you order softly. “Really touch me.” And when he finally does, tentative strokes turning into something firmer, hungrier, you can tell the shy, hesitant Sunghoon from a few minutes ago is already starting to fade, replaced by someone who’s beginning to understand the power of making you melt under his hands.

You can feel the tremor in his hands as you shift back just enough to delicately pull your straps down. His gaze tracks the movement instantly, like he’s afraid to miss a single second “You—” His voice cracks, the flush in his cheeks deepening. “You’re really—”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, slow and deliberate as you pull the fabric all the way down, unhooking the clasp and letting it drop somewhere off the bed. His eyes go glassy, lips parted like he’s trying to commit every detail to memory. 

He moves like he’s in a trance, both hands sliding up your sides until his thumbs graze the undercurve of your breasts again. This time, there’s no faltering, he cups you fully, kneading with an uncertain rhythm but more pressure than before, learning what makes your breath catch. “Better,” you murmur against his mouth, letting your tongue just barely trace his lower lip before pulling away again. 

You trail your hands down his chest until you reach the hem of his hoodie, then slip beneath it, fingers splaying over firm muscle hidden under soft skin. He makes a sound, half groan, half whimper, when you push the hoodie up, and you catch the way his arms lift obediently so you can strip it off him completely. The sight of him, pale skin, lean lines, a slight curve of muscle down his abdomen has you biting your lip. He’s beautiful in a way that’s almost unfair, all awkward tension and raw need. “You’re staring,” he says, but it’s not an accusation.

“Yeah,” you reply simply, palms sliding over his bare shoulders. “I am.”  You press your body fully to his now, the heat between you near unbearable. The way his breath stutters when you grind down just slightly makes you smirk.

“Lesson two,” you murmur, letting your nails lightly drag down his sides, “is that foreplay isn’t just with your hands. Your whole body can tease.” You roll your hips again, slower this time, and his head tips back, throat working as if he’s swallowing down a sound. You take advantage, leaning in to press your lips to the line of his jaw, then his throat, letting your teeth scrape lightly before soothing the spot with your tongue.

“F-fuck—” The curse leaves him like he didn’t mean to, his hands tightening on your waist.

“You like that?” you ask, low, almost taunting.

He nods quickly, almost desperately. “Yeah. Please don’t stop.”

“Good,” you breathe, kissing down to his collarbone. “Because we’re not even halfway through the lesson yet.” You guide one of his hands back to the warmth between your thighs again, urging him under the lace once again, this time pressing his fingers exactly where you want them. The groan that tears out of him when he feels you, hot, wet, aching is so raw it makes you shiver. “Keep going,” you whisper against his ear. “Match my rhythm.”

When you start to grind into his hand, he tries to follow, still clumsy but catching on fast, his breathing turning ragged as he realizes what he’s doing to you. You can feel the hard press of him beneath you, insistent, almost painful, and you know he’s close to losing it. “That’s it,” you praise, voice low and dripping heat. “Learn me. Make me beg for you.”

His breath is jagged now, his lips parted as if he can’t pull in enough air. You can feel his pulse hammering through the hand you’ve guided between your thighs, each brush of his fingers making your own chest tighten.

“God—” he mutters, the word shaky, almost reverent. “You feel…” He trails off, like the rest is too filthy for him to even voice.

“Say it,” you coax, biting softly at the edge of his jaw. “No censoring. I told you; foreplay isn’t shy.”

“You feel so fucking good,” he blurts, and the sound of it, the curse wrapped in that breathless tone, shoots straight through you. 

“That’s better,” you murmur, and in reward, you press your hips harder into his hand, grinding slow enough to make him squirm beneath you. He tries to match the pace, still finding his rhythm, still rough around the edges, but each mistake is delicious, another chance to guide him with a moan or the press of your hand over his. When you pull back just enough to look at him, he’s flushed all the way down his neck, hair sticking to his forehead, lips wet and swollen from your earlier kisses. It makes you want to ruin him completely.

You lean forward, catching his mouth again, but this time you deepen it instantly, no slow build, no teasing edge. You kiss him like you own him, tongue sliding against his until he groans into you, his free hand digging into your waist as though to keep you from pulling away. His hands move up, bolder now, dragging from your hips to your ribs before cupping your breasts again. He squeezes, thumbs brushing over your nipples,and the shiver that runs through you makes him groan, like he’s just discovered a cheat code.

“That’s it,” you breathe, rolling your hips against the hard line of him beneath you. “Use your hands, your mouth… keep me wanting more.” He swallows hard, then leans up to kiss along your collarbone, down to the swell of your chest. The first brush of his lips against your skin is clumsy but when you gasp, genuine and sharp, he does it again, harder this time, teeth catching before his tongue soothes over the spot.

Your head tips back. “Good boy.” The praise seems to short-circuit him, his hips buck under you without permission, his hand between your thighs pressing harder. You let him, riding the movement slow enough to keep him just on the edge of losing control.

Every sound that leaves him is more desperate than the last, small curses, half-formed groans, your name like a plea. You’re soaked now, every grind against his palm making your thighs tremble, but you hold the reins, watching him fall apart under you. “You’re learning fast,” you whisper, leaning down until your lips brush his ear. “But we’re not done yet.” He’s still fisting your tits, squeezing and circling your pebbled nipples. 

“Good,” you breathe, guiding his head down with a hand in his hair. “Now—use your mouth.”

He obeys without hesitation, closing his lips around one peak and sucking tentatively before letting his tongue flick against it. You gasp, arching into him, and the sound makes him groan against your skin. His other hand works the opposite breast, fingers rolling gently, finding what makes you twitch. “That’s it,” you murmur, one hand clutching his hair tighter, the other still guiding the rhythm of his fingers between your thighs. “Keep me wanting. Keep me—” 

A sudden grind of his palm against your clit cuts your sentence into a moan. When you pull back to look at him, his lips are glossy, chin damp from the trail his mouth left over your skin, and his breathing is uneven. You can see him fighting the urge to rut up into you, his hips twitching beneath yours, his erection straining against his jeans. 

You rock against him deliberately, the friction enough to make his eyes flutter shut, a curse slipping out low under his breath. “Fuck—” he groans, hands tightening on your hips. “I’m— I don’t know how long—”

You smirk, leaning down until your lips hover over his. “You’re not coming yet,” you tell him, your voice like silk over steel. “Not until I say so.” He whimpers, an actual, desperate sound — and it shoots heat straight through you. His hands roam over you more frantically now, trying to memorize the weight and feel of every inch. “Lesson’s not over,” you tease, shifting just enough that his cock is perfectly lined up against the soaked heat of you, the only thing between you and his skin the thin fabric of your panties and his jeans. You grind down slowly, and his head falls back with a broken groan.

“Feel that?” you whisper in his ear. “That’s what you get when you know exactly how to build someone up.” He nods frantically, but his hands are shaking now, fingers digging into your thighs like he’s barely holding it together.

You kiss him again, filthy, wet, tongues tangling until he’s gasping for breath. Your chest presses to his, bare skin on skin, the heat between you unbearable. Every movement, every little grind, keeps him teetering at the edge but never falling “Please,” he finally whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Mmm, not yet,” you murmur, biting his lower lip before pulling back. “We’re going to stop here… so you can remember exactly how much you want it.” When you slide off his lap, he’s wrecked, flushed, lips swollen, breathing ragged, and his jeans painfully tight. His hands twitch like he doesn’t know whether to pull you back or bury his face in them. 

You grin wickedly. “Next lesson,” you promise, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth, “we’ll see how long you can last when I really push you.” 

A few days after Sunghoon left, you found yourself replaying every second of that night over and over in your mind. His wide eyes, the way his hands trembled at first, and the slow, almost desperate pressure of his fingers as he learned exactly how to touch you, it made you shiver even thinking about it. Every text you’d exchanged since then only heightened it. Each small photo you sent, each teasing comment he replied with, made you pulse with heat and anticipation. He was learning fast, becoming bolder, more confident… yet still adorably nervous, fumbling over words, asking questions in little bursts of “uh… is this okay?” or “should I…?” every time you pushed him to try a new touch. 

Exams had finally ended, giving you a little more freedom. You could feel the itch in your mind and your body, the need to take Sunghoon’s next lesson to its inevitable conclusion. There was a thrill in watching him grow more confident with each interaction, knowing that tonight would be the night he finally crossed that line into something he’d never done before. The thought made your pulse race, the fluttering in your stomach a mix of anticipation and wicked excitement. You grinned at your reflection in the mirror, carefully adjusting the curve of your lips into a teasing smirk as your hand brushed over your hair, imagining the look on his face when he saw you again.

By mid-afternoon, you had a plan. The first lesson had gone flawlessly, teaching him to watch, teasing him with every word, every stroke, every subtle movement of your body. The second had taken him to the edge, letting him touch you, guiding him through every touch, every gasp, every shiver. Tonight would be the culmination, and you wanted it to be slow, deliberate, heated, and unforgettable. You pictured the moment you’d open the door to him, his shy, crooked-glasses grin, that flush rising into his neck and ears, the nervous tremor in his hands. It made your own body ache in anticipation. You were already assembling the tools of the night, pulling out the lingerie you knew would drive him wild, selecting the sex toys you wanted him to watch you with, and setting the lights just right so the shadows would flirt with your curves. Even the scent of your favorite candle flickering in the corner seemed to add to the tension in the room, filling the air with a soft, intoxicating aroma that made your pulse race. Every detail was meticulously planned, every inch of the lesson calculated to make him desperate for you.

When your phone buzzed, your stomach flipped. A single text from him: “On my way. Nervous… but excited.” You smiled at the tiny quiver in his words, the perfect mix of need and innocence. You typed back quickly, keeping it teasing: “I hope you’re ready. Tonight, you’re going to learn everything… and I mean everything.” A thrill ran through you, and you leaned back, letting your fingers brush over your skin just slightly, imagining his wide, eager eyes following your every move. You had a feeling that tonight, once the door closed behind him, the shy, nerdy, inexperienced boy who had first walked in trembling would be transformed, if only slightly, into someone bold enough to finally touch you the way you deserved.

And as the clock ticked closer to his arrival, you could feel your body tensing in anticipation, each heartbeat loud in your chest, your mind running through the lessons again. Every touch, every moan, every gasp you’d drawn from him before would culminate tonight, and you were ready to make it unforgettable. The knock at your door was punctual, exactly 7:00 p.m. and when you swung it open, there he was. Sunghoon, looking slightly disheveled, hair sticking up at odd angles like he’d run his fingers through it a dozen times, glasses crooked and cheeks flushed with nervous anticipation. But there was something different in his eyes tonight, a spark that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Excitement. Curiosity. A hunger that mirrored your own.

“Hey,” you greeted him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Not the mischievous, predatory grin of last time, but wholesome, excited, the kind that made him flush even harder. “You made it. How are you feeling?”

For the first time since you’d met him, Sunghoon didn’t stumble over his words. He took a deep breath, straightened his crooked glasses with an almost comical flourish, and said, “I… I’m ready. I’ve been looking forward to this.” His voice was still soft, still tentative, but there was an underlying confidence now, a quiet thrill that made your chest tighten. You couldn’t help it,  you laughed softly, that sound wrapping around him like a warm embrace. “Look at you! You’re growing up so fast, huh?” you teased, reaching forward to boop his nose, making him flinch and sputter a little before he laughed nervously himself.

“Y-you’re… wow,” he muttered, eyes flicking around your room, drinking in the flickering candlelight, the subtle curve of your shoulders, the carefully chosen lingerie peeking out from the silky robe you wore. He swallowed hard, and you could almost see the tension building in him, like he was both terrified and desperate to dive in all at once.You reached for his hand, guiding him gently to the couch. “Sit, silly. Before we dive into the… main event,” you said, your voice lowering to that sultry timbre you knew sent shivers down his spine. “You’ve worked so hard these past two lessons, and before the real fun begins, you deserve a little reward. A warm-up, if you will.”

His eyes widened, a little pink blooming in his cheeks as he complied, sitting down and fidgeting nervously, hands clasped tightly in his lap. His nerves were still there, yes, but his eagerness was tangible now, you could see it in the way he leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on you, barely breathing as if every exhale would make him miss something crucial. You climbed onto the arm of the couch, leaning in close to whisper just loud enough for him to hear, letting the heat of your body brush against him. “Tonight,” you murmured, lips grazing his ear, “we’re going to take everything you’ve learned and turn it up. But first… we’re going to explore a little reward. Just for you. You earned it.”

Sunghoon’s head tilted slightly, lips parting, a small, breathless sound escaping him. “I… I don’t know if I'm confident in what I can do” he admitted, voice low and vulnerable, the slightest tremor betraying how badly he wanted you.

“You don’t have to be,” you whispered, letting your fingers brush along the line of his jaw, down his neck. “All you have to do is watch, listen, and follow. Trust me, I’ll guide you every step of the way.” He nodded, the little tremble of his shoulders giving away the battle between excitement and nerves raging inside him. And as he sat there, utterly captivated, you could feel the anticipation coil tight inside both of you, ready to snap as the night stretched ahead, every second weighted with possibility. 

You shift slightly on the couch, letting your robe slide just a bit off your shoulder, revealing the lace of your bra underneath. His eyes nearly pop out of his head, a low gasp escaping him before he quickly ducks his gaze, cheeks flaming. “I—” he stammers, fingers fidgeting in his lap as if he’s not sure whether to look or to kneel right there in awe.

You chuckle softly, reaching out to lift his chin with a gentle finger. “Look at me, Sunghoon. You don’t have to hide. Tonight… tonight this is all for you.” 

His lips part, eyes flicking to yours, then down to the lace of your bra again. “Y-you… you look so… beautiful,” he breathes, voice trembling. “I… I want to… I want to touch, but I… I don’t know if I should.” 

You tilt your head, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “Shh… you don’t have to ask. Not tonight. Just follow my lead. Your reward… starts now.” You inch closer, letting your hand trail along your thigh, brushing just over the delicate lace of your panties. His breathing hitches, a low groan slipping past him, fingers twitching, longing to follow but obeying your silent rule. You slide your hand under your bra, brushing over your nipple, letting it harden under your fingers as he swallows audibly. His hands twitch, pressing into his thighs as he struggles to contain the heat building in him. “I… I want… I want to…,” he stammers, cheeks red, lips parted.

“Not yet,” you purr, brushing a finger down his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your touch.

He leans forward slightly, eyes locked on your movements as your hand continues to explore, teasing yourself in front of him, letting him drink in every inch. “I want more..” 

You smile, tilting your head to look at him, letting your robe slide fully off your shoulders. “Oh, baby… that’s the point. You’ll get more soon, but first… watch me. Learn me. Know exactly what makes me melt, and then, when it’s your turn, you’ll have the knowledge to drive me insane.” His breathing is ragged now, glasses slightly fogged, hands twitching. “Y-you… you’re… I…” He trails off, voice broken with need, cheeks flushed a bright red as he watches you fully, eyes glued to your every movement.

He groans, a little whimper escaping, eyes flicking up to yours with a mix of awe, need, and that adorably shy uncertainty that makes him irresistible. And as you lean back slightly, letting him take it all in. 

“Okay…” Your voice was soft, hesitant, and teasing, and it carried through the dorm room in a way that made the air feel heavy, taut, almost electric. You slid off the couch, letting your knees sink into the plush carpet as you settled between his open thighs. The space was intimate, cramped in all the right ways, and every movement, every breath seemed amplified in the stillness around you. Sunghoon’s gaze found you instantly, wide and dark and impossibly alive, pupils dilated as if he could absorb you whole with just a look. His breathing was uneven, shallow, ragged, the heat pooling at the base of his throat and spilling in little hitches every time his gaze flickered downward. 

“It’s time I help you out a bit,” you murmured, your voice low, deliberate, and sultry, letting the weight of your words press against him before you even touched him. Your fingers found the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging gently, coaxing, and then you gestured for him to lift his hips just enough. With one fluid motion, you peeled the pants down, letting them fall to the floor in a soft thud. His gasp, sharp and ragged, filled the room, reverberating against the walls.

“O-oh…” His voice cracked, high, soft, almost helpless, and it tugged something deep in your chest. He gripped the couch arms so tightly his knuckles were white, the tension in his body radiating like heat off a flame. You smiled at him then, a smile that was soft and wholesome and innocent in all the ways that made your actions feel deliciously wicked by contrast. Sliding a hand beneath his boxers, you freed him, letting the full weight of him rest in your palm.

He was bigger than you expected. Your breath hitched involuntarily at the feel, the sheer substance of him, warm and taut in your grip. A soft gasp left your lips, and you caught the brief flash of confusion in his eyes, his cheeks blooming pink, a warm flush that made him look almost untouchably vulnerable. His innocence, paired with the raw, undeniable need in his gaze, was intoxicating. The thought that you were the one who drew this out of him made something coil tight in your chest. “Tonight… it’s all about you,” you whispered, dragging your hand slowly along his length, deliberate, teasing, savoring the tremor that shot through him at your touch. He hissed, an involuntary reaction, lifting his hips slightly as if asking for more, only for your free hand to press him back down firmly, insistently.

“Stay still,” you tsked, sharp, yet playful, your voice a velvet whip across the tension building between you. Leaning forward, you let a small drop of spit slip from your lips onto your palm, slick and ready. “Can you do that for me?” His nod was immediate, almost jittery, and it made a soft, amused laugh bubble from your chest. You returned to him, your hand moving with deliberate rhythm, taking in every moan, whimper, and curse. Every sound he made was music, a symphony of need, and you let it thread through you, slow and thick like honey.

For a single, teasing moment, you let go, shifting just enough to slide your bra down and let your breasts spill free, pale skin against the dim light, soft curves framed by delicate lace. His eyes found you instantly, glass fogging slightly as his shallow breaths brushed against them, lips parting in silent hunger. “Do you like them?” you asked, voice low, velvety, coaxing.

“Yes,” he breathed, short, forced, the word heavy with want and need, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m going to use them to make you cum,” you whispered, deliberately, sultrily. “Then my mouth… and then…” You tilted your lips, letting the word linger, “…my pussy.”

His breath hitched audibly. “I—ok…” The words faltered, trapped in the roughness of his throat, hands still gripping the couch, hips trembling, quivering under your touch.

You leaned in, pressing your breasts around him, holding his gaze, letting your weight shift just enough that every movement drew a sharp gasp from him. His voice was raw and ragged, visceral, the sound vibrating against your chest as you moved with slow, deliberate rhythm. Your moans interlaced with his, soft and teasing, coaxing him higher, urging him to abandon control “You like that, baby?” you murmured, breath warm against his skin, teasing, insistent, rolling the words over him like a promise he couldn’t resist.

“Yes—fuck yes,” he gasped, thighs quivering, hips twitching under the pressure, body tight with need.

“Are you going to cum for me?” you asked, tilting your lips into a slow, knowing smirk. His eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat, then snapped open, impossibly bright and desperate, unable to look away from where he disappeared between your breasts. “Y-yes… don’t stop,” he breathed, voice ragged, uneven, unsteady. And you didn’t. You didn’t stop. Not for a second. You moved with rhythm and intent, coaxing, teasing, holding him tight, every motion punctuated with soft, deliberate moans, whispers, and sighs.

And then it came. His release was sudden, hot, unrelenting, shuddering through him, spilling across your chest and face. The sound, the sight, the feel, it wrapped around you both, thick and electric, leaving the air between you taut, humming with aftershocks of heat and intimacy. “That’s it…” you murmured, slowing just enough to let him ride it out, murmuring praise and soft words that tangled with his ragged breaths. “That’s perfect… so good, baby. Just like that.” Even after the tremors subsided, you lingered, hands brushing lightly, teasingly, over his still-quivering thighs, letting the warmth, the smell, the rhythm of his heartbeat, sink in. Every small shudder, every ragged breath left an imprint, and you knew the night had only just begun. 

You let him catch his breath, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched against the couch cushions. Slowly, deliberately, you pushed yourself off the floor. “Just watch, okay?” you murmured, a teasing, almost wicked smile curling at your lips. The words hung between you, light and soft, but charged with heat, and he swallowed audibly, wide-eyed, glasses slightly fogging from his quickened breaths.

You began to shed your lingerie, one piece at a time, making the act deliberate and visible. First the bra, letting the lace slip over your shoulders, the soft curves of your breasts revealed gradually, teasing him with every inch. Then your panties, sliding them slowly down your legs so that every movement was on display, a silent promise of what was to come. Each motion was deliberate, an invitation. Sunghoon’s breathing hitched, uneven and ragged, eyes dark and fixed on you, tracking every motion, every shiver of skin and curve of your body. He was caught between awe and need, anticipation and hunger, and you could see it in the way his pupils dilated, the slight tremble in his thighs, the way his hands flexed against the couch.

“I’m going to make you cum with my mouth now, okay?” you whispered, voice low, intimate, thick with desire. His nod was quick, desperate, almost jerky, and he murmured, “Please.” It was a plea, a surrender, and it sent a thrill through you. You fell back to your knees before him, letting your hands trail lightly along his thighs, feeling the heat radiating off him, grounding yourself in the tension of the moment.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” he sighed, fingers finding your jaw, threading through your hair, sending shivers down your spine. His voice carried need and wonder, almost disbelief at having you there, beneath him, for him. 

“Yeah…” you murmured, shy and teasing at once. “Is that why you’re my top tipper?” The question drew a flicker of surprise across his expression, quickly replaced by heat, by pride, by something urgent and raw that made your chest tighten.

“You’re expensive,” he said, the words deliberate, surprising you, and yet there was a heat behind them. “But it’s worth it.” Your hands found him again, slicking a single drop of spit over his shaft before your mouth descended, warm and wet, taking him in. A sharp gasp tore from his lips as your mouth wrapped around him, slow at first, teasing, exploring, tasting. You bobbed your head along his length, tracing with your tongue, letting him feel the wet, soft friction of your lips. He shuddered immediately, hips jerking involuntarily, fingers tangling in your hair, desperate to hold you closer, to feel every inch.

You moved with deliberate rhythm, lips gliding, tongue teasing, one hand exploring along the curve of his hips, the sensitive skin just above his thighs, letting every flick, every glide, every small suck send sparks of sensation through him. His breaths grew ragged, gasps spilling over each other, curses and whimpers mingling as he tried, desperately, to find control. And you let him lose it. Slowly, you pushed him higher, deeper, drawing his pleasure out like a master sculptor, savoring the shiver that ran along his spine at each motion. Your lips, tongue, and hand worked in tandem, coaxing, teasing, and urging him toward the edge. Each gasp, each moan, each quiver of his hips was music, a rhythm that you matched, prolonging his anticipation, stretching every second, letting desire coil tighter between you.

“Cum for me, baby,” you whispered finally, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, lips glistening, eyes dark with want. His response was immediate, sharp, ragged, a shuddering, desperate release that left him trembling in your hands and chest, hot and slick, every gasp, every quiver a testament to the pleasure you’d coaxed from him. Even after the tremors subsided, you lingered, hands brushing lightly, teasingly, over his thighs, feeling the subtle shivers that still ran through him. His eyes, hooded and heavy-lidded, met yours with a mix of awe and want, a silent, raw acknowledgment of the intimacy you’d just shared. The warmth lingered between you, heavy and electric, wrapping around the small dorm room like a living thing, leaving the promise of more still hanging in the air. 

You leaned back slightly, letting your fingers trail lightly along his abdomen, the curve of his hips, the sensitive places just beneath the surface, watching him struggle to catch his breath, watching the way his body was still pulsing, still hungry. You smiled softly to yourself, teasing him silently, enjoying the tension that crackled between you like static before a storm, knowing the night was far from over, knowing that every gasp, every shiver, every look was just the beginning of what you intended to explore together. 

You smiled at him, a warmth behind it that made your chest tighten slightly. It was a genuine, open smile, soft and tender after the whirlwind of pleasure you’d just shared. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, though the subtle hitch in his chest told you just how close he had been to losing himself entirely. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice quiet but sincere. For someone who had never done this before, holding up after two orgasms in barely twenty minutes was impressive, hell, even someone experienced might have faltered. Sunghoon met your gaze and returned your smile, one of those soft, shy smiles that carried a quiet confession: he was enjoying every second of this, and more importantly, he trusted you.

It wasn’t just about sex. It wasn’t a lesson, an obligation, or a performance. It was light, natural, and almost playful. The room seemed smaller somehow, closer, the space between you charged with electricity but somehow safe, easy, like there were no expectations other than the mutual pleasure simmering between your bodies. “If your pussy feels even half as good as your mouth and tits did…” he murmured, voice low, thick with want, “I might just die.” The words were so unexpected, so adorably earnest, that laughter spilled from your lips, musical and unrestrained. His confession hung between you like a joke, ridiculous and sweet, and the tension that had been there only moments before dissipated entirely.

“I’ve heard it’s tight,” you teased, tone playful, voice thick with intent, “so… buckle up.”

He flinched, a small groan of mock horror leaving him, but the humor didn’t leave his expression. “Did you just tell me to… buckle up for your pussy?” he laughed, incredulous, yet his eyes betrayed how much he was already imagining it.

“I guess I did,” you admitted, a giggle breaking through, letting the words linger like a dare. It was a game, and you could feel his confidence growing with every shared glance, every tease. You loved the way he leaned into it, shedding nervousness layer by layer, replaced with raw desire and a hunger that made your pulse race.

Rising from your knees, you walked toward him with a confidence he had seen countless times before, but tonight carried a different weight. Tonight, it wasn’t playful foreplay or a teasing experiment. Tonight, you were going all the way. You straddled his lap, bare heat pressing against him, and the sudden contact made your breath hitch, sharp and involuntary.

“I reallyyyy hope it fits,” you murmured, voice mock-innocent, grinding slightly, feeling him shift beneath you. “It’s so fucking big.” The playful teasing vanished from his expression immediately, replaced with that vulnerable, nervous look you knew all too well. “Fuck…” he whispered, words almost lost in the tightness of his throat, “don’t say that.”

“Why not?” you teased again, rocking against him, just enough to make him gasp. His eyes flickered downward as the tip of him brushed your clit, and a sharp, wet gasp tore from your lips.

“Fucking… you’re going to make me cum like this,” he hissed, teeth gritted, voice thick with need.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered back, hips lifting slightly to align him perfectly with your entrance. Then, without warning, you sank down sharply, taking him fully, hot and hard, every inch of him filling you in a way that made your knees wobble and your stomach tighten. A broken moan left his lips, and your own gasp followed, sharp, trembling, filled with heat. “You can cum inside me instead.” 

“So fucking full,” you breathed, rocking back slowly, giving him time to adjust to the sensation of being inside you for the first time. Every nerve ending sang with awareness, the friction, the stretch, the delicious weight of him pressing against your walls. You reached for his hand and guided it to rest on your lower stomach, letting him feel the hard outline of his cock inside you, pulsing and insistent. “You’re right there.” 

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, glasses fogged, chest heaving, voice ragged. You laughed softly, hands lifting to pluck them from his face, dropping them onto your own nose as a playful joke. The sight of you in his glasses made him flush deeper, adding a new layer of intimacy to the moment.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned, words strained, almost lost in his desperate breaths.

“Yeah? You like it when I wear your glasses, baby?” you teased, rocking slightly, hands finding his shoulders as you lifted and then slammed back down, setting a rhythm that was slow, deliberate, punishingly sensual.

“Oh my god…” His voice cracked, fingers brushing clumsily against your clit, sending sparks of heat straight through you. “Oh my fucking—”

You lifted yourself again and fell back down, establishing a rhythm, slow and sensual at first, skin slapping against skin, the wet, rhythmic sounds of your bodies filling the room. Your moans intertwined with his groans, building in crescendo, thick and heavy, and your body began to tremble in time with him. “Beg me,” you whimpered, leaning forward, gripping his hips, grinding down harder, pressing him further into your wet heat. “Beg me to let you cum.”

“Please…” His voice was desperate, raw, almost ragged. Fingers digging into your hips as he tried to anchor himself, “Please… let me cum. Please, please, please.”

“Are you a good boy?” you murmured, breathless, voice low and coaxing. “Do you deserve it, Sunghoon?”

“I deserve it,” he chanted, urgency layering his words. “Fuck, baby… please… I deserve it.”

“Okay…” you whispered, voice soft, teasing, commanding. “You can cum.” The words were a spark. His cock throbbed violently inside you, pulsing against your walls as he let go, shuddering and gasping, hot, wet, trembling, and leaving streaks of heat deep inside you. The sensation pushed you to the edge in response, high-pitched, shaking moans escaping as your thighs quivered and your vision blurred. 

You didn’t move immediately afterward, letting your bodies rest together, feeling his heartbeat slow beneath your chest, the warmth of him pressed against you. The room was quiet, except for ragged breaths and faint sighs, the lingering heat of your joined desire almost tangible. Every shiver, every small twitch of his body against yours, every soft moan left an imprint, and you felt a deep, lingering connection in that shared, electric aftermath. You let yourself linger there a moment longer, the memory of every gasp, every whimper, every broken moan wrapping around you both like a private, intimate thread. 

The next day you’d been pacing your tiny dorm room all afternoon, your head buzzing not from caffeine, but from the memory of last night, the weight of Sunghoon’s hands clutching at you like he might float away without the anchor of your body, the desperate, breathless sounds you’d coaxed from him, the almost startled wonder in his eyes when it was over. Every time you thought about it, about him, a warmth coiled low in your stomach, and you caught yourself smiling at nothing. It wasn’t just the intimacy, it was the way he’d trusted you, the way he’d looked at you like you were the first person who had ever really seen him. And tonight was supposed to be round two. A little different. More deliberate. A performance. Your subscribers had been getting restless, and you were ready to give them exactly what they wanted, with Sunghoon as your star. The idea of filming with him lit up a wicked spark in you. He’d gotten more confident, more willing to play along with the little teases you sent through text. This time, you wanted to push him, to show him just how much fun he could have.

Your hair was half-done and your outfit laid out when the knock came. You frowned at the clock, half an hour early. Sunghoon was punctual, sometimes to a fault, but never early. Still, you padded to the door, brushing stray strands of hair out of your face and grinning, already imagining his shy smile on the other side. You swung the door open mid-greeting. “Hey—”

Your smile fell so fast it was almost painful. “Oh. …What the hell are you doing here?” It wasn’t Sunghoon. It was Heeseung. Standing in your doorway, shifting from foot to foot like he’d run here but was now unsure if he should even be standing on your threshold.

“I—” he started, voice uneven. “I just… I have to tell you something, okay?”

You blinked at him, already feeling your pulse climb for all the wrong reasons. “Heeseung, can this wait? I’m actually—”

“No, I just—” He stepped forward before you could stop him, brushing past you into the room like he’d been given permission. “I have to say this now, or I never will.”

Your patience was fraying. The whole situation was wrong. “What the fuck, Heeseung? You can’t just—”

“I’m in love with you.”The words hit like a glass shattering in your kitchen, abrupt, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

“What?” It was all you could say, your mind momentarily frozen staring at the boy in front of you like he’d had pulled a rug from under your feet, and he did. 

He met your gaze, jaw tight, shoulders squared as if bracing himself for the impact. “I’m in love with you. That’s why I blew up at you when you told me you were going to sleep with someone else. I wasn’t mad about that—well, I was, but—” He let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for weeks. “I was jealous.”

Your mouth went dry. You had expected anything but this. “Heeseung…” you started, voice softer now, because despite everything, you did care about him. Just not like that. “I’m sorry. I—” 

“We were sleeping together for six months,” he cut in, voice breaking just enough to twist your stomach. “You have to feel something for me.”

You shook your head slowly, feeling the weight of each movement. “It’s not like that. It was never like that for me.” He was pacing now, hands buried in his hair like he could pull the frustration right out of his skull. “Are you in love with someone else?”

“No—” You started, the words barely leaving your lips before he’s speaking again, desperate and urgent. Like he was reaching for your heart, trying to latch onto it and hold on, no matter how much you didn’t want him to. 

“Then we can try. We can make it work.” His voice cracked at the edges, a plea hiding under the demand. 

“No, Heeseung.” The firmness in your voice surprised even you. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you. I only see you as a friend. Nothing else.” The words landed like stones in the silence that followed. He stopped moving, just… looked at you, really looked, as if searching for some sign that you were lying. But your face didn’t change, and eventually, something in his shoulders seemed to give. He nodded once, slow, defeated. “Okay.” His voice was quieter now. “Okay.” and it hurts you. It hurt you so bad because no matter how much you didn’t feel like that towards him, he was still your friend. He was still someone you had spent so much time with. 

You had to remind yourself that this was all a part of the agreement you both had shared, the rules you had set into place for a reason. He was breaking them, not you. “Really—Heeseung…i’m sorry—” the words fell on your tongue because without another word, another whisper or another breath he stepped toward the door, pulling it open. He didn’t slam it. He didn’t look back. He just left. 

The door clicked shut, and you stood there for a moment, still staring at it like it might swing back open. Then the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding slipped out of you in a shaky sigh. You were alone again, but the thrill of anticipation from earlier had drained completely. The thought of filming tonight, of coaxing Sunghoon in front of the camera, no longer set your pulse racing. Instead, all you could feel was the ghost of tension clinging to your skin like static. You hadn’t even felt yourself move to your bedroom until you sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the faint lines of light crawling in through your blinds. The air felt heavier than it should, clinging to your skin in that way it always does after a conversation you didn’t want to have. Your heart still hadn’t slowed from the collision with Heeseung’s words. You’d meant it when you told him you didn’t feel that way, but the sharpness in his voice, the disbelief in his eyes, lingered like smoke in your lungs. You hated hurting people, even when you knew you’d done the right thing.

You picked up your phone, staring at the black screen for a long moment before unlocking it. Your thumb hovered over Sunghoon’s contact picture, the candid one you’d taken when he wasn’t looking, cheeks flushed pink, hair a little messy, wearing that shy smile that made you melt without meaning to. For a second, you debated not calling. It felt selfish to reach for someone’s light just because yours had dimmed. But then again… Sunghoon had never once made you feel like a burden. The line rang twice before you heard his voice, soft, almost hesitant, like he was afraid he might be interrupting you.  “Hello?” 

“Hey,” you murmured, and despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips just from hearing him. “I’m… sorry, Sunghoon.”

He immediately sounded concerned. “Sorry? For what?”

“I have to cancel tonight,” you said, your voice gentler than you expected it to be. “I’m just… not feeling the best.” There wasn’t a pause of irritation, no hint of disappointment. Just warmth. “That’s okay. Really. Don’t worry about it.”

Something in your chest loosened at how easy he made it. “Thank you.”

“Is… everything okay?” His tone shifted, still soft, but now carrying that subtle undercurrent of worry you’d learned to recognize in him.

You exhaled slowly, twisting the edge of your blanket between your fingers. “No. Not right now. But… I will be. Eventually. There was a quiet hum from his end of the line, like he was thinking hard about what to say. Then, so softly it almost got lost in the static, “Do you… maybe want to have a movie night instead? Just as friends. No pressure.”

The suggestion startled you — in the best way. Your mind, which had been crawling with static and leftover tension from earlier, suddenly found something warm to hold onto. “A movie night?” you repeated, and you could hear the faint nervousness in his breath when he answered.

“Yeah. I can bring snacks. We can watch something dumb. No expectations. Just… keep each other company.”

Your smile broke through before you could stop it, and it felt genuine for the first time all day. “That… actually sounds perfect. Yes. Please.” His relief was almost tangible in his laugh, quiet and boyish. “Okay. I’ll be over in twenty. I’m bringing all the snacks I can carry.”

“Twenty?” you teased lightly, trying to ignore the way your chest was feeling lighter already. “What, are you teleporting here?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a shy grin in his voice. “You’ll just have to see.” You hung up with a goofy smile stretching across your face, the kind that felt out of place after the heaviness of earlier, but you weren’t going to question it. Sunghoon had a way of making the air feel easier to breathe, and tonight, that was exactly what you needed.

You’d changed into the comfiest clothes you owned, a pair of worn-in sweats and a soft oversized hoodie that smelled faintly of laundry detergent and your favorite vanilla lotion. The kind of clothes that made you feel safe, shielded from the heaviness of the day. As the popcorn began to pop in the microwave, filling the kitchen with that buttery, salty scent, you felt yourself starting to unwind. By the time there was a gentle knock at the door, you were already smiling without realizing it. You giggled softly to yourself, the sound foreign but welcome in your chest. “It’s open!” you called out, turning toward the counter to grab a bowl for the popcorn.

The door creaked open slowly, almost like he was afraid to intrude. Sunghoon stepped inside with that shy, almost hesitant smile that somehow never failed to soften you. His hair looked slightly mussed, like he’d been running his hands through it on the way over, and his glasses caught the light as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. In his hands, he held up a slightly crinkled grocery bag like a peace offering. “Uh… I, um… brought the snacks,” he said, his voice gentle, almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do but hoped it would make you happy anyway. You practically hopped toward him, unable to help yourself. Your mood, still dampened from earlier, shifted instantly, like the first break in the clouds after a storm. You couldn’t explain why his presence did that to you, and you weren’t about to dig too deep into it tonight. Instead, you just smiled, wide and real. “You’re the best,” you said, looking up at him in a way that made his ears turn faintly pink. 

“The popcorn’s in the microwave,” you added, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Go pick a movie, and I’ll be right there.”

“O-okay,” he replied quickly, nodding as though he was accepting some important mission. He shifted the bag to one arm and pushed his glasses up again, an endearing little habit you’d noticed he did when he was trying to avoid staring at you too long. Without another word, he padded into the living room, sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor before his footsteps softened on the rug. 

You watched him disappear around the corner before leaning against the counter, the faint hum of the microwave filling the otherwise quiet apartment. Of course, your mind betrayed you, flashing briefly to Heeseung, his smirk, his voice, the mess of emotions he left in his wake. But you shook your head, forcing that thought into the farthest corner of your mind. Not tonight. Tonight wasn’t about the tangled mess of that situation. Tonight was about comfort, and about spending time with Sunghoon in a way that wasn’t wrapped in tension and heat. A night free of the weight of expectation. You let out a breath you’d been holding, turning toward the microwave just as it beeped. 

You sank into the couch beside Sunghoon, your knee brushing his as you tucked yourself into the cushions. The movie’s opening credits flickered to life, soft piano notes filling the room, and then the title card appeared in faded, rainy letters. Twilight. Your lips parted in disbelief before a laugh burst out of you, sharp and incredulous. “Twilight? Really?” you teased, turning to catch the faint blush blooming over his cheeks. He didn’t look embarrassed, though, not really. More like a shy defiance, as though he knew exactly what kind of judgment that title would earn and had already braced himself for it. “It’s a classic trashy film,” he countered, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t care how bad it is, I still love it.” His voice cracked slightly toward the end, the smallest quiver in his tone betraying his nerves. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the teasing or because of you. 

Reaching over, you stole a handful of popcorn from the bowl balanced between you, tossing a few kernels into your mouth with an exaggerated shrug. “Fine,” you said through a playful chew. “As long as you’re team Edward.” That earned you a full-body cringe and a sheepish, guilty look. He didn’t even have to say it; you knew. You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest in mock horror before twisting so you were on your knees, facing him directly. “No way. No way you’re team Jacob. That doesn’t even exist.” 

He squinted at you, half-confused, half-amused. “What do you mean it doesn’t exist? It literally does.”

“It literally doesn’t,” you argued, leaning forward until your hair spilled over your shoulders. “Bella doesn’t even want Jacob. She always wants Edward. So how could there be a team Jacob? It’s not even real. He was never truly an option, only an unrequited love.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and then they hung there, heavy and suddenly sharp. Unrequited love. Your throat tightened. Your thoughts, uninvited and unwelcome, drifted to Heeseung. The memory of his voice from earlier that day, the confession, the raw vulnerability in it, pressed in on you like a bruise. 

Sunghoon’s brows drew together, his glasses slipping a little down the bridge of his nose. “You okay?” he asked softly.

You blinked, trying to shake it off, nodding quickly as you sank back into the couch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He hesitated, still looking at you like he could see straight through the lie. “Are you sure? I don’t want to pry or anything—”

“How close are you with Heeseung?” you interrupted before you could think better of it.

His answer came after a small pause, like he was weighing how much to share. “We’re… pretty close, I guess. But we’ve got our differences. He’s closer with guys like Jake and Jay.” He pushed his glasses up again, the nervous habit almost comforting in its familiarity.

You exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to the couch cushion between you before you spoke. “Before you got here, Heeseung showed up. Out of nowhere. And… he confessed. Said he was in love with me.” Sunghoon’s expression shifted instantly, first shock, then something quieter. Guilt flickered across his face so quickly you almost missed it. “No,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “Don’t do that. Don’t feel guilty. It’s not like that with Heeseung. Not even a little bit. It was… purely physical. Pleasure. That’s all.”

His gaze didn’t waver, though. “But… isn’t that what this is too?” The question stopped you cold. You stared at him, the words tangled somewhere between your ribs and your tongue. You wanted to say no, to insist this was different, that whatever was unfolding between you didn’t fit neatly into that same category. And yet, you couldn’t explain why.

“I—” you faltered. “I don’t know.” He nodded once, slow and deliberate, but didn’t look away. The air between you seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken truths. So you looked at him,  really looked. At the faint smudge on his lenses from where his fingers must have brushed them. At the careful slope of his shoulders, still hunched slightly like he didn’t quite know how to take up space. At the soft flush along his cheekbones, the one that deepened whenever you caught him staring. And he was staring, right at you, unblinking. You realized then that the way you felt with Sunghoon wasn’t the way you felt with Heeseung. This was slower, deeper, something that burned instead of sparking. You couldn’t name it. You didn’t have to. 

The space between you dissolved in an instant. You didn’t know who moved first, maybe you both did. All you knew was the sudden, inevitable press of his lips against yours. It wasn’t heated. It wasn’t rushed. It was something else entirely, charged, emotional, threaded with a quiet urgency that said please, don’t look away. You kissed him like you meant it, like the thought of not kissing him had never existed. And he kissed you back the same way, tentative but certain, his fingers tightening just barely against the couch cushion as if he was afraid to touch you too soon. The kiss lingered in the air even after it ended, its ghost still trembling on your lips. Your foreheads stayed pressed together, breaths mingling in the short, tender space between you. Neither of you said a word, there was nothing to say that wouldn’t feel too fragile, too heavy, too real for this moment. You simply stayed like that, suspended in a quiet that felt strangely infinite, eyes locked as if trying to memorize each other without speaking the reason why. His gaze searched yours with something unspoken, soft but intent, like he wanted to see past the noise of your life and right into the marrow of you.

It might have lasted a full minute, maybe two, before Sunghoon broke the silence, not with words, but with a mischievous flicker in his expression. Slowly, his hand lifted from the couch cushion, threading into the bowl of popcorn that had somehow survived the chaos of the last hour. Without breaking eye contact, he plucked a single piece, popped it into his mouth, and gave you the smallest, cheekiest grin. The absurdity of it cracked the tension clean in half. The laugh burst out of you before you could stop it, a loud, ungraceful, unpolished sound that bent you forward slightly. It wasn’t the polite chuckle you gave strangers or the restrained laugh you gave friends; this was the kind of laugh that ripped straight from your chest, the kind that left you breathless and maybe even a little red in the face. Sunghoon’s grin widened instantly, his eyes crinkling as he let his own laugh tumble out, low and warm, syncing with yours until it felt like the two of you were riding the same wave of ridiculous joy. 

You leaned back, still grinning, still trying to catch your breath, and he nudged the bowl toward you like it was some kind of offering, his own way of saying stay here with me, just like this. And you did. The night carried on without any fractures, as though that kiss had been folded neatly into the fabric of your friendship and left there to settle. You watched Twilight all the way through, the two of you throwing in sarcastic commentary between handfuls of popcorn, mocking the glittering vampire reveal, groaning over Bella’s questionable choices, and pausing once or twice so Sunghoon could argue his hopelessly wrong Team Jacob stance. When the credits rolled, neither of you moved, the room lit only by the glow of the TV menu.

Without a word, he queued up another movie, something neither of you had seen but both pretended to have opinions on. The warmth of the couch, the lull of the screen’s flicker, and the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you blurred the edges of time. At some point, you stopped tracking the movie’s plot. Your body relaxed, shoulder brushing his, and the world outside your little bubble slipped further away. When your eyelids grew heavy, you didn’t fight it. Neither did he. By the time the second film’s credits crawled across the screen, you were both asleep, slouched into the cushions, your head tipped just enough toward him that his sleeve brushed your cheek every time he shifted. The popcorn bowl sat abandoned on the coffee table, the last of it going stale in the still air, and the night settled over the two of you like a secret neither of you was ready to name. 

A few days had slipped by since that night, since your lips had brushed his, since Heeseung’s quiet confession had unsettled your heart in ways you hadn’t expected. You’d been left walking around with this strange cocktail of emotions swirling inside you: confused, yes, but also happy. Unreasonably happy, like you’d been let in on a secret no one else could see. Whatever it was between you and Sunghoon, it had shifted. Not in some dramatic, earth-shattering way, but in a subtle, unspoken current. It lingered in the way his eyes found yours more often, in how his voice dipped softer when speaking just to you, in the small smirks that seemed to belong only to you now. And you loved it. God, you loved it.

Which is why today felt like the perfect opportunity to turn the tide just a little further. Filming day. You had been counting down to this one in particular, not for the content itself, but for the surprise you’d prepared for him. He thought it was going to be a normal shoot, business as usual, but oh no… Sunghoon had no idea what he was walking into. 

The idea had come to you like a spark in the dark, something wicked and ridiculous and just suggestive enough to make your stomach tighten with anticipation. You’d gone all in. After hours of hunting through racks and endless online scrolling, you had pieced together what could only be described as the sluttiest professor outfit you could find, short enough, tight enough, and just absurd enough to make him blink twice. The skirt barely reached mid-thigh, black and fitted in a way that promised absolutely no safe bending over. A crisp white blouse clung to you, buttons straining ever so slightly where it tucked into the waistband, the neckline open just enough to tease without giving everything away. Around your neck, a slim black tie dangled loosely, and perched on your face were a pair of identical glasses to his own, the final touch that made you grin at your reflection like you’d just pulled off the perfect crime. 

And because you were you, the details mattered. Your hair had been brushed into sleek perfection, a swipe of bold lipstick painted on like the finishing stroke of a masterpiece. The heels were tall enough to make your calves tighten with every step. You didn’t just want to look like you’d stepped out of some scandalous roleplay fantasy, you wanted to be it. The confident, no-nonsense professor who had just spent hours “teaching” and was now ready for… extracurriculars. 

When Sunghoon arrived, there was no preamble, no lingering at the door. You caught his sleeve in your fingers and tugged him down the hallway like you had something important to show him, and you did. Your bedroom door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you inside with the faint hum of the webcam already set up in the corner. You gestured toward it, explaining in a tone that was casual but deliberate, “It’s only going to be focused on our bodies, nothing else. If it catches a face by accident, I’ll blur it. You know how I do things.” You saw the way he glanced at the camera, then back at you, the understanding in his nod. He’d seen your videos before, you didn’t have to convince him. He trusted you. 

“Still need to change,” you said lightly, as if it were nothing. “I’ll be right back.” Before he could say much else, you slipped toward the bathroom, fingers brushing the edge of the desk as you passed, just enough to press the hidden little button on your keyboard. The red recording light blinked to life, unnoticed by him. The thrill of it pulsed in your chest, a spark of mischief curling under your ribs. The bathroom door shut behind you, and you finally let the grin spread across your face. The bag with your chosen outfit waited for you like a delicious secret. You stripped out of your regular clothes and slid into the very, very revealing professor outfit you’d spent hours putting together. You leaned toward the mirror, fluffing your hair until it fell in effortless waves, then reapplied your bright red lipstick, the kind that promised attention and held it hostage. You smoothed your hands over the fabric once more, steadying your breathing. 

You eased the door open with deliberate slowness, the hinges protesting with a faint, high-pitched squeak that seemed to slice through the charged silence of the room. The dim light from the hallway spilled across your bed, catching the faint glint of Sunghoon’s glasses. He sat there waiting, hands resting stiffly on his thighs, eyes wide and unblinking. His lips parted as you stepped inside, his gaze tracking every slow, unhurried movement you made toward him. A grin curved your red-tinted mouth, slow and predatory, the kind of smile that promised trouble and dared him to try and stop you. “Mr. Park…” you murmured, letting his name drip from your tongue like honey, each syllable soaked in suggestion. You reached him in two languid steps, your hands finding his shoulders, palms warm against the cotton of his shirt. You squeezed lightly, nails grazing just enough to make him swallow, hard. “You’ve been… very, very bad.”

The words landed like a spark. You could hear the thick gulp he took, could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your touch. His breath came heavier now, rougher, tangled with nerves. “W–What—god—what is this?” he stuttered, voice catching, and the sound made your pulse thrum harder. His uncertainty didn’t weaken him in your eyes, it made him irresistible. This was your game, and you knew exactly how to play it.

“That’s Professor to you.” Your voice sharpened just slightly on the word, and your fingers slid upward to grip his chin, tilting his face toward yours until his gaze locked with your own, eyes alight, sharp with authority and simmering with need. His gaze dipped almost immediately, drawn helplessly to the sliver of skin visible where your white blouse gaped.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?” you purred, your breath brushing the curve of his ear before your lips found his neck. You placed feather-light kisses there, each one deliberate, leaving faint red prints from your lipstick on his skin like a trail of claimed territory.

“Y–Yes,” he breathed, almost collapsing forward in his eagerness to touch you, his hands seeking the curve of your waist.

“Yes what?” you hissed, catching his wrists mid-reach and pulling them away from your hips with effortless dominance.

“Yes, Professor.” The words came quick, obedient, and you rewarded him with a slow, almost saccharine smile that only sharpened the edge of your control. 

“Good boy, Mr. Park.” Your fingers threaded through his hair before sliding down over his chest, feeling the subtle tremor in his body, the heat under his shirt. Then, with a gentle but firm push, you guided him back onto the bed. You followed, crawling toward him with the unhurried grace of a predator, each shift of your weight making the mattress dip. He leaned back onto his palms, eyes locked on you, his pupils blown wide. There was calculation there, a silent measuring of your movements, but it was colored with hunger. The way he squirmed under your approach was intoxicating, each small twitch of his thigh, the restless flex of his fingers, the shallow, uneven breaths that told you he wanted you and no one else.

“I could help you with some extra credit,” you said softly, your hand sliding down between his thighs until your fingers found the firm outline pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants. You traced it, slow, deliberate, watching the way his mouth fell open, the breath leaving him in a short, helpless gasp. “All you have to do… is make me cum.”

You gave his cock a firm squeeze through the fabric, feeling the twitch in response, and his head tipped back against the pillows with a strangled moan. “Can you do that, Mr. Park? Can you make me cum?” 

His nod came quick, almost frantic, like a marionette’s head snapping forward on too-tight strings. The desperation in the motion made your pulse quicken. His hands gripped the sheets in tight, white-knuckled fists, chest rising and falling as if he’d run a race. “Then take the reins,” you said, falling back onto the bed, your hair spilling in a dark halo over the pillow. The hem of your skirt rose with the movement, revealing the black crotchless panties you’d chosen just for tonight. His eyes widened instantly, glasses fogging faintly, his lips parting in shock.

“What—”

“It’s your turn,” you interrupted with a knowing smile, curling a finger to beckon him forward. “Use what I taught you. And make me cum. Hard.”

Tentative hands found your hips, his grip firm but shaking slightly. He bunched the fabric of your skirt higher until it gathered at your waist.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, voice shaky with awe. “I could cum just looking at you, Mrs.” The faint whine beneath his words told you he was already teetering. His hands moved up, fingers finding the buttons of your blouse, and with one impatient pull, he tore it open in a single motion. Buttons clattered across the floor, the sound sharp in the still air. You gasped at the suddenness, your bra barely containing the swell of your breasts.

“That was naughty, Mr. Park,” you hissed, reaching for his wrists, only for him to catch your hands mid-air. His grip tightened, strong enough to make your breath catch, before he shoved them above your head and pinned them to the mattress.

“Shut up,” he growled, the sudden grit in his voice pulling your eyes wide. “It’s my turn to teach you. Now lay back… and take what I fucking give you.” A sharp, molten pulse of heat spread through you at the words. Nervous, hesitant Sunghoon had always been delicious, but this Sunghoon, raw and commanding, was devastating. 

His hands left your wrists, but you didn’t move them. Instead, you stayed still, arms stretched above you, watching him as he cupped your breasts through your bra, squeezing firmly, exploring. Without pause, he shoved the cups down until your nipples were bared to his hungry eyes. His mouth descended without hesitation, lips closing around one hardened peak as he sucked and nipped with a greedy edge. “Mr. Park… fuck,” you gasped, lifting your hips off the bed, silently begging for more.

“Please touch me,” you whispered, but he only chuckled, a deep, dark sound that rumbled through him and into you.

“Look at you,” he murmured against your skin, his voice curling low and taunting. “Begging like a whore.” One of his hands slid up your neck until his fingers wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your breath catch. 

You gasped—half from the restraint, half from the heat pooling at your core—and he grinned faintly before dragging his other hand down your body. He cupped you through your panties, his palm hot against your slick heat.

“I’m going to make you cum on my fingers,” he said, each word low and deliberate, “and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t speak. Understand?”

“Yes,” you panted.

“Yes, what?” His tone sharpened again.

“Yes, Mr.Park,” you breathed.

“Good girl.” His thumb found your clit, circling lazily at first, applying just enough pressure to tease without giving you the satisfaction you craved. You whimpered, hips twitching under his touch. Then his fingers slipped past the slit in your panties, pressing inside, one at first, curling upward, then two, stretching you open, and finally a third, filling you completely.

“Holy shit,” you sobbed, your body arching involuntarily as he scissored his fingers in rapid, relentless strokes.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his whiny tone flashing through for just a second before his focus returned. “Take it, baby.” Your orgasm was building too fast, the coil tightening deep inside you, your hands clutching the sheets above your head. Your legs trembled violently, the room spinning as wave after wave crashed over you. Sunghoon didn’t stop, not when you gasped, not when you whimpered, not even when you twisted beneath him. He kept going until you were thrashing, crying out, reduced to a helpless, dripping mess beneath him. 

He pulls his fingers out fast, like a punch to the gut. He doesn’t give you much warning, just a low, ragged groan as his fingers dig into your hips,Looming over you with that intoxicating mix of hunger and hesitation still warring in his expression. His glasses have slipped slightly down his nose, the thin frames catching the warm lamplight as he peers at you from beneath dark lashes. You can hear his breathing, sharp and uneven, almost as loud as the faint pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears. Before you can ask what he’s doing, his hands are on you again, sliding down your sides in one smooth, determined motion. He grips your thighs, and with surprising strength, he flips you over, guiding you forward so your hands brace against the headboard. The air is warm and heavy between you, carrying the scent of him, clean soap, faint cologne, and something muskier, darker, uniquely his. The sudden shift in position leaves you momentarily breathless, your bare skin prickling under the heat of his stare.

“Stay just like that,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and edged with command, but there’s a tremor there, a shred of disbelief at what he’s doing. You feel the rough drag of his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh almost reverently before one hand trails down the curve of your hip. The other comes up to the small of your back, gently pressing you forward until you arch, your spine bending into a perfect line for him. The bed creaks faintly under your shifting weight. His breath fans over your skin as he leans in, and then his mouth is there, hot, wet, and unrelenting, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the backs of your thighs, up to where your body aches for him most. You swear you can feel the ghost of his glasses brushing your skin, but he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls back just long enough to look at you, to drink in the sight of you spread and waiting for him, before he growls under his breath and pushes forward again.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his hands sliding upward until his thumbs press into the dimples at the base of your spine, holding you exactly where he wants you. “No idea how long I’ve thought about this…” His words curl into your ear like smoke, hot and lingering, making it impossible to keep still. His thumbs spread you open just enough to make you feel completely exposed, the air cool against heated skin. Then his mouth is on you, hot, wet, and devastating, his tongue dragging over you in slow, deliberate strokes that make your knees threaten to give out. The first touch is exploratory, almost careful, as though he’s savoring the taste of you, learning what makes you twitch and gasp. But the second pass is bolder, firmer, the pressure deeper, his tongue flicking against that sensitive spot until your fingers curl hard around the headboard. 

You hear the low, guttural noise he makes, half groan, half sigh, like he’s the one losing himself. His glasses slide even further down his nose, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t care if they fall entirely. One of his hands leaves your hip to slip between your thighs, his fingers spreading you wider as his mouth works you over, sucking softly, then harder, building an unbearable rhythm. Every few seconds, he pulls back just enough to breathe, to drag his lower lip against you before sealing his mouth over you again. “Fuck…” he breathes, his voice rasping against you, and you realize he’s savoring the sound of your whimpers, memorizing every shudder that runs through you.

Your knees wobble faintly as your body starts to rock back toward him, chasing the friction. His free hand presses harder into the small of your back, holding you steady as his tongue circles, teases, and finally plunges in deep. The slick, obscene sound of him eating you out fills the space, each movement of his mouth sending sparks up your spine. Your thighs tense, trembling as he works you closer and closer, until your breath is coming in uneven gasps, your eyes squeezing shut against the sheer intensity of it. He pulls back for the briefest moment, his lips wet and glistening, his breathing heavy. “You taste…” he starts, but his voice breaks into a low groan, and instead of finishing, he dives back in, hungrier this time, his tongue and lips moving with unrestrained need. The drag of his tongue, the hot pressure, the pace, everything conspires to pull you under until you can barely think, only feel. “This is the best pussy I'll ever have.” 

Sunghoon groans low against you, the sound vibrating through your core, his grip tightening around your hips to hold you exactly where he wants you. The mattress dips with the weight of his body as he shifts closer, his tongue sliding down to taste you deeper, then back up in a lazy, torturous path that makes heat coil tighter and tighter in your belly. “Sunghoon—” his name catches in your throat, breaking on a moan when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. It’s sharp, almost overwhelming, and he doesn’t let up, his rhythm steady and precise like he’s memorized every twitch of your body. His hands are firm but not rough, guiding you back into his mouth each time you try to lift your hips away from the intensity. 

He hums against you, a sound of approval or maybe need, and the vibration sends your whole body shivering. One hand leaves your hip to slide between your thighs, two fingers sinking into you with an easy, practiced motion. They curl just right, brushing against that spot inside you that makes your breath stutter and your toes curl hard into the sheets. The combination is too much, his mouth working your clit in that perfect, merciless rhythm, his fingers stroking you deep and slow until you can feel the orgasm building so hot and fast it makes your spine arch. Your hands claw helplessly at the bedding, your cheek pressing into the pillow as a desperate sound escapes you. “That’s it,” he murmurs against you, the words low and wrecked. “Let go for me.”

The coil inside you snaps. It rips through you in waves, your thighs trembling, your body clenching around his fingers as he keeps moving through it, drawing every last pulse out of you. Your moans dissolve into ragged breaths, your body going limp against the mattress while he licks you through the aftershocks, slower now, softer, as if easing you down from the high. When he finally pulls back, his lips are slick, his breathing uneven. He presses a lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh, his hands smoothing over you in slow, grounding strokes.

The bed dips under his weight as he shifts higher behind you, the warmth of his body closing in like a storm you can’t outrun. You’re still reeling, every muscle loose and heavy from the way he just pulled you apart, but Sunghoon isn’t giving you time to recover. His hands smooth up your spine slowly, fingers splaying as if he’s mapping every curve, every arch of your body. When he reaches the base of your neck, he wraps one large palm around it, not squeezing, just holding, reminding you he’s there, in control, guiding the tempo of what’s coming next. “F-fuck..” You whine. 

“You’re still shaking,” he says, and there’s a trace of a smirk in his tone, like he already knows exactly why. He leans forward until his chest is pressed to your back, his breath brushing hot against the shell of your ear. “Good… means you’re ready for more.” His other hand drags back down the slope of your spine in a lazy stroke, fingers catching in the waistband of nothing, your body bare and exposed to him, before sliding lower to cup you from behind. His thumb grazes over you with maddening slowness, just enough pressure to make your knees threaten to buckle again. 

You gasp “Sunghoon! Oh my god.” as you try to push back into him, but his grip on your neck tightens just enough to keep you still. “Patience,” he murmurs, the word a dark, velvety warning. He shifts his hips forward, letting you feel the hard, undeniable press of him against you, just the weight, no movement, until you’re aching and clenching around nothing. He keeps you there, poised on the edge, his lips brushing your jawline, then the sensitive spot just below your ear, kissing you with an infuriating gentleness that’s in sharp contrast to the tension he’s building. He’s acting like a pro and the shock of his dominance still wrings true through your entire body. 

He pulls back just far enough that his mouth can trail down your back in slow, deliberate kisses, following the curve of your spine. He doesn’t rush, pausing to nip lightly at your skin, to let his teeth scrape just enough to make you gasp. His hands are restless, one sliding around to palm your breast and roll your nipple between his fingers, the other stroking along the inside of your thigh before retreating, always retreating, like he’s testing how far you’ll chase the contact. When he finally positions himself behind you again, the tip of him brushes along your entrance, slick from his mouth and your release. He doesn’t push in, just slides against you, the head catching on your clit before dragging lower again. He repeats the motion, slow and deliberate, letting the friction make your hips twitch and your breath hitch. “Feel that?” he asks, voice low and rough, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave the promise of bruises. “You’re so wet for me, I could take you in one thrust.” 

But he doesn’t. He lingers, torturing you with shallow pushes that never quite go deep enough, pulling out before you can sink back into him. His other hand comes down to your thigh, urging it out wider, opening you up for him completely. The bed creaks with the shift, the scent of sex thick in the air, and still he teases, circling your clit with the head of his cock, letting you feel the heat, the weight, without the satisfaction of fullness. When you let out a frustrated sound, half a whine, half a plea, his low chuckle rumbles against your back. “I’ll give it to you,” he says, leaning forward so his lips graze your ear again. “But you’re going to take all of it. Every. Inch.” And before you can breathe, before you can beg again, he pushes forward, slow, relentless, stretching you until your palms press hard into the sheets and your mouth falls open in a breathless moan. 

He doesn’t move at first, just stays buried inside you, deep enough that you can feel every subtle throb, every twitch of him pulsing against your walls. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you still, letting your body adjust while your mind struggles to catch up to the raw fullness of him. Then he leans forward again, his chest pressing flush against your back, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear. 

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his voice low and deliciously rough. “That’s all mine.” He punctuates it with the slowest roll of his hips, dragging himself nearly all the way out before pushing back in with deliberate, maddening precision. The bed groans beneath you, each deep thrust forcing you forward into the mattress only for him to pull you back onto him again. He finds a rhythm that’s almost cruel, slow enough to keep you aching, deep enough to make every nerve spark. His fingers slide down your front, seeking out your clit, circling it lazily while he continues to move inside you. The combination is overwhelming, his cock filling you from behind, his touch sharp and relentless at your most sensitive point. You can’t stop the moan that slips out, but he’s quick to hush you with a sharp squeeze to your hip. “Not yet,” he growls, dragging his thumb over you in smaller, tighter circles. “You don’t get to finish until I say.” 

He pulls almost entirely out before slamming back in, the force making you gasp and clutch at the sheets. Then he settles into a harsher pace, his thrusts angled to hit that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your breathing uneven. His grip on your hips is firm, fingers digging in like he’s anchoring himself to you, and every time he bottoms out you swear you can feel him in your stomach. “Holy..fuck..sunghoon.” You sob. 

“God, you’re gripping me so tight,” he groans, his voice almost breaking with the strain of holding back. “Like you were made to take me like this.” He leans back slightly, giving himself the space to watch where your bodies meet, his pace quickening just enough to make the wet sound of it fill the room. Then his hand is on your lower back, pushing you deeper into the mattress while his other hand keeps working your clit, faster now, more insistent. You feel the heat coil low in your belly, the pressure building until it’s almost unbearable. He knows, he can feel the way you start to tremble beneath him, the way your walls clench tighter with every stroke, and instead of giving you the release you’re chasing, he slows again, hips rolling in deep, grinding circles that keep you on that perfect, torturous edge.

“Beg for it,” he says, his breath hot on your skin, the command making your pulse spike. “Let me hear you say it.” His pace is slow but devastating, every thrust a deliberate push into your core, every touch at your clit measured to keep you gasping, wanting, desperate. 

“Please—” The word rips from you before you can stop it, raw and breathless. Your voice catches, breaking as your cheek presses into the mattress. “I can’t—”

“You can.” His tone is low and commanding, threaded with a dark satisfaction. “You’ll take it until I say you can let go.” His thrusts deepen, slow and punishing, dragging along every tender inch of you until you feel like you might shatter from the inside out.

You try again, the plea turning into something close to a sob. “Please, I need it—”

He chuckles against your ear, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Need what, sweetheart? My cock? My fingers? You’re gonna have to be specific if you want me to give you anything.”

Your body arches against him, desperation making you shameless. “I need to come. Please—fuck—please, I’ll do anything.” You feel him twitch inside you at the words, and his thumb presses harder, the circles faster, crueler.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice almost tender despite the ruthless pace of his hand. “Beg for me. Let me hear how much you want it.”

You don’t even hesitate now, the need overwhelming every trace of pride. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you gasp, your voice shaking. “No one—no one’s ever made me feel like this. You’re perfect—please, please, please—” The words tumble out in a rush, your breathing ragged, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes from the sheer force of your need.

“Perfect, huh?” His thrusts quicken, finally giving you the rhythm you’ve been aching for, each one hitting that spot inside you with precision. “Say it again.”

“You’re perfect,” you sob, your nails digging into the sheets. “You’re so fucking good—please don’t stop—” And the sound he makes in response, half-growl, half-groan sends heat surging through you like wildfire. You feel him everywhere, in the press of his chest against your back, in the bruising grip on your hips, in the relentless rhythm that’s tearing you apart in the best possible way. Your vision blurs, the edge so close now you can almost taste it, but he still holds you there, hovering in that place between bliss and agony. “You can come,” he finally says, his voice thick and commanding. “Come for me, gorgeous. Let me feel you.” 

It crashes over you so suddenly it feels like you’ve been set alight from the inside. Your whole body seizes, back arching hard as a ragged cry rips from your throat, raw and desperate. The pleasure is blinding, white-hot and all-consuming, shattering through you in waves so fierce you can’t tell where one ends and the next begins. He doesn’t stop. If anything, he works you harder, his hips still driving into you in a relentless, unbroken rhythm while his thumb circles your clit with sinful precision. It’s too much, too good you’re already trembling violently, gasping for air, but he pins you in place with a firm hand on your hip, keeping you spread open for him, making you take every last second of it. 

“That’s it,” he growls against your ear, his voice rough with something primal. “That’s my girl. Look at you, so fucking beautiful when you come.” His words sink straight into you, molten and dizzying, the praise making your muscles tighten around him again. Your hands fist the sheets so hard your knuckles ache. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, thighs clenching around nothing, but he’s still there, deep inside you, thumb still working, mouth at your shoulder murmuring things you can barely comprehend through the haze. Every nerve feels hypersensitive, electric, your skin prickling with heat and pleasure until you’re sobbing from it, unable to stop the choked moans spilling from your lips. 

“You can take it,” he urges, his voice low and coaxing now, almost gentle even as his pace stays unyielding. “Give me another one. I know you’ve got more for me.” 

You shake your head weakly, though the truth is your body is already betraying you, winding tight again under his touch. “I can’t—” you whimper, voice breaking.

“Yes, you can.” His teeth scrape lightly along your jaw before he presses a slow, possessive kiss there. “I’ve got you. Just let go for me.” And somehow, impossibly, you do. The second release rips through you even harder than the first, making your vision go spotty, your cry breaking into helpless, breathless sounds as every muscle spasms. He groans low in his chest, hips grinding deep, riding you through it until you collapse forward, limp and trembling, every inch of you wrung out and aching in the sweetest way. 

He stills inside you, his hips slowing to nothing, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven bursts. For a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your mingled breathing, yours ragged and shallow, his deep and shaky as though he’s just run a marathon. His forehead rests against your shoulder, the heat of him seeping into your skin, and you feel the faint tremor in his arms as he props himself over you. Then, like a tide pulling back from shore, that raw, commanding energy he’d been wielding so easily ebbs away, and what’s left is… him. The real him. The one with the endearingly awkward smile, the one who shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose when he’s thinking, the one who stumbles over his words when you catch him staring too long. 

He pulls back just enough to look at you, still breathing hard, his cheeks flushed pink from more than just exertion. “Was… was that okay?” he asks, voice pitched lower than usual, almost hesitant. There’s a faint crease between his brows, like he’s genuinely worried you might say no. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, not mocking, but soft and warm, laced with disbelief that he could even think such a thing. Your lips curve into a slow, dazed smile, the kind that feels too big for your face, because you’re still trying to catch your breath, still trying to gather all the scattered fragments of your mind after what he just did to you. “Okay?” you echo, shaking your head slightly. “It was… amazing. You were amazing.”

His shoulders sag a little in relief, and you watch the corners of his mouth twitch upward. There’s a flicker of something boyish in his eyes, uncertain, shy, but before you can say anything else, you add, “And… I want to go again”  He laughs so genuine and unguarded it makes your chest ache a little. It’s not the low, teasing chuckle from earlier; it’s bright, almost startled, like he can’t believe his luck. “You do?” he says, grinning in a way that makes him look more like the bashful, slightly nerdy guy you know than the man who just made you fall apart minutes ago.

You nod, still smiling, still breathless. His grin widens, his voice dropping into something warmer, teasing now, though there’s a hint of awe in it too. “Then I guess… we can.” 

carefully, almost reverently, he shifts his weight and brushes his hands down your sides, guiding you to roll over onto your back. The sheets bunch beneath you as you settle, your chest rising and falling, cheeks still flushed, hair splayed around your face like a halo. His nervousness hasn’t entirely left, but there’s a softness now, a gentle reverence in the way he looks at you. This time, he doesn’t rush. His hands slide over your sides, gripping lightly at your hips as he aligns himself with you, slow and deliberate. Every move is filled with care, slow, deep thrusts that make your chest press against his, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that’s intimate and unhurried, the kind that makes every nerve ending in your body hum. You let your hands drift over his shoulders, tracing the curve of his neck, feeling the strength in him tempered by this newfound gentleness.

His lips press against your neck and collarbone, kissing and nipping softly, murmuring your name with a husky reverence. “God, you feel so good,” he breathes, voice trembling slightly with awe, not just from desire but from the simple, breathtaking reality of you beneath him. The combination of his reverence and intensity sends shivers straight to your core. Each thrust, each brush of his lips, is laced with both need and a careful tenderness. He whispers praise and small encouragements against your skin, your name, how beautiful you are, how perfect it feels to be inside you, each word a heady mix of admiration and raw desire. You forgot entirely that the camera was still rolling, that this was all to benefit each other and nothing else. 

His pace stays deliberate, each thrust slow and full, letting you feel every inch of him inside you, a delicious weight that presses you down into the mattress. But it’s not just about the physicality this time, every movement carries intention, intimacy, a sense that he’s memorizing you, learning exactly how your body responds. His hands never leave your hips, holding you gently yet firmly, anchoring himself as he lets his chest press into yours. You can feel the warmth of him, the subtle shifts of his body, the careful way he leans in close so that every brush of lips or breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine.

“God, you’re… so perfect,” he murmurs against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. The words are husky, broken, filled with awe, as though he can barely believe he’s here, inside you, touching you this intimately. Your chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, nails digging lightly into his skin as every stroke of him sends ripples of heat through you. He leans forward, lips brushing over the hollow of your collarbone, kissing and sucking in slow, deliberate motions. “You feel so amazing,” he whispers, voice trembling slightly with both need and nervous excitement. “I… I can’t get enough of you.” His hands slide over your sides, cupping your breasts with tender firmness before letting them fall to rest on your ribs, fingers brushing the sensitive skin there, teasing you with every touch.

You moan softly, hips lifting instinctively, chasing the subtle friction he provides. “Sunghoon… oh god… yes,” you breathe, breathless, heart pounding in your chest as the combination of his words and his steady, intimate rhythm has you teetering on the edge. “You… you’re so good… I… I didn’t expect—”

“Shh,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck. “Don’t think. Just feel. Just take it.” His voice is low, tender, and commanding all at once. He slips one hand lower, brushing your clit lightly, teasing in tandem with the deep, patient thrusts that keep you wound tight and trembling. Every movement of his fingers and hips is calculated to pull you higher, to bring you to the edge without letting you fall prematurely.

The first little tremors of release curl through you, your body trembling beneath him, legs shaking as he murmurs your name again and again like a prayer. “So beautiful… look at you… taking me so well,” he coos, voice thick and breathy, and the praise, combined with the intense, tender stimulation, sends you careening toward the brink.

You find yourself sobbing, moans spilling out uncontrollably as he keeps you on the edge, relentless yet gentle, letting you ride the slow burn until you can’t hold back another second. “I… I’m—” you cry, breath hitching, “I’m gonna—oh fuck, Sunghoon!” He holds you through it, keeping your hips pressed against his, his fingers circling and teasing until your orgasm washes over you in long, trembling waves. The sound of your own pleasure fills the room, punctuated by his low groans and murmured words of admiration, grounding you even as your body shakes.

When the waves finally subside, he leans over, lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss, arms wrapping around you to hold you close. “You’re… incredible,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours, his breathing finally slowing. 

Your own chest rises and falls rapidly, a weak, blissful laugh escaping you. “You… you’re amazing too,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair, tracing the warmth of his back.  And that night after Sunghoon left, you uploaded the video and watched as the comments and tips poured through. Sending Sunghoon a picture with heart emojis next to it, as you fell asleep with a smile on your face and only Sunghoon on your mind. 

The next week passed in a blur of laughter, stolen touches, and the quiet click of your camera coming to life again and again. You and Sunghoon filmed almost every day, each session an unspoken challenge to outdo the last. New angles, new positions, new little experiments, things you’d only half-imagined before became living, breathing moments between you. And your subscribers noticed. Every time a new video went up, your phone would ping with comments and tips. You’d screenshot the funniest or sweetest ones and send them to him, complete with your teasing little captions: “Look, they’re obsessed with you.” He’d reply with the kind of flustered emojis you could practically hear in his voice. It was late one night when the quiet of your dorm room was broken by the buzz of your phone. Sunghoon’s name lit up your screen. You were already smiling by the time you answered. 

“Hey,” you said softly, curling into your blanket.

“Hey,” he replied, and you could tell immediately something was different in his tone — hesitant, almost shy, like he was standing on the edge of a confession.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Your heart skipped, though you tried to keep your voice calm. “Okay… ask away.”

There was a pause. You could almost hear him pacing, chewing on the inside of his cheek the way he did when he was nervous. “Would it… would it be okay if I asked you out? On a date, I mean.”

Your giddiness was instant, bubbling up like champagne, but you fought to keep your tone teasing, casual. “Oh? You’re asking me out now?”

“I mean, if that’s okay—”

“Sunghoon,” you interrupted, a grin tugging at your lips. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” The relief in his laugh made your chest ache in the best way. “Great. I was thinking… something simple. Movie night at my place.”

You hesitated, a thought crossing your mind. “What about Heeseung?”

“He’ll be gone this weekend,” Sunghoon explained quickly. “Out with Jay and Jake. He won’t be back until Monday night.”

You bit back another smile. “Then I guess it’s a date.” You stayed on the line, talking about everything and nothing, favorite movies, the dumbest videos you’d seen that week, how he somehow managed to burn toast earlier that morning, until the rhythm of his voice became almost hypnotic. Eventually, without meaning to, you drifted off.

When you woke the next morning, your phone was still warm in your hand. The call was still connected. You could hear the faint, steady sound of his breathing on the other end. You didn’t hang up right away. Instead, you let the silence wash over you, smiling into your pillow. Something in your chest felt unfamiliar,  heavier, but not in a way that hurt. It was… warm. Secure. You’d never felt like this with anyone before. And in that sleepy, unguarded moment, you realized maybe what you felt for Sunghoon had already grown far deeper than just the spark of attraction or the thrill of the camera. So you decided. Tonight, during your movie night, you’d tell him.

You stood outside Sunghoon’s door with your heart pounding so hard you swore it might echo in the hallway. Your palms were damp despite the cool air conditioning drifting lazily through the dorm corridor, and your breath came in soft, uneven waves. This was it, the night you’d decided to tell him. No matter what happened, whether he smiled and pulled you into his arms, or whether things shattered into awkward silence, there would be no going back after this. You smoothed your hands over your outfit, more out of habit than necessity, then raised your knuckles and knocked. A moment passed, and then the door swung open to reveal him. Sunghoon stood there with that familiar shy-angled smile, his dark hair slightly messy like he’d been fussing with it before you arrived. His eyes flickered over you quickly, almost bashfully, before he stepped aside. “Hey… come in,” he said, voice softer than usual, almost cautious, as if he was worried you might not like what was waiting on the other side of the doorway. 

You stepped inside, ready to be greeted by the usual layout of his living room, but instead your breath caught. Candles, dozens of them, lined the coffee table and windowsill, their flickering glow painting the room in shades of gold and amber. The scent of roses drifted through the air, rich and sweet, not overpowering but undeniably romantic. Your gaze swept over the little touches, a folded blanket on the couch, two wine glasses waiting on coasters. It was beautiful. You had been in this living room what feels like a million times and had never seen it so serene. 

Your chest tightened. No one had ever done something like this for you. When you turned back to him, you found Sunghoon hovering just inside the doorway, rubbing at the back of his neck like he didn’t quite know where to put his hands. “I, uh… wasn’t sure if it was too much,” he admitted, glancing at the candles before meeting your eyes again. “I just… wanted it to feel like a real date.” 

You didn’t even let him finish overthinking it, you closed the space between you, hooked your fingers around the back of his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss. It was sudden enough to make him still for a half-second, but then he melted into it, lips pressing back against yours in warm, careful rhythm, like he was savoring the moment rather than rushing it. When you pulled back, breath catching slightly, you let your forehead rest against his. “It’s beautiful, Sunghoon,” you whispered, smiling so wide it almost hurt. “Really… you have no idea.”

He exhaled slowly, that shy smile pulling at the corners of his lips again. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmured, almost in relief. “I, uh… ordered food too. It should be here any minute.” 

You nodded, still a little dazed, before he gestured toward the couch. “Sit. Make yourself comfortable.”

You did, sinking into the plush cushions, your eyes still scanning the candlelight like you were trying to memorize the feeling of this moment. Sunghoon settled down next to you, and without hesitation you curled into his side, feeling the warmth of him seep into your skin. His arm came around your shoulders in a natural, protective way, and your body instinctively relaxed against him. He reached for the remote and flicked the TV on, and you were halfway expecting some dramatic action movie or maybe one of those tense thrillers he liked, but instead, the screen lit up with the opening scene of Twilight: Eclipse. You turned to him slowly, eyebrows lifting.

“Really?” you said, unable to hide the little laugh bubbling up in your throat.

He smirked faintly but kept his eyes on the screen. “What? We needed to finish the saga. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.” 

“I love it,” you admitted, shaking your head at him. You let yourself sink a little deeper into him, the candlelight painting shadows across his jawline, and thought about how badly you wanted to tell him everything, how this wasn’t just casual for you anymore, how somewhere between the teasing and the filming and the late-night phone calls, you’d started to fall.

And as the movie began to play, you could already feel the words waiting for the right moment to spill.

After a while the movie had all but faded into the background, the flickering light of the screen casting moving shadows across the room, forgotten in the wake of the way Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours. The remnants of your dinner, greasy pizza boxes, crumpled napkins, the faint tang of tomato and basil, were strewn across the floor, but neither of you cared. Your world had narrowed to the warm press of his body against yours, the way his hands roamed with an unhurried but desperate confidence, fingers dragging over your sides like he was mapping out the shape of you from memory. A low sound slipped from your throat as his mouth moved from yours to the curve of your jaw, trailing slow, deliberate kisses that made your pulse stutter. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer until there wasn’t a breath of space between you.

“You’re… really into Twilight, huh?” you murmured against his hair, trying for playful but your voice was already shaky, laced with heat.

He let out a breath of a laugh, the sound muffled against your skin. “I’m more into you right now.”

Your stomach flipped, and you almost hated how much that one sentence affected you. Almost. His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm against your bare skin. It was unhurried but charged, every small movement deliberate, like he was testing how far you’d let him go before you broke. You shifted, swinging a leg over his lap without thinking, straddling him as the kiss deepened again, this time messier, hungrier. Your lipstick smeared between you, the taste of pizza and something sweeter mixing in the back of your throat. 

“I really want you.” Your voice was a low, husky purr against his mouth, lips brushing his in the barest ghost of a kiss as your hips rolled lazily over him. The movement was teasing but heavy enough that he felt the heat of you even through the thin layers of fabric. His hands shot to your hips like they were drawn there, fingers digging into the softness with enough force to make your breath hitch. He gripped you so tightly that the whites of his knuckles stood out, and a strangled groan tumbled from his lips, raw, unfiltered, needy, as your slow grind pressed you perfectly over the shape of his growing erection. 

“Fuck.”  The word slipped out of him like a prayer, like something sacred and involuntary. He lifted his hips sharply to meet yours, rutting up with an unrestrained hunger that made your stomach twist in delicious knots. His movements were clumsy in their desperation, the kind that spoke of someone barely holding themselves together.

“Can I fuck you?” you whimpered, breath coming in soft, broken fragments as your grinding picked up speed. Your voice cracked on the word please, and the plea was genuine, uttered more from aching need than any real question. Sunghoon’s answer was instant. His nod was almost frantic, messy strands of hair falling into his eyes as though the mere thought of delay was unbearable. “You don’t have to beg, baby,” he cooed, voice low and almost tender in its reassurance, even as it carried that sharp edge of lust. “Use my cock to make yourself cum.”

You huffed a laugh, half breathless, brushing your mouth over his ear. “You’ve got quite the dirty mouth now, Sunghoon,” you murmured, heat curling through your words. “I wonder who taught you that.”

Color bloomed across his cheeks, but he didn’t look away. “I had the best teacher.” Your smirk deepened as you slid off his lap just long enough to strip yourself bare, the motions quick and impatient, your shorts and panties kicked to the side in a messy heap. He moved with equal urgency, yanking his pants down his thighs in rough, hurried tugs, as if the very air between you was too thick to breathe until nothing stood in the way. There was no pretense tonight, no slow lead-up, no elaborate game, just the pure, aching urgency of two people who needed each other like oxygen.

You climbed back onto him, bracing your palms against his shoulders. The heat of his skin burned through the thin fabric of his shirt, and you felt him twitch beneath you when you guided the head of his cock along your slick folds, letting it tap, slow and deliberate, against your clit. His breath caught, sharp, audible, and his voice broke when he spoke. “Oh, fuck, baby… put it in.”

You gave a slow, indulgent sigh, pretending patience you didn’t have. “Patience…” you teased, stroking him once, twice, feeling the way his thighs tensed beneath you. And then, in one decisive, fluid motion, you sank down until he was seated fully inside you. The stretch was overwhelming, a delicious ache that knocked the air from your lungs. “Holy—” You didn’t finish, couldn’t, because the tip of his cock kissed that deep, sensitive spot inside you and your body trembled around him.

Planting your feet against the cushions for leverage, you began to move, fast, relentless, a brutal pace that had your hips smacking down against his in sharp, rhythmic slaps. Sunghoon’s eyes went wide behind his glasses, his gaze locked shamelessly on the place where your bodies joined. “You’re so fucking wet,” he hissed, almost in disbelief, his hands gripping and kneading your ass like he could mold you closer, pull you tighter. “So—fuck—so tight, and oh—” His voice broke on the last word as you dropped harder, faster, driving him deeper with every bounce.

“You like it?” you asked, running your hand over his chest, dragging your nails lightly across the muscle hidden under his shirt. “You like when I ride you, baby?”

“Oh, fuck—yes.” His composure was unraveling, every ounce of control slipping with each movement. His palm came down in a sharp smack to your ass, the sound mixing with your moans, spurring you on. Your thighs burned, trembling, but you didn’t slow, didn’t want to. You were too close, too wound up, your moans spilling out louder and louder until they were obscene, shameless, almost deafening in the small room.

Neither of you heard the jingle of keys at the front door. Neither of you registered the creak of it swinging open, the shuffle of footsteps across the entryway. It wasn’t until a sharp, stunned voice cut through the haze—  “What the fuck?” —did the world outside of the two of you slam back into focus.

You froze mid-motion, body locked for a split second in something that wasn’t quite fear but wasn’t entirely shock either, more like your brain had short-circuited. Then, in a clumsy tangle of limbs, you stumbled off Sunghoon’s lap, half-falling sideways into the couch cushion beside him, heart racing in your throat. You yanked the blanket up over both of you like it was a shield that could undo what Heeseung had just walked in on. He was standing there in the doorway, red-faced, chest rising and falling like he’d just run up a flight of stairs, though you knew it wasn’t from exertion. His eyes darted over you and Sunghoon, sharp and accusing, lingering far too long on the obvious disarray of your clothes and flushed cheeks. You could practically hear the seconds ticking between you before he spat out his words, voice jagged and venom-soaked. 

“What the fuck?” His tone was low, but there was no mistaking the outrage threaded through it. His gaze flicked to Sunghoon like the sight of him made something inside him rot.“So this is the guy you’re fucking now? My fucking loser roommate?” Your brows furrow instantly, heat crawling up your neck, not with embarrassment, but with fury. You wanted to scoff at the insult, to throw it right back at him, but your mouth was still stuck between shock and rage. He kept going, each word twisting the knife deeper. “Didn’t want to be with one housemate so you had to jump to the next? Tell me, why are you whoring—” 

“Don’t.” The single word cracked through the air like a whip. Sunghoon’s voice, steady, lethal, and more forceful than you had ever heard it, cut him off clean. His posture was tight, shoulders squared, jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscles twitch. Even sitting beside him, you could feel the tremor of restrained anger radiating from him. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.” There was nothing uncertain about the way he said it. No hesitation. No hint of the shy, soft-spoken Sunghoon you’d first met.

Heeseung’s lips curled into something ugly, then he laughed. A deep, humorless, gut-wrenching laugh that echoed in the room like it belonged in a fight, not between people who once shared a bed. It made your stomach churn. You could feel the rage simmering in you, boiling over at the sound. How dare he? How dare he walk in, insult Sunghoon to his face, and then throw a word like whore at you like it was a weapon he had the right to use. “What are you, her boyfriend now?” Heeseung’s eyes were cold, unblinking. “She’s probably using you for your dick like she used mine—”

You shot upright before he could finish, the blanket falling from your shoulders. Your hand darted to the floor, grabbing your discarded shorts and pulling them on with clumsy, angry hands. “Fuck you, Heeseung.” Your voice was sharp, but your chest ached as you said it. “We had an agreement when we were sleeping together. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t have feelings for you. But that doesn’t give you the right to—”

“Doesn’t give me the right?” His voice cracked, loud and raw. “I told you I fucking loved you. And you go and fuck my fucking roommate—” You froze, the words digging deep, cutting past your anger. The weight of what he just said sat heavy in the air between you, but you forced yourself to look away, to stare down at your feet instead of the hurt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Heeseung,” you said softly, the words trembling. “But I love him.” It felt like your heart had leapt out of your chest and landed on the coffee table between you all. There it was, out in the open. Something you hadn’t dared to say until now, something you hadn’t even been sure of until it was already too late to take it back. The silence that followed was suffocating. Not even the ticking of the clock or the hum of the fridge seemed to fill it. You could hear the shallow hitch of Sunghoon’s breath beside you. Heeseung just stared at you for a long, still moment, his expression shifting from shock to something uglier, something like disgust.

His eyes flicked to Sunghoon, hard and accusing, before he spoke again. “I’ll have my shit out by the end of the day tomorrow,” he said flatly, like each word was being ripped from him. “You two deserve each other.” Then he was gone. The slam of the door rattled the frame, and the room fell into a silence that felt heavier than anything you’d ever felt before. You sat there, staring at the closed door, your pulse hammering in your ears, your confession still ringing in the air like an unanswered question. You could feel Sunghoon’s presence beside you, warm, steady, but you didn’t dare look at him yet. You were too afraid to see what was written on his face. Afraid that maybe you’d said it too soon. Afraid that maybe he didn’t feel the same. But you also knew one thing: it was too late to take it back now. 

You sit in silence for a few more seconds, the quiet swallowing the living room whole. It’s not the soft, comfortable kind of silence you sometimes shared with Sunghoon, this one was heavy, thick with the echo of Heeseung’s voice and the sound of the door slamming shut. The air felt colder without his presence, but not in a way you wanted. The space he left behind was filled with something else, something raw and trembling between you and Sunghoon. “You love me?” His voice cuts through it all. It’s not accusing, not even disbelieving, more like he’s trying the words on for size, rolling them around in his head to see if they fit.

It hurts a little, the way the question is asked. Not because he doesn’t deserve to know, but because the moment is still bruised with Heeseung’s wrath, his disgust. Somewhere in your chest, guilt twists, because you know Heeseung will probably never forgive either of you. But the truth is the truth, and it sits in your throat like something too big to swallow. “Yes.” The word leaves you simply, barely more than a breath. There’s nothing else you could possibly say. You did love him, you had fallen before you even realized it was happening, before you could catch yourself, before you could put a name to it. 

“I love you,” you say again, firmer this time, as if repetition will make the feeling more real to him. Your lips twitch with a faint, nervous smile before you add, “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I understand this arrangement was just to teach you to be more comfortable—” You don’t get to finish. He cuts you off with the sudden, firm tug of his hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him so quickly your breath catches. His mouth is on yours before you can even think, and the kiss is deep, overwhelming in its intensity. His hands thread into your hair, holding you there like letting go would be impossible. It’s desperate in the way it claims you, in the way he tilts his head just to angle himself closer, deeper. You feel him in your lungs, in your pulse, like there’s not enough oxygen between you to share. Your fingers bunch into his shirt, trying to keep yourself grounded even as the rest of you spins.

When he finally pulls back, you’re breathless, lips tingling, heart racing like you’ve just run headfirst into something you’ve wanted forever. And he’s smiling, soft, sure, and entirely unshaken by what just happened. “Don’t worry about Heeseung, okay? He’ll get over it.” You nod, still dazed, still trying to catch your breath. The weight of your confession still lingers in the air, but it’s not suffocating anymore, it feels lighter now, like maybe it wasn’t a mistake to say it out loud. His thumb brushes over your cheek, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. “Only worry about how the guy you love loves you back,” he murmurs, voice warm and low, like it’s just for you. 

Your chest swells, something bright and unstoppable curling through you. “Really?” It comes out half laugh, half disbelief, because part of you still can’t believe this is happening, that Sunghoon, quiet and awkward and perfect in ways you never expected, could feel the same way. He answers without words, pressing his lips to yours again. This kiss is slower, steadier, as if sealing something between you that doesn’t need to be rushed. When you pull apart, your smile mirrors his, both of you caught in that giddy, weightless place where nothing else matters, not the mess on the floor, not the storm Heeseung left behind. Just the two of you. And the quiet certainty that the story, somehow, was only just beginning.

(♬) - @beomiracles @biteyoubiteme @hyukascampfire @dawngyu @izzyy-stuff @1-800-jewon @xylatox @firstclassjaylee @teddybeartaetae @hoonjayke @princesstiti14 @seokjinthescientist @lillotus17 @yeonmuse @hoonieyun @s1rawb3rry @bloomri

[vampjaeyun]

after seeing enha im going through a severe jay brain rot… have you made his fic rec list yet im 😭

almost done should be up sometime this week 🤍 ur real asf cuz i’m gonna see them in LA this saturday and ik the enha brain rot gon go crazy haha

[vampjaeyun]

any links not working? i fixed “damn it nerd are you listening”

SIM JAEYUN FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted | *dark content warning: noncon, horror, yandere, etc...

word count lowers as you go down the list (not in order)

frenzy, part two [ stalker!jake, dark content* ] s,a

complementary - the physics of your body, part two [ brother's best friend!jake ] s,f,a

anti-hero [ golden boy!jake x golden girl!reader, friends with benefits au ] s,f,a

kiwi and layla [ outgoing!jake x shy!reader, highschool au ] f,a

volume 3 ☆ jake sim - the first love trope [ popular boy!jake x shy!reader ] s,f

no doubt [ idol!jake, friends to lovers au ] f,a

sim jaeyun — TOO FAST TOO BAD [ street racer!jake x cop!reader ] suggestive, f,a

under the table [ academic rivals to fwb to lovers au ] s,f,a

off limits: sim jaeyun, series masterlist [ brother's bestfriend!jake ] s,f,a

do you ever shut up? [ yapper!jake x listener!reader ] f

bruises [ engineering major!jake x nursing student fem!reader ] s,a

love, lies, and sim jake [ campus heartbreaker!jake x quiet fem!reader ] f,a

call me when you hate me less [ football player!jake x tutor!reader enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

to, future you [ secret admirer!jake x crush!reader ] s,f

rule number 1: don't fall in love [ ex's bestfriend!jake, fake dating au ] s,f,a

cunnilinguist [ bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ] s,f

breathe me in [ snake!jake x fem!reader, dark content* ] s

to believe [ ex!jake, reader's brother's wedding au ] s,f,a

i'll save you again [ spider-man!jake x reporter!reader, enemies to lovers ] f,a

hypersexual [ masturbation addict!jake ] s

forbidden attraction| sim jaeyun [ hufflepuff!jake ] s,f

hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait) [ youtuber/super down bad bf!jake x youtuber!reader ] suggestive, f

give me tough love [ omegaverse, alpha x alpha, one-sided enemies to lovers ] s

sticky ft.jay [ boxer!jake x fem!reader x boxer!jay, boys next door au ] s

power play, part two [ sub boss!jake x coworker dom!reader ] s

sweet little money maker [ stripper!jake x rich!reader ] s

bullshit [ idol!jake x blogger!reader ] s

golden boy! [ golden boy hard dom!jake x masturbation addict f!reader ] s,f

see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader [ nerd!jake x fem!reader, dark content* ] s

your little brother, my little secret [ best friend's little brother!jake ] s,a

Two Faced, One Heart: Who is Sim Jake? [ loser!jake, cocky flirt!jake alone with f!reader ] s

sims anatomy [ neurosurgeon!jake x cardio surgeon!reader ] s

erotic empathy [ virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, dating app au (written fic) ] s

movie star [ money-struggling!jake x camgirl!reader ] s,f

but daddy i love him [ badboy!jake x innocent!reader ] s,f,a

attic angel, part two [ obsessive stalker!jake, dark content* ] s

dare me to [ best friends younger brother!jake ] s

act now, think later [ strangers to friends to lovers, college au ] f

manchild [ cowboy!jake, strangers to lovers ] s

on the roof [ stranger!jake x fem!reader ] s,f

you hate me universe? [ interrupted before kissing au ] s,f,a

should've [ seemingly*one-sided love au, mutual hating & pining ] s

brisbane [ boxer-dad!jake x mom!reader ] s,f

69 [ roommate!jake, strangers to lovers ] s

I knew you were trouble, part two [ rich boy!jake, fake dating au ] s,f,a

undone [ boyfriend!jake, toxic male friendship dynamics ] s

under the cover [ librarian!jake x fem!reader ] s,f

little lamb [ killer!jake x fem!reader, horror au, dark content* ] s,f

I'm yours [ ex-boyfriend!jake, college au ] s,f

no face! [ camboy & bestfriend!jake ] s

maneater [ virgin!jake x jay's bestfriend!reader ] s

professional-ish! [boss!jake, workplace romance ] suggestive, f

touché [ academic rival!jake, one-sided fake dating? ] s,f

attention [ sick!jake x fem!reader ] s

no promises [ himbo!jake x nerd!reader ] s

no control [ first time au ] s

the devil wears prada [ idol!jake ] s

best friend's can fuck [ bestfriend!jake x sexually fustrated fem!reader ] s

love on you [ idol!jake x artist!reader ] s

bed chem [ nerdy!jake x fem!reader, established relationship ] s

big d*ck for dummies [ bigdick!jake, first time, established relationship ] s

hold your breath [ detective!jake, 1960s au ] s

teacher's pet [ teacher!jake x student!reader ] s

medicine [ sick!jake, established relationship au ] s

book lover [ needy bf!jake x reader!reader ] s

ride [ sub!jake, car sex ] s

wet the bed [ sub!jake x sub!reader ] s

use me [ boyfriend!jake ] s

damn it nerd are you listening? [ nerd!jake x hot!reader, established relationship ] s,f

rebirth [ boyfriend!jake, reconciliation, second chance au ] s,f,a

REM [ bestfriend!jake, wet dream au? ] s

all fours [ boyfriend!jake ] s

nonstop [ loser nerd!jake, virgin!jake ] s

nonsense, part two [ bestfriend roommate!jake ] s

say yes [ sub!jake, established relationship ] s,f

irresistible [ boyfriend!jake, getting ready for bed au ] s

stuffed [ cockwarming ] s

vocal jake [ boyfriend!jake ] s

[vampjaeyun]

wet the bed — sjy

— soft people fucks the loudest.

content tags: established relationship, sub!jake&reader, jay cameo, explicit content (smut) unprotected sex, multiple sex position: 69, doggy style, mating press. squirting, overstimulation. lots of whining and moaning, they fuck like rabbits :) MDNI. WC:2.4k

note: this is a request from an anon, hope u like it!

Who the fuck decided that two soft, submissive people in bed are automatically boring?

"Too vanilla," they say with wrinkled noses and half-laughs, like they know what happens when the lights go out.

You and Jake have been together for nearly five years—since the final months of high school, when you stumbled into something that felt a little too gentle to be real, too safe to be intense. Most people around you just don’t get it. They whisper that your relationship is sweet, sure, but stale. Predictable. Lifeless, even.

But they don’t know a damn thing.

They don’t know that you and Jake don’t need dominance or power games to melt each other down into quivering pieces. You don’t play roles. You don’t lead or follow.  You move, he moves. You're both responsive, both hungry, both gentle in ways that burn just as deep. It’s not about who takes control—it's about how far you’re both willing to unravel for each other.

If those assholes could see what actually happens behind closed doors, they'd choke on their smug assumptions. 

"Nghh—baby..." Jake's voice is slurred, barely even speech anymore. His face is buried between your legs, the heat of his breath searing against you, tongue dragging slow as he works you over.

 And fuck, you are gone, head thrown back, hips twitching, thighs trembling around his ears.

The only soundtrack is the obscene wetness of his mouth on you, your choked moans, and the blaring growl of an electric guitar seeping through the wall, his room mate, Jay’s latest desperate attempt to drown out the symphony of you and Jake destroying each other.

It doesn’t work.

Your ears are ringing. Your vision blurs every time your spine arches off the mattress. Your legs are shaking so hard they barely stay hooked around his shoulders. Your body is covered in bruises and teeth marks. Jake’s arms are clawed raw, red streaks down to his elbows from where you grabbed and dug in, helpless under the waves he pulled from you again and again and again.

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come, how many times you’ve done the same to him. It's a haze. A loop. An exchange of pleasure until your bones feel hollow.

You barely catch your breath before his fingers are inside you again, curling just right, his mouth crashing into yours, swallowing your moans as you clench around him and cum hard enough to see stars. Your hand slips between you, wrapping around him, stroking with messy urgency until he gasps into your mouth and spills across your stomach. 

Then comes the slow grind of hips in missionary, Jake above you, eyes glassy, sweat dripping down his temple. He pushes in deep, moaning into your throat while you clutch at his back, legs locked around his waist, and both of you fall together again. 

Vanilla, their ass.

The aftershocks haven’t even stopped vibrating through your bones when Jake rolls off of you, chest heaving, lips parted. He sprawls across the sheets, flushed and trembling.

Without a word, you swing a leg over him, straddling his face. He groans like a man starved as your thighs settle against the sides of his head, and your gaze lowers to his cock. thick, flushed, and still rock hard despite having cum four fucking times already.

You lean down, tongue flicking out to tease the head, your breath warm over his slick skin. His hips twitch instantly, a soft, choked whine escaping from under you.

“F-fuck,” he gasps, voice muffled between your thighs.

You take him into your mouth slowly, savoring the weight of him,  the way his whole body tenses beneath you. At the same time, you feel his tongue drag through your folds.

You moan around his cock, the vibration making him jerk. You grind back against his mouth, and he groans right into your cunt, tongue sliding in and curling upward. He hardens it, fucking you with it, slow and deep, as your hips begin to roll.

It’s a filthy rhythm—your mouth stretching around him, sucking harder, faster, your spit dripping down his shaft while he licks and licks and licks, tongue relentless, hands gripping your ass as he pulls you tighter against his face. Your thighs clamp down on instinct, not letting him breathe, not letting him stop.

You feel the familiar pulse in your core and the slight twitch of his cock against your tongue, he’s close, again. You squeeze him tighter with your lips, hollow your cheeks, and the sound he makes is damn near ruined. His whine hits a high pitch, hips jerking once, twice and then he spills into your mouth. You swallow it greedily.

Jake latches onto your clit now, sucking, and you are barely holding on, every nerve burning. Your whole body is tensed, arms braced against his thighs, cunt pulsing uncontrollably around his tongue. Your thighs clamp even tighter, grinding down until he can’t even moan, just hums and licks and loses himself.

Jake loves it—loves how wet you get, how you suffocate him with your thighs like it’s nothing, how your pussy clenches around his tongue. He loves the little tremble in your legs, the broken cries you try to stifle, the taste of your arousal dripping down his chin.

"Jake, fuck! I'm gonna cum!" you squeal, your voice shaking, one hand fisting around his softening cock, feeling it twitch, swell, harden again.

Your hips grind down one last time, helpless, chasing that final drag of his tongue as your orgasm hits. You cry out, body shaking above him, pussy spasming around his mouth. Your forehead presses to his thigh, gasping, and you barely manage to keep sucking him as your world shatters again.

Jake lets out a high whine, hips twitching upward into your mouth. He’s still so fucking hard, again. You can feel it, thick and throbbing between your lips.

He moves again as another orgasm crashes into the both of you.

Another orgasm.

And another.

And another.

You lose count. Time folds. The two of you are always going at it like rabbits, bodies slick and tangled, pleasure drawn out like it might never end. At some point you’re flat on your back again, back arched off the wet bed, sheets soaked with sweat and everything else, Jake’s mouth between your legs for what feels like the hundredth time.

You’re delirious, you feel like you are floating.

He pulls back, lips shiny, chin drenched. You barely get the chance to breathe before he’s kneeling between your thighs, jerking himself off with quick, rough strokes. His eyes are locked on your chest, on the rise and fall of your breath, on your wrecked body twitching with aftershocks. He grits his teeth, then pulls his cock free, aiming it at you.

You're hypnotized.

By the way it twitches. By the way his jaw clenches. By the way his abs tighten and he throws his head back with a broken moan as hot ropes of cum spill across your chest, painting your skin with another climax that somehow hits just as hard as the first.

And still, he's not done.

Jake leans forward, one hand smearing the mess across your breasts, mouth crashing into yours with wild hunger. His cock presses against your thigh, still hard and leaking.

"You want more?" he pants against your lips, voice hoarse, almost disbelieving at how far you both keep falling.

You nod, eyes wide, lips parted. Jake flips you over in one smooth motion, pushing you onto your hands and knees, body trembling beneath him. His hands grip your hips, pushing inside again, deep, slow, a stretch that feels impossibly full despite how soaked you are.

You both moan at once. And then he starts to move, hips snapping into you, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the room, drowning out even Jay’s music, which is now thundering through the walls in one last futile attempt to ignore what’s happening just a few feet away.

“Ahh, fuck, Jake, baby!” you cry out, fingers clawing at the twisted sheets as the rhythm builds.

Jake groans behind you, bracing himself with both hands on yours, pinning you to the mattress as he drives deeper, rougher. You love this position—God, how you love it. He finds every spot, angles his hips just right until you’re gasping, sobbing into the mattress.

“We’re so fucking good together,” Jake pants into your ear, his voice shaking with need, “Fuck.” His lips find your neck, kissing everywhere he can reach, hot, sloppy, open-mouthed, desperate to mark.

You tilt your head back blindly, catching his mouth in a messy kiss over your shoulder, tongues tangling, moans swallowed between breathless gasps as he starts to thrust harder, deeper, your bodies slamming together.

You’re clenching around him so hard, you can feel every ridge, every twitch of his cock. The orgasm hits, your breath catching, head lolling forward as heat floods you from the inside out. "Fuck!"

Jake keeps going through it, keeps thrusting through your high, refusing it to end. Your hips instinctively push back against him, your eyes roll back, jaw slack, pleasure crackling through every nerve.

“F-fuck, I—shit,” Jake chokes out, repositioning behind you with a sharp slap to your ass that makes your whole body jolt. He watches it jiggle with a low groan, hips snapping forward again and again. Every thrust knocks the breath from your lungs, and your arms finally give out.

You collapse forward, face buried in the soaked mattress, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, your body slack and trembling. Completely, utterly fucked out.

“B-b-baby,” Jake stammers, leaning over you again, his chest slick and warm against your back.

You feel his arms slide beneath you, one curling tightly around your waist, the other slipping under your body to knead your breast in slow, circular motions. He’s still thrusting, slower now, but no less intense. You feel every inch, every grind of his hips, his cock dragging against your overstimulated walls as he pants against your ear.

“You can take another one for me?” he whines, voice cracking into a whisper. “P-please? Pretty—pretty please?” 

You moan weakly, unable to find words, only nodding as your fingers twitch into the sheets. You’re half-asleep, fucked so deep into the mattress your limbs barely move but Jake’s still moving, still inside you.

“Don’t s-sleep, nghh, baby, fuck,” he breathes, nuzzling into your nape, teeth grazing the sweat-slick skin there before sinking in gently, biting down as his hips start to pick up again.

The pleasure's too much now, tangled with pain and pressure until your body doesn’t know the difference. You're a trembling mess, whimpering, twitching, your muscles weak from everything he's already wrung out of you.

You don't know how he's still strong enough to shift your limp body, but suddenly you're on your back, legs pushed up and pinned high beside your shoulders. His hands curl behind your knees, holding you wide open as he sinks into you again with no warning.

He grunts as he slides home, balls-deep, moaning loudly, eyes locked onto your face, drinking every twitch, every gasp, every flutter of your lashes. His hips start pounding again, relentless, slapping into your soaked cunt with wet, brutal rhythm.

Your mouth falls open, lips slack, eyes half-lidded. You can't even speak.

“Baby! L-love you—ahhh!” Jake cries out. One of his hands slips down, thumb pressing to your clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles.

You twitch violently beneath him, chest heaving, body barely holding together.

Even with your consciousness slipping—your mind half-blacked out from pleasure and fatigue—you feel it again. That same heat blooming low in your belly. Your legs are burning in the mating press, your lungs clawing for air, your head spinning.

“J-Jake, w-wait!” you sob, shaking your head from side to side, voice cracked, but his thrusts only get harder, his thumb moving faster, and ruthless.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop—just one more,” he begs, almost delirious.

“FUCK!” you scream,  fingers twisting the sheets, your body shaking as it hits you. “Fuckfuckfuck!” you shriek as your entire core contracts violently. Your back arches. Your vision whites out. You feel the gush of hot liquid pulsing from your cunt, soaking the sheets, his pelvis, everything.

Jake groans loud and deep. But he doesn't stop. He keeps moving, keeps rubbing, his thumb grinding your clit as you cry out and shake under him. Your legs jerk in his grip, body trying to retreat, but he doesn’t let go.

Your voice cracks—"No! No more!"—but it's lost in the noise.  

“O-one more, baby, please,” he moans as he leans over you again, his body trembling, lips brushing your ear.

Your scream rises again as his cock drags through your soaked walls, now slick with your release. You’re squeezing him so tight he’s nearly frozen in place. His eyes roll back, mouth dropping open.

“Jesus Christ, people! Tone it down!” Jay roars from the other side of the wall, banging his fist hard against it, rattling the drywall. His voice is muffled, furious, but distant and irrelevant.

Jake doesn’t even blink. He’s too far gone. His hands tighten around your thighs as he slams forward, again and again, slick friction loud and obscene, the slap of your bodies echoing through the room.

“Last one,” he gasps. “Fuuuuck, baby, fuck—!”

You scream again, nails digging into his wrists as your body explodes for the final time—another hot gush forced from your cunt, a violent surge that splashes his abdomen and thighs. Jake throws his head back and howls, the tension in his spine snapping as you clamp down so hard around his cock it punches the orgasm straight out of him.

He cums inside you, trembling, moaning, his voice broken and high as he spills deep, cock twitching wildly, over and over. His whole body quakes as he presses into you, emptying himself in ragged pulses that stretch on and on.

By the time it ends, you're both shaking. The room is thick with heat and the sharp, musky scent of sex, every surface damp with sweat, slick, and release.

Jake pulls out slowly, carefully, and even that soft withdrawal makes you both moan. The two of you are oversensitive. 

Jake collapses beside you, arms immediately wrapping around your waist, pulling you in close. His face buries in the crook of your neck, lips pressing the faintest kiss to your skin.

You curl into him instinctively, legs tangled, your body heavy and sore but warm in the aftermath, without another word, you both drift under—naked, tangled in each other’s arms, unconscious on a mattress you’ve completely wet the bed in.

[vampjaeyun]

he loves the squirters fr 🙂‍↕️‼️

[vampjaeyun]

just reread this and i’m cringing so bad we can tell this is not edited or proofread girl

FWB SUNGHOON !

very smutty so (18+), why is this so long (idk when to shut up)

p.s. checking in to let yall know i’m alive #survivalreport i also wrote this in like 15 min so not proofread… enjoy! ( ◠‿◠ )

—

fwb!sunghoon who is in the same friend group as your dear roommate, jungwon

fwb!sunghoon who you meet for the first time, and you’re more aware of his presence than any of the other new faces

fwb!sunghoon who you lock eyes with multiple times throughout the evening with said friend group— yet he doesn’t utter a word to you

fwb!sunghoon who you begin to see more often at the apartment

fwb!sunghoon who you bump into at the doorway of the bathroom with a towel draped around his waist— fresh water droplets decorating a path from his neck down to his v-line. God, you try your hardest not to look further down

fwb!sunghoon who still does not speak directly to you, but the corner of his lips lift. the fucking audacity to smirk at you. the fucking audacity to smirk at you looking like that

fwb!sunghoon who watches you heating leftovers in the kitchen with a baby tee and boy shorts as jungwon walks with him to his room. He notices you’ve gone without a bra, and shakes away the perverted thoughts. But now that he’s witnessed the scene, he can’t seem to discard the image.

fwb!sunghoon who pulls up the discarded blanket up to your shoulders when he sees a movie playing and your sleeping form on the couch

fwb!sunghoon who loves your humor and the millions of questions jungwon refuses to entertain. He wants to entertain you— But doesn’t know how to start.

fwb!sunghoon who drinks a little too much at a party, and holds no fear in his body

fwb!sunghoon who approaches you and flirts with you as if this wasn’t the first conversation exchanged between the two of you

fwb!sunghoon who’s caught off guard when you automatically reciprocate his salacious flirting. although, his worries are disregarded almost instantly in his drunken state

fwb!sunghoon who fucks you inside a bathroom at said party, tasting you, fingering you, and bending you over the sink until both of your bodies give out

fwb!sunghoon who is attached to your hip after that night

fwb!sunghoon whose palm roughly covers your mouth to prevent moans from coming out in the crowded movie theater

fwb!sunghoon who whispers sweet nothings in your ear while his cock roughly pounds into your pussy and you plead, “F-faster! Fuck! Please Hoon.”

fwb!sunghoon who loves that you’re a pillow princess, making sure to wrap his slender fingers around your throat— pushing your head further into the pillow

fwb!sunghoon who fully moans every time his name exits your lips like a mantra

fwb!sunghoon whose pumping three fingers in and out of you underneath the blanket as a scary movie plays, while his friends on opposite sides of the couch remain clueless

fwb!sunghoon who fucks you the way you beg him to, even though he’s too sleepy to function

fwb!sunghoon whose tongue expertly glides between your folds, dipping into your pussy, making sure to suck at all the spots that has your eyes rolling back as his way of saying “good morning”

fwb!sunghoon who continues to do so underneath the comforter, even when jungwon knocks on your door. “Let him in baby. You can be quiet, can you? Don’t you want to cum?”

fwb!sunghoon whose fist instinctively slams against the table as you palm his crotch underneath the table at dinner with Jake and Jay.

fwb!sunghoon who stays up all night to play video games but ultimately mutes his mic because of the way you’re sat innocently underneath the desk, sucking his tip and taking him until he’s in the back of your throat

fwb!sunghoon who loves the way you gasp when his tongue comes into contact with your own

fwb!sunghoon who loves nothing more than sloppily making out with you— especially when you hump against his clothed cock until you’re both unraveling.

fwb!sunghoon who loves when you nuzzle your face against his neck, trailing wet kisses all the way to a specific spot below his ear

fwb!sunghoon whose cock twitches when your teeth graze his thick adam’s apple

fwb!sunghoon who sleeps with an arm draped around your waist and your bare back flush against his chest almost every night

fwb!sunghoon who admires the way you talk with your hands

fwb!sunghoon who loves to show you off even though you’re not dating

fwb!sunghoon who refers to you as “my girl”

fwb!sunghoon who adores your laugh

fwb!sunghoon who dozes off while studying beside you

fwb!sunghoon who visits you at work and drives you home after your shift

fwb!sunghoon who is speechless when you admit your feelings to him

fwb!sunghoon who is frozen at the doorway after tears run down your cheeks and you bolt out his place

fwb!sunghoon who doesn’t eat or sleep for days

fwb!sunghoon who feels sick to his stomach

fwb!sunghoon who still smells you on his sheets and pillows

fwb!sunghoon whose jaw clenches at the sight of you dancing and grinding on a familiar face at a party

fwb!sunghoon whose heart shatters when jungwon mentions your new relationship with yeonjun

fwb!sunghoon who doesn’t know that it’s a lie

fwb!sunghoon who confronts you at two a.m. “Does he make you happy? Does he fuck you as well as I do?”

fwb!sunghoon who wakes up to see the other side of the bed empty

fwb!sunghoon who doesn’t know a good thing until it’s gone.

—

AN: srry guys 😅

[vampjaeyun]

HOW I MET SUNGHOON

→ pairing: downbad!sunghoon x fem!reader // ִromcom· friends to lovers · slow burn · smut ࣪· crack → synopsis: sunghoon was always the kind of guy who fell too hard, too fast, the type who thought a shared playlist meant commitment and that liking the same sandwich was fate. spoiler: it never worked out. well, that’s until you showed up. he didn’t mean to fall for you. you were just his friend. the funny, smart, annoyingly pretty friend. it wasn’t supposed to turn into heart flutters and late-night guitar practice. but somewhere between friendly teasing, shared drinks, and the world’s longest friendzone, sunghoon realized he might actually be in love. oops! → word count: 28k // warnings: mdni!! contains explicit content, praising kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, switch dynamics, dirty talk / explicit language, face riding

sunghoon was always that type of hopeless romantic guy. not in a write a poem under the rain kind of way, but he used to believe in signs: like if a girl knew all the words to a blink-182 song, she was definitely his soulmate. one time in college, he thought a cashier was in love with him because she gave him an extra ketchup packet. another time, he made a mixtape for a girl he barely knew just because she said she liked the strokes. he even labeled it “volume 1,” fully expecting a relationship to follow. it didn’t.

he was that guy who said “i miss you” before it made sense and thought hand-holding in public was sacred. the guy who overanalyzed text punctuation. the guy who once bought matching mugs after a fourth date because she laughed at his seinfeld reference. spoiler alert: she ghosted him the next day, and he kept the mugs anyway. because love, right? yeah, that’s it. that was sunghoon.

well, until he met you.

but, before he met you, sunghoon was stuck in that loop of almosts and maybes and "it’s not you, it’s me" texts sent at 2 a.m. he had a tendency to turn background characters into main characters in his head. if someone asked for directions on the subway, he’d spend the next hour wondering if he should’ve asked for her number. maybe she liked coffee shops. maybe they could’ve gone to the one on 8th street. maybe they would’ve fallen in love over cappuccinos and sarcasm. maybe he ruined it.

he was, in short, delusional in the most innocent way. and weirdly proud of it, like it was his thing. like being a hopeless romantic was just part of the package, along with his obsession with vintage sneakers, his habit of alphabetizing his dvds, pokémon go and his belief that fate always showed up fashionably late.

he had no idea that the reason would be you.

sunghoon and jay had been living together for a little over a year now. the apartment wasn’t big, and it definitely wasn’t quiet (mostly because it sat right above a bar that played the same six songs on loop every night) but it had decent water pressure, a couch that technically belonged to jungwon, and a fridge that made an odd noise every time someone closed the bathroom door. but they made it work. jay was the cleaner one, sunghoon was the one who always left his hoodie on the kitchen chair, and somehow they found a balance.

they didn’t talk about feelings much, not directly. but every now and then, usually when one of them was eating something straight from the bag or halfway through a bad tv rerun, the topic would come up. on this particular night, sunghoon was lying on the couch with his legs stretched out and one hand buried in an open bag of cereal. he hadn’t even bothered with milk. the tv was on, volume too low to follow, but he wasn’t really paying attention anyway.

“i think i’m gonna die alone,” he said, like he was talking about the weather.

jay, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with his laptop open, didn’t look up. “what happened now?”

“nothing happened. that’s the problem. i haven’t been on a date in, like, four months. maybe five.”

jay looked at him, unimpressed. “you say that like it’s a medical emergency.”

“it kind of is,” sunghoon said, sitting up just enough to gesture with the cereal bag. 

jay snorted. “what happened to that girl from the climbing gym? the one who asked for your number after you slipped off the wall?”

sunghoon stared at the ceiling. “we went out once. she spent the entire time telling me about her ex who lives in canada and how he doesn’t believe in monogamy but they’re spiritually married anyway.”

jay blinked. “okay. next. what about the girl from the bookstore?” jay added, trying again.

“oh, right,” sunghoon said, already regretting the memory. “we had a good first date. coffee, conversation, the whole thing. second date, she brought her roommate. didn’t warn me or anything.”

“why?”

“she said she wanted a second opinion on me.”

jay closed his laptop. “man.”

“i know.” there was a short pause. sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch and let out a slow breath through his nose. he wasn’t trying to be dramatic, he was just tired of the effort it took to get halfway close to something that never turned out to be anything at all. “maybe i peaked romantically at seventeen,” he muttered.

“no one peaks at seventeen,” jay said.

“you did.”

“that’s different,” jay shrugged. “i’m hot.”

jay had been in a relationship for years, since he was 17. like proper long-term, holiday-travel-planning, toothbrush-in-the-bathroom relationship. it was steady, and sunghoon respected that, even if sometimes it made his own track record feel like a string of blurry first dates and weird storytimes.

sunghoon shifted on the couch, grabbing another handful of cereal from the open bag on his lap. “you know what’s sad? the only consistent interaction i’ve had with a woman lately is with some random pokémon go user who keeps stealing the gym at the end of our street.”

jay glanced over, already amused. “what?”

“i’ve been holding it down for team valor since, like, last year. and every night—every single night—this person comes and knocks me out. same user. snoopygirl_98. blue team, obviously. i think she hates me.”

jay raised an eyebrow. “maybe she’s flirting.”

“by humiliating me in front of a 7-eleven?”

“some people flirt differently.”

sunghoon let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the couch. “i just want to feel something again.”

jay reached for the remote. “you wanna go downstairs later? to the bar? maybe someone down there has a thing for emotionally exhausted guys.”

“you think it’s my moment?”

“statistically, you’re due.”

sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he didn’t believe in statistics, he believed in luck. and that night, for the first time in a while, he was about to have some. because you were downstairs. 

sunghoon went to the bar with jay mostly out of stubbornness. he said he didn’t feel like going, said it was a weeknight, said the chances of anything interesting happening were basically zero, but still changed out of his old hoodie and put on one that didn’t smell like takeout. the bar was familiar, and warm in the way places start to feel when you’ve been going for long enough that the guy behind the counter knows your usual.

they found jake by the pool table, already halfway through his drink. he turned before they even said anything and grinned like he’d been expecting them. sunghoon gave jay a look and followed them toward one of the tables near the back, where a few other familiar faces from college were already sitting, people they didn’t see that often anymore but still shared enough history with to make small talk easy.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were sitting to the left of jake, stirring your drink with a straw and laughing at something someone had just said. it wasn’t loud or dramatic or exaggerated, but it caught his attention anyway. there was something about how comfortable you looked at the table, how you weren’t trying too hard to be part of the conversation and still somehow felt like the center of it.

he stopped walking for half a second before jay gave him a light push on the shoulder to keep moving. jake started introducing people in his usual scattered way, pointing quickly and not really giving anyone time to react. “this is y/n—she’s a friend from my econ class back in the day—and this is sunghoon, he used to live with me first year. you two haven’t met, right?”

sunghoon nodded once and said a quick “hey,” followed by a smile that he hoped looked normal. you replied with a polite “hey” back, and that was it. a few seconds, not much, but enough for him to realize he was already too aware of how close you were sitting to jake, how often you looked at him when you laughed, how your hand moved when you adjusted your glass.

he sat across the table next to jay, didn’t say much for a while. mostly listened, nodded, laughed when it made sense. but every few minutes his eyes would flick back to you, casually, like he wasn’t really paying attention, even though he absolutely was. there was something about you that made him feel quieter than usual. not nervous, but just unsure of what to do with himself.

about fifteen minutes later, heeseung showed up. he walked in already smiling, already halfway into the group and he greeted you with a hug (longer than a casual one) and slid into the seat next to you without asking. you two started talking right away, and it didn’t look like small talk. sunghoon watched for a few seconds longer than he meant to, then looked away and focused on his drink. he didn’t know your story, maybe you and heeseung were just close, maybe it was something else. he wasn’t going to ask, of course. but he was already wondering if he’d missed his window.

the next few days after that night were... something else. jay didn’t let it go. at least twice a day, he’d throw a casual question over from the other room or while making coffee, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “so, you liked her, didn’t you?” 

and sunghoon would roll his eyes and try to sound way too cool for someone who’d clearly been thinking about you more than he wanted to admit. “what, no. she seemed nice. and i mean, she’s cute. i have eyes, i am aware.” 

but jay wasn’t buying it. he pushed harder, always the annoying friend who actually cares. “okay, but did you ask jake for her number yet?” sunghoon tried to laugh it off, but the answer was always no. 

“i didn’t. she’s way too pretty for me to just go asking like it’s no big deal. and besides, from what i saw, she’s definitely not single. heeseung was all over her, talking like they had some history or something.” 

sunghoon tried to convince jay (and himself) that he wasn’t jealous, just realistic. he reminded himself he wasn’t some guy who just jumped into things blindly, especially not when the other guy was heeseung, who’d been friends with them both for years. so instead of asking for her number, he did what he does best: replayed the whole night in his head. every laugh you gave, every way you leaned in when heeseung was talking, the little things he couldn’t quite figure out. 

he thought about how quiet he’d been, how stupid he probably looked trying to play it cool when all he wanted was to ask you questions about everything. but most of all, he wondered if there’d ever be a moment where he could just be the guy sitting next to you, not some awkward stranger watching from across the table.

sunghoon was in one of those moods where it felt like nothing ever went his way. you know, the kind of streak where every little thing seemed to slip through his fingers. dates that fizzled out before they even got started, conversations that ended awkwardly, moments that should’ve felt right but somehow didn’t. by the time he met you, he was almost done with all the usual nonsense. he wasn’t expecting fireworks or some perfect romcom scene. he was just trying not to mess things up this time. so when you showed up, he kept his guard up, quiet, careful not to get too invested too fast. he told himself he was being smart, protecting himself from another round of whatever it was that had been happening before.

so on the next week, sunghoon found himself at jake’s place again for another gathering, the kind that felt like a regular thing now even though he was still figuring out what he actually wanted from all this. when he walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was you, sitting in the corner with a group of friends. he tried to act casual as he made his way over, but inside, every step felt like a careful calculation. 

his mind raced through possible ways to start the conversation without sounding awkward or, worse, desperate. “don’t mess this up,” he told himself quietly, repeating it like a mantra as he got closer. when he finally reached you, he caught a glimpse of your t-shirt, a band he knew well, mcfly. it was kind of a guilty pleasure for him. back in high school, he’d picked up their songs mostly because a lot of girls liked them, and it had been his secret move to catch their attention. but somewhere along the way, he realized he actually liked the music, even if he’d never admit it out loud. it was one of those small things, but for sunghoon, it was like a secret handshake, a sign that maybe you two weren’t completely from different planets.

he cleared his throat and said, “hey, nice shirt. didn’t expect to see someone else wearing mcfly around here.”

you glanced up, a bit surprised, then smiled. “yeah, i guess it’s not super common these days.”

sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit weird admitting it. “i mean, i used to listen to them all the time back in high school. don’t tell anyone, but tom’s songwriting always stuck with me.”

you raised your eyebrows, clearly surprised. “wait, really? you actually like mcfly?”

he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, i picked up their songs ‘cause a lot of girls were into them, but then i kind of got hooked. it’s like... guilty pleasure, but also genuine.”

you smirked, “guilty pleasure is the best kind, honestly.”

sunghoon felt a little relieved she wasn’t making fun of him. “exactly.”

you both laughed softly, and for a moment, sunghoon forgot to overthink everything. it was just two people, talking about a band, and somehow that felt a lot easier than he expected. sunghoon found himself just wanting to listen to you talk. the way you casually shared stories about concerts and favorite songs felt different from the usual small talk he was used to. it wasn’t like he was trying to impress you or be someone he wasn’t, it was just two people connecting over something simple.

he tried to keep the conversation going, so he asked, “so, do you come to these hangouts often, or is this just a one-time thing?”

you smiled again, “pretty often. it’s nice to see familiar faces and meet new ones.”

sunghoon nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest that wasn’t just from the beer he’d had earlier. inside, he was thinking, yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. but he kept that to himself. for now, he was happy just being there, talking, and maybe, just maybe, hoping there would be more moments like this.

the conversation flowed better than he expected. you talked about concerts you’d been to, favorite songs, weird stories about how you got into the band. sunghoon was surprised at how easy it was to laugh and just be yourself around you. but then, as the night went on, he realized the familiar sinking feeling, the one that hit every time before: the friendzone. you were funny, smart, and clearly someone he wanted to be more than friends with, but the way you joked and leaned into the group, it was clear you saw him like the guy who always had a good playlist, not the one who was secretly hoping for more.

and after that night, things started to slip into something that sunghoon didn’t quite expect. you two began to follow each other on social media. just the usual likes and comments that somehow made his day a little better whenever his phone buzzed. at first, he told himself it was just casual. friends catching up, sharing bits of their lives.

but slowly, he realized it wasn’t so casual anymore. he found himself scrolling through your photos longer than he meant to, replaying your messages in his head, wondering what your smile looked like when you weren’t looking. jay noticed too, because sunghoon was not subtle about it at all. every few days, he’d throw the question at sunghoon like it was some kind of game. “so, are you into her?”

and every time, sunghoon would laugh it off. “nah, man, just friends. nothing like that.”

but inside, he was tangled up in a mess of what ifs and maybe-nots. he told himself he was fine just being friends, that getting too close wasn’t worth the risk. he was tired of things going sideways, of hoping for something that never quite stuck. but the more he tried to convince himself, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest tightened when you popped up on his screen or the way his mind wandered to what it’d be like if things actually went right.

he wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet. but the truth was, he was falling, probably faster than he wanted to admit. and every time jay asked, he’d just smile and shake his head, pretending he didn’t feel a thing. pretending was easier, at least for now.

it was a saturday afternoon, and sunghoon had been outside for a solid twenty minutes trying (once again) to reclaim the gym down the street. it had become a bit of an obsession at that point. snoopygirl_98 had taken it over again, and this time, she’d stacked it with an annoyingly strong blissey that just wouldn’t budge. he was pacing in front of the bakery on the corner, furiously tapping his screen, muttering under his breath like it was personal. because, honestly, it kinda was. whoever snoopygirl_98 was, she had been tormenting his team valor pride for weeks, and he was convinced she was doing it on purpose now.

right as he was about to give up and switch to a different gym, a notification popped up on his screen, not from the game, but a message. from you.

[y/n:] hey hoon!! are you busy?

his thumb hovered over the screen for a second, stomach doing that little flip it always did when your name showed up. he stared at it, then at the game, then back at the message. screw the gym.

[sunghoon:] Not really, what’s up?

the reply came fast, like you’d already had it typed and ready to send.

[y/n:] i’m at the mart near your place and i got way too many bags… like an embarrassing amount… and i couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. would you be a hero and help me carry these to my building? 🥺

sunghoon blinked at the screen. and then again. and then stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, processing what just happened. you couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. now, logically, he knew that meant nothing. you were friends, this was a friend thing. helping someone carry groceries was classic friend behavior. textbook friendzone. but still, his chest did a weird fluttery thing, and he could already hear jay’s voice in his head saying something smug like, “not into her, huh?”

he texted back: 

[sunghoon:] On my way! Don’t move. Be there in five

he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and took off in the direction of the store, telling himself it wasn’t a big deal. it’s just a nice thing to do. good karma. neighbors helping neighbors, nothing more. but deep down, as he walked a little too fast and adjusted his hair in the reflection of a parked car, sunghoon knew exactly what he was doing. and he knew exactly why he was doing it.

because, yeah, maybe he was in the friendzone. but he was in the friendzone with you. and that still felt a lot better than being anywhere else.

when he got to the store, there you were, standing on the curb with three overstuffed tote bags and two plastic ones hanging from your wrists, trying to balance them without toppling over. you looked up, caught sight of him, and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world to call sunghoon out of the blue and make him carry your groceries like some kind of personal delivery boy. and the worst part is that he didn’t even mind.

“you weren’t kidding,” he said, eyeing the bags as he took most of them from you without hesitation.

“i was being modest,” you replied, a little out of breath. “there were two more bags but the guy at the checkout told me to stop.”

“glad someone had the courage to say it,” he joked, and you nudged him with your elbow as the two of you started walking.

at first, it was all easy conversation, nothing new there. you talked about how the store rearranged the snack aisle again, how you couldn’t find your favorite granola, and how the cashier gave you a coupon for cat food even though you didn’t have a cat. he listened, laughed in all the right places, and added his own running commentary. it was the kind of rhythm you two had settled into without ever really trying.

but somewhere between the store and your apartment building, as he adjusted the bags in his arms and looked at you rambling about frozen waffles, something quietly clicked in his chest. he didn’t know when it had started, maybe back at the bar, maybe during some other moment he didn’t register properly, but it was there now, and it was loud.

he liked you.

like, actually liked you. not the fake-crush-you-get-on-a-friend thing. not the maybe i’m just lonely thing. a real, actual crush that made his hands sweat and his thoughts spiral and his pulse skip a little every time you looked at him too long. and he had been telling himself it wasn’t that, because it was easier and because it was safer. but yeah, it was that.

you held the door to your building open with your hip and motioned for him to follow you. “don’t judge the mess,” you said casually.

sunghoon didn’t say anything, just smiled, still mildly stunned by the realization swirling in his head. when you opened the door to your apartment and he stepped inside, it was like stepping into a personality, your personality. there were string lights that didn’t match but somehow made sense together. mugs with little quotes on them. a record player in the corner next to a stack of vinyls that included both taylor swift and metallica. polaroids on the fridge. a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. a plant that was definitely dying but still hanging in there. it was so you, in every way.

and sunghoon stood there holding your bags, pretending he wasn’t staring.

“you can drop them by the kitchen,” you said, already pulling off your coat and tossing it on the couch.

he did, and then paused, glancing around again. “your place is…” he trailed off, not sure how to say weirdly perfect without sounding creepy.

you looked over your shoulder. “chaotic?”

“adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself.

you raised an eyebrow, amused. “really?”

“uh. i mean, yeah. in a—like—it’s very you.”

he wanted to slap himself. but you just smiled again and started unpacking your bags like it wasn’t a big deal.

and over the next few weeks, things kind of continued. sunghoon found himself falling into this strange rhythm with you. not in a we’re clearly falling for each other kind of way, but in a i’m clearly in love and you keep sending me memes at 2am like that means nothing kind of way. and he didn’t even know how it happened. it was like one minute he was helping you carry groceries and the next he was learning your coffee order, your go-to karaoke song, and the name of the stuffed penguin you’d had since you were six. so the friendzone? yeah, it was thriving. stable. deeply rooted in reality.

“she called me dude today,” sunghoon said one night, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

jay didn’t look up from his phone. “right. and?”

“no, but, like. she said it in the friendly way. like a bro way. like a ‘dude, you have to see this video of a cat falling off a table’ kind of way.”

jay glanced over. “so… you’re mad she’s comfortable with you?” sunghoon tossed a pillow at him but couldn’t deny the accuracy.

he was at that stage where he’d memorized your laugh patterns, saved photos from your story by accident, and started recognizing songs from your spotify playlists. he’d accidentally started saying some of your catchphrases. he was, in short, doomed.

you, meanwhile, were obliviously warm and kind and effortlessly funny, the kind of funny that didn’t try too hard, which made it worse. you’d text him stuff like “is this a normal dinner?” with a photo of cereal and pickles, and sunghoon would still stare at his phone for ten minutes smiling like a loser. he hated it. no, he loved it. no, actually, he hated that he loved it.

once, you called him at midnight just to ask if frogs had teeth (they do, sort of), and he answered like that was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do. it was around then that jay gave up even pretending to be surprised.

“just tell her you like her,” he said, halfway through a bowl of cereal.

sunghoon groaned. “i’d rather eat glass.”

“then stop looking at your phone like it’s a shrine.”

“i’m not.”

“you’re literally on her instagram zooming in on her bookshelf.”

“she has good taste in books, jay.”

“sure. tell the bookshelf how you feel.”

sunghoon ignored him, of course. he was committed to the bit now. committed to being your very helpful, very available, very emotionally tortured friend. it was pathetic, but it was also the best he’d felt in months.

jungwon’s birthday was on a saturday, and somehow the group decided that the best way to celebrate turning twenty-something was to put on rented shoes and throw heavy balls down a lane under disco lights. sunghoon hadn’t been to a bowling alley in years, but he wasn’t about to admit that. especially not when you showed up in jeans, a ponytail, and a hyper-specific competitiveness in your eyes that made him slightly nervous.

“you any good?” you asked, grabbing a bowling ball way too confidently.

sunghoon shrugged like it was nothing. “decent.”

“hm. cocky.”

“you scared?”

you raised an eyebrow. “you wish.”

and that was it: challenge accepted. sunghoon spent the next hour entirely too focused on beating you, despite the fact that it was literally jungwon’s birthday and he had no reason to be acting like it was the bowling olympics. but there was something about the way you teased him every time he got a spare, or the smug way you celebrated your strikes like you’d just ended world hunger, that gave him this ridiculous flutter in his chest he didn’t know what to do with.

you stuck your tongue out at him after your third strike in a row. “might wanna switch to the kiddie lane.”

“i’m just letting you win,” he said, deadpan.

“oh? how generous.”

he rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. he hated how easy it was to like you. he hated how every little joke made him want to high-five his past self for deciding to help carry your groceries that one time. he also hated how that warm, stupid feeling in his chest immediately froze when he saw heeseung walk in.

you spotted heeseung almost instantly and lit up in that way people only do when they see someone they’re extremely fond of. you waved, borderline giddy, and rushed over to hug him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though sunghoon was pretty sure you’d just posted a story with him the weekend before.

sunghoon watched from the far side of the seating area, trying to act normal. casual. unbothered. he adjusted his grip on his bowling ball even though he wasn’t playing that round and stared at the score screen like it had personally offended him. right. heeseung. the heeseung. the possible thing that he kept forgetting might exist. because you didn’t really talk about it. maybe there was nothing, since you have never mentioned it. and that only made it worse, because it left sunghoon’s brain wide open for theories and assumptions and a quiet, unspoken jealousy that he refused to acknowledge out loud.

jay leaned over. “you good?”

“yup.”

“you look like you’re about to throw that ball at someone’s head.”

sunghoon glanced down at the ball in his hands. “just focused.”

“focused on…?”

“winning.”

“you’re literally not up next.”

sunghoon ignored him. instead, he sat back down, pretended he wasn’t looking over at you and heeseung talking like you were in your own little world, and reminded himself that he was your friend. your helpful, emotionally-stable, always-up-for-carrying-heavy-things friend. he could handle that. probably.

and the bowling alley closed at midnight, but the group was still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and just enough alcohol to make walking in a straight line optional. naturally, that meant the next stop was the bar downstairs from sunghoon and jay’s apartment, their usual post-everything spot. jay had jungwon slung over his back in a chaotic piggyback ride situation, spinning him in slow, clumsy circles as jungwon yelled, “this is the best birthday ever!” with his arms out like a drunk airplane.

sunghoon stood at the bar, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their next round. his hoodie sleeves were rolled up, and he was doing mental math trying to figure out if they’d ordered six or seven beers when someone stepped up beside him.

“hey,” heeseung said, casual, nodding toward the cluster of friends behind them. “you having fun?”

sunghoon smiled politely. “yeah, i am. it’s alright.”

“i’m glad you and y/n got close,” heeseung said, tone sincere. “she’s mentioned it a few times. says you’re easy to talk to.” sunghoon blinked and heeseung chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “i mean it. she doesn’t say stuff like that about just anyone. i think she really appreciates your friendship.”

sunghoon nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips. part of him warmed at the idea that you talked about him at all, that maybe he wasn’t just another background character in your life. maybe you actually noticed him, his jokes, his presence, his friendship. but then again, that was the word. friendship. and hearing that from heeseung — heeseung, who might very well be the guy you curled up with at the end of the night inside sunghoon’s head — made it land like a compliment wrapped in a punch. 

so sunghoon gave a small nod, grabbed the tray, and turned back toward the table with a practiced smile, careful not to drop anything or show too much on his face.

the night had mellowed into that sleepy, blurry stage where everyone was too tired to keep the party going, but not quite ready to say goodbye. the staircase outside sunghoon and jay’s condo was full of muffled laughter and shuffling feet. jay was half-carrying, half-dragging jungwon toward the entrance, mumbling something about him always passing out like a toddler on holidays. 

sunghoon trailed a few steps behind them, eyes on the floor, brain already shifting into autopilot. he was thinking about how he’d need to find an extra blanket for jungwon, and how the couch springs were going to wreck his back by morning, and how weird it was that every night with you ended the same: him pretending he didn’t want to stay longer.

“sunghoon?”

your voice cut through the entrance. he turned around to find you a few steps down on the staircase, looking up at him. your makeup was a little smudged from the night, and your hair was a bit messy from the wind, but you looked so relaxed. like you’d had a good time, like you didn’t want it to end just yet.

“hey,” he said, walking back toward you.

you smiled, warm and sleepy. “i had so much fun tonight. like, actual fun. not just polite fun.”

he chuckled. “me too.”

“we still haven’t settled the bowling score though,” you added, a teasing glint in your eyes. “we’re technically tied, and i don’t like leaving things unresolved.”

sunghoon blinked. “so you’re challenging me to a rematch?”

“obviously,” you grinned. “i want a proper win next time.”

he nodded, a little slower than he meant to. “yeah. okay. i’m in.”

and you just smiled at him like that answer had been a given. like you knew he’d say yes, like this was easy. normal, friendly. but as he turned back toward the apartment, your words kept echoing in his head. “i had so much fun tonight.”, “i want a proper win next time.”

it wasn’t just what you said, it was how you said it, the way you looked at him, like the night wasn’t fully over until you said goodnight to him specifically. it sent his thoughts spiraling in that annoyingly hopeful way he tried so hard to avoid. maybe he wasn’t imagining things. maybe it wasn’t just him, falling into another crush he couldn’t manage. maybe there was something… there.

and yet, as he followed jay inside, stepped over jungwon’s half-unconscious body sprawled on the rug, and shut the door behind him, he still couldn’t tell if he was being seen the way he wanted to be seen. he was getting whiplash from hoping too much and pretending not to. and somewhere between getting a glass of water and setting up a pillow for jungwon, he realized he was completely, hopelessly, predictably into you. as if that wasn’t obvious already.

over the next few weeks, sunghoon slowly started to realize just how tangled up he was in his feelings for you. he found himself checking his phone a little more often, hoping for a message, and when you did invite him out, he tried to play it cool even though his stomach was doing flips.

most of the times you hung out, it was at gatherings with friends, the kind of casual, loud hangouts where it was hard to have a serious conversation. you would appear in the middle of a group, laughing and teasing someone, and sunghoon would catch himself watching you more than the game or the conversation. he kept guessing, quietly, that maybe there was something going on between you and heeseung, especially since you seemed close, comfortable around each other in a way that made sunghoon’s stomach tighten a little. but he never brought it up. not to you, not to jake, not even to himself out loud. it was easier to assume something was there than to face the uncertainty.

then, one evening, jake mentioned an ex of yours during a conversation, like a name dropped in passing. heeseung’s reaction caught sunghoon off guard. “that guy was such a jerk,” heeseung said, his voice low and almost protective. “you deserve so much better. you deserve someone who actually is, at least, not a jerk.”

that moment clicked something in sunghoon’s head. if heeseung was talking like that, maybe there wasn’t anything going on between you two after all. and that thought was both a relief and a reason to panic. because it meant the way was clear, but it also meant time was running out. you were amazing, and he was pretty sure there were plenty of other guys out there, sliding into your dms, trying to get your attention.

he started to feel a weird mix of excitement and anxiety, like a kid realizing he was finally allowed to play the game but also realizing how fast the clock was ticking. he wasn’t sure what to do with all those feelings, so most of the time, he just tried to keep calm on the outside while his mind raced ahead, imagining how to not mess it up.

one evening, sitting on the couch with jay scrolling through his phone, sunghoon finally decided to open up. he talked about how seeing you made him feel like he was stuck in this weird in-between, wanting more but not knowing how to get there without messing everything up. jay looked up, gave him that familiar sideways grin, and said something simple but solid: “bro, you just gotta be patient. wait for the right moment. don’t go jumping in all dramatic like you usually do.”

sunghoon rolled his eyes but knew jay was right. “yeah, i get it. no mugs with her face on it, no mixtapes, no playlist called ‘songs that remind me of you.’”

“exactly,” jay said, deadpan. “try being normal for once.”

sunghoon leaned back and closed his eyes, but his brain immediately went into overdrive. his mind was something like: okay, no mugs, got it. but what about a poem? no, that’s way too much. maybe a funny meme? too lame. what about baking cookies? wait, does she even like sweets? maybe she’s gluten-free. no clue. okay, no mixtapes, but what if i make a playlist? subtle though, not like ‘this is for you.’ maybe call it ‘songs i listen to when i’m feeling chill’? no, too vague. or maybe a mug but just plain, with a small quote? nah, still weird. what if i write her a note? no, i’m not a middle schooler. or just ask her out straight up? no, no, no. gotta wait for the moment. but when?

he sighed and looked over at jay, who was now smirking. “guess being normal is harder than it sounds.”

and a few weeks later, there was this party, and it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of chaos sunghoon didn’t really like. but there you were, halfway through your third drink, giggling at something nobody else had said, and instantly becoming the center of attention. you were funny, charming, and a little bit tipsy, the perfect combination for making everyone laugh without even trying. sunghoon, of course, was watching you with that panicked, how do i handle this look that only his closest friends knew too well.

somehow, the whole group decided that keeping an eye on you was his responsibility. no one said it out loud, but it was like an unspoken rule. maybe it was because he looked like the most responsible one, or maybe because you kept drifting toward him like a magnet, waving your arms dramatically while telling stories with way too much enthusiasm.

“sunghoon, you’re not going to believe what happened to me today,” you slurred slightly, swaying on your feet but managing to stay upright. “this guy at the coffee shop said i looked like a celebrity.” you wiggled your eyebrows and smiled at him, waiting for his reaction.

sunghoon blinked, trying to hide the part of his brain that was screaming she’s drunk and adorable and how do i even respond to this? “uh, that’s… great,” he said carefully, hoping it sounded casual. “you told him you’re famous now?”

you laughed, a little too loudly. “no, i said i’m just famous in my own head. get it?”

“yeah,” he smiled softly, already feeling like he’d lost the ability to say anything clever. “definitely famous.”

you reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning closer. “you’re no fun tonight, sunghoon. loosen up.” your eyes were sparkling mischievously, and sunghoon’s heart did a stupid little flip that he did not want anyone else to notice.

inside, he was running through every possible reaction: play it cool, be chill, don’t stare like a lovesick puppy. smile, laugh when she laughs, don’t mention the fact that her breath smells like cheap vodka. okay, offer her water? no, she’ll think i’m momming her. maybe just get another drink for myself to stay steady? nah, that’s just an excuse to drink too.

while he was debating this internal chaos, you suddenly burst out laughing at your own joke about the coffee shop guy, and sunghoon couldn’t help but smile, feeling himself falling deeper into whatever this was between you two. “you know,” you said, suddenly serious for a second, “i’m glad you’re here. it’s kinda nice having someone look out for me.”

sunghoon’s breath caught. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.” he tried to sound casual, but there was no hiding the softness in his voice.

later, when you were wobbling a little too much to stand by yourself, sunghoon was immediately there to steady you. “i got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned on him. everyone else just watched and smiled, like this was all part of the plan.

on the way out, you stumbled a bit and he tightened his grip. “thanks for being my human crutch tonight,” you joked.

“anytime,” he replied, feeling like he should say something deeper but all he could think was please don’t fall, please don’t fall.

walking you home was quiet but comforting. you kept mumbling random things about the party and some wild idea for a band you wanted to start. sunghoon just listened, his mind half on your words and half on how lucky he felt to be the one walking by your side. and when you finally reached your apartment, you turned and gave him a sleepy smile. “thanks for tonight, hoon. you’re a good friend.”

he nodded, smiling back, but inside, the familiar mix of hope and panic swirled again. good friend was a start, but maybe he wanted to be more than that. for now, though, he was happy to just get you home safe, and try not to mess up the next time you got this adorably drunk.

you paused at the door of your apartment, a little wobbly and smiling, looking at sunghoon with eyes that were definitely feeling the weight of the night. “hey, you don’t have to walk all the way home alone, you know,” you said, leaning against the wall for balance. “why don’t you just come in for a bit? it’s late, and honestly, i’d be worried about you.”

sunghoon gave a nervous smile, trying to look confident. “nah, i’m good. i’m a big boy, i can handle it.”

he felt your gaze, half intense, half sweet, half amused, as if silently asking, really? so you laughed softly, a little tipsy but sincere. “i’m gonna stay up all night worried if you don’t come in. and my couch is super comfortable, like, really. i could sleep there, and you’ll take the bed.”

sunghoon stopped for a second, his brain trying to decode the innocent but kinda tempting offer. wait, she wants me to sleep on her bed? he thought, feeling his heart speed up just a little. okay, maybe more than a little.

“never,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m never gonna let you sleep on the couch. you sleep on the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”

you widened your eyes like “aha, so you’re saying you’ll stay?” with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying seeing him flustered.

sunghoon tried to play it cool, but inside his head it was total chaos. okay, breathe. don’t do anything dumb. but damn, this is really nice. “yeah,” he said, “guess that’s the deal.”

you laughed, flopping back on the couch like it was your personal bed already. “good. now i won’t have to worry. and you’ll be close if i need you to save me from any weird noises or monsters.”

sunghoon chuckled. “don’t worry. i’m way scarier than any monster.”

you were already sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, that sleepy, slightly goofy smile playing on your lips. sunghoon stood there for a moment, just watching you, feeling that weird mix of wanting to be helpful but not quite sure how. finally, he cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“no no no, you should go change and sleep in your bed. don’t stay on the couch,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. inside, his brain was racing — okay, act normal. don’t make this weird. but also, don’t mess it up.

you scrunched your nose, crossing your arms like a kid who just got told to eat their vegetables. “ah, but i don’t wanna get up. it’s warm here,” you complained in that playful, stubborn tone that made sunghoon smile without even realizing it.

he laughed quietly but didn’t back down. instead, he just went over to you, and before you could argue more, he scooped you up effortlessly, just enough to carry you off the couch and start the slow walk to your room. in that moment, his heart was beating way faster than it should, and he caught himself thinking, wow, this is actually kinda nice. 

when he laid you gently on your bed, he took a second to adjust the pillow behind your head, smoothing the blanket over you carefully, as if you were something fragile he wanted to protect. he stood there a moment longer, just watching your face, so peaceful now, and it hit him how much he actually cared about you, more than just friends, that was pretty obvious already, but not quite sure how to say that out loud yet.

then, leaning down slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a quiet little promise that he was there and that you mattered. he pulled back a little and said, “i’m gonna close the door, okay? you change, then go to sleep. if you need anything, just call me.”

as he reached for a blanket on the chair, ready to head back to the couch, his mind was a mess of silly thoughts— is this what people mean by 'caring'? man, why does this feel so complicated? i just want her to be comfortable, but now i’m thinking about how nice it is to be close like this… okay, calm down, sunghoon.

he smiled to himself, shook his head lightly, and settled in for the night on the couch, feeling oddly happy and a little bit hopeless all at once.

the next morning sunghoon woke up with a start, his heart still racing from a half-remembered dream. your place was quiet, but there was something different. something warm and inviting that pulled him out of the couch. as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a comforting smell drifted toward him: the rich aroma of coffee mixed with the sweet scent of pancakes. curious, he stood up, following the smell to the kitchen.

there you were, standing by the stove in a soft, oversized pajama shirt that looked impossibly cozy. the sight of you moving around the kitchen, focused yet relaxed, hit him with a sudden wave of tenderness he wasn’t ready for. his chest tightened, a gentle ache from the simple, quiet moment unfolding in front of him. you turned and caught him watching, a shy smile spreading across your face. “good morning,” you said softly, the casual warmth in your voice making everything feel right. “i thought i’d make us some breakfast. thanks for taking care of me last night.”

sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his heart swelling with something like pride and affection all tangled together. without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. the scent of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, filled his senses, and for a moment he just held onto you, feeling a calm happiness settle deep inside.

“you’re welcome,” he said quietly, voice low and a little breathless. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile gentle but full of something more, something unspoken. the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that soft morning light.

so after that morning, sunghoon’s brain basically went on permanent loop mode. and not the cool, chill kind of loop, but the one where your brain is stuck on a hamster wheel powered by a caffeine-addicted squirrel, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every little thing reminded him of you: the smell of coffee, the way you smiled, that ridiculous oversized pajama shirt that somehow made you look like both a cozy bear and a secret heartbreaker at the same time.

he started doing these totally unplanned mental movie scenes of you both, like some rom-com that he had zero control over. in his head, there were slow-motion moments, awkward laughs, and a lot of him trying not to trip over his own words — spoiler alert: he always did. and the tragic part was that he knew he was acting like a total dork, but he couldn’t care less. he was deep in the hopeless crush zone, and the sad, funny part was he didn’t even mind being there.

sunghoon even caught himself practicing casual greetings in the mirror, whispering, “hey, what’s up?” but sounding more like, “heyyyy, whassssuuup,” which definitely was not the vibe he wanted to give off.

and sunghoon never really knew how to play the guitar. like, he could barely hold the thing properly without feeling like he was about to break it or accidentally snap a string. but then there was this song, “falling in love” by mcfly, that somehow stuck in his head. it wasn’t even a cool song to brag about knowing, but it had this weird charm, and more importantly, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could play it for you one day.

so, he went to jay and asked to borrow his guitar. jay raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting sunghoon to give up in like five minutes. but sunghoon was serious, he wanted this. the first few days were pure disaster. his fingers hurt, and every chord change sounded like a dying cat. he fumbled, he muttered swear words under his breath, and jay occasionally peeked in, half-amused, half-worried.

after what felt like forever, with his fingers all raw and sore, he finally managed to play the whole song without collapsing into a coughing fit or breaking a string. victorious but exhausted, he sent you a message: Hey, i learned falling in love on the guitar!

you replied instantly: i want to see you play it someday :)))

sunghoon stared at his phone, heart racing like he’d run a marathon. then, of course, his brain went into overdrive. what if i mess up? what if my fingers slip? what if i sound terrible even after all this practice? but at the same time, there was this tiny spark of excitement that maybe this was a step closer to something more than just friends.

one day, sunghoon was finally doing something with jay that didn’t involve him thinking about you nonstop, which was a true miracle, really. they were just messing around, playing some dumb game on jay’s phone, cracking jokes, and for a moment, sunghoon’s brain was somewhere other than you. then his phone buzzed with that annoying notification again: someone was attacking the pokemon gym right across the street, the one he had claimed like two days ago after a fierce battle.

he glanced at the screen, and sure enough, it was snoopygirl_98, the same mysterious pokémon go player who had been stealing that gym from him every other day. the rivalry was basically legendary in his mind: the fierce battle of sunghoon vs snoopygirl_98. he never actually knew who she was, but he was determined to keep his turf.

without a second thought, sunghoon slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his slipper (the one goofy soft slipper he always wore around the house) and said, “jay, hold on. i gotta settle this.” jay just raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing sunghoon’s competitive streak was about to kick into overdrive. so there he was, tiptoeing out of the apartment, half slipping on the soft slipper but trying to look cool anyway. as he crossed the street, he was already imagining the showdown. “okay, snoopygirl_98,” he whispered, “time to see who’s the real champion.”

as he turned the corner onto the street where the gym always stood, sunghoon was already preparing his battle stance, phone in one hand, thumb poised like a dramatic swordsman, ready to reclaim his gym with the same urgency people usually reserved for, like, national emergencies. he was muttering strategies under his breath, rehearsing which pokémon to use first (always charizard, never blissey — blissey was a coward’s choice) when he noticed a familiar shape a few steps ahead, someone standing by the 7-eleven sign, head tilted down, clearly battling on their phone with the kind of concentration that only came from either playing pokémon go or trying to transfer money while your banking app crashes.

he squinted, slowed down, adjusted his slipper, because something about the silhouette made his brain do that annoying thing where it starts connecting dots he didn’t ask it to connect. the hoodie was oversized. the socks were mismatched. the hair was pulled up the way he always secretly thought looked really good on you even though he never said anything because what kind of guy compliments hair logistics? and then you looked up. and it was you. and sunghoon’s brain just stopped.

you didn’t see him right away, too focused on whatever attack you were tapping out on your screen and for a second, he just stood there, frozen, phone hanging limply in his hand like he'd forgotten what apps were, trying to process the fact that snoopygirl_98 — the elusive enemy who had single-handedly ruined his gym stats for months, the digital nemesis he had cursed under his breath more times than he could count — was you. you. as in, the person who still didn’t know he practiced saying “hi” in the mirror before group hangouts, just in case you were there. the person he may or may not have secretly written a list about titled “things she’s said that made me feel weird in a good way.”

and now here you were, standing across from him, completely unaware, committing virtual violence against his snorlax like it was just another tuesday. because it was, in fact, just another tuesday.

he blinked once, then again, then checked his phone, like maybe the app had glitched, like maybe this was some alternate universe where you just happened to have the exact same username as his sworn digital rival. but there it was: snoopygirl_98. blue team. level 37. the destroyer of dreams and the reason he once rage-deleted the app at 2am and reinstalled it ten minutes later because he couldn’t sleep without knowing if the gym was still his.

and somehow, somehow, it was you.

he didn’t know what to do. he couldn’t just walk up and say “hey, remember that gym you’ve been taking over every night for six months? surprise! it’s me, your accidental pokémon nemesis and also the guy who may or may not be in love with you depending on how much eye contact we’ve made in the last week.” no. absolutely not. he had dignity. barely. but he had it. kind of.

instead, he took a cautious step back like a spy retreating from an unexpected recon mission, trying not to make noise as he slid his slipper against the pavement, which unfortunately made a cartoonish squeak that echoed louder than it should have in the open air. you turned, looked up, and your face lit up the exact way it always did when you saw him, like it was just a nice surprise to run into your friend, like nothing weird was happening, like you weren’t holding his gym hostage right now with a smug-looking vaporeon.

“sunghoon?” you said, smiling, completely normal, as if this wasn’t some betrayal of trust that would go down in pokémon go history forums if he ever decided to tell the story.

he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “hey,” he finally said, voice much higher than usual, like someone had turned the pitch knob on his entire social confidence.

you tilted your head, confused for a second, then pointed at your screen. “you play too?”

and that was it. the unraveling. the full comedic collapse of sunghoon’s internal monologue. because play too? girl. play too? you’ve been personally destroying his soul one blissey at a time and now you were standing there acting like you were new to the whole thing, like you weren’t the blue team villain of his red team nightmares. he wanted to laugh. or cry. or possibly propose. he wasn’t sure anymore.

he forced a smile. “yeah… i dabble.”

you laughed, completely unaware of the hurricane inside his skull. “i’ve been stealing this gym for weeks. i don’t know who keeps taking it back, but it’s kind of my nightly routine now.”

he nodded slowly, like someone who’s just realized they’ve been in a romcom subplot this entire time and everyone forgot to tell them. “yeah. weird. wonder who that could be.”

you grinned. “whoever it is, they’re relentless.”

he blinked. smiled. swallowed the dramatic gasp he wanted to let out. “yeah,” he said again, staring at your phone like it had personally insulted his family. “totally relentless.”

and in that moment, as you turned your attention back to your screen and started strategizing your next move with a seriousness that honestly impressed him, sunghoon realized something that both horrified and thrilled him in equal measure: he didn’t want to win the gym anymore. not tonight. maybe not ever. because losing to you? weirdly… kind of felt like winning.

so the weeks that followed the great snoopygirl_98 2025 revelation were, to sunghoon’s brain, a chaotic montage of unprocessed emotions, late-night gym takeovers, and entirely too many internal monologues that began with “okay but what does it mean” and ended with him staring at the ceiling like always. because now that he knew you were, well, you, he couldn’t un-know it. everything felt different, except literally nothing had changed. you still sent him memes at weird hours. you still texted him “tell me something random” out of nowhere and then rated his answers out of ten. you still walked into rooms like you were casually auditioning for the lead in the sitcom of his life.

and sunghoon, for his part, was trying to be normal. keyword: trying. which mostly meant overthinking every single interaction while nodding like an emotionally competent adult. a simple “hey, what are you doing tonight?” from you became an existential riddle he could only solve through three hours of pacing and a playlist of acoustic sad songs.

he had started categorizing your texts into very serious folders in his brain, like:

folder a: possibly flirty but could be friendly if you squint.

folder b: definitely friendly but still makes his stomach feel weird.

folder c: completely neutral but somehow he read it five times anyway.

folder d: emergency. called him “dude.” instant damage. snorlax lost 400 HP.

and then, as if fate hadn’t already made things complicated enough, you started talking about how i met your mother. at first it was casual. you mentioned you’d been rewatching some episodes and sunghoon, of course, latched on immediately like a drowning man clinging to a life raft labeled shared interests. he texted back something way too enthusiastic, like “WAIT I LOVE THAT SHOW,” and then instantly regretted the all caps but it was too late.

from there, it spiraled in the best possible way. suddenly you were sending each other voice notes about barney’s worst outfits (trick question: barney is always wearing a suit), arguing over whether ted was just misunderstood or annoying (sunghoon was team both), and quoting lines back and forth. and it became a routine, you’d agree on which episodes to watch, then text throughout like you were sitting on opposite ends of the same couch, reacting in real time. and sure, sometimes the timing was off and someone got spoiled by an accidental “OMG LILY JUST SAID THAT” two minutes before the scene actually happened, but it didn’t matter. it was fun. it felt like something, like a shared little world.

and then when you were talking about season two, something about how marshall and lily’s relationship made you feel weirdly emotional in a way you hadn’t expected, and sunghoon had just typed out a Very Deep Message about love and growing up when you interrupted with:

[y/n:] why don’t you just come over and we watch together?

[y/n:] we could watch and order something like real, greasy, perfect food

sunghoon stared at the message like it was a prophecy. he reread it, twice. then a third time, just in case it turned into “actually nvm lol” when he blinked. it didn’t. it stayed there, glowing softly on his screen. and his brain, poor sunghoon’s brain, absolutely exploded.

one part of him went: she invited you over. this is it. this is the crossover episode. but what if it’s just, like, a chill friend hangout? what if she makes you watch the pineapple episode and asks if you relate to ted. and then the final part, the dramatic romantic core of his soul, just whispered: go. wear your good hoodie. the one that doesn’t smell like doritos.

he took a deep breath, typed back something that he hoped sounded effortlessly cool — probably something tragically boring like “Yeah, sounds fun :)” — and then threw his phone across the room like it had personally attacked him with joy.

because yeah, it was happening. he was going to your apartment, again, not for drinking reasons and sleeping at your couch this time, no. you were going to watch how i met your mother together. with food, and possibly blankets. and if the universe was in any way fair, maybe you’d laugh at something he said and nudge his arm and he would not panic.

sunghoon arrived five minutes early, which, for him, was an act of immense restraint considering he’d spent the last twenty debating which snacks made him look more chill. he had one hand clutching a crinkly plastic bag full of sodium and intention, and the other mentally prepared to knock even though you’d already told him, twice, to just come in when he got there. still, he hovered in front of your door for a second, wondering if the zero-calorie soda made him look like someone trying too hard not to care.

you opened the door in a big hoodie and patterned socks, looking like you hadn’t overthought a single thing today, which made him immediately regret every decision he’d made in the past hour, starting with ironing his t-shirt. you glanced at the bag in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “you brought the entire snack aisle.”

“i wanted to make sure we don’t need to get up for at least three episodes,” he said, holding it out like a peace offering.

you peeked inside, spotted a rainbow of crunchy nonsense and two sodas, and smiled again, this one softer, and then said, with no sarcasm and no dramatic pause, “that’s actually really cute.”

sunghoon felt the sentence hit somewhere between his ribcage and his ability to behave like a normal human. “cute” wasn’t usually something he processed well. especially not when it came from you, in that tone. he gave a little laugh that wasn’t really a laugh and followed you into the apartment. the living room looked lived-in in the best way. blanket on the couch, half-melted candle on the coffee table, tv already queued up. you tossed a couple of pillows to the floor, sat cross-legged on the couch, and patted the spot next to you with zero hesitation, like this was the most natural thing in the world. he sat, careful not to take up too much space, careful not to do something weird with his hands.

you started the episode, some early season of how i met your mother, and the familiar opening theme filled the room. sunghoon tried to focus on the screen but your knee had already brushed his twice, and you were sitting close enough that he could smell your shampoo, which he refused to think about too long.

you had just grabbed a blanket and casually tossed half of it across his lap like that was completely fine. you shifted your weight, leaning slightly into him, and he told himself it was normal. you were comfortable. this was comfort. comfort wasn’t dangerous. except it kind of was, because now you were sharing a blanket, and the warmth wasn’t just from the polyester.

somewhere around the middle of the episode, you rested your hand on his arm for a second while laughing, just a quick touch, and then didn’t really move it, letting it stay there as you turned to say something about how ted reminded you of a guy you dated in college “but like, if that guy was worse at metaphors.” sunghoon nodded, mostly to cover up the fact that his brain had gone suspiciously quiet, like it was holding its breath.

you shifted again, pulled your legs up, and now your knee was leaning against his in a way that didn’t feel accidental. you didn’t apologize, or move, you just stayed like that, narrating bits of the episode, making comments, stealing a few chips from the bag he’d opened on his lap like you always did, but now it felt different, closer. intentional in a way that made sunghoon’s hands go kind of weird and tingly.

he tried to focus on the episode. really, he did. he watched barney fail another pick-up attempt, watched ted give one of his long-winded love speeches, and watched lily roll her eyes in that way she always did when she knew something before the rest of the group did. and through all of that, you kept your hand on his arm. and sometimes, your thumb moved slightly, like it was drawing little circles. he couldn’t tell if that was on purpose, and he wasn’t about to ask.

“ted tries too hard,” you said eventually, still watching the screen. “like… if he just stopped declaring things every five minutes, he’d probably be fine.”

“yeah,” sunghoon said, trying not to think too hard about how many things he’d rehearsed in the mirror just in case you ever brought up relationships. “relatable.”

you laughed lightly, looked at him sideways. “you’re not like ted, though.”

“is that a good thing?”

“it’s a good thing,” you said. and then, just like that, you leaned your head against his shoulder. not in rom-com way. just a quiet shift, like it made sense.

sunghoon blinked at the tv, which he now couldn’t see properly because your head was in the way, and decided that was perfectly fine. he didn’t need to see the episode. he’d seen it before anyway. probably twice, maybe three times. and you didn’t say anything after that, and he didn’t either. you stayed there, quiet but not awkward, and the blanket warmed up between you. he was very aware of how still he was sitting, as if moving even slightly would ruin the balance of the moment. your hand slipped down from his arm and onto his knee, not like a grand romantic gesture, more like you forgot where your hand was supposed to go and decided it was his knee now. he didn’t know what to do with that. so he let it be.

when the episode ended, you didn’t move right away. the next one auto-started, the theme song rolling in again, and you let out a soft hum, like maybe you were thinking, or maybe you were just full of snacks.

then you said, not looking at him, “we should make this our thing.”

sunghoon turned his head slightly. “what thing?”

“this,” you said. “watching how i met your mother together.”

he nodded slowly, trying not to seem too eager. “yeah. i’m good with that.”

you finally looked at him, that same easy smile on your face, and then you bumped his knee with yours, not hard, just enough to make sure he was still paying attention. he smiled back, heart doing things he would later try to explain to jay using weird metaphors involving elevators and jelly beans. and just like that, he knew he wasn’t imagining things anymore. or maybe he still was. but either way, it felt kind of real. real enough to sit quietly and let the next episode start, your head on his shoulder, your hand on his knee, and the thought in his head that maybe, finally, this wasn’t just another almost.

after that first night, watching how i met your mother together became a thing, not officially, not scheduled, not even discussed really, but it kept happening. every couple of days, one of you would text and the other would know exactly what it meant. snacks were expected, drinks too, sometimes takeout, sometimes just popcorn and half a leftover soda, but always the same couch, always the same routine.

it didn’t start out that physical, but over time, the way you sat next to each other got… closer. more relaxed. you got comfortable first, you always did. you’d throw your legs across his lap like it meant nothing, lean your head on his shoulder when you were too lazy to sit straight, or curl into his side like it was the most natural place to be. and sunghoon would freeze every time, nod like he was fine, then immediately go into full internal system reboot. he’d sit there pretending to be unaffected, nodding at the tv with the intensity of someone watching a government briefing, while you poked his knee or played with the drawstring of his hoodie like it was just a fidget toy. and he never stopped you. not once. not even when you fell asleep on his arm and drooled slightly on his hoodie sleeve. (he washed it the next day but also kind of wanted to keep it that way. he didn't tell anyone that.)

you were always the one to touch first. he was always the one to overthink it. but then one night, it was raining a little outside, and the apartment was warm, and you'd made tea for both of you for some reason, even though neither of you usually drank tea during sitcom reruns. the lights were low, the episode was one of those emotional ones where ted was being dramatic about someone leaving, and you were curled up right next to him, knee pressed to his thigh, blanket half over your lap and half over his. you looked like you might fall asleep again, but you weren’t. you were just quiet and calm, and sunghoon, in a moment of bravery that he didn’t plan and definitely didn’t rehearse, lifted his arm and rested it around your shoulders, not awkwardly, not halfway, but all the way around. solid, like he meant it.

you didn’t react for a second, then shifted under his arm and leaned your head onto his chest without saying anything. you didn’t joke, you didn’t make it weird. you just rested there like you’d been waiting for him to do that for a while. because, well, you were.

he stared at the tv, heart going approximately 800 beats per minute, trying very hard not to mess anything up by existing too loudly.

“this is comfortable,” you mumbled after a moment, voice low.

“yeah,” he said, somehow managing to sound calm even though his brain was short-circuiting. “you have a surprisingly heavy head, by the way.”

you snorted. “excuse me?”

“it’s not an insult,” he said, trying not to laugh. “it’s just. structurally. very dense.”

“maybe it’s full of all the times you’ve secretly checked me out and thought i didn’t notice.”

he blinked. actually blinked. then coughed, because his throat forgot how to function. “what— i— that’s—”

you laughed. you were clearly not taking it that seriously. you were just being you, casually flirty in a way that felt like breathing. and he could have just let it go, he could’ve rolled his eyes and changed the subject and moved on like he always did. but for some reason, this time, he didn’t.

“if i was checking you out,” he said, still looking at the screen, “i wouldn’t do it secretly.”

you looked up at him a little, one eyebrow raised, that half-smile forming on your face, the one you used when you caught him saying something he clearly hadn’t meant to say out loud. “oh?” you said. simple and amused. a bit dangerous.

sunghoon realized what he’d just said about five seconds too late, and he wanted to disappear into the couch, but it was too late now. the sentence was out there, floating in the air. you didn’t say anything for a moment. just shifted again, a little closer this time, your arm settling across his stomach casually, like this was fine, like this was good, and maybe it was. he didn’t say anything else. neither did you. the episode kept playing.

but the energy had shifted just slightly, like something had tilted in the right direction. and for once, sunghoon didn’t try to fix it or overthink it or joke it away. he just sat there, with your head on his chest, your arm across him, and the feeling that maybe, somehow, he’d just started something without even meaning to. and the best part was that you didn’t seem to mind at all.

and it was after that night on the couch that sunghoon started getting a little braver. not confident movie character braver, just small steps. like brushing your hair out of your face without immediately apologizing for it. or letting his hand stay on your knee when you sat close. or making comments that maybe sounded flirty but were delivered in such a deadpan voice that it took you a second to realize he was being serious.

he started leaning in more when you talked. he started answering your texts faster without pretending to wait five minutes like he used to. he made playlists and shared them without labeling them something obvious like songs that make me think of your face (he wanted to, but he didn’t). he was still himself, still sunghoon, still deeply confused most of the time, but there was something about that night that made him feel like maybe you wouldn’t run if he actually tried.

a few weeks later, there was a night out. the bar under the apartment again. the usual crew, some people from college, a couple new friends no one really remembered inviting. sunghoon had no idea what they were celebrating. he asked twice. jay said something about a work promotion, jake said it was just friday, and someone else said it was heeseung’s cousin’s birthday. none of it felt convincing.

but it didn’t matter. everyone was drinking, someone had ordered two baskets of fries “for the table,” and you were sitting next to sunghoon, laughing at something he’d said that wasn’t even a joke, and your hand was on his thigh like it belonged there. and sunghoon, for once, didn’t freeze. he leaned toward you, nudged your shoulder with his, and made some dumb comment about the song playing, but you laughed anyway, then leaned your head briefly on his shoulder and left it there just long enough to make his brain forget how to function for a bit.

everyone else was shouting over each other. jay was trying to convince jake to join him in some tequila shot competition that wasn’t a real thing. jungwon was filming something on his phone that would definitely not make sense in the morning. and sunghoon was sitting there thinking about how your fingers kept tracing circles on his knee, very casually, very slowly, like you weren’t even thinking about it.

and then (of course, because the universe has a sense of humor), some guy appeared, tall. friendly-looking, clearly a few drinks in. not part of your group. he walked up and said something to you. sunghoon didn’t catch the first part, just the tone: the slightly too smooth, trying-too-hard kind of tone. you laughed politely, the way people do when they’re trying not to encourage. the guy leaned in closer, asked your name. said something else that sunghoon couldn’t fully hear but saw you shift a little in response. and something in his stomach tightened. 

he wasn’t mad. he wasn’t even surprised. people liked you, obviously. you were warm and funny and way too pretty for him to be sitting next to you in the first place. it wasn’t the guy’s fault, he didn’t know anything. sunghoon should’ve done this months ago, if he had the courage to do it. still, he went quiet. he looked down at his drink, then at you, then back at the guy. he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do something. you weren’t his, there were no rules.

the guy kept talking. not aggressive, just persistent. you were still smiling, but it looked tighter now. less amused, more tired. and then, suddenly, you turned slightly, reached over, and rested your hand on sunghoon’s arm.

“hey,” you said, looking right at the guy. “sorry, my boyfriend gets kinda jealous.”

and you said it so calmly, so casually. like it was the truth. like this was normal. like sunghoon was your boyfriend and not just the guy who once forgot how to speak when you tied your hair up in front of him. the guy blinked, looked at sunghoon, who was now frozen mid-sip of his drink, cup halfway to his mouth.

sunghoon nodded once. not too fast, just enough to sell it. “yeah,” he said, voice steady. “super jealous. very possessive. not proud of it.”

you gave him the smallest side glance, clearly trying not to laugh, and squeezed his arm like you’re doing great, keep going, oscar-worthy stuff. the guy held up his hands like no worries, totally cool, and backed off without drama. he disappeared into the crowd.

the second he was gone, you looked at sunghoon and grinned. “thanks for playing along.”

he blinked. “yeah. of course.”

“you did the jealous boyfriend voice really well.”

“it’s just my regular voice,” he muttered, eyes still on his drink.

you leaned your chin on his shoulder for a second. “maybe you should use it more often.”

he didn’t say anything. mostly because his entire internal system was shutting down again. but this time, he wasn’t panicking, not really. his heart was definitely doing some weird rhythmic gymnastics and his brain had already started drafting a completely unnecessary analysis titled "what does it mean when she fake-calls you her boyfriend but then also holds your arm and looks at you like that," but he wasn’t spiraling. not in the usual sense.

so he just sat there, letting the noise of the bar blur around him, while you sipped the rest of your drink like nothing happened. and maybe for you, nothing had. maybe it was just a line, a joke. a way to get rid of an annoying guy without a scene. or maybe it was something else. something between the lines. something you weren’t saying out loud yet either.

“i want a terrible burger,” you said suddenly, finishing the last of your soda and setting the cup down with dramatic finality. “like, a bad one. like, i want to regret it in the morning.”

sunghoon blinked, pulled back into reality. “what, like… fast food bad?”

“exactly,” you said, eyes lighting up. “like wendy’s. i want to see a sad lettuce leaf in my sandwich.”

he snorted. “that’s oddly specific.”

you stood up and grabbed your jacket. “come on, boyfriend. let’s go to wendy’s.”

he didn’t correct you. he just followed you out, tossing a quick goodbye to the group still half-yelling about tequila, and stepped into the night air that felt colder than it should’ve after all that body heat and bar lighting. you walked a few blocks, mostly in silence, still a little buzzed but in that sleepy, satisfied way that made everything feel slower. then, right as you were crossing an empty street, you reached out and grabbed his hand. not in a performative way, you just took it, like it was there and you felt like holding it. like you remembered the fake-boyfriend story and decided to keep the bit going. or maybe not, maybe you just wanted to.

“you’re doing great, by the way,” you said, fingers laced through his like it meant nothing. “very convincing. the protective arm thing? ten out of ten.”

he glanced down at your hands still together. he nodded slowly. “i studied for the role.”

you grinned. “you’re a natural.”

he tried not to think too hard about it, but of course he did anyway. because holding hands wasn’t a big deal. except it was, except it was a big deal when it was you. but he kept walking next to you, hand in hand, and his brain just quietly melted. you were still holding his hand. you pointed at the wendy’s sign ahead like it was a beacon of hope. “we feast,” you declared.

he laughed under his breath, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with all the emotions bouncing around in his chest. he didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know what this meant. but he knew he wanted more of this — your hand, your jokes, your version of terrible food decisions. and maybe that was enough for now.

the wendy’s was almost empty, just a sleepy guy mopping the floor in the corner and a cashier humming quietly behind the counter. you walked straight to the self-ordering kiosk with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before, tapping the screen. sunghoon stood behind you, close enough that he could read the menu too, but mostly because the screen was small and the space was narrow. it wasn’t like he planned it, he just stepped forward once and then didn’t step back.

you didn’t seem to mind. you were scrolling through the combo options, talking to yourself. “okay, nuggets are too risky. fries, obviously. double cheeseburger, or do you want the one with the weird barbecue sauce again?” you didn’t turn around, just asked, still facing the screen, “what do you want?”

and he wasn’t thinking. not in a conscious way. he was just staring at the back of your head, at the way your shirt was falling off one shoulder slightly, at how close you were, at how warm his chest felt from where you were just standing in front of it like it was nothing.

so he said it. like it wasn’t anything at all.

“you.”

you laughed immediately. the kind of laugh that came out of your nose and mouth at the same time, short and surprised and familiar. you kept tapping the screen like you hadn’t heard him properly, or like he was joking. but sunghoon didn’t laugh, he didn’t say anything else. and you paused.

you turned around slowly, still half-grinning, clearly ready to tease him, but then you looked up and saw that he wasn’t grinning back. he was just looking down at you, like this wasn’t a joke. like he didn’t care that it was happening next to a laminated poster of a frosty.

and something in your expression shifted too. the smile faded, but not in a bad way, just softened, slowed down. like whatever you’d been holding back was now impossible to keep behind the usual banter. so you stared at him for a second, head tilted slightly, like you were trying to decide if you were allowed to do what you were about to do.

and then you did it anyway. you reached up, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and pulled him down toward you. not roughly, not urgently, just with purpose, and he didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it, didn’t even breathe before his mouth was on yours.

he didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t hesitate, didn’t calculate angles or worry about logistics, which was rare for him. he just moved. his heart was doing something that felt like a cross between a drum solo and a panic attack. he could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck, which was annoying because that always happened when he was nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now because your face was right there and your lips were already on his and he was kissing you.

he was kissing you. okay. okay. this was happening.

his first thought was that your lips were soft, which was so cliché and unoriginal he immediately scolded himself internally, but then he had no time to think of anything better because your hands were still on his hoodie, still holding him close, and his own hands had instinctively gone to your waist and stayed there like they knew what to do even though his brain absolutely did not. 

it was warm. not just physically, but in that weird way where everything around him felt quiet all of a sudden, even though there was still the distant hum of the soda machine and the soft squeak of the mop across the tile floor. the kiss wasn’t perfect, his nose got in the way a little. he turned his head too far at first and had to readjust, which made him silently panic for a second like wait did i ruin it did she notice oh my god i bumped her tooth, but you didn’t pull back, you just leaned in more.

your mouth tasted like sprite and some other food vaguely artificial and it should’ve been gross but somehow it wasn’t. somehow it just felt real and simple. like this was something you did, apparently. kissed each other now. this was now part of the routine.

his hands gripped your sides gently like he was making sure you didn’t vanish. he didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. three seconds? ten? a full minute? he couldn’t tell. time had stopped cooperating with him. all he knew was that you were kissing him like you meant it, like this wasn’t an accident or a joke or a weird side quest in a long friendship. like this was on purpose.

his brain tried to catch up the entire time. there were at least four full thoughts bouncing around at once, all useless:

1. what if this is a dream and i wake up and i’m still on the couch with chips on my chest.

2. i don’t know what to do with my thumbs. why do thumbs exist?

3. i can’t believe she just kissed me next to a wendy’s totem.

4. i don’t want this to stop.

and then, eventually, it did stop.

you pulled back just slightly, enough to breathe, enough to look up at him. but you didn’t move away. you stayed close, like you weren’t done, like you just needed a second. so he stood there, hands still on your waist, completely unsure of what his face was doing. his mouth might’ve been slightly open, he didn’t know. his thoughts were still lagging a full minute behind his body.

you looked at him and said, “so that’s how we’re doing this now.”

his brain was still stuck on the kiss, but he blinked, nodded once, and somehow said, “apparently.” you tilted your head just a little, searching his face for something, and he realized he probably looked like a deer that had wandered into traffic and liked it. he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out low and uneven when he said, “i’m not complaining.”

you exhaled slowly, and then you smiled again, this time real and unguarded and a little too big. “first kiss next to a wendy’s kiosk. this is what dreams are made of.”

“honestly,” he said, “it’s probably the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me in a fast food place.”

you laughed, resting your forehead briefly against his chest. “mine too. tragically.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy again, but it wasn’t the bad kind of shy. it was the kind that made him want to say things he’d been sitting on for weeks. “so,” he started, “there’s something else i should probably admit.”

you looked up. “okay?”

he hesitated. “you know that gym across my street? the one you’ve been defending for months?”

you narrowed your eyes. “yeah…”

he cleared his throat. “so. uh. i was the one taking it back every time. team valor. red guy with the dragonite.”

your mouth dropped open slightly. “you’re shadyhoon420?”

he winced. “in my defense, i made that username in like 2018. it was funny then.”

“it’s still funny now,” you said, shaking your head. “i thought shadyhoon420 was some twelve-year-old with too much free time.”

“nope,” he said. “twenty-something with unresolved competitive issues.”

you laughed again, full-body this time, like you couldn’t believe it. “you were trolling me for months.”

“i was trying to win,” he said. “you were annoyingly good.”

“you were annoying in general.”

“and yet here we are,” he said, glancing down at you, still tucked into his chest. “making out in a wendy’s.”

you rolled your eyes, but not in the real way. more like you were trying not to grin again. your hands were still holding onto the front of his hoodie, like letting go didn’t feel necessary yet. and he didn’t want you to. his hands hadn’t moved either, they were still resting on your waist, warm and steady, like his body knew what his brain was still trying to accept, that this wasn’t hypothetical anymore, it was real. it had happened. you kissed him, and he kissed you back.

he didn’t say anything else right away. not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because he was still sorting through the fact that for weeks, maybe longer, he’d been inching closer to you in little ways — a leg under the blanket, a hand brushing yours, a text that was maybe too honest — and now suddenly there was no more guessing. you’d pulled him in. you kissed him. you’d looked him in the face like you were just as tired of waiting.

and somehow it wasn’t weird, it wasn’t awkward. it didn’t feel like something they’d both laugh off tomorrow and pretend didn’t happen. it felt like something that had been quietly building in the background, so slowly neither of them had wanted to be the one to name it out loud, until you just did.

and now he was standing there, still in your arms, still close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his neck, realizing that something had already started. not five minutes ago. not in the middle of the kiss, but way earlier. maybe on that first night on the couch. maybe the first time you texted him about something dumb at 2 a.m. or maybe the first time you knocked his leg with yours and didn’t move it away. and whatever it was, it wasn’t a maybe anymore.

and honestly, standing there in front of a glowing touchscreen that still said “order now” in giant, red font, that felt exactly right. because of course it would be like this, not planned, not perfect. just stupidly casual and somehow kind of perfect anyway.

you pulled away first, but only a little, and said, “okay, romantic moment over. i’m starving.”

“yeah,” sunghoon said, blinking back into functionality. “same.”

you turned back to the kiosk, finally placing the order, laughing again when he insisted on extra fries “because i feel emotionally vulnerable and carbs help.” you didn’t make fun of him. you just nodded like, yeah, that tracks. and when the food came out, you grabbed the tray and headed to the corner booth, the one you two always sat in when the place was empty, which it still was. it felt like your booth now, like it had seen things, like it knew too much.

you sat down first, immediately curling one leg under yourself and holding the burger with two hands like it was sacred. sunghoon sat next to you, not across, not leaving space, but right beside you like always, except this time, his arm went around your shoulders the second he sat down, no hesitation, no awkward pause. and you didn’t just lean into him like before. you really leaned.

your head dropped to his shoulder for a second before you took your first bite, and he felt your whole body relax against his like this was exactly where you wanted to be, and it wasn’t like before. it wasn’t just a friendly lean or a casual touch, it was closer. it felt like something that had been waiting to happen and now finally had.

you both ate in silence for a minute, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty. it was full of whatever this new thing was between you. you passed fries back and forth like it was muscle memory. he picked the pickles off your sandwich without being asked. you stole his soda without warning. and he didn’t flinch when your hand found his leg under the table and stayed there. you’d done this before. sat like this, shared food, leaned into each other, stayed late until the lights started flickering. but tonight it felt different, for very kissy obvious reasons.

sunghoon looked over at you once, mid-bite, and you caught him staring. you smiled with your mouth full and said, “don’t get all sappy on me.”

he shrugged. “too late.”

you shook your head and leaned into him again, chewing quietly, like it was no big deal. but he knew it was, and he knew this was only the beginning. and he also knew — later, when you were walking home and holding hands again like it was completely natural — that he was fully, entirely, probably hopelessly into you. and he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore.

the weeks after that night at wendy’s were weird in the least dramatic way possible. nothing major changed. you were still texting dumb questions to each other and you were still stealing his fries like they were community property. but now you kissed him, now he could hold your hand without pretending he was reaching for something else. now he could rest his chin on top of your head when you were sitting on the couch and no one would say anything sarcastic about it. it was new, but it also felt like it had already been there the whole time, just waiting for someone to label it.

sunghoon had fully expected to be awkward about it. and to be fair, sometimes he was. he still got weirdly quiet when you called him “babe” for the first time, and he once accidentally called you “dude” right after kissing you and spent the next two hours apologizing. but mostly, things were good, comfortable and fun.

you started doing more couple-y stuff without needing to make it A Thing. you grocery shopped together, you did laundry at the same time, folded each other’s hoodies like an old married couple, and argued over the right way to hang dry t-shirts. you went to a mini golf place that was weirdly intense about rules, and sunghoon realized you were more competitive than him, which was saying something.

he started to show you more of the things he usually kept to himself. like his half-written playlist ideas. like the folder of blurry phone videos he took of you without meaning to. like the fact that he still had a high score on fruit ninja and was proud of it. and one night, after you’d been watching some random youtube rabbit hole of early 2000s pop rock videos and you said, “ugh i forgot how much i loved mcfly,” sunghoon sat there in silence for a second before quietly saying, “i need to play falling in love for you.”

he played it slowly, a little shakily. he forgot a chord halfway through and mumbled something that wasn’t a word, but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t make fun of him. you just sat there listening like it was your favorite thing he’d ever done. and when he finished, you kissed his cheek and said, “you’re disgusting. i love it.”

after that, he stopped holding back so much. he let himself be more flirty, more open, more ridiculous. and to his surprise, you were just as bad, maybe worse. you texted him things like “miss ur dumb face” even if you’d seen him three hours ago. you’d randomly send voice notes where you just said “hi” in different tones and asked him to rate them.

and that’s when sunghoon realized something big: you were just as emotionally reckless as him.

you made plans too early. you got soft too fast. you saved pictures of things that reminded you of him and showed them later like it was nothing. and he was so used to being the one who caught feelings first that it completely broke his brain a little. so he started noticing it in small things. like how you’d always scoot closer to him even if there was already zero space left on the couch. or how you remembered random things he said in passing and brought them up a week later like they were important. or how your entire face changed when he walked into a room, even if you were pretending to be cool about it.

and then one night, when you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, he blurted something out without meaning to. “did you and heeseung ever date?”

you looked up, blinked. “what?”

“i mean,” he said quickly, “not that it matters now. i just. i always kinda thought there was something there. like before.” you chewed slowly, still staring at him. “like,” he continued, clearly panicking now, “not in a jealous way. i just thought maybe you two had a thing. the way you talked. i don’t know. i used to overthink it. a lot. i almost stopped talking to you once because of it. which is dumb. very dumb.”

you swallowed, still looking at him like he’d just admitted he once ate a shoe. then you said, “sunghoon. heeseung and i bonded over the fact that we both had a crush on the same person.”

he blinked. “wait. what?”

“it was you.” he stared at you, spoon halfway to his mouth, not moving. “i’m kidding,” you said, snorting. “he had a crush on someone else. i just liked you. he used to give me pep talks about it.”

sunghoon’s brain did not know what to do with that information. “so… you liked me back then?”

“yeah,” you said, chewing again. “obviously.”

he was quiet for a long second. then: “cool.”

you smiled at him, mouth full, and kicked his foot under the table. he kicked you back. and that was that.

the first time you and sunghoon went out with everyone again, it was a thursday night. which already made it feel less official, like no one could accuse anyone of being too romantic if it was a weeknight. you and sunghoon had been in your thing for a few weeks now, whatever it was. there still wasn’t a label. no one had said “we’re dating” or “we’re together.”

but he kissed you when he saw you. he held your hand while you scrolled through takeout menus. he stayed up late with you watching videos of frogs in tiny hats. you were his. i mean, probably. almost definitely. he just hadn’t said it out loud yet and neither had you. and now, somehow, you were going to a bar together like that wasn’t the most emotionally dangerous setting in the world.

sunghoon wasn’t nervous, exactly. but he also had no idea how he was supposed to act. was he supposed to sit next to you or leave a one-person buffer zone? was he allowed to have a hand on your back when you walked in, or was that too much? could he kiss your cheek in public? would that be weird? was not doing it weirder?

you, of course, didn’t seem to be thinking about any of this. you wore that skirt he liked. you stole one of his rings before you left the apartment and didn’t even say anything about it. you walked next to him like nothing was different. and for you, maybe it wasn’t. maybe this was all normal. maybe you were normal. sunghoon, meanwhile, was just trying not to look suspicious.

they got there a little late. jay and jungwon were already posted up at the booth like they'd been born there. jake was at the bar talking to someone who may or may not have been his date, or just someone he was bothering. heeseung was somewhere, probably emotionally observing the room from the shadows like he always did. and as soon as sunghoon and you walked in together, everyone looked up. they all did the same thing: that casual glance, followed by the silent smirk, followed by the overly casual “oh hey, you made it” that clearly meant oh hey, we know what’s going on here.

sunghoon didn’t react, just nodded once, tried to be cool. completely missed the chair when he went to sit down and had to pretend he meant to lean sideways.

jay knew. of course jay knew. jay had known before sunghoon even knew. jungwon knew because jay knew. jake knew because heeseung knew, and heeseung knew because heeseung knew everything. and now all of them knew. all of them were being polite about it, but they knew. the only people who didn’t know that everyone knew were you and sunghoon.

you sat next to him, thigh against his, arm slung casually over the back of the booth, like it was no big deal. like you did this all the time. and maybe you did, now. maybe this was your thing. but sunghoon still didn’t know where to put his hand. he settled for resting it on his leg, then moved it, then put it back. he wanted to put his arm around you. he just didn’t want to make it A Thing.

jay raised an eyebrow across the table, very subtle. sunghoon glared at him. you leaned over and whispered something about the drinks being overpriced and then rested your head against his shoulder for half a second like it was nothing. sunghoon felt every cell in his body shift three degrees to the left. he didn’t even hear what jay was saying. he was too busy pretending to be normal. jungwon looked like he wanted to say something. jake looked like he was writing fanfiction in his head.

someone made a toast. someone spilled something. someone brought fries to the table and you immediately took three and fed one to sunghoon without thinking about it, and that’s when he saw the look on jake’s face. pure glee. jake mouthed awww like a traitor. sunghoon blinked and looked at you. looked at the group and realized: they all knew. they were all just pretending not to know.

he looked down at his fry, chewed slowly. whispered, “we’re not being subtle, are we.”

you looked at him, smiled, and said, “do you want to be?”

he blinked again. “not really.”

you leaned in and kissed his cheek. sunghoon thought he might combust, but in a good way. and across the table, jay, jungwon, and jake all gave each other the most painfully smug looks sunghoon had ever seen. it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. you were still close, your hand was in his lap now. you were talking to heeseung like nothing was happening. sunghoon was still alive (probably). and whatever this thing was between you two, it wasn’t labeled yet. but it was something, and maybe that was enough for now.

you left the bar a little past midnight, not totally sober but not out of it either, that sweet spot where everything was a little funnier and a little louder and no one was ready to admit they were already tired. it wasn’t freezing out, but you still tugged on sunghoon’s sleeve like your arms didn’t work and said, “i’m cold. fix it.” so he handed you his jacket without hesitation, which you immediately put on and did not zip up, because apparently the rules of temperature didn’t apply to you. the sleeves covered your hands and the shoulders were too big and you looked stupidly good in it, which made sunghoon feel something deep in his chest he chose not to name.

you walked in silence for a few steps, close but not touching, until you bumped your hand into his once, twice, and then just took it like it was yours. which, at this point, it basically was. “so,” you said, casual, like you hadn’t already been curled up next to him in a booth for the last three hours, “you wanna come over?”

sunghoon blinked. “like… now?”

you raised an eyebrow. “no, next tuesday.”

he blinked again, because his brain had chosen violence and was now playing a full powerpoint presentation of possible meanings behind that sentence. he was trying very hard to be normal, to just smile and nod and say something charming, but instead he said, “uh-huh. okay. sure. i mean, unless you were just being polite and i—”

“sunghoon.”

“yep.”

“do you wanna come over?”

he nodded, fast. “yeah. yes. definitely.”

you grinned like you knew exactly what he was doing: spiraling, overanalyzing, trying to decide if “come over” meant snacks and a rerun or if it meant come over come over.

your place was a ten-minute walk, but it felt like thirty-five because sunghoon’s brain would not shut up. he wasn’t panicking, not really, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this wasn’t just another hangout. something about the way you asked felt different. something about the way your hand kept tightening around his, like you were already thinking about where it would be once you got upstairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were still holding his hand and sunghoon’s heart was going fast enough that he had to pretend he wasn’t out of breath just from standing there. you unlocked the door and looked at him over your shoulder. “you coming in or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’re being peer pressured by a ghost.”

he stepped inside. “i’ve never been peer pressured by a ghost, for the record.”

you tossed your keys on the counter and kicked off your shoes. “there’s a first time for everything.”

he toed off his sneakers slower, trying to figure out where to stand, what to say, how to breathe like a functioning adult. you pulled off his jacket, handed it back to him, and then did that thing where you walked past him, brushing your hand across his lower back like it didn’t mean anything, even though it absolutely did.

he stared at the floor. then at the fridge. then at you, who was now grabbing two glasses and saying something about trying a new wine that tasted like “grape juice with peach” and he had no idea what it meant or what to do with his hands, or his mouth, or his entire existence. because the truth was: he liked you. he really really really liked you. and he’d been pretending not to want more, not to think about what it’d be like to stay over, to fall asleep next to you and wake up next to you and maybe never go home again. he’d been pretending it was casual. because pretending was safer, pretending didn’t risk messing anything up.

and now here you were, in your apartment, handing him a glass of bad wine and looking at him like you were waiting to see if he’d finally catch up. “you okay?” you asked, leaning against the counter, glass in hand, looking a little too pretty for someone under yellow kitchen lighting.

he cleared his throat. “me? yeah. totally fine. great. really calm.”

you tilted your head. “you sure?”

“yep.”

you walked over slowly, standing in front of him now, wine still in one hand, the other reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead. “you’re freaking out.”

“i’m not,” he said, eyes wide.

“you are.”

“i’m— okay, i’m slightly freaking out.”

you smiled and leaned in, close enough that your breath hit his neck. “wanna know a secret?”

“always,” he said, voice lower than he meant it to be, because everything about this moment was doing something strange to his brain.

you leaned in just a little more, like you were going to whisper something, and he instinctively tilted his head toward you, breath caught, waiting. “i’ve been thinking about kissing you all night,” you said, soft but direct, like you were telling him something about the weather. “like, not just kissing. you know.”

sunghoon froze for a second. not cartoon-style. just momentarily lost control of every muscle in his body. his first instinct was to deflect, make a joke, say something stupid. throw himself out the window, maybe. but he didn’t, not this time. because his second instinct — the real one, the one under all the fake calm — was to kiss you right now. fully and properly, like he hadn’t been holding back for weeks.

you raised an eyebrow, watching him short-circuit, and said, “too much?”

he shook his head. “no. i just. wow. okay.”

“you okay?” you asked again, but this time there was a small smile on your lips, and it was very clear you knew the answer.

he nodded. “yeah. i just wasn’t ready to hear that sentence. and now it’s all i’m hearing.”

you laughed a little and stepped even closer, your body brushing up against his. “do you want me to say it again?”

he swallowed hard. “maybe later.”

you bit your lip, not in a calculated way, just like it was a reflex, and something about that made something snap a little inside him. he set his glass down on the counter, gently, like he needed both hands for whatever was about to happen. then he looked at you and said, “i don’t really want to keep pretending i’m not into you in a completely embarrassing way.”

“good,” you said, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt now, slow, testing. “because i was getting kinda tired of pretending not to notice.”

he leaned in finally, mouth close to yours but not quite there yet, and asked, “so we’re not pretending anymore?”

“nah,” you whispered. “let’s be very real.”

and that’s when he kissed you. not like before, not soft or quick or questioning. this one was different. his hands were on your waist, pulling you in like he was done pretending you weren’t all he’d been thinking about. your hands slid up his chest and curled behind his neck, like you were grounding yourself. like you’d been waiting for this, too.

at some point, you mumbled something against his mouth — maybe his name, maybe just a sound — and he breathed out a quiet “god, you make me crazy” before he could even think about it.

you pulled back just slightly, eyes a little dazed, and said, “you’re gonna say stuff like that and then expect me to behave?”

“no,” he said, already leaning in again. “definitely not.”

you were backing him toward the hallway now, hand still tangled in his hair, mouth still on his, and every nerve in his body was firing off in every direction at once, but none of it felt panicked anymore. it just felt like finally. like this was where all of it had been leading: the late nights, the inside jokes, the pretending-not-to-care casual touches that had never really been casual at all.

sunghoon's back bumped softly into the wall and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. your body was pressed to his now, fully, and your mouth moved down to his jaw, then to the side of his neck, slow and unhurried, like you were trying to memorize the way he felt. his hands were on your waist, thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt without meaning to, like they’d decided on their own that they wanted more. and the thing was, so did he. he wanted more. not just physically, though that was part of it. but everything, all of it. the way you looked at him like he was worth undivided attention, the way you touched him like you weren’t scared of what it meant, the way you weren’t hesitating now.

he had no idea what he was doing, not really. but it didn’t matter, not with the way your fingers had found their way under his shirt now too, trailing up his ribs like you were checking if he was real. he was starting to think he wasn’t. you leaned back just enough to look at him, your face close, breathing uneven. “you good?” you asked, voice low, teasing, but still somehow gentle.

he nodded, barely. “yeah. i just…” you waited, eyes flicking to his lips again, like you already knew what he was about to say. “i really want you,” he said, quiet but steady, “and i’m trying not to freak out about it.”

you smiled, something softer now, less teasing, and leaned in again, your mouth brushing his as you said, “then don’t.”

and he didn’t. he kissed you again, deeper this time, one hand sliding up your back, the other staying low on your waist, anchoring you to him. you pulled him away from the wall slowly, guiding him back toward your room with nothing but your body pressed into his and the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting just as long. his hands were shaking a little, but not in a bad way. in the way that came from finally letting go of all the restraint he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying.

you turned around once, just before stepping through the door, and looked at him, not playful this time, not challenging, just full of whatever this was between you. then you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and he followed, heart pounding, completely undone by how easy it felt to say yes to you.

he followed you into the room, one of his hands went straight to your waist, pulling you in again, and the other slid into your hair like he was finally done pretending he didn’t want to touch you like this. you looked up at him, mouth parted, breathing a little uneven now, like maybe you weren’t expecting him to get like this, not this sure of himself. “you okay?” he asked, echoing your earlier words, voice low now and just barely smug. “you’re looking a little... distracted.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard for half a second. “you think you’re funny now?”

“no,” he said, fingers slipping under the back of your shirt as he leaned in, “i think i’m winning.”

you didn’t say anything. just kissed him again, rougher this time, like you were challenging him to keep up, and he did. he moved with you, pressed into you, kissed you back like he finally knew he could. he walked you backward without breaking the kiss, hands firm on your waist, pushing you gently until your legs hit the edge of the bed. you sat first, pulling him down with you, and he smiled against your mouth as you tugged at his shirt like you were losing patience.

“you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?” he murmured against your throat, voice dark and teasing, lips brushing that spot right under your jaw that made your knees weak. you didn’t answer, just mouthed at his neck in retaliation. he chuckled. “yeah,” he whispered. “me too. been losing my mind over you.”

“shut up,” you said, though your hands were already sliding under the hem of his shirt.

“make me,” he said, and you actually laughed, this breathless, surprised sound that turned into a half-moan when his mouth found that spot below your jaw you didn’t even know was there. he pulled back for a second, just long enough to look at you. your hair was a little messy, your lips were red, your hands were still on him, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent so many nights trying to act casual about you.

and sunghoon — who had once nearly passed out just from you holding his hand at wendy’s — now had you under him, fingers teasing at your waistband, mouth trailing along your collarbone, fully lost in the way you were looking at him like you wanted everything at once.

you shifted under him, hips tilting up slightly. his hands were more confident now, not just hovering or tracing but gripping, like he didn’t want to miss any part of you. one hand slid up under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and he felt you tense just a little, then relax into it completely.

you tugged him closer, thighs parting so he could fit between them, and he fit there like he belonged, grinding down slowly, testing. your breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders, and that did something to him. he groaned quietly, not on purpose, and you caught it. your fingers were in his hair again, tugging a little now, and he swore under his breath when your teeth grazed his bottom lip. your shirt was pushed up now, not off yet, but enough for his hands to explore, and his mouth followed the trail — slow kisses down your neck, then across your chest, lingering just long enough to make you arch into him. your breath hitched again, and he looked up at you, completely gone.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, serious for a second, low and right against your skin.

you shook your head. “don’t.”

​​your hands were under his shirt now, greedy and warm, and he let out a shaky breath as you slid them up his back. “fuck,” he muttered. “you feel so good—better than i ever imagined.” he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he wanted to memorize your mouth. “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. can’t believe i get to touch you.”

your shirt was off now, just tugged over your head and dropped somewhere behind you, and sunghoon stared for maybe a second longer than he meant to. not out of shock, but because he couldn’t believe you were real. that this was real. that this was actually happening. and then you reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers cool against his stomach, and that was it, he was done pretending he had a single functioning thought left in his head.

he let you pull it over his head, arms moving clumsily, breath already shallow. your hands were on his skin before the fabric even hit the floor, sliding up over his chest, across his shoulders, and he had to physically stop himself from just collapsing into you. you bit your lip when his hips rolled into yours again, slower this time, like he was testing the friction. your breath caught, and you arched into him without thinking. “hoon…”

his whole body shuddered when you said his name like that. “god, you sound so good,” he breathed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” his hands were back on your waist now, warm and grounding, and he kissed you again, slower, sweeter, like he wanted to savor the taste of you. “you’re not gonna get rid of me after this, you know,” he whispered into your mouth. “not after i’ve had you like this.”

you smiled a little, breathless. “who said i wanted to get rid of you?”

that made him pause for a second, just to look at you again, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “jesus,” he muttered. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

you pulled him down for another kiss, hands slipping lower, dragging your fingers across the waistband of his pants. he groaned when your palm brushed over him through the fabric, hips twitching like he couldn’t help it. “fuck, baby,” he hissed, “you’re making it really hard to be gentle.”

“then don’t be.”

he let out this low, disbelieving laugh like you’d just told him the best secret in the world. tugging your skirt and panties down, he kissed his way along your hips and lower, dragging his mouth over your skin like he was savoring you already. “every part of you… perfect,” he whispered, eyes flicking up just once to see your chest rising, lips parted. “i wanna touch you everywhere.”

and he meant it. ​​his hands were warm and steady, spreading over your thighs, your waist, your stomach, exploring you like you were something rare. he took his time, like he’d waited too long to rush now, brushing his fingers gently along your inner thigh, coaxing goosebumps to rise under his touch. you were already shivering with anticipation when he kissed the inside of your knee, then higher, then higher again.

you whimpered, hips lifting involuntarily, and he kissed down your stomach slowly, lips dragging over your skin like a promise. his hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking gently over the soft skin there. then he paused, and his eyes flicked up to yours, darker now, but still so soft. 

“can i taste you?” he asked, voice quiet but low with need. “please, baby. i need it.” your breath caught. your fingers threaded through his hair almost instinctively as you nodded, thighs parting just a little in silent answer. “yeah?” he breathed, kissing the inside of your thigh. “you’ll let me take care of you?”

“yes,” you whispered, already trembling. “sunghoon, please.”

he groaned, like that was all he needed to hear. “thank you,” he murmured, kissing higher. “gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

and then his mouth was on you, tongue sliding between your folds with that slow, deliberate stroke, and your whole body jolted under him.

“fuck—so sweet,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. his fingers came up to part you gently, spreading you open so he could really taste you. “you’re unreal, baby. can you feel how wet you are for me?”

you gasped, back arching, one hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. he groaned again when you tugged, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from you. he licked into you like he was starved for it, slow at first, methodical, dragging his tongue in long strokes and humming low when your thighs tensed around his shoulders. then, when he sucked your clit into his mouth, you cried out, hips bucking off the bed, and he held you down firmly, not letting up for a second.

“that’s it,” he said against you, his breath hot and his tone ragged. “so fucking good for me.”

you couldn’t even speak, just moaned and gasped, feeling your whole body coil tighter and tighter as he kept working you over with that perfect mouth. your thighs were trembling now, breath shaky, every nerve strung taut. he reached up, lacing your fingers with his, grounding you just as the pressure tipped over into something explosive. “come for me,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “let me have it.”

and you did. you shattered beneath him, shaking, your body clenching and curling in on itself as the orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. you called his name, half gasp, half cry, pulling at his hair with one hand and squeezing his hand tight with the other. your body stuttered, hips twitching, thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop until your whimpers turned desperate, overstimulated and wrecked.

“okay,” you panted, tugging weakly at his shoulder. “okay—hoon—please…”

he finally pulled back, lips shiny, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely wild with awe. he looked like he’d just seen god, and maybe he had. you. unraveling for him, only for him. “you’re…” he started, voice rough as he crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your chest, your throat, your jaw. “you’re fucking perfect. i’ve never—never wanted someone like this.”

you cupped his face as he hovered over you, and he leaned into your touch instantly, forehead pressed to yours, his breathing still ragged, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. “i’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

you kissed him again, slower this time, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he deepened it with a quiet groan, like he needed to taste you to keep himself grounded. when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes were wild and soft all at once, like he was overwhelmed by you. “feel that?” he murmured, pressing his hips down against yours. “you make me this fucking desperate, baby.”

you gasped when he rolled his hips again, perfectly slow, perfectly cruel. “can still taste you on my lips,” he said, kissing you once more. “i want you to taste it too.” the kiss this time was messier and you could feel yourself melting into it. he kissed you like he wanted you ruined, like he needed you wrecked and shaking and breathless. and you were close already, so close again from just that, from the way he said your name like a secret prayer.

“turn over for me,” he whispered suddenly, voice dipped in reverence. you did, your body trembling a little with anticipation as you shifted onto your stomach, heart racing. he traced your spine with his fingers, slow and deliberate, until both hands settled at your waist. “you’re unreal,” he whispered, and he meant it. “do you know that? the way you sound, the way you feel… i could lose my mind just looking at you.”

he leaned down then, mouth brushing the back of your shoulder, trailing kisses down your spine as his hands slid down, thumbs spreading gently over your hips like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “every time you look at me, every time you laugh… fuck, i’m so gone for you.”

and when he kissed the back of your thigh, slow and lingering, you felt it everywhere, like heat blooming under your skin. “let me take my time with you,” he said, kissing his way back up. “wanna make you feel good. wanna make you remember this.”

you could only nod, breath caught in your throat, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. because sunghoon didn’t just want to touch you, he wanted to worship you. ​​his hands smoothed over your hips, firm but reverent, as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, voice laced with awe. “still so sensitive, aren’t you?” you nodded, cheek pressed to the sheets, body already reacting to the weight of his touch. “but you’re taking it so well,” he whispered, one hand sliding between your thighs, coaxing them apart again. “you’re such a good girl for me.”

you gasped when his fingers found you, already soaked, still fluttering from the last time. “look at this,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through the slick mess he left behind. “this pretty little pussy just begging for more.”

you whined, pressing back against his hand without even meaning to, and he chuckled low behind you. “you want it again?” he asked, voice almost gentle. “need me to make you feel good, baby?”

“yes,” you breathed. “please.”

that was all he needed. he leaned down again, kissing the swell of your ass before spreading you open with both hands. and then he dipped his head, tongue sliding between your folds. you cried out, hips jolting, the sudden pleasure overwhelming. he groaned, licking you from behind like he was starving for it. you buried your face into the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets, the stretch of your body making every sensation sharper.

his hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked you open all over again, licking and sucking with the kind of desperation that made your knees weak. and then his hand slid under you, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as his mouth stayed on you, wet and relentless. 

“that fucking pussy tastes so good,” he praised, voice breathless. “give it to me again. wanna feel you come on my tongue, baby.”

you were already spiraling, the pressure building fast and hot, your whole body wound so tight you could barely breathe. “fuck, sunghoon—i’m—”

and you did, again. shaking, crying out, your body going completely still before collapsing into tremors, overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth and the soft, dirty praise spilling from his lips. he didn’t stop until you were whimpering, twitching under him, begging him to stop, begging him to keep going, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

when he finally pulled back, panting, mouth glistening, he kissed your lower back and whispered: “you’re fucking perfect. i’m not done with you yet.”

he watches you as you turn over slowly, still catching your breath, your skin flushed and glowing, hair sticking to your forehead in messy strands. you’re a vision, wrecked and beautiful, lips swollen, eyes glassy, your chest rising and falling like you’ve just survived something holy. his gaze drags over you, slow, reverent, like he doesn’t know where to look first. like he wants to worship everything.

“fuck,” he breathes. “look at you…” you blink up at him, dazed and buzzing, legs still trembling from the last time he pulled you apart. his hands settle on your waist, grounding you. his thumb rubs soft circles into your skin like he’s easing you back into your body, not rushing, just feeling you.

“can i?” he asks, voice low and hoarse. there’s something almost shy in the way he says it, like he’s trying not to ruin the moment, like despite everything, he still needs to be sure you want this too.

you nod once, still breathless. “yeah,” you whisper. “please.”

his pupils darken, breath stuttering in his chest. the way you say please, oh, he could fall to his knees again just from that. he kisses you, slow at first, deep, aching, his tongue brushing yours like he’s trying to memorize your taste. and then it turns hungry, hands gripping your face like he can’t believe he gets to touch you, like he doesn’t want to come up for air. “you’re everything,” he murmurs against your lips, voice shaky. “i mean it—everything. i wanna make you feel so fucking good again.”

you let out the softest whimper, and that’s all he needs. he kisses down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, leaves open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, taking his time. he’s not in a rush, he wants to savor you. his hand trails down, fingers brushing your inner thigh, and you part your legs for him instinctively. you’re still so sensitive, every little touch making you twitch, your hips lifting up to meet him. “this pretty pussy’s still so wet,” he groans, almost in disbelief. “you’re unreal, baby.”

his fingers slip between your folds again, dragging through the mess he made earlier, and you let out a gasp, hand flying to his wrist. “shh,” he soothes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “i got you. just wanna make you feel good. let me take care of you, yeah?”

you nod, lips parted, already melting under his touch. he kisses you again, messy and hot, and then without warning he slides two fingers in deep, curling them just right. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, hips jerking. “that’s it,” he praises. “fuck, i love how you take me. your pussy is clinching around my fingers, baby.”

his fingers keep working you open, his mouth back on your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin like he wants to leave proof that he was here. and just when you think you’re going to fall apart again, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “you’re mine, right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “please say it, baby”

“i’m yours,” you breathe, and it comes out shaky, desperate.

he groans like he’s losing his mind. “good girl.”

his body hovered over yours, warm and steady, and when your eyes met, something shifted, like the air grew heavier, thick with everything you both had been holding back. he kissed you like a thank you, like a silent prayer, like he couldn’t believe you were real and his all at once. then he leaned back on his knees, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hands down to the waistband of his jeans. he popped the button open with a quiet click, dragging the zipper down slow, teasing, but there was a kind of quiet urgency in his movements too, like he couldn’t wait another second to feel you again.

when he pushed his jeans and boxers down, your breath caught. he was big. thick and flushed and perfect, tip already leaking, heavy against his stomach. your mouth went dry, heat curling low in your belly as you stared, he was so pretty it almost hurt, like every inch of him was made to ruin you.

his eyes watched your face carefully, catching the shift in your expression. “yeah?” he rasped, cock twitching under your gaze. “you like what you see, baby?”

you nodded before you could think, heart hammering, thighs already pressing together. “you’re perfect,” you whispered, almost breathless.

his lips parted at that, something dark and tender flickering behind his eyes. he leaned in, hand wrapping around himself as he hovered over you again, dragging his tip through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, teasing your entrance. “fuck,” he murmured, voice ragged. “say you want me, please.”

“i want you,” you breathed, hips lifting. “hoon—i need you.”

he groaned like the sound of your voice broke something in him. and when he finally sank into you, slow, deliberate, like he wanted to feel every inch of you claiming him back, it stole the air from your lungs. he bottomed out with a shudder, forehead pressed against yours, hand cupping your jaw like he needed the grounding just as much as you did.

his tip presses in first, thick and hot, and even though your body is already soaked and aching for him, the stretch is still overwhelming. your walls flutter around him, trying to pull him deeper, but he takes his time. his hands grip your hips, grounding you as he inches in further, every slow push making your body arch and your breath catch. “fuck—baby,” he chokes, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the way you clench around him. “you feel so good… so tight. taking me so perfectly.”

you can barely hold still. your fingers grip his lower back, your mouth falls open, and a moan tears from your throat, raw, needy, helpless. he leans down, chest brushing yours, and presses soft kisses along your collarbone, whispering into your skin between every word like a prayer. “you’re unreal. unreal, baby. fuck—”

your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him in further, and he groans deep and guttural, like he’s losing control. the last inch pushes in slow, your bodies finally fully connected, the heat between you almost unbearable. you both go still for a second, breath mingling, your hearts racing in sync. your walls flutter around him again, adjusting, and his forehead drops to yours. “you okay?” he breathes, voice wrecked, like it’s taking everything in him not to move.

you nod, eyes glazed. “so full,” you whisper. “feels so good.”

he groans softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “yeah? i’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl. i promise.”

and when he finally starts to move slowly, with deep thrusts that drag against your most sensitive spots, you swear you see stars. his hips roll into yours with precision, his body fitting against you like he was built for this, for you. every stroke hits just right, every whispered praise against your cheek making you melt further into the mattress.

“you’re doing so good,” he pants. “taking me so well. your fucking pussy feels so fucking good around my cock, baby.”

you reached for him with shaking hands, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him up to meet your mouth in a hungry kiss. he groaned when your tongue slid against his, his body still trembling from the last time you came undone under him. but this time, you weren’t just going to take. you wanted to give back, to feel him fall apart for you too.

“lay back, hoon,” you whispered against his lips, voice still wrecked and sweet. “let me ride you.”

his eyes widened slightly, dark and heavy with heat, but he nodded, eager, desperate, completely at your mercy. he sank into the pillows, breath stuttering when you straddled his hips and reached between your bodies to guide him in. you both gasped at the stretch, the slick slide of him filling you again. but now it was your rhythm, your pace. slow at first, grounding yourself on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, letting him feel all of you. his hands gripped your thighs, mouth open in a silent moan as he looked up at you like he was watching something holy.

“fuck, baby,” he breathed. “you feel—jesus, you feel perfect.���

you rolled your hips again, a little faster, loving the way his voice cracked, the way his fingers dug deeper into your skin. his head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, and you leaned down to kiss along his throat, his collarbone, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. “look at me, hoon,” you whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “wanna see your face when you fall apart.”

he did, eyes locking with yours, glassy and wild and reverent all at once. “keep going,” he begged, barely coherent. “just like that. you’re so good. keep riding me, baby. i’m not gonna last.”

you smiled, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, kept grinding, kept giving him everything. and when his hips bucked up and he cried out your name like it was the only word he remembered, you knew you had him, ruined and wrecked and completely yours. “please, baby, i need,” he begged, barely coherent. “let me cum inside you, fuck— i need to fill you up, princess.”

you smiled and nodded, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, grinding down on him with a rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge. his hands roamed your body like he couldn’t get enough, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. like he needed to memorize you. “fuck, look at you,” he groaned, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “riding me so good. taking me so deep. this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

you nodded, dazed, moaning as you bounced harder, chasing the high that was coiling tight in your belly again. and he didn’t stop talking, not for a second. “you feel that, baby? how tight you are around me? fuck, i’m losing it,” he breathed, voice rough and reverent. “you’re gonna make me cum inside you, such a good girl, fuck!”

you leaned down, kissed him hard, swallowing the broken sounds spilling from his mouth. he kissed you back like he needed it to breathe, tongue desperate, hands sliding up to cup your face. you were already there, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, body shaking from how deep he was hitting, how full he made you feel. and when you clenched around him again, when your orgasm hit with dizzying force, he lost it with you, hips stuttering, hands gripping your ass as he came with a strangled moan, burying his face in your neck while he filled you up.

you held each other, trembling, hearts racing. you were still catching your breath, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, when he slid out of you, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to let you go just yet. you barely had time to whimper at the sudden emptiness before he was shifting, lying back against the pillows with a look in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“come here,” he murmured, voice hoarse, one hand trailing down your spine. you blinked at him, legs weak, but then he grinned, lazy and wicked, and pulled you up gently by the hips. “wanna taste you like this,” he said, guiding you forward until your thighs were straddling his face. “wanna feel the mess you made all over me.”

your breath caught. “sunghoon—”

“shh,” he whispered, eyes dark and blown wide. “you’ve been so good for me. let me be good for you now.”

he didn’t wait for permission this time. his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto his mouth like he’d been starving for it. his tongue was filthy, flat and firm and everywhere, licking you clean, then messy again, kissing and sucking and moaning against your skin like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

you cried out, hips rolling without thought, thighs trembling around his head. and he took it, wanted it, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. “fuck—sunghoon,” you gasped, one hand in his hair, the other braced on the headboard.

he groaned into you, the sound vibrating through your core. “that’s it, baby. ride my face. come on—fuckin’ use me.” 

your thighs shook harder with every swipe of his tongue, every slick, obscene noise echoing in the room, and when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked just right, your whole body went rigid. and when he pressed his nose around your clit and held your hips and made you grind around his face, oh god, you lost it. “that’s it,” he murmured, breathless and soaked, licking you through it. “come all over my face, baby. let me feel you fall apart again.”

and you did again. and again. until your body gave out, and you collapsed into him, trembling, boneless, his arms around your waist, kissing your thighs like they were sacred.

“you’re unreal,” he whispered, voice thick with awe. “how the fuck did i get so lucky?”

his grip softened as he felt you tremble above him, and when you finally started to come down, your thighs still quivering around his face, he slowed. but his mouth didn’t stop. he kept kissing you with soft, kitten licks, gentle, rhythmic, like he was savoring every last drop of you. little hums vibrated against your skin as he pressed sweet, worshipful kisses between your folds, almost lazy now, like he was calming you down with his tongue.

you gasped softly, too sensitive, your hips twitching with every warm, delicate lick. “can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against your heat, nuzzling between your thighs. “you taste like heaven, baby.”

he let go of your waist just enough to guide you off him, helping you lie down on the mattress with shaky limbs. and then, slow, almost reverent, he climbed over you. he kissed your inner thighs first, lips soft and warm and open. then the swell of your hips, your stomach, your ribs. each kiss was slow and full of something deeper, like he was memorizing you now, not just your body but you, soaking in every inch.

“my pretty girl,” he murmured against your skin. “my favorite thing in the world.”

his mouth reached your chest, kissing over your heart, then up the column of your throat, slow and smiling. by the time he reached your lips again, your eyes were already fluttering shut, your body humming with warmth. he kissed you sweetly, lovingly. no rush. just the kind of kiss that said you’re mine, i’ve got you, i’m still here. and when you sighed into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, he whispered, “i want to make you so happy.”

you were both lying there, still breathing a little unevenly, not quite ready to move. the room was warm in that quiet, post-everything way. your leg was draped over his without thinking, one of his hands resting on your stomach, steady now, grounding. the other hovered in the space between your ribs and your hip, like he wanted to touch more of you but didn’t want to push anything too far than he already did. 

and sunghoon wasn’t staring on purpose, he just couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair was messy. your skin was warm. you had that look on your face like you were pretending to be calm but weren’t. and he couldn’t stop replaying the last hour in his head, not even the specifics, just the fact that it happened. it happened, you happened, with him.

you wanted him. he couldn’t believe it. because this wasn’t some almost. this wasn’t a flirty text or a maybe-lingered hug or a “did that mean something?” moment. this was real, it happened. you were here in his arms. naked. smiling. breathing slow. and the truth was — it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.

not just the sex. that was insane, amazing. unfair, honestly. but it was more than that. it was how close you let him be. it was the way you looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy. like you’d been waiting for him just as much as he’d been waiting for you. and he was trying to memorize it all. the heat of your skin under his hand. the curve of your smile when you caught him staring. the weight of your leg over his, like you weren’t planning to go anywhere.

you turned your head toward him, cheek pressed into the pillow, eyes still lazy and soft. “you’re staring.”

he blinked. “no i’m not.”

“you literally are.”

he swallowed, trying not to smile. “okay. yeah. but respectfully.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what does that even mean?”

“means i’m just... taking it all in,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know. trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream or something.”

you didn’t laugh at that. you didn’t roll your eyes or change the subject. you just looked at him, and he looked at you, and for once, he didn’t say anything else. because for the first time in a long time, everything he wanted was already here. and he wasn’t gonna miss a single second of it.

so he shrugged, face somehow more relaxed than you’d ever seen it. “just means i’m admiring you without being weird about it.”

“you just called me your favorite thing in the world like five minutes ago.”

“and i meant it,” he said, no hesitation. “top tier. no notes.”

you smiled, then looked up at the ceiling. “this is weird.”

sunghoon blinked. “like... weird in a good way or weird like we should never do this again and i should move to another country?”

“no, dumbass.” you laughed. “like weird that this actually happened,” you said. “we’ve been circling each other forever and now we’ve crossed into, like, very naked territory.”

he turned onto his side to look at you properly, propping himself up on one elbow. “you say that like i wasn’t already fully in love with you the second you stole my last fry that one night.”

you laughed, soft and tired, and scooted closer. “you’re such a dumbass.”

“i contain multitudes,” he said, smiling.

you leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, just because it was there. just because you could now. after a few quiet seconds, he added, “i also might’ve... rehearsed stuff. in my head. like this. this whole night. not, like, in a creepy way. just. i thought about it a lot.”

“how much is ‘a lot’?”

“you don’t wanna know.”

you looked at him, eyes narrowing. “sunghoon.”

“like... entire imaginary scenarios,” he said, face slightly red now, voice muffled as he dropped back onto the pillow. “dialogue included. you said very flattering things in my head, by the way.” you started laughing, trying to muffle it into his shoulder, and he groaned. “this is the worst post-sex confession in history.”

“no, this is peak you,” you said. “romantic and slightly unhinged.”

“you make me unhinged,” he muttered, then covered his face with one hand. “i’m never speaking again.”

you reached over, peeled his hand away, and kissed his cheek. “don’t worry. you already said everything right.” he went quiet after that, just looking at you again, softer now. less flirty. more like he couldn’t believe you were real. you held the look for a second, then nudged him again. “also, i still can’t believe your pokémon username is shadyhoon420.”

“why would you bring that up now,” he whispered, betrayed.

“because you just made me see god and now i’m ready enough to bully you again.”

he groaned again, dragging the blanket up over his face. you laughed and curled into his side anyway, and even though he was pretending to be dramatic, his arm pulled you in without hesitation. and that was how you stayed. warm, tangled, slightly wrecked, and fully, unapologetically into each other.

the week after was weird. not in a bad way, just different. like, sunghoon hadn’t really planned what came after sleeping with you. his brain had mostly stopped at oh my god it’s happening, and never got around to figuring out what do i do now that it did. turns out: what he did was text you every morning like he hadn’t just seen you eight hours ago. send you playlists like he hadn’t already made three for you. randomly show up with coffee and snacks like he wasn’t trying to see you again that night anyway.

he was down bad. and he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

he came over two days later with your favorite ice cream. not because you asked, not even because you hinted. just because he passed a convenience store and thought, she likes that one with the caramel stuff, i should get that. you answered the door in pajama shorts and one sock, took the ice cream, kissed his cheek, and said “you’re so obsessed with me” like it was a joke, but he just said “yeah” and followed you inside like it was true. because it was.

he slept over again that night. and the night after that. and the one after that. and by monday, all his stuff was still technically at his place, but his phone charger, his cologne, and three pairs of socks had somehow migrated to your apartment. you made fun of him for the socks, and he said it was “for emergency purposes,” which didn’t even make sense, but you let it slide.

you, on the other hand, got more chaotic just in a very you way. you started kissing him in the middle of sentences. reaching under his hoodie in the middle of a movie. you’d say stuff like “should we go to bed?” with your hand already halfway down his back, and when he asked “to sleep?” you’d just grin and walk off like you’ll see.

you also started calling him ridiculous things in front of other people. “my man,” “baby,” “loverboy.” jay almost choked on his drink when you casually said “sunghoonie, pass me that” in the middle of a group hang. sunghoon blinked three times in a row and handed you the drink without speaking.

you were reckless with it. you sat in his lap at his apartment like it was a chair. held his hand in public. bit his earlobe once while he was trying to explain something about pokémon raids and ruined his entire train of thought. he was spiraling, but, like, happily.

he said “i like you” at least twice a day, sometimes for no reason. he told you your hair looked nice even when it didn’t. he got quieter whenever you wore his clothes but didn’t take them back. once, when you said “you’re kinda clingy now, huh,” he just said “yeah. sorry. can’t stop.”

you didn’t mind. you teased him constantly but kissed him just as much. called him ridiculous but curled into him every night. and when he said “i think i like this version of us,” you said “me too,” and kissed the corner of his mouth like you planned to stay that close for a while. maybe longer.

sunghoon had been thinking about asking you to be his proper girlfriend for, like, a week and a half. well, technically longer. emotionally since day one. but officially? yeah, one and a half weeks of pure, uninterrupted chaos in his brain. the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you. the problem was that he wanted it too much. he wanted to do it right. he wanted it to be special, but not cringe. romantic, but not too much. surprising, but not out of nowhere. he didn’t want to scare you. but he also didn’t want you to think he was casual about this. he wasn’t. he was emotionally unwell about it, actually.

so, naturally, he did the worst possible thing: he asked jay for advice.

they were at their place, sitting on the floor, jay had just beaten him at mario kart for the third time and was in his usual post-victory smug mode when sunghoon blurted out, “do you think now’s too soon to ask her to be my girlfriend?”

jay blinked. “you literally sleep over at her place more than your own.”

“i know, but, like... we haven’t said anything. there’s been no official label. it’s like... unofficially official.”

jay stared. “sunghoon. you watched her floss her teeth while you sat on the counter eating cereal and telling her she looked cute. it’s not unofficial.”

“yeah, but what if she thinks it’s too soon?”

“too soon for what? be so fucking for real, bro.”

sunghoon groaned and flopped backwards onto the floor. “i can’t just casually be like ‘hey do you wanna be my girlfriend’ while we’re ordering chicken nuggets or something.”

“why not?”

“because this is the most important relationship of my life and i want it to sound like i’m not twelve.”

jay, full of support and zero delicacy, said, “then don’t say it while you’re ordering chicken nuggets.”

sunghoon glared at the ceiling. “useless.”

still, he spent the next few days trying to figure it out. he made a mental list of possible locations. cafes were too noisy. your apartment was too... your apartment. the bar had too many witnesses. he considered writing it down. he considered saying it in a whisper and pretending it slipped out. he considered doing nothing and just dying instead.

then it happened on a wednesday. you were walking out of a little local bookstore you dragged him into, laughing at something he said, your hand linked with his like it belonged there. the woman behind the counter, older, smiley, had said, “you two are cute. your boyfriend’s so patient.”

you laughed, still flipping through the book you bought. “i know, right?”

you didn’t correct her. you did not correct her. sunghoon short-circuited for a solid five seconds. he tried to keep walking like a normal person, but his grip on your hand got a little tighter, and his brain was already in full meltdown mode.

boyfriend. she said boyfriend. and you didn’t say oh no, we’re not dating, or oh, we’re just hanging out, or he just follows me around like a sad dog. you agreed, you claimed him. it counts. it totally counts.

he waited a whole five minutes before blurting out, “so. about that boyfriend comment.”

you glanced up. “what about it?”

“you didn’t, like... correct her.”

you tilted your head. “should i have?”

he blinked. “i mean... no. no, not if you didn’t want to.”

“i didn’t,” you said simply.

sunghoon’s brain made a sound like dial-up internet for a second. he swallowed. “cool. yeah. just checking.”

you stopped walking and looked at him. “wait. is that— were you trying to ask me something just now?”

“what? no.” he paused. “yes. maybe.”

you smiled. “sunghoon.”

“okay, yes. yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair and suddenly regretting everything he’d ever said to jay. “i’ve been trying to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend for, like, ten business days. but i kept spiraling. and then you didn’t correct that lady and i had a full-body reaction.”

you laughed, leaning into him slightly. “you could’ve just asked me.”

“i know, but i like you so much that my brain stopped working and i didn’t want to mess it up.”

“you think calling me your ‘favorite thing in the world’ before asking me to date you wasn’t already kind of intense?”

“i blacked out that night. i don’t remember saying that.”

“you did.”

“okay. good. just making sure i’m consistent.”

you leaned in and kissed his cheek, still smiling. “sunghoon, obviously i want to be your girlfriend.”

he blinked. “really?”

“yes.”

he hesitated, eyes narrowing like he’d just remembered something haunting. “even after finding out that i was your sworn enemy on pokémon go for, like, four months?”

you started laughing immediately. “you mean when you admitted you were shadyhoon420, the gremlin who stole my gym every tuesday at 3 a.m.?”

“i was fighting for my honor,” he said, dead serious.

you grinned. “and now we’re dating. weird plot twist.”

he smiled, a little crooked. “great plot twist.”

you squeezed his hand again, leaned your head on his shoulder as you walked, and said, “don’t worry, boyfriend. i forgive your crimes.”

sunghoon was never recovering from being called “boyfriend” out loud. he almost tripped on the sidewalk. he grinned, slightly dazed, like someone who just won the lottery but doesn’t know where to cash it in. you grabbed his hand again and kept walking, like it was already decided. and honestly, it kind of was.

you ended up at his place that night. neither of you really said it out loud, but that was kind of the routine now. he still pretended he needed to “grab something” from his apartment just to have an excuse to follow you around his kitchen while you made popcorn. you still pretended to ask if you were staying over when you both knew your toothbrush had lived there for two weeks. he let you steal his hoodie again. you let him kiss you every time he walked past you, which was often, because he kept “forgetting things” in the living room. at some point you both crashed on the couch with your legs over his and his head resting against yours, some episode of how i met your mother playing in the background.

he was barely listening. you weren’t either. it was just there, familiar and comfortable. then, somewhere between the episode where ted steals the blue french horn and barney pretending to have a fake job at a bank, you turned to him and said, “you know what the best part of this is?”

“the popcorn?”

“okay, second best.”

“me?”

“third best.”

he laughed, nudged your knee with his. “okay, what’s the best part?”

you turned to face him fully, your chin resting on your hand now, your expression weirdly serious but also like you were holding back a laugh. “one day,” you said, “i’m gonna tell our kids this whole story. the gyms. the snacks. the pokémon betrayal. all of it.”

he blinked. “kids?”

“future,” you added quickly. “far future. relax. no one’s getting pregnant during a rerun of season three.”

“okay. just making sure.”

you grinned. “and when i tell them, i’m gonna look them in the eyes and say: and that, kids, is how i met sunghoon.”

he stared at you, then he burst out laughing, then he kissed you. and when he pulled back, smiling like he couldn’t help it, hoodie half falling off your shoulder, popcorn completely forgotten on the floor, he said, “you’re so annoying.”

you leaned into his side. “you’re obsessed with me.”

he kissed your forehead. “yeah,” he said. “i really, really am.”

and that was that. no big speech. no sweeping declarations. no fireworks or dramatic music or anything you’d write into a script. just two slightly ridiculous people, curled up on a too-small couch, limbs tangled in the kind of way that only happens when you’ve stopped pretending to need personal space, one of them wearing a hoodie that never belonged to them in the first place, both of them halfway through a rewatch of a sitcom about love and fate and timing, while very quietly, and maybe without fully realizing it, living proof of all those things was sitting right there beside them.

and that, kids… is how you met sunghoon.

author’s note: okayyyyy i wrote this as a little gift for my best friend aka my sister, and it’s actually the first time i’ve written for sunghoon since nicest guy (which feels kinda wild) andddd i’ve always loved how i met your mother!!! my fav show everrrr nd i wanted to write something that felt like that yk just full of funny warm happy momentssssss nothing too heavy, just soft and slow-burn feelings hehe i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it ♡

my masterlist // perma taglist: @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @saeris-world @jayparked @solonenova @izzyy-stuff

© all rights reserved @/heejamas — do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works without explicit permission. these are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real-life actions, thoughts, or personalities of any public figures

[vampjaeyun]

SIM JAEYUN FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted | *dark content warning: noncon, horror, yandere, etc...

word count lowers as you go down the list (not in order)

frenzy, part two [ stalker!jake, dark content* ] s,a

complementary - the physics of your body, part two [ brother's best friend!jake ] s,f,a

anti-hero [ golden boy!jake x golden girl!reader, friends with benefits au ] s,f,a

kiwi and layla [ outgoing!jake x shy!reader, highschool au ] f,a

volume 3 ☆ jake sim - the first love trope [ popular boy!jake x shy!reader ] s,f

no doubt [ idol!jake, friends to lovers au ] f,a

sim jaeyun — TOO FAST TOO BAD [ street racer!jake x cop!reader ] suggestive, f,a

under the table [ academic rivals to fwb to lovers au ] s,f,a

off limits: sim jaeyun, series masterlist [ brother's bestfriend!jake ] s,f,a

do you ever shut up? [ yapper!jake x listener!reader ] f

bruises [ engineering major!jake x nursing student fem!reader ] s,a

love, lies, and sim jake [ campus heartbreaker!jake x quiet fem!reader ] f,a

call me when you hate me less [ football player!jake x tutor!reader enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

to, future you [ secret admirer!jake x crush!reader ] s,f

rule number 1: don't fall in love [ ex's bestfriend!jake, fake dating au ] s,f,a

cunnilinguist [ bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ] s,f

breathe me in [ snake!jake x fem!reader, dark content* ] s

to believe [ ex!jake, reader's brother's wedding au ] s,f,a

i'll save you again [ spider-man!jake x reporter!reader, enemies to lovers ] f,a

hypersexual [ masturbation addict!jake ] s

forbidden attraction| sim jaeyun [ hufflepuff!jake ] s,f

hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait) [ youtuber/super down bad bf!jake x youtuber!reader ] suggestive, f

give me tough love [ omegaverse, alpha x alpha, one-sided enemies to lovers ] s

sticky ft.jay [ boxer!jake x fem!reader x boxer!jay, boys next door au ] s

power play, part two [ sub boss!jake x coworker dom!reader ] s

sweet little money maker [ stripper!jake x rich!reader ] s

bullshit [ idol!jake x blogger!reader ] s

golden boy! [ golden boy hard dom!jake x masturbation addict f!reader ] s,f

see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader [ nerd!jake x fem!reader, dark content* ] s

your little brother, my little secret [ best friend's little brother!jake ] s,a

Two Faced, One Heart: Who is Sim Jake? [ loser!jake, cocky flirt!jake alone with f!reader ] s

sims anatomy [ neurosurgeon!jake x cardio surgeon!reader ] s

erotic empathy [ virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, dating app au (written fic) ] s

movie star [ money-struggling!jake x camgirl!reader ] s,f

but daddy i love him [ badboy!jake x innocent!reader ] s,f,a

attic angel, part two [ obsessive stalker!jake, dark content* ] s

dare me to [ best friends younger brother!jake ] s

act now, think later [ strangers to friends to lovers, college au ] f

manchild [ cowboy!jake, strangers to lovers ] s

on the roof [ stranger!jake x fem!reader ] s,f

you hate me universe? [ interrupted before kissing au ] s,f,a

should've [ seemingly*one-sided love au, mutual hating & pining ] s

brisbane [ boxer-dad!jake x mom!reader ] s,f

69 [ roommate!jake, strangers to lovers ] s

I knew you were trouble, part two [ rich boy!jake, fake dating au ] s,f,a

undone [ boyfriend!jake, toxic male friendship dynamics ] s

under the cover [ librarian!jake x fem!reader ] s,f

little lamb [ killer!jake x fem!reader, horror au, dark content* ] s,f

I'm yours [ ex-boyfriend!jake, college au ] s,f

no face! [ camboy & bestfriend!jake ] s

maneater [ virgin!jake x jay's bestfriend!reader ] s

professional-ish! [boss!jake, workplace romance ] suggestive, f

touché [ academic rival!jake, one-sided fake dating? ] s,f

attention [ sick!jake x fem!reader ] s

no promises [ himbo!jake x nerd!reader ] s

no control [ first time au ] s

the devil wears prada [ idol!jake ] s

best friend's can fuck [ bestfriend!jake x sexually fustrated fem!reader ] s

love on you [ idol!jake x artist!reader ] s

bed chem [ nerdy!jake x fem!reader, established relationship ] s

big d*ck for dummies [ bigdick!jake, first time, established relationship ] s

hold your breath [ detective!jake, 1960s au ] s

teacher's pet [ teacher!jake x student!reader ] s

medicine [ sick!jake, established relationship au ] s

book lover [ needy bf!jake x reader!reader ] s

ride [ sub!jake, car sex ] s

wet the bed [ sub!jake x sub!reader ] s

use me [ boyfriend!jake ] s

damn it nerd are you listening? [ nerd!jake x hot!reader, established relationship ] s,f

rebirth [ boyfriend!jake, reconciliation, second chance au ] s,f,a

REM [ bestfriend!jake, wet dream au? ] s

all fours [ boyfriend!jake ] s

nonstop [ loser nerd!jake, virgin!jake ] s

nonsense, part two [ bestfriend 7 roommate!jake ] s

say yes [ sub!jake, established relationship ] s,f

irresistible [ boyfriend!jake, getting ready for bed au ] s

stuffed [ cockwarming ] s

vocal jake [ boyfriend!jake ] s

[vampjaeyun]

@vampjaeyun2 <- where i reblog fics ive read and enjoyed ;)

[vampjaeyun]

hii! so sorry this is random but i saw that u had reblogged fics in your recs if the account was deactivated and ive been looking for this specific duology (?) but i believe the writer deactivated :( so i wanted to check if u had it! im pretty sure it was called "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" and i thinkk it was jungwon and jake. if u dont have it, do you think you could still post this ask so other people can check, please? thank you so much 🫶

ive been looking for it and i dont think ive reblogged it :( im pretty sure i know what youre talking ab too and 90% sure i read it but maybe someone reblogged it so if someone has it plz comment!!!

[vampjaeyun]

good night

[vampjaeyun]

i just realized there’s so many sub!jake recs near the bottom of list srry a girl believes in the jake!bottom agenda 😔