#I APPLAUD YOU in fact | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heegyukeluv · 6 months ago

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complementary - the physics of your body [part 1] (sjy)

pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: The thermodynamics of your bodies together, the sound wave of your moans, the gravity that pulled you towards each other. You were a perfect combination, the right equilibrium, complementary.

my's note: i had to break this work into two parts due to the size of it, i'm so sorry. i'll post the part 2 in a few days! my longest (and dirtiest) work lol. i used some physics concepts but funny thing hah i know nothing about physics SO PLEASE don't think too much into it... also don't know if i'd commit this much with a fic if wasn't for ari freaking out whenever I teased to add something new so please everyone say thank you ari! <3 on a side note: this is especially for her. i love you, ari 💞

warnings: mention of trauma from parents, jay is y/n’s older brother, jake is jay's best friend and three years older than the reader, physics stuff lol, reader blushing/turning red!, drama/arguments, fluff, angst a little (with happy ending!!), pet names (babe, doll, good girl...) SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (m.), choking, jk cum inside, gag, overstimulation (m.). lmk if i missed something!

wc: 27k.

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers

“I know that delaying it seemed the right thing to do at the time, but I don’t think you can run away from physics anymore, kiddo.”

As your eyes rolled, annoyed with the nickname, you smacked the pizza dough into the cold marble, kneading it to make it perfectly soft. The inner core of your stomach tightened with the reminder, bringing a bitter taste on the back of your throat that made you gulp.

“I’m literally in my second year in college and you’re still calling me that.”

Your muttered words elicited an immediate laugh from Jay, your big brother, who had his body resting on the door frame while watching you across the kitchen, panicking over the fact that you would finally have to deal with your biggest fear in school, by choosing to randomly make pizza at 4pm on a thursday.

‘It helps me to destress,’ you explained once. ‘To smack something that’s not someone’s face.’

“You’d always be my kiddo,” he answered back fondly, yet with a hint of mocking, as he moved to sit at the kitchen peninsula chair.

Jay never really raised a question over your decisions and behaviors, applauding and supporting you every time while shooting loving eyes towards you whenever you were around doing your silly little things; just like now, as he followed your movements, a bit concerned with your deep frown and how quickly your hands worked on the dough, but nearby just in case you needed some help.

Over the years, the two of you shared a strong, healthy bond, especially within the walls of the house you grew up in.

Having wealthy parents came with its perks and its drawbacks, but for you, the drawbacks often outweighed the rest. Pursuing a dream that didn’t align with your dad’s expectations felt almost like a betrayal of your family’s values, as if you were intentionally choosing to disappoint them by turning away from the prospect of becoming a doctor, lawyer, or even a future CEO of the family company.

Some would say you were crazy for challenging yourself into a rougher path, giving away the possibilities of a stable life to pursue your real dreams. However, it didn’t sound right for you to live a life without your wills being the main worry of it, forcing yourself to fit a model instead of creating your own.

Amidst the chaos you grew up in, Jay was always there to hold you close and feel proud with your achievements, protecting and looking after you.

He would drive you to your classes every morning when he started high school and you were still finishing middle school, buy you expensive gifts, and take you to fancy restaurants for your birthday. He always had his bedroom’s door unlocked for you to come when you felt like crying in the middle of the night because of something shitty your parents screamed at you. He never minded skipping work or classes if it meant staying home to take care of you when you were sick. And he had no issue scaring away any guy who, in his eyes, never seemed to be worthy enough of you.

You couldn’t help but laugh whenever his protective tactics worked, knowing that, deep down, your brother was just a big softie, never ever daring to kill an insect and crying over romantic movies.

Moving in with him always sounded right, it was part of your big plans; finish school, get into college and share an apartment with your brother, who would be just wrapping up his own studies.

Jay offered you the reliability you needed.

He was three years older than you, now working as a CEO in one of your family’s company subsidiaries after finishing administration school, and tried his best to give you everything you wanted and needed to live a good, comfortable life at least until you achieved your goal and stability by yourself, not wanting for your to do side jobs and focus only on studying.

Jay never cared much about doing it for him, choosing to pamper you to the brim without asking for anything back, even though you unconsciously paid with your happiness.

Due to your tough relationship with your parents, you never really took it for granted, working hard to keep yourself steady enough to live alone if you need to – Jay, on the other hand, would move mountains for that never to happen.

Jay fought for his place in the world with a little less struggle than you, and he blamed himself for it to some extent.

Your parents beamed with joy when he announced he would be studying business administration; you still remember that night of celebration, with your father practically glowing with happiness – the kind of happiness you knew you would never be able to give him, since you wanted to follow the artistic path of the spectrum.

Eventually, with your decision’s outcome, Jay made it his mission to take care of both of you, because he understood that life had been unfair to you. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t want to follow the pattern they had set out for you based only on their expectations. You didn’t deserve to hear the hurtful words your parents threw at you, expressing their disappointment and sadness over who you had become.

Jay, however, admired the incredible woman you had turned into, in awe of your strength to keep fighting for your dreams, and he worked tirelessly to ensure you were safe, sound, and happy.

Now, you were in your second year in college, studying fine arts with Jay’s unwavering financial support; he offered you a comfortable place to live, covered your tuition and fees, food, clothes, and even your materials and books without bothering to ask for anything back in return.

The only thing he wanted was for you to concentrate on your studies and be happy.

And focus you did, although you had postponed as much as you could to finish a part of the core curriculum.

After everything you had been through, you could honestly say that physics was your biggest – and most frustrating – enemy.

You hated physics with passion, never understanding why the fuck you had to study it.

The speed of the light? Why bother? You would never use it to measure anything in your everyday life anyway. And gravity? Yeah, you knew it kept you grounded on Earth, but it sure didn’t help you keep your steps steady. You were constantly tripping over your own feet.

It just never made sense to you. It only made you want to scream in frustration, tearing at your hair with every weird equation and choice of words to explain annoying, bullshit stuff.

“I just hate physics,” you groaned, breath heavy as your anger increased; a few strands of hair fell messily across your face, making the whole situation worse. “I hate it,” you muttered, punching the dough harder. Jay laughed. “Hate it, hate it, hate it!” You repeated, each word punctuated by another angry smack against the poor pizza dough.

Jay, trying to hide his grin, shook his head. "I don’t think the pizza dough has anything to do with your physics situation," he teased.

As much as he loved you, he was your brother and would always find a way to taunt your nerves before really offering a helping hand.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you fluttered your eyes close and threw your head back. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of irritation and helplessness washing over you working as a perfect mix to send you to the edge of losing control, and you wondered why you got so triggered over such a trivial thing.

Then, it clicked. Of course, trauma from your parents.

You had always pushed yourself over the limit to be better, to get the highest grades and do your absolute best in school, only to feel frustrated when you couldn’t achieve perfection.

In your parents’ eyes, you would never be good enough no matter how many perfect scores you aced on exams and assignments.

In college, despite moving out of their house and ending contact almost entirely, you still held yourself to the same impossible standards, sometimes even worse.

Confronting a subject where you knew you couldn’t be the best felt like a trigger, a reminder of everything you had been told over the years.

Useless. Incapable. Insufficient.

You automatically remembered last night, when you sat at your desk, eyes wandering over the physics textbooks sprawled open on the surface, words coming in a blur. You couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it was due to your incapacity to understand them or to your tears that flowed easily after some minutes sitting in trance.

The weight was almost suffocating and you called it a day when your hands started to tremble and your body ached for rest, feeling extra tired just by… staring.

You rested your hips on the cold marble, blinking your eyelids open to glance at your brother. He had now a softened expression, calm and fond, hands comfortably placed on the countertop.

“I think I’m just oversensitive,” you said, voice barely above a whisper as your hands now played with the dough absentmindedly, eyes slowly lowering to watch how your fingers disappeared into the soft white mixture. “Y’know, our parents they…” You trailed off, not really wanting to verbalize your thoughts.

“Yeah,” Jay nodded, sighing. The knot in his heart tightened seeing you so pouty, understanding from how deep and particular your frustration came. “Listen, I know you hate it, but you have to at least do the minimum to pass. You don’t have to ace it all.” Jay spoke while standing up to wrap around the counter and stand by your side, his body resting on the counter as well.

You leaned into the touch when he caressed your hair, your whole body shifting to a less tense figure.

Jay tilted his head forward enough to search for your sad, puppy eyes. Suddenly, an insight crossed his mind and his lips curved into a smile.

“I have a friend,” he said and you finally glanced at him. The unexpected mention of his friend and how he sounded like having a great idea sparking your curiosity. “I think he’d love to help you.”

“So, I invited the guys over,” Jay said while placing some beers on the minifridge near the entrance of your shared living room. You were standing up awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyes following Jay’s excited figure as he organized the house to welcome his friends. “And while me, Heeseung and Sunghoon do something fun, you and Jake can do the boring stuff.”

Jay had a plan, a solid one. And in any other circumstance you wouldn’t be so nervous about it.

It was just another regular Friday. It was also routine for you to go out with your friends to some bar, club, or even have a girls' night at someone's house, while Jay would head to the house his friends shared.

Jay always used the excuse that he would rather keep the house free for you or not bother you, especially on those nights when you would choose to stay home to relax or study, though part of you suspected that sometimes he was actually heading to a girl's house and just didn’t want to tell you.

Either way, today felt different.

It all started with him inviting the guys over to his place instead of the other way around, followed by a surprisingly sweet request for you to stay in and not go anywhere.

Soon after, he revealed his plan: he, Sunghoon, and Heeseung would play video games in the living room while you and Jake studied physics in some other corner of the house. He promised they would keep the noise down so as not to disturb you.

As said before, in any other situation you wouldn’t be reacting the way you were; hands sweating, heart pumping loudly in your eardrums, head spinning. But in other situations there was no Jake in the equation.

Sim fucking Jaeyun, also known as Jake, was one of Jay’s closest friends, acting as much as siblings as you two.

They met in school and hadn't left each other’s side ever since, sharing hundreds of stories together, with a bunch of adventures and countless funny moments. You closely watched them grow up and accomplish things side by side, constantly attending Jake's birthday parties and other of his family’s events, even participating vividly on some of the “boy’s night” in your house where you crushed them in the video games they choose to play, always eliciting surprised sounds from Jake followed by compliments excitedly said, that, at some point, started to make you feel things.

When Jay moved out to start college, you were left alone at the house that aimed to destroy your dreams and, indirectly, you, having to deal with a lot on your own, constantly hearing the harsh words from your parents and having to lower your head without the courage to fight back, because Jay wasn’t there to defend you anymore.

Jay’s routine became heavy, as he landed an internship early during his second year that consumed most of his time, barely having minutes to talk to you over the phone, moments where you opted to listen to his news and college life instead of filling him with your teenager suffering bullshit.

On the other hand, Jake, who was also in college, had way more free time. Whenever he went back to visit his own parents, he would set a time to take you out on weekends, helping you clear your head by treating you with some ice cream and any other snacks you wanted while listening to your concerns.

You grew really close to Jake during your high school years, noticing the genuine attention he gave you. Jake would always be close to you as a protective older brother, someone who looked out for you and took good care of you, a very trustworthy and sincere friend.

And yet, you always, always felt guilty for letting your feelings for him go beyond “just friends.”

Jake was the same age as Jay – three years older than you, three years more experienced, three years more everything. He was, now, a man. A very attractive, hot, appealing man.

You had the chance to watch Jake grow up right before your eyes, transforming from a good-looking teenager into a charming young man. He had an irresistible smile, warm brown eyes that radiated kindness and sweetness, and a genuine aura that permeated his personality – always wanting to help others in the most caring way possible.

He was friendly, easygoing, sociable, and intelligent.

And when you saw him blossom, it was impossible not to feel completely captivated.

You vividly remember the time your brother posted a photo with his friends at the beach, and there was Jake, shirtless, showing off his toned, slightly sun-kissed body to the world. At that time you were already in your first year of college, while he was finishing up his own studies deep into the engineer life he chose to live.

Your relationship had cooled off a bit, as his academic demands increased and his visits became less frequent, until you eventually moved in with your brother. You assumed you would see Jake more often, but, for reasons unknown, Jay rarely invited his friends over to visit and Jake never really reached out for you.

It became awkward.

You attended parties with your brother and met Sunghoon and Heeseung, Jay’s college friends, that created a unique bond despite having known each other for less time. The four of them became as close as family, and Jay made sure his friends knew you in order to keep you safe when he wasn’t around, constantly allowing them to pick you up on your way back home due to some unexpected schedule that kept him from doing it himself, for instance.

Jake, however, became distant. He would always have excuses not to do any of that and whenever you saw him at parties, he would at most give you a forced smile and a slight, polite nod, quickly diverting his path and avoiding you for the rest of the night.

It was painful in a way, especially since now that you were grown you realized your chances with him might actually be within reach.

As a teenager, your crush was as subtle as possible, aware that neither Jake nor Jay would ever approve of any kind of relationship between the two of you, so you never truly considered anything happening.

But now you had become a woman. And a relatively attractive one, if you did say so yourself. So, just as physics had never made sense to you, Jake’s reaction to your presence had become just as baffling, until eventually you buried your feelings completely and moved on.

At least, that’s what you thought – until Jay came up with this wild idea of having Jake as your physics tutor.

You gulped down your nervousness for the probably ninetieth time, now intensified by the bell ringing. Jay was in the bathroom and shouted for you to open the front door, saying it was the guys that had arrived.

As you made your way towards the entrance, your legs felt wobbly and your heart was racing fast as you clutched the door’s knob. You took a deep breath, silently counting to ten before finally turning the handle.

“Y/N!” Heeseung was the first to greet you with his usual bright smile, wrapping you immediately with his long arms in a tight hug, not minding that he carried some bags with his hands or that they clashed against your back. His blonde hair was perfectly parted, giving a very enticing aura to his already charming presence.

You smiled in response, warmed by his sweet embrace. By his side stood Sunghoon, his dark hair and thick brows framing his pale face perfectly. His cheeks rounded up as he gave you a shy, endearing smile before pulling you into his own hug.

“Missed you,” he muttered softly against your hair and you chuckled, squeezing him just a bit tighter before stepping back.

“You guys never come to see me, so I don’t know who’s really missing who here,” you shot back with a teasing grin, pretending to pout as you moved away from Sunghoon, almost forgetting about the third presence standing behind them in the hallway.

After hearing their laughs and letting them in, your eyes flickered to the man awkwardly waiting for the interaction between the three of you to settle. Your breath hitched when your gaze met his, and you had to dig self control from the depths of your mind not to overreact.

Jake was as handsome as ever.

He was casually dressed in a leather jacket over a white shirt and distressed jeans that seemed to fit him almost too perfectly. Effortlessly good, rough and soft just like your heart enjoyed, which was beating loudly in your ribcage, enough for you to fear to be heard even with the noises from the other two who had just entered your house and were greeting Jay.

“Hey,” Jake managed to say without giving you a proper look, eyes avoiding your figure at all costs.

“Hey,” you replied with a forced small smile, stepping back to give him space to pass through, even though there was more than enough. You felt like it would be like that the whole night: awkward and distant. And it only increased your anxiety.

As you closed the door, feet glued on the ground, you wondered if it would be harder to understand anything physics related or to deal with Jake’s presence. The only coherent answer you found was that either would be a pain in the ass, and you would be the one getting fucked at the end. Emotionally and academically.

Watching them settling into your apartment, comfortably lounging on your couch while laughing and drinking the beer Jay served, you couldn’t help but think when exactly the whole tutoring thing would start. You waited for someone to bring it up, because although it seemed like a good idea, your inner self had doubts about your own reaction when being in a place alone with Jake and had no plans to pursue or engage it.

The couch’s armrest had never felt so awkwardly uncomfortable as you sat there, listening to the endless, nonchalant chatter around you. One of your arms rested on the back of the couch, propping up your head as your eyes shifted between Jake and the others. Whenever he caught you staring, you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to act like you weren’t a bundle of nerves just being in the same room with him.

Heeseung was the one near you, casually using your legs as a makeshift support to his own arm, and Jay sat beside him, completely indifferent to Heeseung's touchy nature – it became routine, to some extent.

Sunghoon and Jake took place on the smaller couch opposite to you, Jake smiling along to the conversation while adding his own points to the whatever story they were telling and Sunghoon laughter filling the room.

You always found it amusing how Sunghoon seemed to be the reserved one, but when he was with his friends he was definitely the loudest.

Heeseung and you grew closer than you expected, often being the one giving you rides home, even raising some suspicions among your friends about being your boyfriend. As nice, gentle and charming he was, you never saw yourself having feelings for or even dating him.

Not when Jake was on the equation.

What?

“But hey, Jake,” Heeseung suddenly cut the topic and gave a quick squeeze on your thigh. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping Y/N with her studies?”

A cold chill immediately filled your belly and you froze in place, the smile lingering on your lips by listening to their funny chatter fading slowly as you lifted your gaze to Jake. Heeseung was innocently asking, but it caused your stomach to flip a whole 360, and the room was now dividing looks between you two.

You watched as Jake’s expression faltered for just a moment, then quickly returned to his usual easy going demeanor. Before he said anything in response, Jay took the front of it.

“Oh, that’s right,” Jay said, leaning back into the couch with a teasing grin. “I asked you to help my sister, not come here to drink my beer and lounge on my expensive couch.”

You wanted to sink into the floor, or at least disappear. Jake shifted uncomfortably, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips though you could clearly tell he was faking it. Jay’s obliviousness only made it worse, as if he couldn’t even sense the awkwardness between you and Jake.

There was no blame on him, though, especially because no one expected any type of tension between any of you.

You shot a quick glance at Jake again, who was avoiding your gaze once more, and all of a sudden the room felt too small, too crowded, as if the space around you was closing in, sinking you deep into a pool of anxiety.

“You don’t have to bother, really,” your voice filled the room, words waving weirdly in the air. You let out a mild chuckle, pushing yourself from your seating to stand up. “I’ll go to my room, so you guys can hang–”

“Hey, no way,” Jay interrupted your attempt of running away, frowning and lifting his beer bottle to point it at you, yet blind to the real atmosphere unfolding. “Don’t try to escape from physics, kiddo.”

Heeseung’s small snort followed Jay's words, giving you teasing glinted eyes before remarking, his lips against his beer bottle. “Yeah, Y/N. You’ve been avoiding it for God’s know how long.”

Somehow Heeseung’s choice of words seemed to light up a strange feeling in your chest, as if he was reading beyond reality, slightly aware of the you and Jake situation – to begin with, there was no you and Jake situation. No way he would say that about your relationship with physics alone. Anyway, your cheeks warmed instantly, your eyes wavering to any other place rather than the rest of the people sharing that abruptly small space with you.

“I think the kitchen is far enough for you both,” Sunghoon quickly added with a relaxed nod, sipping on his beer. “We promise not to be loud, yeah?” He smirked, completely aware he was the loudest in the house so far.

You chuckled, switching your weight on your foot. “I can’t believe it when you’re the one saying it,” you teased back, eliciting an immediate laugh from Sunghoon. “But yeah, the kitchen seems to be an okay place. Besides, there’s food and I can totally escape from physics or whatever with food,” you shot Jay a playful grin, quirking an eyebrow, challenging.

“Don’t you dare.” Jay said firmly, but not really. You knew he was nothing but a worried brother about your mental health and how your academic performance affected it, wishing to give you only the best.

Unfortunately, the best in his vision wasn’t necessarily the best you needed at that moment.

Jake finally stood up, fixing his clothes as he did so, running his fingers through his thick hair and glancing at you; your eyes tracked his every movement, the sinking feeling in your stomach tightening with the view. He was so damn hot.

“The kitchen it is, then.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump of nervousness in your throat that came back in a strike, after reminding you would be spending quite a long time alone with Jake, having nowhere to run nor anything to calm down your fluttering heart.

Your legs betrayed you, feeling weak under the pressure of the situation. Still, you forced yourself to move, muttering a quiet “I’ll go grab my books,” before rushing off towards your room.

As you came back, hands shaking and mouth dry, you headed straight to the kitchen wishing to have some more time alone to organize your thoughts, gather yourself and regain your senses before calling Jake. Unexpectedly, he was already there, sitting stiffly on the chair he chose while his slender fingers rapidly danced on his phone screen, unaware of your presence.

Your entire body froze, your plan going down the drain right away. You bit your lower lip, a soft, involuntary action that seemed to be the only thing holding you together in that moment. You had to keep moving forward. You had to. But you couldn’t. Not when Jake was just… there.

A glimpse of a smirk curved the corner of his oh, so plush, distracting lips, glistening under the kitchen’s light while his attention was all on his phone, clearly chatting with someone. Girlfriend? The thought crossed your mind briefly; a man like Jake was probably taken already, and, to be honest, a small part of you almost hoped for it to be true, so you could stop torturing yourself over your silly feelings for him and really move on.

But Jake didn’t ease your side, cheeky tongue every so often playing with the corner of his mouth, teeth pressing his plump bottom lip, and from where you stood you could see his pretty eyelashes fluttering with each blink, oblivious to the effect he was causing on you, oblivious to the storm happening inside your chest.

With a loud and sudden laugh his body jolted, phone slipping from his hands and clattering onto the table as he threw his head back, one of his hands messily running through his silk brown strands out of habit.

Only then he noticed you, standing up in the kitchen’s door, hugging your books, clearly staring.

“Holy fuck, Y/N!” He blurted out, a hand flying to his chest as if to steady himself, his puppy eyes widened to you, shoulders clearly tensed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I–I’m sorry,” you stuttered, stepping further into the room and trying to sound casual, as if you weren’t watching him from the past seconds with your heart almost ripping your ribcage open. “Didn’t mean to.”

Jake took a second to regain his composure and his eyes involuntarily lingered on your figure longer than he wanted to, nearly shamelessly tracing the lines of your body; the soft curve of your bare shoulders, how your spaghetti strap top appealed to evidentiate your collarbone and tightened just enough on your chest. Then he paid attention to your pretty fingers clutching the edges of your notebook and books, lowering to the tiny bit of exposed skin of your belly, then your beautiful hips and covered legs.

You had chosen a comfortable outfit, not giving a thought about appearance at all – after all, not only the boys had seen you way worse, but the night’s plans gravitated towards studying and studying only.

Even so, Jake had to hold himself back. There was something about the way your clothes hugged your form that had him silently disorientated, heart faltering some beats and breath hardly passing through his airways, his own body heating just by visualizing you.

He cleared his throat, glancing down to fidget with his phone as a way to ground himself, breaking the tension settled thickly between you two. The small sound brought you out of the daze you got yourself into without realizing it.

“So…” Jake finally said, his voice a bit unsteady and lower than you expected. “Where do you want to start?”

His sweet eyes lifted to meet yours again, and his usual easy smile had a hint of something more cautious, more careful, as he focused on your adorable wide-eyed expression. He noticed your cheeks with a faint blush and couldn’t hold back a little grin when you diverted your eyes shyly.

You slid into the seat across him, sprawling your materials over the table with a quiet sigh, your eyes anxiously avoiding Jake’s.

“I have no idea.” You admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle, struggling to soothe your nerves. “The basics?” You added unsurely and Jake was fast to nod tenderly.

Though he was dealing with a lot in his mind, he would always have a soft spot for you.

“Basics, yeah. Sounds great.” He agreed with a small smile, carefully reaching out your notebook and opening to scan your notes.

A wave of embarrassment flushed over you as you remembered the stupid things you wrote during your classes, fighting your demons trying to understand at least the bare minimum, scribbles that hardly made sense, and that now probably got you looking extra dumb and childish under Jake’s judgment.

You heard him humming before grabbing one of your books, his fingers brushing yours quietly and quickly as he did so. You ignored the burst of electricity induced by that simple touch, watching how his slender fingers casually flipped the pages until he reached the one he was searching for.

“You know, I can explain this easily to you,” Jake began to talk, his voice dropping to an unexpected gentle teacher-like tone as he leaned over the table a little, enough to get closer to you, enough to have your stomach twisting and flipping to every direction possible with the warmth his body radiated. “Just don’t mind me if I get too technical sometimes.”

“No problem,” you managed to say, grateful your voice was steady enough for you not to sound stupid or squealed, your eyes glued to your handwriting, tracing the lines of each word as a way of desperately dodging the possibility of meeting Jake’s gaze.

Even the faintest peek of his furrowed brow when he was focused was enough to make you melt, and he had no idea of how attractive he looked when he was all serious and devoted explaining his nerd things.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you stop following me, alright?” He added, a smile tugging at his lips that you only saw by the corner of your eyes.

You nodded quickly, swallowing hard; the scent of his cologne was flooding your senses, drawing you in closer, making it harder to think straight.

“Okay,” you replied, quiet and breathlessly.

For the following few minutes Jake explained the concepts slowly, his voice calm and steady as he walked you through the basics, but your head kept drifting your attention away, deeply engaged with the way his gorgeous fingers traced the lines of your textbook. The following thoughts were too dirty to even continue with.

Jake had that familiar Australian accent that naturally made you weak, and now, combined with the way he had softened his tone, speaking so close to your face, it was enough to drive you completely insane. You couldn’t focus on anything but how his warm breath traveled gently, brushing against the sensitive skin of your cheeks, increasing your fluster.

Your heart raced. It raced far too quickly.

The realization of how your body was reacting brought back memories of the times Jake had caused similar sensations in the past, back when he treated you with that older-brother tenderness and you would instantly overreact, shivering at his subtle touches, stuttering whenever his gaze landed on you with his usual captivating smile.

It was undeniable that something had shifted at some point; once there was the slight possibility of getting something more from him, no more holding “Jay's little sister's” place. You couldn’t quite grasp what happened or understand what had triggered such a sudden change, especially since you couldn’t recall having done anything wrong.

Your mind kept drifting away from the materials in front of you. Physics was never your thing, and in that very moment no amount of effort could make it so.

Not when Jake was all over you; in your head, by your side, overwhelming your senses.

Every so often his gaze flicked back to you, expecting to see your attentive, engaged expression, and consequently catching the way you chewed on your lower lip or absentmindedly twirled a pen between your fingers with furrowed brows.

You had tied your hair in a bun as some strands began to fall over your face, working as a distraction – you were already surrounded with an overwhelming distraction, there was no need for more. That simple act had Jake stuttering, fumbling amidst his words and losing track of his thoughts as the hairstyle gave him the privilege to see your bare, beautiful and kissable neck.

His hands tingled, urging to touch you there. Would you like to be choked?

Ok, that definitely wasn’t physics.

Jake fell silent, swallowing hard as you leaned forward to see the drawing he was just explaining, thinking the delay was intentional. When no words came from his mouth and the air suddenly grew thicker, your eyes followed the trail from his fingers to his veiny hands, from his covered torso to his face, hovering longer on how clenched his sharp jaw was and how his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.

You shot a questioning look, blinking innocently with brows raised just slightly.

Jake wavered under your curious, yet somehow intense gaze, averting it immediately in order to regain his conscious back. Your lips had pursed into a small pout that did nothing to help his way out of his messy head.

Everything he could think about was how bad he wanted to kiss you.

“Something’s wrong?” Your velvety voice enveloped the room, a naive question with a supposedly simple answer that got caught in Jake’s throat.

Jake never saw you as a potential partner or lover, let alone as an object of his desire.

You were Jay’s little sister that he cared for as if his own. He saw you grow up, he watched you achieving your goals and got inspired by your strength to overcome the toxic place you had to call a house. Jake cherished your relationship with Jay, grateful for both of you having each other, and that was pretty much you to him.

Even in those times when he treated you to ice cream and snacks during his college breaks, when he visited his parents back home, he kept you in a certain specific spot in his life – something close to family.

He loved to tease you, exactly like a mischievous older brother, laughing when you tripped, when your mouth was stained with chocolate, or when you fumbled through words while talking about your school crush.

Jake had always seen you as a younger sister he needed to look out for.

Until you grew up.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the switch happened, when he stopped seeing you as a little girl he had to tease and began noticing you as a ridiculously attractive woman, but seeing you in person after two years definitely played a role in that.

Jake had been your closest company through your first two years of high school, filling the role of an older brother, a place Jay couldn’t quite manage to fill because of his own study and work demands, unwillingly.

During your last year of high school you stopped seeing Jake, as he had gotten caught up in the same cycle as your brother: studying and working. And you completely understood, knowing that soon enough you would be in a similar place.

Then you graduated and started your own college journey, and Jake, deep into his own responsibilities, went another year without seeing you.

It was at the beginning of your sophomore year in college that you two crossed paths again – at a party when Jay finally agreed to take you with him, after much persistence on your part.

Jake froze.

Jake quite literally forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink, how to properly work as a human the moment his eyes landed on you, stunning in a short, wine-colored dress, casually holding a drink in your hand.

Jake didn’t remember your body looking anything like that, used to seeing you in casual, loose clothing rather than that fitted, short dress that framed your thighs so perfectly, drawing his hungry gaze to stare as a starved man, with a subtle neckline that hinted at the curve of your chest.

Hot.

That was all he could think. Until he realized it was you.

He remembered it vividly: watching you from behind as you danced, immediately struck by how attractive that random woman seemed to be. But as his gaze traveled upward and found your face, he froze, utterly overwhelmed with shock and panic. Especially when you noticed him looking, shooting a cute, surprised smile and a little wave, almost as if you were going to come over.

To say he ran away from there was close to an euphemism, rushing over the bathroom within a lame excuse thrown at his friends before heading back home after using the bar’s back door as his way out.

The walk home was painful. Jake’s head was filled with nasty thoughts that made him completely unable to disable it from happening, swirling around in a dirty carousel.

Jake felt like a naughty, filthy pervert. You were Jay’s little sister. The one he played innocently with, hung out countless times without the slightest thought of having you as a true woman; and if the thought ever crossed his mind, he would feel disgusted, because it made no sense and was wrong.

So, the only way to overcome your effect on him was to ignore you at every possible opportunity, not expecting you to care that much about it.

It was a stupid choice, an asshole one even. You used to be friends and now he would rather choose to be eaten by a bear than see you up close and act normal.

Jay’s sudden plan of asking for his help was the start of his downfall for you, and now he was dealing with the consequences of his previous decisions.

“Jakey?”

The nickname. The fucking nickname you last called him years ago, now sounding even mellow and sweeter, yet as sultry as ever. Jake wondered how would it be to have you underneath him, moaning his name as if your life depended on it with his dick buried deep into your cunt.

“Y–Yeah?”

Jake immediately damned himself for the stutter, afraid of being too obvious with his nervous reaction. He made the mistake of looking at you, trying to act as normal as possible, and somehow his brain managed to picture your oh, so cute eyes fluttering close as he pleasured you.

His face heated instantly, as if fire was being spread all over his skin. His body was hot as hell, the loosen pants now not so comfortable as before, tightening on his crotch area.

“What happened?”

You nonchalantly touched his covered forearm as you asked, concern written all over your face as you struggled to understand what was happening. Jake's abrupt reaction of moving away from your soft hands startled you a little, your head cocking to the side as you frowned, reading Jake’s widened and panicked eyes.

Unaware of the real deal, oblivious to the torrent of emotions and feelings dancing inside Jake’s head and chest, you started to feel really annoyed.

Was Jake slipping back into that strange, sudden habit of ignoring you, like he had been since you had started crossing paths again?

There was no plausible explanation for his reaction. The two of you used to go out together all the time, comfortable touches being a natural part of your relationship – especially since Jake was almost ridiculously clingy with his close friends.

When the whole ‘avoiding you’ situation first started you were very confused and questioned what you did wrong. Then you grew mad and eventually got over it since you had no contact at all with Jake throughout the following months, nearly forgetting his existence.

But now you had to face it all again, confronting the feelings you once went through; a familiar bitter blend of anger and hurt. It stung like reopening a wound you thought it healed. Exposed, sensitive, vulnerable, bringing back memories you hoped to erase.

“Nothing happen–”

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

Your interruption was as abrupt as Jake’s reaction to your close presence earlier. He noticed the spark of rage flashing your two orbs suddenly, causing him to blink, caught off guard, eyes widening even bigger if it was possible, trying to understand what you just had hit him with.

“Huh?”

You let out a frustrated huff before repeating yourself even more mad, your hands traveling to your hair fix some random strands as an anxious fidgeting habit to ground you.

“You started to ignore and avoid me. Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off?”

Jake was taken aback with your outburst of questions, lips parted, words caught somewhere down his throat. There was something close to a knot pressing the back of his tongue that made it hard to speak steadily.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Jake.” You sighed, expression softening just slightly, studying his face. “We used to hang out. We were friends, even.”

Jake exhaled, biting his lip as a way to hold back his words. If he let it all out, he would scare you so fucking bad.

“Yes, when you were younger.”

“What changed?”

You saw how his shoulders tensed, his neck moving as he swallowed hard, demonstrating to feel flustered under your inquisitive gaze. His eyes dropped to his lap, where one of his hands rested comfortably. He dug the depths of his thoughts to keep it as safe and subtle as possible, not wanting to pour it all on you.

“I... I always saw you as a little sister. That’s how I looked at you, like family.”

You nodded along, following his soft-spoken speech. You didn't understand what exactly he was aiming for with it so far, so you let him continue, hoping it would bring a closure for your relationship to blossom again.

“But then–” He hesitated, eyes flickering up to you and then drifting away. His voice dropped an octave as he added. “I got overwhelmed with my last year in college and eventually with my work. So I didn't have time to see you often. Life just got… Busy.”

Deep down he knew you wouldn’t buy his lame explanation. However, didn’t stop him from holding tightly the small string of hope you would let it pass.

At the same time, he had a tingling feeling telling him to blurt out everything he went through when you were the subject. How hard it was to act normal when Jay talked about you, to not get hard seeing your cute instagram pictures, not picture himself getting lost in the middle of your plush thighs.

God, you worked him up too easily.

“I get that part, I really do,” you replied, boldly and kind of unconsciously placing your hand on top of Jake's. This time he didn’t flinch, taking in your soft, innocent touch. Still, his breath hitched. “But when I moved here, you started avidly avoiding me,” you continued, voice dropping to something near a whisper as your fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of his hand. “You’d ignore me at parties, never stopping by to visit. I just didn’t understand.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably on his seat, embarrassed of your accurate analysis.

“The visiting part is Jay's fault. He was the one who suggested for him to go to our house instead of us three coming over here. Just… Making things easier, I guess.”

“That makes sense,” you murmured, pulling your hand away as you realized the weight of the intimacy, afraid of being too weird. “But the avoiding and ignoring me… It doesn't make any.”

Jake closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep sigh. There were no more ways to run away from the topic; his weak excuses had long been overrun by the intensity of your pressing curiosity. You were ready to dig deep and uncover the truth at any cost. Jake knew you well enough to expect this – your persistence, your determination, your stubbornness were traits he had always admired in you and your brother.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you can explain why you’re sorry, maybe I’ll accept it,” you challenged, arching a brow and immediately grabbing his attention. You knew Jake’s competitive side and loved to play with it as a coaxing manner to get what you wanted.

You watched his eyes wavering just enough to make you wonder if your tactic would work that time. But then, he chuckled dryly, blinking away from your awaiting expression.

“I’m sorry for acting like that, Y/N.” He started. “I– I panicked,” his voice was subtle as a feather. If you weren’t alone and far from the noise happening in your living room, you doubt you would be able to hear it clearly.

“Panicked?” you echoed, confusion knitting your brow, your head tilting just slightly. “Over what?”

Jake’s face turned a deeper shade of red, especially on his cheeks and on the top of his ears. You got even more puzzled, especially after he answered with just a single word.

“You.”

You.

It hung in the heavy air as thick as a volcano’s smoke, deepening your confusion, your heart starting to beat faster and your hands getting sweaty.

“Me? What do you mean?”

You didn't expect your voice to sound so quiet as you spoke, but you got somehow caught by surprise with how things turned out.

So you really did something wrong?

“You… grew up, Y/N. You’re–” He struggled to find the right words, shifting uncomfortably once more, his eyes traveling between the floor, the table and his lap, never daring to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’re beautiful. And… more than that. You’re… You’re hot.”

An awkward and tense silence filled the room right after Jake’s stained voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, as if he wished he could swallow them back together with the knot on his throat.

Now that he had just verbalized the main reason for his behavior towards you, he was feeling extremely disgusting and pathetic. He could feel the weight of his own shame pressing down, and an almost nauseating guilt pushing at him; a reminder he was wrong for allowing you to go out from the safe and special spot as a “little sister” in his heart, to occupy a darker and more lustful one.

It wasn’t your fault, though. Jake would never in his life blame you for a mistake he had authorized to happen. This wasn’t just a fleeting, harmless slip; he had seen you, had filthy thoughts before fully realizing it was you. And afterwards he did nothing much to stop those thoughts from creeping back in, the only option being avoiding you instead of facing it as a true man.

He swallowed hard once more – becoming a natural habit at that point – and forced himself to look up for a brief moment. All he saw was your stunned expression, mouth slightly agape and eyes apparently trying to search for some kind of joke, to which it only fueled the growing dread inside him.

Jake’s mind was a spiral. The fragile line he had been teetering about you began to fall apart as he realized that you would probably cut him off completely, screaming at him the words he deserved to hear.

A creepy, weird and disgusting man.

His pulse quickened, panic creeping in with every second that you didn’t speak, an urge to break the silence immediately, as if maintaining his being in it would drive him completely insane. With that in mind, he opened his mouth to babble.

“I– I don’t expect you to understand. God, I wouldn’t even blame you if you decide to never speak to me again. I’m sure– I’m sure we can arrange an excuse to Jay about your study, or even tell the truth– I’m–” He cut himself briefly to look away from you, who still had your same expression. His hands were busy gesturing anxiously. “I know I crossed a very dangerous line. It’s so fucking wrong and– And I’ve tried to come up with anything to push it away, even ignore it. But then, there’s you.”

Jake’s voice faltered, as though his world was colliding, ending, as though he was on the verge of losing his mind somehow.

He was.

“There’s always you, looking like some kind of goddess that makes me go insane.”

The realization of what you just heard made your pulse quicken. Jake’s babbling worked perfectly to ground you and, ironically enough, to send you back to heaven, as you felt like dreaming after hearing his first sayings.

Over the years you thought about having Jake in other ways rather than just a friend or an older brother, but never quite grasping to it completely due to the small, yet existing age gap and the different stages of life drifting you apart.

To acknowledge how Jake really felt towards you was similar to living in a vivid fever dream, it got you clenching your thighs, panties pathetically dampening just enough to make you shy, as if he would become aware of your body reacting to his words.

You opened your mouth to respond, to try to find any words that could make sense in between the mess of emotions happening inside you; relief, desire, passion. But before you could even begin, a familiar voice cut through the tension, as sharp as a knife, startling both of you as if you had been caught red-handed.

“How's study going?”

After Jay broke into your studying session with Jake and consequently interrupted the development of your newfound possibility of relationship with the said guy, you couldn’t help but dive into a sea of frustration.

Jake immediately panicked and ran away, muttering a lame excuse that he had things to take care of and he would catch up with you later, leaving you sitting there, bewildered, confused and angry – with him and with you brother, who even though had no fault, shattered your chances to voice out your side of the story and maybe, just maybe, get Jake to your bedroom.

Jay didn’t flinch a little, aware of how Jake could be impulsive and random with his spontaneous persona and let him go, smiling softly to you after gently stroking your hair and ask if you wanted to relax with him and the remaining guys, thinking you could use some of it after the long minutes you spent studying.

You were quick to dismiss the offer, seizing the opportunity to excuse yourself to your room, pretending to be really tired and to need some time alone after reading so much physics hard stuff.

However, as you crashed into your bed and stuffed your head into the soft pillow, your body didn’t feel like soothing any time soon, your brain working overtime to remark each and every word uttered by Jake, his low voice as clear as crystal water as it repeated restlessly.

You’re hot. A goddess. Makes me go insane.

That night, you met a brand new and nameless sensation. It was close to frustration but layered with the tempting awareness of something you could nearly touch, yet not claim.

Jake ran away, as he always did, without even giving you the proper chance to tell him that, God, you felt the same – perhaps even worse.

His mere act of voicing those genuine, sultry words had already done enough to ruin your self-control – and panties, taking away the opportunity to express just how incredibly irresistible he looked, how you longed to devour every centimeter of his slightly sun-kissed skin, to taste his plush lips, to make him wholly yours.

You asked for Jake's number to Jay the next day, under the pretext of needing to get some extra materials and maybe schedule your following meetings, hoping for it to be reasonable enough. And though Jay willingly accepted and supported your idea, Jake partially ignored you, at most answering your texts with “ok” and “sure”, never leaving an opening for you to draw him into a longer conversation.

So when Jay served you a stack of pancakes on Monday, you expected everything to happen but what really unfolded.

“I scheduled another study session with Jake today. That cool with you?”

The forkful bringing you a piece of your food froze midair, the assimilation of what Jay’s just said made your movements halt shamefully instantly as you raised your eyes only enough to encounter Jay’s relaxed face.

“Mhm?”

“Jake’s coming over after work today,” Jay repeated casually, munching his food. “I think he gets off around four, so he’ll be here when you’re back from your classes.”

Ok, you definitely – and unfortunately – had heard him right. A spark of excitement and an urge to get yourself dressed extra prettily for college rushed over your body as you straightened your posture on your chair, using of a simple nod to silent agree with the deal.

You feared your words would get stuck on your throat.

“Oh, and I’ll be working from home today, so you won’t be alone with him.”

All the efforts were made for you not to choke on your food, but the honey sauce dripping straight down your throat elicited a quiet, small cough from you. You gulped down whatever was on your way to voice out anything, and all you managed was to mutter a confused “Huh?”

Jay smirked at your reaction, but not really reading into it.

“You know, just in case,” he shrugged nonchalantly and your brow furrowed, stomach twisting with nervousness.

“Just in case of what, exactly?”

You damned yourself for using such a fearful tone, like a frightened kid that had hidden a secret from their parents, leaving gaps for an overinterpretation that Jay could try doing if he was devoted to completely understanding the strange way you were acting.

You deeply wondered if he knew about whatever happened with you and Jake that Friday, or worse, if he eavesdropped on Jake's confession about how he felt about you.

It wasn’t like Jay would be fine with Jake coming over if he did in fact know or heard the conversation. And knowing your brother, he would rather have a civilized and polite conversation with you instead of playing around.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Jay started, a glint of mischief twinkling in his eyes. “You hate physics and I called Jake to come teach physics to you. The other day, you were kneading that pizza dough like it owed you money. Don’t know what you’d do to someone who’s a walking physics encyclopedia.”

Your pulse quickened, but your shoulders loosened. Gladly, Jay had already moved on the subject, unbothered, yapping about how he preferred doing his job from home and how annoying it was to deal with paperwork in person. All you could do was to nod along, anxiously counting the minutes.

With almost absolute certainty, none of your classes that day could hold your attention. And so it was. The professors' words seemed like random sound waves, failing to form coherent sentences for you, and you had to fight the constant urge to get up from your chair and leave, even though you knew Jake wouldn't be there yet.

Mondays were exhausting. You had to attend multiple classes, and especially that day there were practical lectures that kept you stuck on campus later than usual. By the end of the day, despite the exhaustion, you were still buzzing with anticipation.

You practically ran back to the apartment you shared with your brother, trying not to make too much effort and break a sweat – after all, you wouldn't have time for a shower or to get dressed properly before seeing Jake.

You felt like a teenager nervously preparing to meet her crush in the hallways between classes; your hands were trembling, your whole body thrilling with excitement, as if each part of you was electrified with anticipation.

Your heart pounded relentlessly, as if each beat echoed louder than the last, straight into your eardrums. The closer you got to your shared apartment, the harder it became to calm your racing thoughts, and the overwhelming mix of excitement and nervousness almost made you dizzy when you grabbed the door knob and twisted it open.

Jake was sprawled on your couch, golden specs casually resting on his face and his brown, silky hair poking to different places since he was playing with it nonchalantly while the other hand held his phone. His eyes raised up from the screen when he heard the sound of the door opening, and with a subtle smile he greeted you.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Your gaze instinctively hovered across the room, searching for Jay’s presence. At the same time, you fought against the urge to make yourself comfortable with Jake on your couch. He looked so inviting, cozy and fluffy laying in there, his demeanor soft and relaxed, nearly pulling you close, drifting your thoughts away from reality.

It took seconds for it to hit harshly, as you remembered the intimacy that had once been so natural between the two of you no longer existed, and the possibility of reclaiming that closeness felt slightly out of reach. It was a bitter thought, one that reminded you how fragile things had become.

However, for Jake’s misfortune you weren’t one to give up so easily, now aware of his feelings and thoughts towards you, there was no way to back down so quickly. Not knowing he nourished a desire strong enough to make him opt to avoid you in order to get over it.

“He’s in his office room,” Jake explained when noticed what you were doing, kindly breaking you out of your trance.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding awkwardly. Jake sat straight on the couch, eyes boldly locking into yours as he did so.

You licked your lips out of habit, a bit taken aback with the idea of being in a room alone with him again, the anxiety you had built up throughout the day exploding in your chest just like fireworks.

The slightest motion of your tongue dragging along your plump, cherry colored lips didn’t go unnoticed by Jake’s nervous gaze. His eyes flickered downwards right after, and you silently cheered when he took his time to appreciate your bare thighs in full display for him.

You had chosen an outfit that was simple yet comfortable, but also bold, different from what you had planned for the day before knowing you would spend time with Jake; a relatively oversized sweater that would protect you from the gentle breeze of the day, paired with a short skirt that highlighted your rounded thighs – thighs you knew Jake would enjoy seeing.

And he so fucking did. The way he parted his lips, swallowed nothing, and shifted uncomfortably on his seat confirmed your theory.

Jake’s cheeks warmed when he realized what he just did, checking you out carelessly and right in front of your beautiful eyes. He cleared his throat, ready to throw some random small talk to guide the situation to the real deal – the whole studying thing –, but you had other plans.

“I’m not mad.”

After years sharing moments with Jake, having him practically living in your house similar to a family member, you had gathered enough sources to know Jake was torturing himself with a guilt you didn’t see to be necessary, not when you desired him as much as he wanted you, not when things could be as simple as one plus one.

Jake was smart enough to catch onto what you were referring to, still, he hesitated, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief. He remained silent, waiting for your following words when you opened your mouth and closed, as though struggling to find the best, right ones.

Your feet moved towards his direction and you took the seat beside him, keeping a safe distance. A distance that would keep yourself under control not to jump on his lap, tug his hair with your hands while kissing him passionately, using your hips to rut onto his bulge, aiming to hear his lascivious noises.

Swallowing your impulsive thoughts back, deep on your throat, you continued.

“I’m not mad that you…” Holding back a shy smile, you bit your lip. “I’m not mad that you think I’m hot.”

Your voice came out as quiet as possible. The fleeting sensation of being heard by your brother weighed heavy on the air, pushing you to keep it as hushed as you could.

Once more, Jake shifted on his seat, his own fluster increasing after hearing you voicing out his last confession. He didn’t feel stupid, though. It was impossible to feel anything other than thrilled.

He couldn’t pinpoint precisely what turn that conversation with you would be taking; the small hint of fear creeped his chest, but the excitement of positively reading the situation was deliciously overgrowing it.

“But we have to talk…” You tried to sound firm, yet gentle, not wanting to scare him away. The way your eyes rested on his face made Jake’s heart skip a beat. You were so fucking beautiful. “You know, I didn’t tell you about my part in this story.”

Jake felt his body untensing with your relaxed, tempting even, words; the atmosphere heavy but not with anything bad. It felt suffocating in the bestest way possible, as if a hundred of amazing possibilities could unfold, each of them having your lips pressing against his as a starter and his dick buried deep in you as a finisher.

“Do we?” Jake tilted his head to the side, eyes gleaming with teasing after the realization. The same behavior he would have with you was brought back in a snap, nonetheless, you doubted your strength to deal with it, especially when his two brown orbs showed a hint of something darker.

“Yes.”

A quiet, feather-like whisper. It was all you managed to say, failing to keep up with your steady, collected image.

“Okay, we can talk,” he nodded softly, and though his eyes showed affection, the faint smirk adorning the corner of his lips triggered your inner core to pleasantly twist.

Jake leaned closer, now relaxed before your presence; your compliant demeanor easing his way through it, taunting his bolder side to shine brighter. Your breath hitched when his eyes wandered your face carefully, his body nearly pressing yours as he drank in your perfect features before gently grabbing your chin to pull you closer.

He was centimeters away from touching you where you needed him the most – firstly. Because your entire being craved for him.

“But unfortunately, I have to teach you physics before, pretty.”

That was how you ended up sitting at your desk after announcing your arrival to your brother, saying you would be with Jake in your bedroom for studies purposes.

Bullshit.

Jake brought an extra chair to sit by your side, and you truly made double effort to keep your focus on whatever he was explaining, but his words sounded slurred, vague, like a baby talk. His voice and accent were unnecessarily attractive, inducing your head to concentrate on its sounds instead of the meaning. Not to mention his fucking kissable lips, so, so, so close, yet so far.

Each time your eyes darted to the side, you caught a glimpse of his side profile. Distracting, beautiful, captivating.

Jake had a nose you swore it was sculpted by the finest, most talented artist; sharp and smooth just right, softly curved at the tip, gorgeously displayed on his handsome face. That high bridge triggered your most profound and dirty thoughts, your eyes dropping to a darker shade almost instantly as you got drunk on his features.

Jake’s whole being was attractive, tempting, a living demon who now taunted your worst behavior and you loved every bit of it. Alongside that, the unveiling situation between the two of you was eating you alive, slowly consuming your mind.

After the little study session you agreed on talking about the dangerously unspoken matter, with the hope of resolving things. On your bed, if you were lucky.

You wanted to have Jake’s hands exploring your body, gripping and pulling you closer, pressing you against the mattress while fucking you from behind, hard, deep, fast, whatever he decided to. You needed his lips marking your neck, his face stuffed between your legs, his mouth working on your pussy while you screamed his name.

You could almost feel how his tongue would work perfectly in your clit, licking, sucking and–

“And that’s how thermodynamics works. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

You blinked confused towards Jake, feeling just a little bad for not really enjoying your private lessons as much as he was. It was cute to see how talkative he became whenever physics was the topic, and extremely hot to witness his smart brain working in full motion to explain every word to you.

Nonetheless your attention span was long gone, ever since his scent started to intoxicate your senses, making you wish to have it all over your skin with his body hovering yours.

“But of course you’d be paying more attention to my lips and my nose.”

You widened your eyes, speechless. Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head in a faux discontentment. You trembled on your seat, unconsciously moving back from the closeness of your bodies; there was a fear creeping in your head of losing your inner battle to the raw passion tingling your skin.

“Listen, Y/N. I’m really trying here. I’d appreciate it if you did some effort too.”

Jake was once again teetering the same risky line, this time with less hesitation, his confidence bubbling as he realized you wouldn't be pushing him away.

The moment he caught your hungry your devouring him throughout the entire tutoring, how willingly to let him in you seemed to be, devoted to the idea of fucking under your brother’s roof, he threw his self control away and started to think with his other head.

You gulped, eyes lowering to your notebook peacefully resting on your desk.

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Y’know what?” Jake suddenly stood up, offering his hand with his gorgeous slender fingers full of silver rings for you to grab. “Com’ere.”

Your squinted eyes flickered between his digits and his face, searching for some proper explanation that unfortunately you didn't receive. So you followed his steps, standing up as well and shivering with the touch of his mildly cold skin against yours.

With the way Jake grinned, your stomach tightened, fearing whatever he had on his mind. Trying not to be so obvious with your embarrassing reactions, you frowned.

“What are we doi–”

“The first law in thermodynamics is that energy can’t be destroyed or created, it can only change forms.”

He said his speech within his teacher-like tone once more, interrupting you without caring to explain why standing up and explaining it to you again would make the material magically settle inside your brain.

Especially when you wanted to settle on your bed with him on top of you.

“What the f–”

“So, if I do this,” Jake raised a hand, gently placing it on your right cheek. You winced and retracted a bit with the unexpected soft brush of his slightly cold skin on your, now, heated face. “Do you feel it?” He whispered, fingertips tracing the warm flesh underneath his touch, his body instinctively getting closer to yours as his eyelids softened. “The heat of your skin will work its way to make mine less cold, y’know? Mine is absorbing from yours, to stabilize our temperatures together. The energy isn’t being destroyed nor created, it’s transferred from one body to another until they find the perfect equilibrium.”

It was pathetic the way you nodded along, Jake’s words and presence reverberating throughout your body similar to a wave of pure pleasure, your eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and shock with this new method.

So, physics can be interesting, huh?

“Now,” Jake got closer, his voice dropping an octave while the hand that held yours found comfort on your waist, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “Question: what happens when two equally heated bodies touch each other?”

Jake’s face was just a few centimeters away from yours, his lips ghosting, tempting a kiss you wished to happen as soon as possible; he seemed to be testing the waters, glad that you allowed him to do so.

The way his warm breath tickled your skin was dizzying, yet addictive. You shivered, respiration quickening with the way Jake’s eyes dropped, almost closing, as he got charmed by your soft, plump and oh, so kissable lips.

There was no adequate explanation to how your body reflexively reacted to his stimulus, your hands traveling slowly to grip onto something as a way to ground yourself, finding the thin fabric of Jake’s shirt on your way through it.

“Nothing–” You gulped when you started talking, because the simple motion had your lips grazing Jake’s. He nodded reassuringly, as a way to incite you to keep speaking, the grip on his shirt tightening. “Nothing changes.”

Your eyes lazily fluttered close and open, the tension nearly palpable in the air. Out of habit, you wetted your lips with your tongue; a habit that now got you brushing it against Jake’s lips as well. His breath hitched, surprised, but he didn’t stutter.

“Yeah,” Jake muttered, letting his hand thread through your strands, tugging it gently. You moaned softly, lips parted, a small frown gracing your features.

Jake drunkenly groaned, throwing caution and patience aside with your reaction. Fuck, his self control was down to hell and for seconds he forgot where he was, because you were everything and everywhere in his head.

He could feel how tight his pants became as his dick twitched for some attention, hard and heavy.

“You’re a quick learner when there’s practice involved, aren’t you?”

Jake’s lips were now grazing featherly on the sensitive flesh of your neck, teasing to kiss but never truly giving in.

You didn’t even notice how much you were leaning into his touch, as within every tempting brush on your skin you melted deeper, growing impatient each passing second.

Your fingers boldly slipped underneath his shirt, tracing the subtle lines of the abs you dreamed of licking and kissing and sucking and… God, you were on the verge of crying out of desperation. Your fingernails dug harder into his skin, eliciting a jolt from Jake that immediately pressed you against himself in response.

“Please, Jakey–” You whimpered when you felt his hardened bulge poking you, together with – finally – his wet kisses on your neck, nibbling gently the area with an aching slow.

Jake chuckled in contact with your sensitive skin, loving the way you tilted your head to give him more access, loving the way you were needily pressing yourself on his body, loving the way your hands involved his waist firmly; goosebumps flushed over as he delighted in your sweet and lascivious noises and responses.

A phantom of a smirk tugged the corner of Jake’s glistening lips as he trailed soft little pecks through your jawline and near to your mouth, laughing gently with the way you searched instantly for more with hooded eyes.

“Wan’ me to kiss you, pretty?” Jake asked, voice thick with raw desire. He now held you with both hands on your hips, one shamelessly lowering to your ass every so often, while yours glided over his chest until they reached his firm shoulders.

You watched Jake’s eyes flash with a mischievous spark and you promptly knew that you could play that game too. So instead of answering right away, you feigned the purest expression you could, batting your eyelashes deliberately as you looked up to him, big doe eyes twinkling with a playful innocence.

Jake wavered under your gaze, breath twitching, clearly weak to your tactics already. You held back your smile, keeping your faux naivety; the single action fueling Jake’s craving deeper.

“Only if you want it too, Jakey.”

You had no right to sound so pure, as if you were immaculate, untouched, never once ruined, yet dripping with lust and desire. So fucking filthy.

“Fuck, doll.” Jake muttered faintly, not holding back anymore, his jaw clenching as he harshly dragged you over the room, far from gently as he pushed you to bounce on the soft mattress of your bed. “I’ll kiss you,” he said, hovering on top of your body, the excitement bubbling pleasantly in your low area. “And then I’ll fuck you so, so fucking hard.”

You giggled, getting comfortable on your bed as Jake positioned himself between your legs, which hugged him naturally. As he lowered his face to do as he said, you smirked.

“Is that a promise?”

Jake’s eyes darkened, pupils wide showing you a sea of unknown feelings you never thought you would witness with him. His lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, one hand trailing deliberately the curve of your hip, your waist, chest, until it was gently wrapped around your neck.

“Bet.”

Driven by a mutual need, Jake dived into you passionately, almost desperate. You let out an instantaneous satisfied moan with the feeling of his soft lips pressing harshly on yours, one hand flying to take place on his silky, thick strands, the other gripping his wrist, keeping his hand in place on your throat.

It took seconds to have Jake’s wet tongue infiltrating the electric touch and unapologetically searching for yours while his body grinded just slightly against your clothed cunt, making it pulse in desperation, dampening the fabric of your panties.

You tried to remember if you had locked the door beforehand, the faintest peak of your moral appearing just to be completely vanished, forgotten due to the vibrations of Jake’s small noises; his groans sent signals straight to your throbbing core, each clutch of your fingers tangled on his locks igniting a new sound that you discovered to be your favorite.

Jake tightened his fingers around your throat faintly, starting a path of sloppy kisses down to your neck and shoulders, his hot tongue savoring each piece of your exposed smooth skin, and everything you could do was to squirm underneath him, struggling to maintain your sounds low.

With your movement, you accidentally brushed your knee on Jake’s crotch area the exact same moment he released your throat, causing him to open-mouth moan and frown, lips now working on your covered breasts, busying his free hand to squeeze your hips; just the fleeting contact of his heavy, still clothed, dick against your body fueled your craving deeper, your hands gripping on his strands harder.

“Jake, can you please hurry up?” You said in between a moan when he nibbled your nipple over your shirt. “We– We can’t be caught.”

Jake looked up at you, beholding the view of your beautiful fucked out expression with just a few minutes of making out while his hands explored your body. He would bet millions that underneath your underwear, you had already made a mess – the thought alone enough to make him gulp, thrilled to feel your spongy drippy walls enveloping his throbbing length.

“Newton’s third law,” Jake mumbled suddenly against your stomach, eyes glazed in yours that now showed a confused state, eyes sparkling with pure desire. He curled his fingers on the waistband of your sweatpants, lowering it enough to give him access to your laced underwear. “For every action, there’s a reaction.”

His explanation didn’t do much for you to understand right away, your frown deepening asking why he would say that so out of the blue. But as soon as he pressed his fingers over your panties and started to draw circles on your clit, you kind of got it.

“Shit,” you whispered within a whimper, rolling your hips forward as a way to get more of what Jake was offering you, making his lips curl with a satisfied grin. “I swear to G–God…”

The slowness of his movements got you sighing in frustration. It was clear he was playing with you – quite literally –, and the possibility of Jay hearing you two or even worse, bursting the door open and caughting you mid-act was as frightening as arousing.

Having to be quiet, to keep it down, to not raise suspicions. You clenched around nothing. Jake nearly felt it.

His tongue was constantly wetting his lips, mouth watering, his breath heavy, eager, like a starved man who had his favorite meal on full display but couldn’t do anything other than… watch.

You angrily propped yourself on your elbows, tugging Jake’s hair to pull him back to be face-to-face with you, his fingertips never stopping the circles on your cunt. Your lips were centimeters away from each other, eyes hooded, deepened in lust. Jake saw a remnant of your playful aura getting lost amidst the lewd words that came out of your mouth.

“You can’t keep up with your promises, I see,” you murmured, your voice low, sultry, laced with challenge; the smirk dancing on your lips heightened the defiance’s level, triggering Jake’s pulse to quicken. His breath caught as he arched an eyebrow “Should I ask you to leave so I can finish this myself?” You teased, pulling his head to the side by tightening your grip on his locks. “Are you all talk, Jaeyun?”

Jake froze for a brief moment, his mind working hard to connect your words, and the moment it did, his features hardened, utterly lured by your bait; jaw clenched, eyes darker, breath ragged. It dropped to a deeper shade of craving, raw and delightful.

Your core buzzed with anticipation and you unconsciously let out a gasp when Jake pulled you to lay back down on the soft mattress by the waist, hands immediately removing the last piece of cloth that covered your lower body, quickly to undress himself from his own shirt and jeans, exposing his torso and his hardened cock pressing against his underwear.

Absurdly hot.

Jake was absurdly hot.

A single silver necklace graced his beautiful neck in contrast with his subtly tanned skin, his chest, toned enough to drive you insane, rose and fell faintly. The way his perfect v-line drew your attention towards his underwear seemed almost purposeful, the stained portion on the thin fabric around his tip got your mouth watering. One thing you were sure of: Jake was big.

He smirked with the way you devoured him whole with your filthy gaze, feeling as much wanted as he desired you too. He playfully dropped his eyes down to his own cock just to glance at you before getting completely naked, catching just enough of your reaction over his bare body.

You had little to no time to appreciate the view as Jake hovered over you quickly, propping himself in between your spreaded legs. Your eyes gleamed with longing and your mouth fell agape when Jake started to glide his dick on your wet folds. He couldn’t hold back a groan with the feeling too, eager to get your pussy hugging his shaft.

“Condom?” He asked, lips kissing the corner of your mouth while waiting for your answer about where to find the said protection. Your immediate reply got him throbbing.

“No.”

Jake fully halted his hips, looking you dead in the eye, and when he saw nothing other than certain, he groaned. “Fuck, pretty. You can’t say th–”

“Raw, Jaeyun.” You repeated yourself, fingernails digging deep on his biceps, a moan escaping from your lips when his heavy cock brushed your clit.

“Damn,” he mumbled against your neck, aligning his length within your pulsing, drippy hole, aching to be fulfilled.

As Jake’s tip pressed against you, a messy kiss took place of your mouths in order to muffle your noises, sloppy and hot, tongues everywhere, teeth pressing each other’s bottom lip harshly, caring little to nothing about hurting.

You whimpered with the feeling of him filling you so good, going deeper and deeper each passing second. When he finally buried himself completely, a groan got lost in between your kisses, and he kept still while you adjusted, though it was extremely hard to wait when you tightened your walls so perfectly around him.

“You– You feel so good,” he muttered against your lips, voice weak, losing himself in the feeling with his face contorting in pure pleasure as he licked and sucked your bottom lip, asking for more kisses.

The wording and how he said it got you clenching more and Jake felt it right away, your eyes fluttering close as he didn’t hold back and started thrusting on you slowly. He was so deep and intense on you, yet deliberate, a pacing you would curse if you weren’t enjoying that much.

A soft knock on your bedroom door interrupted the blissful moment, panic instantly taking over your faces as you widened your eyes and gasped, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand.

“Shit,” you whispered, looking at the closed door over Jake’s shoulder, your heart beating loud inside your chest.

You never prayed so hard for a door to be locked.

“Y/N?” Jay calmy called out from the other side.

“Answer him.” Jake whispered demandingly against your cheek, enjoying it a bit too much for your liking, especially because if you two got caught, it wasn’t just you who would get screwed.

His eyes scanned your expression, how heavy was your breathing, how bright with fear your eyes shone, although there was a thick layer of pleasure not hiding your enjoyment of the situation.

“Yeah?” You tried your hardest to sound steady and not stained, but it became a difficult mission when Jake was pushing himself even deeper within each deliberate roll, clearly searching to hit your sensitive spot.

“Are you alright? Did Jake leave already?”

Your eyes darted over to Jake, who was keeping the grind slow, painfully slow. You arched an eyebrow, not saying a word as you waited for the man on top of you to decide if he was going to lie to his best friend or not.

Jake smirked.

“No, I’m still here,” he kind of shouted, biting his bottom lip to contain a whimper when you tugged his hair at the same time you squeezed him with your walls. After realizing his weakness of having his locks being pulled, you started to use it as an advantage. “And she’s fine, we’re–” he interrupted himself because of the quiet moan that escaped your parted lips, forehead resting on yours, the fear of being heard creeping stronger, fueling, feeding his arousal to the extreme. “We’re wrapping things up.”

Jake managed to let it out in one go, luckily and supposedly believable enough for Jay not to try open the door or ask any of you to do it.

“Oh, um, okay… I just finished my work,” Jay said casually. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Oh, great. Jay’s room. The one next door.

“Alright, bro,” Jake was the only one able to speak, especially because you had now your teeth pressing on his shoulders as a way to keep yourself quiet. “See you in a few, then.”

You two not-so-patiently waited for the sound of Jay’s footsteps to fade far enough down the hall before continuing, Jake’s eyes filled with teasing when he looked back at you and immediately started to faster his thrusts, taking in from your instant response of curving your back with lips parted, the slightest moan escaping from them.

“Shh, baby girl. Don’t make any noises, yeah?” Jake whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your skin. With the way his fingertips traced softly your thighs, only to harshly grip into your flesh and pound deeper, you couldn’t hold back your whimper, wincing. “Shh…” He shushed again, an obvious smirk adorning his plump lips that now rested on your swollen ones, his low voice causing your whole body to feel like on fire, skin tingling in despair.

You wanted to scream his name so bad.

“J–Jake…” You moaned underbreath, struggling to keep it quiet. Jake chuckled, amused by your reckless behavior.

“Do you want your brother to hear us, sweetheart?” He asked, filthy, feigning a mocking tone. “I don’t think he’d like to know how deep into you I’m in right now.”

With that, he thrusted once more, hitting your sweet spot right away. You nearly cried as you threw your head back, walls clenching around his dick furiously, fingernails sinking into his flesh, back arching.

Jake grinned, in complete awe with your surrendered, fucked up form, wishing so bad to be able to get more of you – your screams, your whimpers, you chanting his name, anything. He just knew you would sound even hotter.

“Such a dirty little girl. Dying for someone to hear us, huh?”

“N–No…” You whined, pathetically shaking your head and softly smacking his shoulder as you got lost in yourself. You felt your body starting to convulse as Jake kept on hitting your g-spot over and over, barely noticing he had his forehead resting on yours again, his hard breathing blowing harshly on your face. “Can’t– So big–”

You rolled your eyes with the speed of Jake’s hips increasing. He wanted to go harder and faster, but the slapping sounds were already growing too loud, teetering the edge of getting caught a bit too much. Not to mention the blend of quiet moans, whimpers and groans you both exchanged in between pants and messy kisses.

Within minutes Jake felt the coil on his stomach tightening, his release was near and by the way you started to sound desperate, you were close too.

“I’m not gon’ last much longer, pretty,” Jake hissed when you wrapped your legs around his hips and pushed him deeper, helping him to maintain the rhythm of his thrusts. “Fuck...”

You fluttered your eyes open – didn’t even remember when you had closed it – right on time to catch a glimpse of Jake’s necklace dangling close to your face as he propped himself up to ease his pushes, his sweaty hair part sticking to his forehead, part hanging down, grazing softly on your nose.

The overwhelming feeling of Jake’s burying himself deep into you, filling up each centimeter inside your cunt, his scent all over your senses, his sweet and hot silent moans, the way he had a pleasant frown gracing his features, every now and then biting his lip.

You felt your orgasm building up in a delightful, electrifying wave that flushed your trembling body.

“I wanna–”

“Come to me, baby,” Jake urged you, his own climax teetering the edge, voice cracking. “Wan’ feel you creaming my cock.”

A mild louder noise escaped your lips as you shivered, legs shaking with the amount of pressure your body was releasing. Jake bursted right after your juices coated his length, stuffing you up with his warm seed.

Your heavy breaths filled the room for a while. Jake’s tired body pressing against yours within an intimacy that made your heart flutter, realization hitting that you just had fucked your crush, who just happened to be your brother’s best friend.

You closed your eyes, a sting of a bittersweet feeling growing inside your chest.

“We still need to talk.”

The talk never really happened, since the constant visits unfolded your relationship with Jake better than you expected.

It seemed to be a no strings attached type of relationship, with you and Jake kissing and fucking anytime you had the chance to in between your tutoring classes.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, and foolish to some extent, because tasting Jake's body and mouth awakened the same feelings of love you once buried deep within you, feelings that you now had to bury again, fully aware that they weren’t nearly reciprocated.

Jake probably saw you as woman he could fuck, and you thought you could live with that.

Your encounters with Jake became as usual as your classes, and gratefully Jay obliviousness blinded him from the real thing happening under his roof, because in no world you would need everyday physics lessons, even with your tough relationship with it.

At some point you started to believe that your tactics to restrain yourself around Jake had been perfected.

When Jake changed his behavior with you, avoiding you at parties and the other events where you both accidentally crossed paths, Jay never suspected a thing. First, because he knew how busy Jake was with his work, and second, because he believed friendships were flexible and often riddled with uncontrollable nuances – meaning, you and Jake were simply going through a phase where things weren’t aligning.

It became routine to pretend you were still in the same cycle, with Jake acting as a casual friend who was just helping you with your studies enough to pass the course.

Jay had no idea you had promised Jake that you would only let him eat you out if you aced your exams – although you would let him do it anyway.

It was just so fun to watch him throw tantrums at you, whining how much he needed to feel your cunt pulsing and dripping on his tongue. You couldn’t deny the excitement of receiving a head from Jake was big; the way he kissed you and how high bridged his nose was, were enough proof that he would do a hell of a job.

As the semester was reaching its end, your anxiety grew.

You felt secure in most of your subjects, because even though Jake was actively present in your life, you managed to find out time to focus on your individual studies and felt confident enough in them.

But then there was physics.

The one you were supposedly studying, locked in the room with Jake. The one you learned while feeling the heat of his body against yours, his soft whispers, groans in your ear as his hands explored every centimeter of your skin.

It was undeniable that Jake's practical method worked wonders, and that was exactly why you took the lead and suggested that for that day's study session.

“You wanna do what?”

You and Jake were sitting across each other in your room: Jake on your bed and you at your desk chair. He had just arrived for your tutoring of the day and you immediately greeted him with a suggestion that had him with the most dumbfounded, in disbelief, shocked kind of expression written all over his face.

“Suck you off while you explain the basics of that shit,” you repeated yourself casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Quantum.” Jake pointed, his eyebrows skyhigh at that point.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling innocently while playing with a pen and wiggling your legs off the chair.

“You want me to teach you the basics of quantum physics while you suck me off?” He echoed, still trying to completely comprehend your proposal.

“That’s exactly what I just said.”

It was an undeniable proposal, right?

Jake blinked, his brain falling into a dangerous short-circuit. To imagine you, kneeled in front of him, his dick buried deep in your throat, free-fucking would be his wettest dream come true.

However, there was a big chance of him losing control of his sounds – and himself – the very moment your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, tongue playing with his sensitive length as your gorgeous doe eyes looked up to him.

Jake damned himself for getting hard just by the thought of it.

“And how does that help you… Practically talking?”

He was really trying to logical think and follow your thought process, shifting on his seat while his mind traveled away.

The whole fucking while studying was a thing not only because you both wanted it to happen, but mostly because Jake could partially dodge the creeping guilt, knowing his work was getting done, even if that meant him shoving his dick inside you while doing so – a win-win situation with his peculiar, yet effective technic.

With that particular request, he couldn’t quite pinpoint where the logic leaned, triggering his mind to wonder if you were getting dangerously close to crossing the unspoken line that came with your agreement.

Jake’s eyes tracked as you stood up and walked close to him, casually sitting on his lap, arms naturally wrapping around his shoulders.

“Well…” You trailed off, fingers slowly and shamelessly drawing a soft line across his chest, feeling his breath hitching beneath your touch; your eyes dropping to a darker shade of lust, shifting the whole atmosphere. “Hearing your moaning voice would… Y’know, help me internalize it,” you smirked, letting each word teasingly hang in the thick air.

Jake’s eyes narrowed with a spark of intrigue, head tilting slightly as he searched for a hint of humor or mischief in your gaze that would give away your plan. But you held his stare, unwavering, eyes burning with a confidence that left no room for doubt, no suggestion of play.

“So…” He murmured within a gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing drawing your attention briefly. “You’d remember the explanation… Because I’m…”

“Moaning it.”

The wording left your lips light as a feather, yet as sultry as the taste of the finest wine – tempting, subtle, delicious. Jake leaned in, failing to ignore your bait, his jaw clenching as his grip on your waist tightened; a quiet curse escaped him, underbreath, the moment you busied your lips on his sensitive neck.

“Fuck…”

You rolled your hips just slightly, teasing a touch you wouldn’t be giving to him. Not so easily.

“What do you say, mhm?” You kissed Jake’s jawline, his chin, the tip of his nose and then his plush lips.

There was something about the way he kissed you back, deliberate and tender, as if you were everything he waited for his whole life.

After days of sharing intimacy, you began to notice that sometimes Jake kissed you like a lover that long dreamed of you – mouthful and yearning, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Like a soft breeze fanning your skin on a warm summer afternoon – comfortable enough to make you sigh, yet stirring something deep. Like the glow of the sun fading beneath the horizon at dusk – beautiful, fleeting, and full of possibilities. Like a first lover – fear of losing the sight of you and unforgettable.

Jake kissed you like he was slowly allowing himself to fall in love with you. And you didn’t know yet, but he was.

Each attach of lips elicited new waves of euphoria through your veins as your feelings emerged without a proper warning, kicking the front door of your heart open and making a delightful mess.

You couldn’t help the strong pump of your heart and the flutter on your stomach the moment Jake crossed your sight. How thrilled you got when scheduling your meets, not caring about the studying neither the fucking; eager to kiss, to hug, just to have Jake close.

In that very moment you wished, more than ever, for him to feel the same way. You could sense the desire in his every touch, in the way his body pressed flush to yours, demonstrating how much he needed you, how much he was losing himself in you, like magnets.

You could feel it in the way his hands roamed, the warmth of his touch, the intensity in his gaze. It was tangible, undeniable. Jake wanted you. But was it enough? Did Jake want more than just a moment, or was it just an ephemeral passion, burning brightly before fading into memory like ashes?

On the other hand, Jake’s mind slipped into a haze, zoning out while drowning deeper in the warm and cozy ocean that was you.

He found himself lost in the memory of your first kiss – fueled by a mixture of fear and excitement. Not the fear of being caught, but the terror of realizing he had already fallen too intensely, his entire being consumed by the intoxicating pull of you. And he did nothing, nothing to fight back or to swim back to the top, utterly, willingly under your spell.

You had him wrapped around your fingers from the moment you first crossed paths at that party.

Jake had tried to keep his safe distance, as a way of respecting your brother’s implicit boundaries and you, the little girl he grew up with. But mainly because he was completely aware that once he succumbed to the temptation of you, there would be no turning back.

When you both embarked on this brand new journey of friends with benefits, Jake knew that he could end up losing himself more than he should.

He believed you deserved to be treated like a queen – to be adored and desired as the most precious thing in the world. And he could be that person if you allowed him to.

But it was as clear as crystal water that you didn’t see him in that way. Not when you withdrew from acts of intimacy, not when you pulled back as the kiss grew too passionate, too full of love, not when you showed that you weren’t ready to take another step forward together.

Jake didn’t mind being used for your pleasure, not at all. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement: you got your physics lessons and some good orgasms, and he got to have you for a brief moment, just long enough to satisfy the hunger he felt. Then he would return, craving more, locked in a cycle he knew all too well, hoping his excuses of giving extra hours of teaching would be enough to keep you by his side just a little bit more.

That first taste had done more than ignite a flame; it had marked him, like a brand, leaving him completely, irrevocably at your mercy. Jake was yours. You just didn’t know yet.

That one kiss lingered painful longer than any other. When you finally pulled away, your breath came in short bursts and you were unsure whether it was the intensity of his touch or how quickly your heartbeats increased in such a short span of time.

Jake wore a lovestruck expression that had your body responding immediately – heat spreading through your chest, leaning forward, wanting more of whatever he had to offer.

“You pull me like magnets, you know that?” Jake casually and suddenly dropped in, voice barely above a whisper but thick with something unfamiliar to you so far, something that got your stomach fluttering with an emotion you didn’t want to name yet, scared of being real.

You swallowed down your immediate reaction, trying to regulate your breath while being torn between letting your heart follow along or keeping your feet on the ground, afraid of reading too much into that unusual moment that was just starting to unfold before you.

“That’s not today’s subject,” you managed to mutter back, a tinge of anguish holding onto your voice as your eyes traced Jake’s handsome features.

You could lose yourself in him for hours and never grow tired. He had the most perfect face, soft puppy brown eyes filled with sincerity, prominent cheekbones that constantly shone brighter when he was smiling big, showing off his pretty dental arch with the slightest curl at the end of his plush lips. His sharp figure juxtaposed perfectly with the softness of his nature. Sweet, tender, endlessly loving.

For you, it was effortless to fall for Sim Jaeyun.

“When would it be, then?”

Jake had gathered all his strength and courage to throw that question at you, wavering just a little when you answered with a dumbfounded frown and a quiet “What?”.

“When the fact that you pull me like magnets, opposites but still ridiculously attracting me towards you, would be the subject?” He asked, his hands pressing harder on your hips as if he was trying to ground himself out of his nervousness, as if he was struggling to not falter.

You arched an eyebrow, an unconscious smile creeping on your mildly swollen lips as your breath hitched. Before you could reply with another question, Jake continued, making it difficult to keep thinking coercively, since each of his words traveled straight into your heart.

“‘Cuz, pretty, it’s pathetic,” he chuckled as softly as his voice came out, head leaning to the side. “When I’m with you I feel like I’m a particle in motion, constantly accelerating in pure devotion,” Jake's orbs were so, so filled with softness and fondness as he kept on saying. One of his hands cupped your cheek and he brushed your lower lip. “You make me feel like I’m at the center of a black hole. No matter how much I try to escape, I’m just pulled deeper into your gravity.”

With that you giggled, head being thrown back as the flustered heat creeped on your cheeks quickly, your eyes briefly flickering away from Jake’s loving ones for a moment before glazing into them again, this time intensely exposing your vulnerable side.

You finally lowered your guard, allowing those same feelings you had been nurturing for years to come into the light to face the beautiful, thrilling possible outcome.

“Did you just confess your feelings for me using physics metaphors, Sim Jaeyun?” You asked with a playful glint in your eyes and a teasing smile that had Jake nuzzling his flustered face on your neck, holding back his own shy smile within a bit on his lower lip.

“Yes. I, indeed, did,” he muffled against your skin, making you shiver a bit.

Your heart vibrated with pure, unexpected joy. Your afternoon had a turn you weren’t waiting for, but now that it did, relief flooded your senses. Jake had feelings for you too.

Another giggle escaped your lips. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined Jake confessing his feelings to you, let alone as you sat on his lap, sharing intimacy and knowing you were the ultimate reason for his body to be so reactive. Couldn’t be more perfect, everything seemed too good to be true.

With a light lean back, enough to pull Jake away from your embrace, your eyes dropped to drink in his perfectly drawn full lips. The air shifted, this time, not only with a momentary lushness or vague desire how it used to be, but carried with a ton of something close to love as well.

You rolled your hips and Jake groaned, sensitive to you already.

“So,” you purred, your teeth sank into your bottom lip, a mischievous grin tugging the corner of your mouth as you pushed yourself forward, making Jake’s heart flutter as his back encountered the soft mattress of your bed. “Does my pretty physics boy want me to suck him off while he lays down or…?”

Jake’s body instantly winced with the way your eyes darkened and how velvety your voice came out of your gorgeous lips; the nickname didn’t go unnoticed either, causing his dick to twitch inside his pants.

Your touch feathery, yet trailing flames through his covered chest stirred up the deepests feelings he used to hide. Jake took in your reaction as a quiet yes or maybe a subtle “me too”. Knowing your nature so far, you would rather give him a head, as in a taste of your affection, than admitting out loud you liked him back.

Little did he know you were on the verge of panic, fighting the urge of shying away because, although he just confessed to you, you felt pathetically nourishing feelings way more intense towards him, with your heart pounding loud and unsteady and an overwhelming ache not-so-quietly overtaking your being.

You craved to give Jake your everything, to devour every centimeter of him if that meant being close – closer than words alone could ever take you. There were no syllables together to form a proper sentence that showed a quarter of what it felt to love Jake.

“I– I honestly don’t know…” Jake murmured as soft as fluffy clouds, contrasting your demeanor at that moment, with your lips now placing slow and soft kisses all over the sensitive flesh of his neck.

You chuckled when Jake started to squirm a little, his hands nervously gripping on your ass and quiet moans escaping his lips as you took your time to enjoy his warmth with your mouth. There was something so arousing about how Jake was always reactive to your touches, either the lightest or the more intense ones, his body clearly faltering deliciously under your control. It made your panties wet quite instantly.

When you started to nibble that same area, you also felt Jake bucking his hips upwards, as a way to get some friction to satisfy his neglected dick. Jake was very sensitive on his neck and didn’t have to admit it out loud; the fact that he was getting harder and harder underneath you was enough to show it.

His puppy eyes lighted up with an adorable blender of curiosity and excitement under your piercing gaze when you lifted yourself to straddle, knees on each side of his hips. The same gaze roamed his whole clothed body as if you could see through it, ravishing each small portion with adoration.

Jake had an extra cute and confused expression taking over his face when you suddenly stood up and let him go out of the warmness of your body, a playful grin dancing on your lips as you softly tapped his thigh before saying.

“Get comfy, Jakey,” there was a thick layer of desire on your voice blended with a hint of mischievousness that got Jake’s dick throbbing while he did as you said, propping himself on his elbows to properly lay on your bed.

You positioned yourself on top of him again, smiling cheekily as you lowered your face just enough to purr against his ear, your hot breath making him wince. “Cuz I’m about to make you forget your own name.”

The way Jake’s eyes widened after hearing your non-filtered filthy words had you giggling, his Adam’s apple attractively bobbing up and down as he swallowed, your lips attaching to it because you truly wanted to devour Jake as whole.

“But Jay–” He tried to reason with you, his hands betraying his rational side as he intensified the grip on your ass once again, pulling you down so he could rut against you; his pants growing uncomfortably tighter each passing second.

“Shh,” you shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his plump lips before shaking your head. “He’s not home,” you added, planting a few kisses along his neck, jawline and lastly on his lips, propping yourself up on your arms, one on each side of Jake’s head.

A low moan escaped Jake at the sight of your fierce, determined gaze, fearing he wouldn’t be able to handle whatever you had prepared in your mind. You stared at him like a predator about to strike a prey, and damn, you looked so unbelievably sexy doing it.

“It’s just the two of us.”

Just for a few brief moments, he thought, considering adding. But you seemed more unwavering than ever to follow through with your plan, and honestly? Jake didn’t care anymore.

Not when you slowly stripped him down until only his underwear remained. Not when you were kissing and licking every centimeter of his chest and abdomen, your enchanting eyes giving innocent, pure glances that contrasted sharply with your every move. Not when he could feel your hands deliberately exploring every part of his warm skin, leaving trails of burning desire that were far too overwhelming for him to remain still.

When you paused at the waistband of his underwear, all Jake could do was breathe heavily, bite his lip, and watch you expectantly, his airways feeling like closing as you finally gave him the freedom he needed.

“You have such a beautiful and big cock, Jakey,” you hummed with a smirk, tongue wetting your lips as you felt your mouth watering. Jake groaned when you grabbed the base and started pumping it, painful slowly, smearing the leaking precum to lubricate. “I’d love to feel it down my throat.”

And without a warning or leaving him to properly think about your words, you gave a long, savoring lick of his veiny length just to suck at the tip, eliciting an immediate moan within a thrust forward searching for more contact.

You kept swiping your tongue across his throbbing hardened dick, always finishing with a pop on the very end, and when you felt like your spit and his arousal had coated it enough to ease your movements, you opened your mouth wide to take him whole, each centimeter causing Jake’s body to tremble and his voice to falter in between his groans.

When you had your nose bumping his lower stomach, you stood still, feeling Jake’s hands caressing your hair kindly. You had to use your everything to remember to breathe with your nose, especially when the view of Jake’s head being thrown on the pillow as he, himself, struggled to regulate his own breathing was unfolding right before your eyes.

Jake's body at that point was flaming hot, sweat dripping onto his forehead while his free hand clutched the sheet in a way to keep him sane, though your warm cavity embracing his dick, up and down, was leaving no room to maintain the silence.

“Fuck, baby–” His voice was hoarse, consumed by the indescribable sensation of the way you took him so pleasurably, so skillfully, so delightfully. “T–Taking me so well…”

He waved his hips just slightly with his hands still on your head, bucking against your throat and unintentionally making you gag. He didn’t feel sorry at all, not when you kept on your pace, barely giving a thought about it, even stirring a muffled moan out of you.

A choked whimper escaped Jake’s swollen lips as he felt your throat pressing against his sensitive tip again. It was bizarre how it seemed like you had been molded just for him, and only him. Jake wanted you in every possible way and was grateful because you seemed to want him just as desperately.

You increased the rhythm little by little with hollow cheeks, giving some more attention with your mouth to Jake’s reddened tip, tongue pressing at the slit every once and a while as your hands worked on the base and his balls.

There was a thin string of morality that held Jake in reality, preventing him from moaning your name – though he wanted so badly to –, but he couldn’t help the following whimpers and small cries that left his throat, the flutter on his stomach indicating he was getting closer.

You noticed it almost right away after so many moments together. Jake always started to whine in between his noises and his body would shake within each minimal stimulus, squirming like he was growing desperate. So you quickly repositioned yourself, supporting your weight with your arms on the bed and staying still, eyes blinking expectantly at Jake, waiting.

“Why did you stop–” Jake cut himself when he propped his head up from the pillow to look at you, another half-choked groan slipping out his parted lips when he caught the view. “Don’t tell me you want me to…”

You nodded, still waiting. Jake chuckled, in pure disbelief and desire, because you just had held yourself with your tongue poking out of your mouth, expecting him to simply throat-fuck you.

The way you were just… staring, patiently idling until Jake had your hair threaded through his slender fingers to finally move was an extremely alluring, sultry sight.

“You have no idea of how sexy you look right now,” he muttered under his breath, lowering your head while resting on his free elbow, because there was no way in hell he would lose the enticing scene you were just about to give him.

Jake didn’t know he would be able to endure much longer of that treatment you were giving him, his body extra sensitive as he bobbed your head up and down his cock; free using your body for his own pleasure sounded a lot out of his league and he took a mental note to repay later.

It took just seconds in that new position for you to have Jake rolling his eyes back with his mouth falling open, a quiet moan escaping as he speeded up his hands on your head before forcing you all the way down, pressing the tip of his throbbing cock on your throat while the thick ropes of his release filed straight down your throat.

You kept steady, motioning the swallowing movement to ride Jake through his high; it felt amazing to have him shaking in between random waves underneath you, soft whines coming out of his parted lips while the grip on your hair tightened.

As soon as he loosened the said grasp, you finally removed his now a bit softened cock out of your mouth, kissing it briefly before moving up to settle yourself on Jake’s chest.

“That was insane,” he whispered in between small pants, involving you with his arms. You cared little to nothing about his sweat sticking to you, knowing you both would have to take a quick bath before Jay got home.

“I know,” you replied back with a grin, looking at him and kissing his lips with passion, now free from your own fears’ restraints.

You used to avoid sharing too many intimate moments with Jake, the aftercare barely happening due to your constant excuses to run away, scared of falling deeper into something you couldn’t really grasp at. Not until that day.

It felt great to experience such loving touches without having to run away – light as sweet breeze fanning your face, your heart pounded in joy inside your chest, stomach fluttering with dancing butterflies.

You suddenly giggled, parting the kiss to glance at Jake with your adorable, playful eyes. He shot you back a tender gaze, waiting for your following words.

“You didn’t teach me about quantum,” you quirked an eyebrow and Jake immediately widened his eyes in panic.

“Oh, shit.”

You laughed at his dramatic reaction, at how he wanted to leave the bed to grab his clothes and try to use the last minutes of your tutoring session to teach you anything.

“Calm down, big boy,” you pulled him back. “Jay’s probably not even at home yet.”

As if you had summoned him, a knock on your door got you and Jake startled.

“Y/N?”

Both of your bodies tensed immediately. With a jolt, Jake was rushing over to get his clothes from the floor and wear them as quickly as possible while you frantically patted down your hair and smoothed the wrinkled fabric of your shirt, wiping away any hint of lingering fluids from the corner of your mouth.

“Coming!” You shouted, hurrying towards the door.

You cleared your throat, giving a final, stealthy glance over your shoulder to make sure Jake was, thankfully, no longer naked. When you opened the door, you greeted Jay with an overly bright, oh-so-forced smile, praying he would buy your attempt at casualness.

“Hi!”

“…Is everything alright? I heard some noises. It sounded like someone was in pain…” he replied, his brows knitting in concern.

“Uh…” Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened comically, your brain nearly visibly overheating, struggling to process an acceptable explanation.

You could closely feel Jake’s gaze burning on your back as the realization that Jay might have heard pretty much everything.

“It was me!” Jake interjected, cutting through the awkward silence with an impressive smoothness. “I, uh, stubbed my toe on Y/N’s bed frame when I was heading to the bathroom,” he added with a sheepish chuckle.

“Oh,” Jay replied, nodding with an air of understanding that sent a wave of relief through your tense shoulders, your smile naturally coming back to your face. “That makes sense.”

However, Jake was naive enough to notice how his best friend’s eyes dropped briefly, as if scanning you two, a faint, knowing look flashing across his face before he added with a small, friendly smile

“I’ll leave you two. Don’t wanna interrupt your… Studies.”

“Thanks!” You were quick to answer. Almost too quick. “We’re almost finished!” Your voice was stained enough to raise suspicions but you opted to ignore it.

As the door clicked shut, Jake exhaled with a low mutter, his fingers scratching through his hair. “I think he knows.”

“What!?” You exasperated, though trying to maintain your voice low. “There’s no way!”

Jake’s lips curled in a fond smile as he studied your adorable disbelief expression, hands finding comfort on your waist. For someone who just had partially sucked his soul out of his body through his cock, you were acting a bit almost innocent. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease you, his fingers drawing circles on your hips.

“Did you really think he bought that excuse?” he chuckled softly, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Of course he did!” You stomped your foot, crossing your arms.

Jake's hands slid from your waist just to gently unfold your arms, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you closer.

“I wish you were right, pretty girl, but I don’t think we’ve convinced him this time,” Jake said and sighed, your cheeks warming when he used a finger to tuck a strand of your messy hair on your ear. Your pout deepened and Jake giggled. “Who the hell moans when getting hurt, sweetheart?” He murmured, his voice soft, but his lips twitched in a playful smirk.

“I mean,” you started, flustered but trying to be reasonable, “there are probably people who–” Jake cut you off with a quick peck on your lips, startling you into silence as your protest dissolved into a surprised smile. The sweetness of the gesture caught you off guard, and a good warmth bloomed in your chest.

Definitely you would have to get used to that.

“I don’t think he bought it, pretty,” Jake eyes traced over your features, his smile lingering longer as he studied each part of it. He caressed your cheek, brushing your bottom lip before kissing you, a delicious shiver running down your spine as he did so. “But it’s fine, yeah? We’ll figure out something.”

The woman staring back at you in the mirror was expressing everything but “I’m casually going to study.” Sure, you had chosen a chill outfit, taking advantage of the sweet autumn breeze to wear one of your cozy sweaters, but you had left your legs bare, pairing it with a short skirt that framed your thighs perfectly. Perfectly enough to drive Jake insane.

It was amusing, thrilling even to see how he now reacted so openly, nearly pathetically to your provocations. Anytime you found yourselves in a safe space – mainly your room or the living room when you were absolutely sure Jay wasn’t home – Jake would unleash a stream of shameless obscenities adoring you, his hungry gaze devouring your body without a care in the world. It always earned a laugh from you before you both gave in to the heat of the moment, leading to a long, intense kiss.

Today, you didn’t know for certain if Jay was home, and frankly you didn’t want to find out either. If he was, he would probably see you and question where you were going, an endearing yet slightly overprotective habit of his. So, you walked through the house as quietly as possible, practically on tiptoes, hoping he had been held up at work or had gone out with his friends, as he usually did on Fridays.

The evening was just setting in, and Jake had mentioned earlier that Sunghoon and Heeseung were going out that night, which was the main reason you had felt comfortable enough to head over – freedom. And, admittedly, because your finals were starting next week, and you genuinely wanted to review a few things with him, even – and luckily – if that meant to have his breathy moans brushing against your ear as he fucked you dumb.

With your nervous eyes hovering the apartment in search of anything that resembled your brother’s presence, you finally reached the door, clicking it open with a relieved sigh.

However, fate had other plans for you.

“Where are you going?”

You startled and stopped immediately on your tracks, turning in your heels with an awkward smile to see Jay standing near the dinner room door frame with a confused expression. You had forgotten that he normally sat there while working on boring stuff on his phone sometimes, where he could definitely see you passing by.

“Um... To Jake's.” You quietly told. “Y’know, my exams start on Monday, so…”

Jay arched an eyebrow, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes roamed your body, his frown deepening within each passing second. Now you damned yourself for choosing such a short skirt.

With a brief nod after his silent inspection, he muttered. “Ok.”

You squinted, tilting your head, your expression shifting to something almost investigative as you struggled to read Jay's reaction – a calmness that felt almost unsettling, like the lull before the storm. You half-expected him to ask dozens of questions, and the fact he didn’t got you wavering, stomach twisting in a bitter anticipation.

“Okay…?” you echoed, waiting for… something more.

“Yeah, have fun.” He replied, shrugging slightly, hands being buried deep in his front pockets. “I mean, it’s physics. You can’t really have fun with that,” he teased, but at the same time, you felt weird, like there was something more to it.

“Um, right,” you nodded, forcing a tense, small smile. “Definitely can’t.”

The words lingered in the air between you two, the air dense as volcano smokes; a volcano you trusted wouldn't erupt soon. Or at least you deeply hoped for it.

After a quick goodbye, you headed to Jake’s house, having to deal with your stomach aching in nervousness after your brief interaction with Jay. You truly wished for your brother to be oblivious enough not to suspect anything more than he already had, nonetheless you and Jake weren’t being that cautious about your ongoing relationship.

On the other side, the said man was patiently waiting for your arrival. He had just declined Heeseung and Sunghoon’s invitation to hang out as they usually did on Fridays, trying to sound as casual as possible when explaining you would be there soon to finish your studies, since you had exams the next week.

Bullshit.

Jake was playing with fire. Taunting the devil. Flirting with danger. Whatever.

He had a vain certainty that Jay was suspecting your relationship with him, especially after the last encounter in your room where your brother’s eyes shifted briefly into something close to understanding beyond what he had seen.

Still, Jake called you over, praying for the best outcome instead of facing whatever consequences Jay would make him go through once he finds out he has been sleeping with his little sister.

Jake wasn’t an only child, however, having an older brother didn’t do much to help him in portraying being in your place.

Of course he would go insane if he had a little sister and she started to screw around with a friend of his, especially if she tried to hide it. But Jake didn’t plan to be the asshole type, to use your body for his own satisfaction and discard you once he got bored, never. He couldn’t even create a thought about leaving you at that point. His heart beat for you, and you only.

You became an important part of his life throughout the past weeks, months even. Since the moment you both allowed and agreed to the friends-with-benefits arrangement and it had evolved into something much deeper. Now, Jake found himself nurturing strongest feelings for you; it wasn’t only about the curves of your body, the smoothness of your skin, the longing to have you all over him, no.

Jake could easily say he had fallen in love with you.

It was crazy how you got him wrapped around his finger – both abstractly and practically –, as if it was such an easy task to do.

Life with you was way more interesting and enjoyable. Jake could spend hours fucking you, yes, definitely. But nothing compared to having your body snuggled against his, the shared warmth leaving no room for anxiety, tiredness or sorrow.

After a tough day, all Jake wanted was to be with you, cuddling while receiving your shower of kisses and hearing your giggles as you did so.

Jake fell deeply in love with every part of your personality: how determined you overall were and especially when it was about to win him over, how rational yet emotional you could be, how genuine and at the same time assertive you expressed yourself when talking about your hobbies.

Acts of service were your primary love language, and Jake loved how you put in effort to express affection in such a thoughtful way, since the shared routine made it extra hard to ease your side.

Taking care of his tired body after he stayed on top of you for quite a long time, giving him water and cleaning him whole. Bringing his favorite coffee whenever he stopped to pick you up from college.

When you both actually studied, you didn’t just listen to his explanations; you appreciated the effort he put into making even the most complex topics easy to understand. But more than that, you always did your best to make him feel comfortable. Whether it was adjusting the air conditioning when you saw him shivering or sweating, or quietly flipping the pages of the textbook when you noticed he had finished reading the last paragraph, your attention to detail never went unnoticed.

On a random day, Jake reached into his back pocket and found a small note you had quietly slipped there. It was a sweet declaration, simple but meaningful, words that reflected everything you didn’t always say out loud.

He knew that you worked best through actions, but the note reminded him of the affection that was always present in every little thing you did.

The sound of the doorbell ringing had Jake jumping off the couch, eager to greet you. As the door swung open, he gave you no chance to breathe, pulling you closer to lessen the longing of the warmth of your body, his lips crashing onto yours with a fervor that told you everything you needed to know for now.

“Hi– To you– Too!–” You tried to mumble against the kiss, giggling at how desperate Jake was behaving while stumbling on your legs as you entered the house, struggling to follow his messy lead.

“Want you.” He whispered as a vain explanation, guiding you both to his room without a care in the world.

With a blink of a second your half-closed eyes caught his deep frown, and your smile faltered while your body tensed straightaway. It triggered a strange feeling in your chest to perceive Jake’s urgency. You sensed something was off, weird even; you had just left home under Jay's analytical gaze, knowing you were hiding a huge secret from him, one he could be absurdly close to discovering – or maybe he already had. Now, with Jake’s unforeseen demeanor, if you forced yourself hard enough to connect the dots, you would say the man kissing you was holding some information back.

Or atleast holding something back.

“Wait, wait–” You tried to break the sloppy kiss by pushing Jake’s chest lightly, away enough to attempt to pry an explanation out of him without his mouth devouring yours. “What happened?”

Jake’s eyes roamed your concerned face briefly, a flicker of hesitation flashing before he smiled tenderly. His hands on your hips pressed the area ever so mildly, as though he fought a way to anchor him, as if he suddenly started fearing to lose your touch.

You didn’t buy his smile.

“Can’t a man miss his woman?”

His woman.

Though the manner of addressing you had your heart swirling in a sweet, thrilling carousel and your cheeks warming up, you couldn’t help the growing bittersweetness slowly and painfully swallowing your entire being.

“Yes, you can,” you didn’t hold back your half-smile before your eyes softened, nearly teetering a probing, piercing one as your hands softly caressed Jake’s face. “But I feel like there’s something more.”

Jake’s breath hitched, not due to how intense he was kissing you just seconds ago, but mostly because you were so fucking right.

Jake had a problem sleeping last night after you confirmed you would visit him the next day. Excitement? No. Fear.

Inviting you over to his place felt like a way of grounding the relationship, making it real. Alongside the once-conflicted feelings that had now settled comfortably into love, there was the weight of responsibility to bring you into his world, to make it real for everyone, make it real to his best friend. To your brother.

Jake wasn’t exactly afraid of his friendship with Jay falling apart. Though hurtful, he for sure could find ways to live through it. He did worry about you. To Jay, you were family – true family, tied by blood. If things went wrong, you wouldn’t have the luxury of cutting ties; you would be forced to navigate whatever fallout happened. Jake hoped fervently that it wouldn’t come to that, that you wouldn’t have to face a harsh reality just because you both liked – loved – each other.

Yet, a new sense of resolve was rising within him, making him believe that no matter the outcome, he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. Fighting for you felt easy. Making you happy was his ultimate goal.

Jake would cross oceans, move heaven and earth if that meant to stay with you.

So, you were right, because he was overthinking the possibility of telling Jay about your relationship. But before, there was going to be a relationship to begin with.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Jake caught on your body shifting and backing away a little, your breath stuttering, eyes widening, wavering before his proposal. He found himself panicking within a snap prior to your silence, cursing internally for letting his feelings take over and the question to escape his lips.

A bit longer. Just a bit longer he should have waited to understand where you stood emotionally when the subject was the two of you, because beyond considering your feelings, Jay was in the equation as well, difficulting the possibilities of the said relationship to blossom.

There was no coming back, though. The words flew out of his mouth, lingering in the air and weightening it as you quietly processed what you had just heard, wondering if you were tripping.

Jake gulped and immediately started to ramble, fumbling over his words with a voice that broke a bit once and a while as he did so, trying to cover up the angushing lack of noises between you both.

To some extent, Jake feared you would somehow hear his heart beating in panic.

“You don’t have to accept,” he began, his voice unsure, yet full of vulnerability. “I mean, we’re seeing each other almost everyday, and I really have feelings for you and maybe... Maybe you feel the same? For me?” He hesitated, puppy eyes wide and glistening with hope and desperation searching for any sign from you. He found nothing.

“L–Like, we’re having sex quite often and I like your company a lot,” he stammered. “I’d love to call you my girlfriend. I know there’s Jay and he’s your brother and he may not accept it, but I’m willing to–”

“Shut up.” You cut him off sharply by pressing a finger on his mouth.

A deep frown marked your forehead as you pondered thoughtfully, your gaze focusing on some random spot down the hallway behind Jake’s back, your mind racing.

Jake froze, eyes growing bigger at your reaction, his lips pursing together in a small, adorable pout that made your heart twist.

“Ok.”

You almost felt guilty for making him go through whatever was racing in his head; hearing his voice falter made your chest ache. At the same time, you couldn’t blame yourself, not when Jake had literally just asked you to be his girlfriend.

It was the question, the most important one of your life so far, the very one you had dreamed of hearing from him with his attractive Australian accent, nearly bordering a childish fantasy.

“Please, just say something…” Jake pleaded, voice cracking with anxiety. “Even if it’s a no…”

His words hit you like a wave crashing onto rocks. Your head snapped towards his direction, your wide eyes shooting a skeptical, confused glance, increasing his own confusion. Jake tilted his head to the side, just like a puppy, and then the realization hit.

“What?” You exclaimed, a hint of laughter tempting to burst out. “No! Babe, no…”

There was a clear layer of desperation on your voice now, as you shook your head frantically and sweetly placed countless kisses on Jake’s plump lips, cupping his face gently to keep him steady. He tried to ignore how his chest burned deliciously with the pet name.

“God, no, I’d never say no,” you muttered, his breath of relief fanning your face kindly, enough to ease your own heart. “I was just… Taken aback. I never expected my lifelong crush to ask me to be his girlfriend,” you giggled as you said, feeling a fluster creep up your neck towards your face.

Jake’s half-open eyes enjoyed the tenderness touch you showered him with, but then he suddenly dropped to something similar to confusion again, pulling back just slightly to look you in the eyes.

“Sorry, lifelong crush? Me?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and amusement.

You laughed again, the sound light and full of affection before you hid yourself on the crook of his perfumed neck; the scent easing your senses right away.

“Yes, you,” you mumbled, shyly. “You– You have been on my mind for quite a long time, Jaeyun,” to admit it out loud had you even more embarrassed, so you choose not to pinpoint precisely when. Not for now. Gladly, he didn’t push you as well. He would make the most of it later on.

“So…” He trailed off, pushing you off your hideout to offer you the most beaming expression you ever saw him having.

Jake was so, so gorgeous, with his wide, contagious smile, the soft curve at the ends framing it perfectly. Eyes sparkling with adoration, giving you the most tender and expectant look.

“Yes, Jake. I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, feigning a cool, relaxed demeanor you both knew wasn’t actually true, trying to hide the actual urge to jump like crazy behind a mischievous smirk. You arched an eyebrow, expectation growing slowly in your chest. “Where should I first take you as my girlfriend now?”

You giggled, biting your bottom lip with a naughty smile as you felt your heart palpitating harder; Jake would always be your crush after all. And to know you had him as your boyfriend only increased your arousal amidst the unfolding talk.

“How about your room, mhm?” A finger slowly traced his jawline, eyes dropping to something more intense. “Bet you have a lot of physics stuff in there, am I right?”

Jake laughed at your subtly mocking, yet naive words, especially because you both knew you weren’t wrong at all – and where that type of conversation would lead.

“Oh, you have no idea, darling,” he shot back, mirroring your tone as he pressed you back against his bedroom door, pushing it open with a deliberate motion. “Gotta show you how physics explains some… very special positions, yeah?”

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, since things with Jake usually escalated quickly once your lips met, but now he was hovering over you, his firm body pressing you into the bed, kissing you slowly and consumingly, as his fingers roamed over every centimeter of exposed skin.

You were well aware of how tempted Jake was by your legs – one of the reasons you had chosen that particular skirt – but you were uncertain if you would ever get used to how he grasped at you, his fingers digging in as though he needed to pull you closer, as if he desperately wanted to break the laws of physics and turn you both into one single body, occupying the same space.

Each time he rocked forward, grinding himself against you in search of any fleeting relief, waves of heat and excitement coursed through your veins straight to your core.

When a soft moan escaped, the noise vanished in between the heated touch and Jake lost composure. His mouth left yours only to travel lower, finding the sensitive line of your neck, lips pressing eagerly, his tongue tracing over the spots he knew would make you shiver, followed by a soft scrape of his teeth as he teased every weak point with deliberate care.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as your head fell back onto his pillow, granting him full access, your other hand tangling in the softness of his brown locks, gently tugging as his lips moved with purpose. But Jake’s impatience was hard to miss. He drifted down to your jawline, then lower, hands trying to slip beneath your sweater in an attempt to feel more of you.

“No,” you tugged his head back by his hair. “No, no, no. Listen, I get you’re excited and believe me, I am too, but–” You tried to speak between the sloppy kisses Jake continued planting along your jaw, a clear attempt to quiet you. “We have to study.”

“Please,” he breathed, a whine escaping him, not giving a care about how tight you gripped his strands, lowering himself, nuzzling his nose against the fabric of your sweater. “Please, I need you. I need to feel you.”

“We have to study.” You echoed what you just said and somehow it seemed to be rather to bring you back from the blissful lust than to take Jake away from it.

“Please,” with a plea, Jake locked his eyes onto yours, his voice thick with desperation.

You swallowed nothing as you saw deep, raw, intense desire once you met his gaze.

Jake had his two beautiful orbs oozing with craving, with need. His jaw was clenched, his features somewhat sharper under the dim light of his room. The sight nearly made you moan aloud, perhaps longing to have Jake between your legs more than him himself.

The blaze in your stomach increased as he leaned down slowly, fierce eyes still glazed onto yours, little by little decreasing the distance between his face and your still covered cunt, teasing to get under your skirt.

You knew exactly what Jake wanted. He had hinted at it so many times it was almost impossible not to relent. And yet, despite the power he somehow had over your decisions in moments like these, sending you easily into a haze of desire, you were a woman of your word.

“No,” you murmured, reluctantly pushing his head away and sitting up. “Do you remember our deal?”

Jake's gaze flickered, torn between your tempting thighs with the pretty skirt framing them perfectly and the inflexible expression on your face, the frustration evident. God, he could already picture himself getting lost in between your legs, your thighs squishing his head because he was pleasuring you so good. And preferably wearing the exact same skirt you wore.

“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes like a scolded child. “Let’s study so you can ace that fucking exam.”

You bit back a grin as you read Jake’s pouty face, reaching over to grab the collar of his white shirt and pull his body onto yours one last time, starting a slow, savoring kiss. You sucked his bottom lip within a quiet smack sound as you drew back.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,” you muttered with a cheeky smile, eliciting a chuckle from Jake.

Your eyes tracked the motion of his tongue sweeping across his swollen, reddened lips, stealing any lingering remnant of your taste before standing on his foot.

“You’re trouble,” he said while offering you a hand. “And I like that.”

When he headed you over his desk, you smirked, ignoring the slap he gifted your ass with before sitting.

“So, sound waves, huh?” you purred, fingers tracing over the open page before looking up at him with a playful glint. “I’m curious how you’d explain it to me.”

Jake would always follow the same flow. He would start with you beside him, explaining the concepts from the book in simple terms, and you would initially go along, absorbing the material through the practical examples Jake offered so effortlessly.

But then your attention would start to drift – to the way his lips moved, the soft, deep resonance of his voice that seemed to echo through your entire body, the way his slender fingers moved as he gestured with every point he made... And soon, Jake would begin to lose his composure, deciding to take a far more hands-on approach to his “teaching.”

After a call from Jay asking what was taking so long for you to go home – an unusual demeanor that got goosebumps spreading over your skin – and a lame excuse that you were deeply focused on reviewing the materials for your exam, you ended up back on Jake’s bed, on all fours with his hardened, throbbing dick pounding fast into you.

“The louder you scream,” Jake thrusted deep, hitting your g-spot tirelessly, making you cry his name out just like he was saying. “The greater the amplitude of the sound waves. It carries more e–energy.”

“Fuck, Jake,” you rolled your eyes, though no one could actually see you doing that.

Your hands clutched the colorful sheets underneath you as a way to keep yourself sane, to maintain your conscience stable and grounded; you doubted you wouldn’t even remember your name, nonetheless. It was hard to think of anything else other than Jake’s name being chanted by your tired throat, Jake’s dick buried deep into you, Jake’s hands grasping your hips to keep you still, Jake’s desperate moans, searching for his release. Jake was everywhere.

“So– deep–” You whined, your walls clenching around his length, your dripping juices coating precisely each part of it.

“Yeah, babe?” Jake’s voice dropped an octave, squeezing your hips hard enough to leave marks. The fleeting thought made him groan, because it sounded like you were his propriety. “Like my cock deep into your pussy, mhm?”

“Fucking hell, yes,” you faltered on your arms, dropping almost completely on the bed if wasn’t for Jake’s steady grip on your waist.

You could feel his dick twitching inside your cunt, the realization he was getting close sparking up in between the haze bliss you were going through, lost in pure, raw desire. Jake was fucking you so good.

“So fucking perfect,” Jake managed to say with trembling voice and between groans before his rhythm grew frantic, uneven, irregular. “My good girl, isn’t that right?”

You agreed within a mumble, not able to form proper words, eliciting a chuckle from Jake.

“I want your cum,” you said muffled, somehow finding strength to force your body back and meet Jake’s thrusts. “I want it so bad, Jakey–”

After testing words, dirty talks, movements, even decisions when sharing those moments with Jake, you managed to select a few things you could do to drive him insane, near the edge almost instantly. So it took just a few pumps for you to be filled with Jake’s warm liquid, his orgasm hitting strong as he threw his head back, choking in between a long, delicious moan. He held you still, his dick deep into you as his body shuddered, hips stuttering while he enjoyed his overwhelming pleasure.

With a hiss Jake released you from his grip, removing his length slowly, eliciting a discontent whine from you since not only you didn’t cum, but also felt the immediate lack of fulfillment and the feeling of his seed dripping down your legs. His hooded eyes were blurry, but he caught a brief view of it together with your slightly bruised skin before dropping his exhausted body onto the bed. Hot.

You quietly watched as he laid near you, how his chest rose and fell heavily, the known silver necklace moving together with it; you took the opportunity to come back to yourself, regulating your own breathing and regaining control of your body – deep down you knew Jake was just getting ready to give you your own climax. However, a mischievous plan popped into your mind and you couldn’t let it slide so easily, not when you finally had the chance of hearing him screaming your name without fearing your brother.

“Lemme ride you,” you muttered suddenly and moved to position yourself on top of Jake, hands finding support on his torso, straddling with a knee on each side of his body.

“Babe, wait a bit–” He said within a frown, but not really doing anything to stop you; he just rested his palms on your waist, watching you grab his slightly softened shaft to align on his lower stomach. “Doll, please–” When you wiggled your hips to fit your wet, warm folds in his cock and started to deliberately grind, he nearly screamed. “Please, stop–”

Your eyes darted over his contorted face, not halting your movements as you did so, a soft moan leaving your mouth.

Such a lustful sight. Jake had his beautiful and swollen lips parted, silent, whispered pleas escaping it as his brows furrowed deeper; eyes closed tightly, cheeks flustered and breaths coming out ragged, mixed with airy moans that only intensified as you started to rut back and forth faster.

“Please, babe, ‘m sensitive–”

Jake felt his head spinning, quite literally as he squirmed and abstractly, nonsense words cutting through the thick air, because, God, it felt so strangely good to be overstimulated by you.

“Do you want me to really stop, Jakey?” You asked sweetly, yet a bit concerned that he was actually not enjoying it as you leaned forward to suck the skin of his sensitive neck.

He moaned. Like, really moaned and shook his head frantically.

“Mhm, fuck–” You lifted your body again just in time to catch his eyes rolling and fluttering close. “D–Don’t you dare to, fuck, to stop–”

You kept on rolling your hips with a grin dancing on your lips. Jake’s sensitive tip touched your clit even so often, provoking your body to spasm a little. You aimed to get him hard again, so you could finally fuck yourself and achieve your orgasm, and because of the earlier interaction of your bodies you weren’t that far from coming.

Jake opened his eyes lazily, taking in the view of your exposed chest that quickly was being abused by his big hands, pinching your hardened nipples and kneading the soft flesh of them. You threw your head back, mouth falling open with the feeling of Jake touching almost everywhere.

At some point, Jake’s length was completely stiff beneath you and you took no time to position it in your pulsing hole, sinking in one go that had you and Jake throwing heads back with loud moans.

Your breath was irregular when you propped your hands on each side of Jake’s face, starting to bounce in an unwavering pace that, together with the way you locked eyes with Jake, fierce and full of determination to finish, got him moaning within a smirk, proudly.

“Look at you,” Jake cooed at you, his voice hoarse, hands raising to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear to give him the full view of your pleasant contorted face.

“Yes, that's it,” he encouraged, sliding his fingers down your sides, squeezing it mildly; his lips stretching into a bigger smirk when you started to whimper and clench around his length. “Ride it, baby. Use me to get yourself off.”

And so you did, speeding up your rhythm as you chased desperately for your own release and consequently led Jake towards his – he was extra reactive due to the overstimulation, so at that point he was practically holding himself back not to cum again, craving to keep on feeling your tight walls squeezing his dick and eventually you creaming it.

Jake was big, hard and deliciously leaking inside you, his tip reaching your g-spot with ease and constancy, enough to make you start to scream as your moans grew louder. When his slender fingers found their place on your clit, rubbing fast circles to help you out, you couldn’t help but close your eyes with your mouth agape, a blender of whimpers and whines melodically falling from your lips as your arms began to fail to hold you in that position, making you slightly falter forward.

“J–Jake– ugh, fuck, so fucking good–” You stammered amidst cries of pleasure, feeling the coil in your low stomach teasing a strong build up.

At the same time your thighs began to burn, frustration emerging together with your desperation to cum, your own body betraying your release as you wavered the pace. Within seconds Jake took notice of how exhausted you were starting to act, and in no world he would let his girl down, so to maintain the same posture he propped his legs up, feet planted on his bed as he whispered for you to stop for a second.

“Just… Trust me,” he mumbled after seeing your confused face while letting go of your sensitive bundle of nerves from his skilled fingers to grab your ass, full hands in each cheek, holding you still as he started to push himself upwards.

You rolled your eyes quite instantly, letting your body fall onto his, your face finding its place on the curve of his pretty neck, where you started to pant and messily kiss in between your heavy breaths. Jake was leading the entire moves, pushing you down and pulling him up, heavenly deep.

Each desperate, frantic, urgent thrust was leading you closer to your climax; you could sense it was going to be a strong one, and your whiny moans gave it away for Jake, who found himself teetering the edge as well.

“Close– ‘m close– So close–” He cried, feeling his dick leaking precum already.

With a snap you let it go completely, your body shaking in uneven spasms as your juices fully coated Jake’s length within a long, striking moan. His own release followed yours, since your clenching cunt and the lewd wet noises as he rode you through your high left no room for any sanity or self-control.

Jake’s big hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, shoving his cum inside you and the rhythm slowly faltered, hips stuttering as the last waves of pleasure coursed through both of you.

The room suddenly shrank as you both started to deliberately drift away from the blissful raze of raw arousal, nearly gasping for air as you did so.

“Don’t pull out,” your words sounded more slurred than you expected, but the sweet silence in the air helped Jake to understand you, still experiencing the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“Holy.”

It was everything he managed to say before the quietness took over again. You felt Jake caressing your bare back, slowly and tenderly, filled with an affection you wanted to receive only from him, fluttering the butterflies in your belly.

Eventually he was stroking your hair and hugging you close, his length still inside of you, prolonging the amazing sensation of being full. And somehow, you fell in love even harder.

“So that’s what freedom tastes like?” You heard Jake mumbling against your ear after a while, his honeyed voice cutting through the air kindly, and a tired laugh escaped your lips.

You couldn’t help the small sting in your heart as you heard the question, afterall, none of those escaping and hiding moments would be happening if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend. You wanted to be able to love Jake openly. And hoped he could love you back just as much.

“Yeah…” You whispered within a broken smile that Jake didn’t catch.

“I may grow addicted to it.”

Jake wanted you to stay for the night, caring little to nothing about whatever could happen if Sunghoon and Heeseung found out. But you weren’t worried about them that much, you could easily coax your way out of it.

You were frightened of your brother.

So after a soothing warm shower to calm your nerves and with Jake reassuring you that the excuse you had created was perfectly convincing, you headed back, praying for Jay to be sleeping already or, even better: not at home.

You moved as quietly as possible, trying not to make a sound while unlocking the door, like a teenager sneaking in after breaking curfew, heart racing in anticipation of being caught.

It was so weird to have that feeling, to hide things from your brother, the one you trusted blindly because he would never judge you. Still, the situation was fragile, unusual. It was a new territory where if you pushed too far, the consequences could be far worse than you were prepared to handle.

Jake somehow eased your stirring anxiety with his sweet words and calming voice when he embraced you in a last comforting hug before you left.

“He would never be mad at you, darling.”

With Jake’s voice whispering tenderly in your head like a mantra, you finally opened the front door, stepping into the darkness of your apartment.

A deep sigh of relief escaped as you closed the door behind you, careful not to make a sound, the faint click of the lock triggering a shiver that quickly vanished as you realized you might be alone. You could practically feel how your tensed shoulders loosed as you started to casually slip off your boots.

“So, how was it with Jake?”

You froze in place, back turned to where the voice came from.

Jay.

The lights suddenly turned on, but you had no courage to turn and face your brother, especially after feeling the burning sensation on your back that told you he was staring unwaveringly. The question hung in the air, thick and tense, as much as your body began to feel right after. His voice wasn’t accusing, but it still carried an underlying heavy weight you feared to understand completely.

"It was fine," you forced out, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out thin, shaky. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue as you unfortunately became aware it wasn’t enough to fool him. Not anymore. “W–We studied sound waves and… Watched a documentary. About it. He ordered food too… It was… Cool.”

Your sentences were barely coercive. Unstable, insecure, because your mind was no longer working properly. Telling blatant lies was something you never imagined yourself doing to Jay, and you certainly couldn’t consider yourself good at it at all.

Still, you pushed through, trying your hardest to sound convincing, desperately hoping to make it through the day. Your body was screaming for a proper rest, drained from the adrenaline and energy spent earlier that Jay was oblivious so far.

Maybe the next day would be easier – maybe confronting Jay wouldn’t feel so impossible.

“Yeah?” Jay muttered and you finally turned on your heels to look at him.

He was leaning on the wall, smiling – but not a very pleasant smile. He had his hands shoved inside his trousers’ pockets, jaw clenched, eyes fierce, cutting through you as if he read your deepest secrets. You gulped nervously, hands starting to tremble; you could feel your heart pounding in your eardrums.

“Did he teach you about sound waves while you screamed his fucking name?”

Your instant reaction was to almost mutter a quiet and confused “how did you know?”, your face dropping as the panic started to crawl in your skin. You just got caught and you had nowhere to run.

“Did he tell you two were alone, Y/N?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach immediately as he questioned and started to walk. Each step Jay took towards you felt like a heavy drumbeat, as if time had slowed down painfully, weightening the atmosphere absurdly, grounding you way too much; it felt as though heavy shackles with iron balls were bound to each of your feet, holding you in a way that left you suffocated and powerless. Excruciatingly overwhelming.

“Because you probably were.” He stopped in front of you, his nostrils moving within each ragged breath. You could picture the haze of pure anger his mind got lost through his fierce eyes, eyes that never left yours. “During the first hour.” He added between gritted teeth and you shivered, your eyes widening as you took a step back, fearing falling because as realization hit, you practically felt the ground being pulled from beneath your feet.

There was no way Jake had lied to you, right? Leading you into a trap just to ruin your relationship with your brother. Why would he do that? You couldn't believe it, because that wasn’t the Jake you knew – it wasn’t the Jake who had just asked you to be his girlfriend with eyes shining with passion before giving you one of the most heartfelt kisses you had ever experienced. Jake wouldn’t do that.

How did your brother find out, then?

Jay shook his head slightly, his expression hardening further before a bitter, dry laugh escaping his pursed lips. He saw the look of disbelief in your eyes, the shock written all over your face and he read it precisely.

"No, Jake didn’t tell me,” he explained briefly to your racing thoughts. “He just didn’t know Sunghoon would be home earlier than expected."

Jay, though clearly upset, spoke with an edge of reassurance. His voice was low, barely concealing the tension and irritation simmering beneath it, still, worried about you.

A cold wave sprang in your chest as the realization struck like a bolt of lightning, your body quivering with fear and your wide, glistening eyes teasing to collapse in tears. You felt exposed. Vulnerable. Your secret was no longer a secret, and you instantly cursed yourself for holding it secretly to begin with.

Stupid, dumb, idiot.

Jay took a deep breath and you, another step back, trying to run away from the radiating rage coming out of his frightening presence. Jay was bigger and taller than you, and right at that moment, you felt even smaller.

“Do you have any idea of what it's like to find out that my little sister is screwing around with my best friend? And worse – hiding it from me?”

Jay didn’t yell, in fact his voice was dropping an octave, low as possible, and was more than enough to leave you on the verge of crying, your eyes stung, averting his angry ones. You lowered your head.

“I'm sorry, Jay, I–”

“Wasn't thinking correctly? Didn't think I'd find out? Cut off with your lame excuses, Y/N.”

It was the first time Jay talked to you with such a cold tone, sharp as a knife, yet quiet. Something about the fact that he was mad, and still had a lowkey calm voice triggered the worst on you.

“You lied to me, Y/N. Lied.” His voice faltered, but only for a moment. The raw emotion in his words was enough to pierce through the façade he had been trying to maintain, his eyes glimmering with tears, bringing the worst from your own feelings towards the situation.

Your breath hitched, the sting of betrayal and guilt washing over you. Unfortunately though, Jay wasn’t finished.

“We promised not to lie to each other, Y/N. And you broke that promise.” His eyes burned into you, like they were seeing right through the walls you had built to shield yourself, the same barriers Jay once helped you to create, to feel stronger before the ones who tried to destroy your dreams. To destroy you.

For seconds, you saw your parents on Jay. For a brief moment, you pictured your younger self being scolded for your small mistakes and decisions, never being good enough. For the slightest millisecond, you hated your brother.

“Go to your room.”

You lifted your confused eyes only to see Jay cleaning his tears with the back of his hand.

“Are you grounding me?” You asked quietly, but a hint of angriness stirred to snap out.

Jay chuckled again, humorless. “No,” he gave you a last look with a mild head shake. “I just can’t see you now,” his sincerity was like a slap on your face. And you had no doubt that receiving one would hurt way less. “And you’re old enough to know you’ve fucked things up big time.”

Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.

Was it worth it?

part 2

#jake x reader #sim jake x reader #jake sim x reader #jake smut #jake fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #heegyukeluv works

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himewonu · 18 days ago

Text

STRAWBERRY SCENTED STRINGS ౨ৎ kim mingyu

౨ৎ mingyu loves sweets. what wasn’t sweet, though, was the cellist from his rival band. your aloof and irascible attitude toward his band always left them in a bad mood. somehow, you and mingyu can only get along through your love for desserts.

starring bassist! mingyu x cellist! f reader

word count 16k (thanks 4 betareading soph and alya >_<) | playlist

genre fluff, humour, rivals to lovers (?), band au, suggestive

contains profanities, food, alcohol, petnames, mentions of sex, they makeout once (not really), idk anything abt the bass or cello or being a professional musician, ambiguous ending

from rhin, this was heavily inspired by mingyu shredding the guitar during their clap performance. i’ve been itching to release this since dec 2023 but i have been inconsistent with writing it so i’m leaving it halfway finished!!

please support by reblogging and feedbacks ♡

TRACK_001_SWANSONG

Just as your quartet is finishing the first movement of the piece, you hear a soft guitar riff lingering from the practice room next to yours. It interrupts the practice and causes someone to make a mistake. Given how painfully obvious a cello is compared to any other instrument in the violin family, it was unquestionably yours. They began to glance at each other until they finally turned to face you, who was attempting to reprise the bar—this time, correctly.

Swearing under your breath, you carefully set down your cello, trying not to let your rage get the better of you and throw the instrument across the room. You left the practice room, slamming the door behind you. The other musicians in the corridor noticed your little outburst and walked away when you gave them a stern look.

If there was one thing you hated more than making mistakes, it would be rock music. Whether it was the genre or the people indulging in it, it was the bane of your existence. The hardcore melody and the blaring noise the instruments made, especially when they were all playing at once, were too much for your ears to handle. The genre is what you would call offensive to you.

The people who participated in that genre weren’t any better. The majority of rock bands you’ve encountered were merely conceited and brash rebels. The thought of having your worlds clash was like another war, and you might prefer to switch back to the viola than subject yourself to those monstrous pieces of work.

Since rock bands make up the majority of the bands playing at the festival, your quartet is starting to doubt their ability to perform well. You sharing a stage with them was already hell enough. In fact, you should be intimidating to them rather than afraid of them. They serve only as a distraction from the masterpiece that your quartet is about to unveil.

Half applauded for your quartet's performance, but their enthusiasm wasn’t meeting your expectations. Your quartet played flawlessly with no delay or off-key parts that could show a lack of praise from the audience. They mostly consisted of teenagers who were cheering for rock bands and probably new to your performance, hence why the crowd felt muted. Of course, they only like bands.

When the emcee introduced the following band as you were leaving the stage, the audience was cheering far louder and more enthusiastically than they had for your group even before they had taken the stage. Their height blocked your view as they made their way to the stage, making you promptly move aside since you were in the way.

Cherry Bass. The audience appeared to really enjoy them; some were yelling nonstop, which makes them seem popular. They stood out from the majority of bands in the area for a few reasons. Their concept suited their name—the outfits and height were pointed out.

They are somewhat alike and both formal and informal. Their performance is meticulous, and they remain still rather than circling the stage. Not only are their lyrics poetic, but their music is also non-aggressive and loud. Rather than being a typical song about heartbreak, it's more about friendship and fun.

It’s no wonder the audience likes them.

The way their cherry red leather outfits complemented their physical structure, combined with the lack of awkwardness when staying still and somehow nonchalantly engaging with the audience. Whenever they play their instrument, they give off a cool, edgy vibe and appear more like a bunch of friends who are simply excited to perform in front of an audience than like they are trying to prove they're the greatest band in the world. Despite their lack of professionalism, they give off the impression of having some band experience.

Still, they’re a distraction.

The realization finally dawned on you as the hot air of summer was draining out your energy and killing your ego. "We should go." You uttered. Your group trailed behind you as you made your way out of the alluring scenery before your pride could die.

TRACK_002_ESPRESSO

Mingyu doubts his place in the band. There are some songs where people can barely hear the bass in their extended plays, and he sometimes can’t even hear himself during practices when his bandmates are loud. Whenever he notices that he made a mistake, he doesn’t bother redoing that bar since it’s so quiet that not even the others can hear it.

He mainly relies on the feeling of friction between his fingers and the strings to play along.

During practice, a certain sound caught his attention that was definitely not his bass or any other instrument. Its subtle taps or thuds resonate in his ears. It’s not in the room, and it sounds like it's coming from outside. As they wrap up their practice, Mingyu decides to investigate as he puts his bass down and strolls towards the door. Slowly opening it, he peeks his head out to meet with the sight of movers holding boxes. They drop them inside the room in front of theirs.

“We have new neighbours,” he announces to his bandmates.

“And they’re most likely gonna move out. Everyone hates using that practice room since we’re loud,” Vernon mocks, pulling out the cable from his guitar.

Just like every other neighbour they had, everyone kept moving out due to their infamous noise. They all tried to get them kicked out, but it was impossible since the landlord of Choi’s Music Store and Apartments for Musicians was their leader’s dad. Since then, all he could do was talk his way out of not mentioning that room.

The landlord mentioned how he didn’t recommend renting your room, as the room in front of yours was going to be noisy. But that didn’t stop your quartet from using it; it doubles as a practice room and an apartment, and you all needed to move out of your brother’s basement as a practice room. The only con is that it's downtown.

This was one of those times when your ensemble was willing to be nice to rock bands—except you. You refused to cooperate with them since your excuse was that you didn’t want to see their faces.

Ryuwon had to go build your bed frames and told you to bake muffins for your neighbours, hence why the three of you had to be nice.

“She better be joking when she wants us to bake for them,” you scowled.

“Let’s just do it in her favour. After all, we should let them know they have new neighbours,” the violinist proposed. “I don’t want to deliver, though.”

“Not it,” Yoonhee utters, quickly touching her nose as the other does the same, leaving you with the responsibility.

“What the hell! I didn’t even agree to this!” You grumble as you all head to the kitchen.

Meeting them was a questionable encounter. You urged them that you really didn’t want to give them the muffins, but they were insisting on it to the point where they pushed you out of the apartment, giving you the container of muffins. You were banging on the door, yelling at them to let you in. They didn’t answer, and you just so happened to give in, asking them what you should even say. Their response to you was to just come up with something from the top of your head.

You were finally facing their door, knocking rapidly until someone opened the door. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of you holding muffins in your hands. His tall figure was practically towering over you, making him seem intimidating. But the only intimidating thing between you was your mad expression and how you looked like you didn’t want to be there.

“Hi, not sure if you know, but we’re your new neighbours,” you greet, still retaining the muffins in his face.

He scratches his head. “Uhh, what are the muffins for?”

You didn’t reply right away, as you were trying to come up with an answer. "Think of it more as an advance apology. We practice loudly, so hopefully you and your band can handle that," you sarcastically remark.

He scoffs as he takes the container. "Oh, we’ll be much louder than you,” he brags before shutting the door on you.

You wonder why you would even agree to live next door to a rock band. But he looked awfully familiar to you. How he held onto his bass and the way he was towering over you. The band was undoubtedly one you have seen before, even though the landlord didn’t mention their name.

He takes the lid off and gazes at the freshly baked muffins. “What’s that?” Vernon proceeds to ask Mingyu. “Not for you!” he retaliates. Vernon rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the music sheet, while Mingyu pulls out a muffin and begins to bite into it. He hums in pleasure.

Strawberry banana—his favourite.

Your quartet decided to establish a rivalry with the band next door. It all began two days after you moved in, at five in the morning, when they practiced, more specifically, by clashing their instruments together to aggravate you four.

The following day, you practiced more loudly than you usually would, and you practiced for hours on end until they started banging on your door to beg you to stop. That day, they found it amusing since you were their opposing genre, especially being that quartet they saw at the summer music festival.

Since then, the eight of you have always found a way to piss each other off—everywhere, every day, and every time.

Everyone in your quartet likes to disappear off to their own places when the group isn't practicing, leaving you alone. You’d either be at work or out in public, because there’s absolutely nothing you could possibly do at home except practice, write songs, or bake. You want to ensure that your day is peaceful and that you’re not being disturbed during your alone time. Whenever you see someone from that band approaching you, you usually scare them off with your words, or if you don’t feel like losing your voice, you just give them a death glare.

For someone who’s so graceful, you sure can be frightening.

“Why are you so sour?” A voice utters before you. Lifting your gaze from your journal, you see the man you gave muffins to. You were at a nearby cafe, quietly penning some lyrics for yourself. He puts his coffee down on the table and sits in front of you, attempting to strike up a conversation.

His words cause you to furrow your brows before you snap back. “Excuse me? I didn’t even ask you to sit with me!”

“You sure look like you need someone to sit with,” he mumbles against the rim of his coffee cup.

"Maybe you can't tell, but everyone here knows that I prefer to be by myself, except for you and your stupid ass!" He doesn’t leave; rather, he stays in his seat, still drinking the coffee. You ignore the fact that he isn’t going to leave you alone and glance down at your journal once more. You continue to write a line on the current song you’re working on.

He sets his coffee back on the table and leans in so that his face is just inches from yours. You try to pay attention to the burning sensation that’s growing on your cheeks from the proximity. You’re still writing and not even trying to look at him. He pulls his arm out and reaches in to quickly grab your journal.

“What’s even in here?” He questions, holding it with both hands as he looks at the page of lyrics. “Flash Forward,” he mutters as he reads the title of the song. Before he can take another look, you snatch it back from him and stuff it into your bag. “That’s none of your business,” you retort as you get up from your seat and walk away.

There was nobody home when you returned to the apartment. You run to your bedroom and lie on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. The light was shining on your eyes, making you get up and realize that you still haven’t finished writing the song. You grab your journal out of your bag and open it to the unfinished page.

The moment the tip of your pencil touches the paper, your mind goes blank. Nothing comes to mind for the next few lines. All you can think about is what the man from earlier said about you.

“Sour? What does he know about being sour? I’m anything but sour!” You quietly complain to yourself.

You were writing down exactly what you had said before you even realized it. After continuing to stare at the words, it finally dawned on you. You turned the page to an empty space and began to write a heading.

‘Sour Grapes’

Other than writing lyrics, you like to bake in your free time. You would have been a baker without a doubt if you had not been a musician. Since you were a child, you have always enjoyed baking. Always trying out how to bake different kinds of pastries and other desserts. Your family never brought desserts home, except for birthday cakes, and no one really taught you how.

All you remember is how it all started, when your brother was watching a food channel and the show that was airing was about young bakers. It was kind of annoying to watch them fail at their recipes so often. You recalled remarking that even you, a seven-year-old, could accomplish it because it was so simple. Joshua wanted you to give it a try, but he said it was not easy.

For one thing, he was a little stupid to encourage his younger sister to go into the kitchen and possibly set the house on fire. Either way, you proved him wrong in a way. You followed a recipe that you remembered seeing on the screen. You weren’t precise with the measurements since you eyeballed it. However, the outcomes were better than shown on the show. Joshua seemed to like it and mentioned that you should try baking when you’re much older.

That's how your interest in baking began. You don’t really bake for yourself. Usually, you just serve your friends or family whatever dessert you make. Their constant approval encouraged you to bake more and more.

Here you are, by yourself, in the kitchen. Since it's less disruptive and you get to surprise them when they get home, you actually prefer to bake when no one else is home. On days like these in September, people would be craving autumn-related baked goods. Unlike them, you’ve been craving anything with strawberries lately, and this was going to be one of those times where you bake for yourself.

Baking is the only hobby you have where you don’t have to stress. It’s funny because baking requires you to be meticulous at every step. As long as you have the basics, you just grab everything from the refrigerator and cabinets and toss it all together.

Loaded with all the essentials and a pack of fresh strawberries on the counter, you took your phone out and looked up strawberry dessert recipes. The most common pastry to ever exist, Strawberry Shortcake, appears first, and surprisingly, you’ve never tried to make one.

Doing it on the first try was nothing. You could probably open a bakery knowing how good you are, because it was undoubtedly one of the easiest desserts you’ve ever made. It smells delicious, and by looking at it, it was pleasing.

Since you haven’t shared anything on social media in months, this was your chance to showcase your accomplishments. The majority of your pages are composed of scenery, which makes them visually appealing.

As you opened the camera app, you noticed how the kitchen in the background was ugly to look at. You looked around the apartment for a spot, but nothing seemed to fit the mood. The sky was still blue, and all of a sudden, you recalled that the rooftop had a patio. You put your phone in your pocket and picked up the plate with the cake on it.

You ran into a familiar face as soon as you opened the door and stepped outside, and it was not just your eyes that met him. It just so happens that his bass pickups are now covered in whipped cream, and your strawberry shortcake was lying on the ground when you dropped it. You’re so glad the plate was plastic, because if it were ceramic and shattered, it would’ve made this situation really painful.

Your gaze soon shifted to the guitar, which was now drenched in whipped cream. Your initial reaction, if you were looking at a guitar, was probably to yell at him for running into you. Though slightly different, this scenario is exactly like the one you had in mind.

You would’ve definitely scared him away if his bass had not gotten in the way. If he wasn’t wearing that same black t-shirt he always wears, again, you would’ve scared him off. The scenario can go in a million different directions, but they all come to the same conclusion—you get upset at him. So why is it that pity comes out of your mouth?

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You blurted as you tried wiping off the mess on his bass. Other than opening his eyes wide and staring at you, he remains motionless. He wasn’t sure if he should be angry or sorry too, but he was in full panic mode.

“I-It’s fine!” He huffed, backing up to get your hands away from him. He returned to his apartment, leaving you by yourself in the hallway. You stood there, looking at the mess on the floor and realizing that you just pitied a bassist.

TRACK_003_RUNAWAYBABY

“Enjoy!” You exclaim as you hand a cup of Americano to the customer before they leave. As usual, your quartet ran off. Fortunately, you were working a shift at your part-time job, so you wouldn’t be by yourself this time. Although you don’t see the band on your shift, you always end the day annoyed because of how aggravating your co-workers are.

Being a barista isn’t entirely bad, but you wish you had another music-related job. After college, you thought of pursuing songwriting as a side job, but no agency would hire you, and they weren’t entirely convinced by a music degree either. So you stuck with being a musician with your friends and performing for fancy birthday parties and whatnot. It doesn’t really work in your favour since you can’t entirely write songs for a genre that doesn’t need lyrics, but at least you get to flex that you were the only one out of the four who went to college for music.

Since the customer was the last in line, you turned away when they departed. After hastily adjusting your apron, you turned to face the tall man you have always seen. “Oh, fuck, not you again,” you mutter. You raise an eyebrow before uttering in a sulky tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Good question. What are you doing here?” He retaliates.

“It’s called a job, something I’d doubt you would have.”

He scoffs. “I have a job, and it’s better than your miserable coffee-making job.” You don’t fight back since he’s right; it is miserable, and you would do anything to get you out of there. The only good part is that it pays better than other part-time jobs you worked for, and you work once a week.

“Are you here to waste my time, or are you actually going to order something?” You provoke as you cross your arms and rest them on the counter.

“Got anything cold?”

You tilt your head up, indicating the menu on the screen above you. “Refreshers, iced tea, smoothies, cold brew coffee—we have a ton,” you add. He looks up at the menu, contemplating the choices to pick from.

To be honest, he never came here for a drink to begin with. He found it amusing that you were behind the counter wearing an apron. He entered merely to cause you trouble, particularly in light of the incident; he’ll make sure that this isn’t the last time you see him. An arrogant expression appeared on his face as one of the menu's distinctive images highlighted a specialty.

“I’ll have a medium strawberry refresher, pretty girl,” he decides, putting a lot of emphasis on the fruit and making your eye twitch as the pet name rolls off his tongue. When you nod and inquire if he needs anything more, he simply shakes his head and makes the payment. Making his drink was fairly simple; all you had to do was fill a cup with ice, then add ginger ale and strawberry syrup, and finally garnish with a fresh strawberry slice.

You gave him the drink and thought he would at least walk out of the cafe, much less with you. With the counter separating you both, he remained exactly where he was—in front of you. He takes a sip of the beverage and stares at you. He’s testing your patience, and it’s infuriating you, but you’re not willing to give in. The tension relaxed when he spoke up.

“So when do you plan on paying for my pickup replacement?” He asks, swirling the drink. He confused you for a moment because he didn’t provide any context, but based on the keywords he used, he implied that you owed him for damaging his bass.

“How much do they cost? Fifty dollars?”

"Double," he corrects, smiling from ear to ear.

You shudder at his response. “Don’t you have another bass for emergencies?”

“Don’t you have another cello?”

“Right… We can go to the bank after my shift.”

“Which is in…?”

You check the clock on the monitor. It won’t take you that long for him to wait. "In half an hour, but I have to clean up, so I guess around forty minutes?"

He nods and heads over to an empty table near the entrance of the building. He waits by scrolling through his phone, checking unanswered texts, and stalking accounts on social media. It wasn’t long before he began to doze off, only to be jolted awake by a nudge. He raises his head and rubs his eyes, looking at you, who is already out of uniform and waiting for him.

“So do you still want that replacement or not?” You ask after vigorously tapping his shoulder. He shifts his gaze to the table, where the ice in his refresher has completely melted and his phone has already reached twenty percent. Has he been asleep for so long? He returns your gaze and immediately stands up, pushing the chair into place.

“Hell yeah, I do!” he exclaims. He exits the cafe while you trail behind. Just as he turns in the direction of where he parked his car and heads over there, you turn the opposite way. He looks back and notices you walking away from him. “Where are you going?” he yells. You pause in your steps and turn around.

“The train station?” You answer, puzzled by his question.

“And let you sit between sweaty middle-aged men on the way? No way, pretty girl!”

You grumbled at his response and began walking toward him. “I’ll stay with you if you stop calling me that!” you protest.

He opens the passenger door and motions for you to enter the car, which you do after slapping his hand away. He gets in the car and fastens his seatbelt before chuckling. He moves his hand to the side and presses a button, followed by a clicking noise.

"I can’t make any promises," he smirks, placing one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding the keys as he starts the car.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," you mutter, buckling your seatbelt as he begins driving. He remained silent for the first few minutes of the drive, with the music filling the void between you two.

"You know, I just realized we don’t know each other's names, and this is the fourth time I’ve run into you," he remarks, quickly shifting his gaze to you and back to the road. You’re staring into nowhere at the window as your fingers tap your thigh to the rhythm of the song. “It’s my band’s song,” he pointed out, causing your fingers to stop going along.

“You like to run your mouth, don’t you?” You scoffed as you turned your head to look at him.

“If you tell me your name, I’ll be quiet,” he bargained.

“Why would I tell you that?”

He hummed. “So I can sabotage your quartet and blame the conceited cellist.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who wants to ruin their opponent’s image.”

Following that, you both remain completely silent. He silently questions why you’re not saying anything like he had expected. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my name in return?” He asks.

“Why would I want to know your name?”

“‘Cause I’m sexy and rich, and if everyone heard my name come out of your mouth, society would shake.”

“What an exaggerated way to say, ‘I’m better than you if you knew my name.’”

“I wouldn’t say better, but I am cooler.”

"And annoying," you mumble, causing him to quickly turn his head to you and raise an eyebrow before returning his attention to the road.

"The offer is still open," he adds.

You let out a heavy sigh. “(Name).”

When you finally arrive at the parking lot, he parks in front of the bank, and the silence lingers. You step out of the car without uttering a word, feeling the breeze of the air hitting your face. His eyes follow your figure as the car door slams shut, the sound resonating in the quiet atmosphere. He watches you enter the bank, the neon sign flickering and dancing to the beat of your steps.

Your name echoes in his head like a melody. It’s a perfect name for a cellist. The music still plays, and his fingers tap on the steering wheel to the rhythm. The door of the bank swings as you come back running to the car with a small stack of cash clutched in your hand. Without exchanging a glance, you shove the money into his hand. You fastened your seatbelt and gestured to him to start the car.

He turns the keys and starts driving back to the practice building, which was only a few minutes away. You closed your eyes and sat a bit too comfortably in the seat. You listen to the music. Is this really his band’s song?

It was too good to be true; it’s too sensual to be a song from a rock band. You didn’t even notice you were slowly bobbing your head until he mentioned it, making you scowl and sit up straight. Before you know it, the car comes to a halt, and you open your eyes to the parking lot of the studio.

You got out, and he trailed behind, catching up to you at the back entrance. You enter the elevator and press the button to go to the floor you both were going to. He plays with the hem of his jacket as he watches the numbers go up, his gaze shifting to you, then back to the numbers.

The door opens to the corridor of your floor, and you both walk out. You tried walking faster so you could quickly leave him in the hallway, but he tries to make small talk with you when you reach your apartment’s door.

“By the way, pretty girl,” he speaks up as you hastily rummage through your bag for your keys. “If you wanna sabotage my career as well,” You finally found your keys, looked for the key to your apartment, and stuck the key into the lock. “It’s Kim Mingyu,” he finishes his sentence as you open the door, entering the apartment and slamming it shut to indicate that you don’t want his name.

You ran to your room and dropped your bag by the door. You went to your desk and took out your journal from the drawer. You flipped to the incomplete page of your current song. You still have yet to finish the other one from two weeks ago, but this song was simply an excuse to rant about that stupid ass Mingyu.

As you try to think of a few lines for the song, you mutter his name several times. You jot them down, take out an empty sticky note that is lying on your table, and adhere it to the page.

You began writing down the recipe for that strawberry shortcake you made last week, and for some reason, you even drew a doodle of the cake in the corner. You chuckle at the paper, realizing that the sticky note had strawberries on it, but the title contained grapes.

You just seem to be drawn to fruits.

The following week, Mingyu found a way to always be with you, and you were just quick to assume it was a part of his band’s way to annoy you all.

On Monday, he came to your door with a broom in his hand and the other gripping your forearm. He was practically begging you to let him into your apartment. When you turned him down, he urged you to kill the cockroach in his apartment as you tried to push him away. You refused to believe someone giant like him was afraid of something so small.

On Tuesday, he saw you use the display cello from the music store he works at. He went up to you and had the audacity to ask you why you weren’t using your cello. Apparently, when your quartet wanted to practice, the minute your bows touched your instruments, the strings suddenly broke. Mingyu admits it was his band’s doing, which left you confused since, one, how the hell did they break into your apartment, and two, when did they do this? Not only did you land some free strings, but you also landed a punch on his stomach.

On Wednesday, he followed you around the building. The only time he didn’t was when you were in your apartment. You kept telling him to go away, but he insisted you tell him that strawberry banana recipe from three weeks ago. In the end, you never told him the actual recipe, only telling him to make a muffin batter and add the fruits.

On Thursday, it wasn’t intentional. You happened to run into him at the grocery store. He needed butter, and you needed whipping cream, so it was a coincidence to meet in the dairy section. Like the friendly man he was, he tried conversing with you, but you were trying to ignore him by making your way to the yogurts.

He kept eyeing the overripe bananas in your basket and attempted to convince you to give them to him. Apparently all the other bananas in the aisle were unripe or ripe, and he wanted to copy your strawberry banana muffins. You told him that he could use ripe ones and it would still taste the same, but he insisted that he preferred it sweeter when using overripe ones. So you two had to fight for the bananas. Or, in other words, he stole them from your basket.

On Friday, it was a much more peaceful day for you. No quartet, no shift, no chores, and most importantly, no Kim Mingyu to pester you around. You spent most of the day writing songs. You were able to finish the song you’ve been wanting to finish since three weeks ago and start a new one—still leaving Sour Grapes untouched.

It was around eleven in the evening when you stopped writing since Ryuwon texted you that her package had arrived. When you left the apartment, you happened to bump into Mingyu, who looked dishevelled and was close to letting go of his grip on the handle of the case of his bass. Although he was exhausted, he still wanted to talk to you.

On your way down, he followed you and mentioned how his band was unfortunate to have two gigs in one day. In the morning, their first gig was at a folk festival, and they played for five hours straight with a fifteen-minute break in between. Their other gig was at a bar, and the people there seemed to enjoy it more than the audience at the festival.

It was weird how he was tired. Despite hating rock bands, you know well enough that bass players are equivalent to violists. It was either the fact that he spent the whole day playing the bass or he’s simply exaggerating. Whatever the case was, it was Mingyu anyway, so there was no reason to be perplexed about him.

Saturday is your usual weekly group practice, but due to Ryuwon’s and the violinist’s instruments being broken, you all agreed to push it to tomorrow. As the two went to visit a specialist for reparations. you spent that day isolated in your room until Yoonhee called you to say that there was someone waiting for you at the door. Her brows were furrowed, and she really emphasized “someone.”

The door was closed rather than open, and Yoonhee stood by the door as she was anticipating for you to open it. When you opened it, Mingyu unexpectedly showed up at your door, beaming and waving.

You groaned, and Yoonhee whispered in your ear along the lines of asking if you and the bassist were friends. You were quick to reply and retorted that you two were never friends in the first place, and he was just trying to seek attention from you.

“What do you want?” You asked in a careless demeanour as Yoonhee left you two alone.

“Can’t I see my amazing best friend in the whole wide world?” He responds as he leans against the doorframe and gazes at you with what seem to be puppy eyes.

“I don’t recall being your friend. Go away,” you say, closing the door on him before he stops it by putting his hand in between.

“Wait, let me take you somewhere. Cat cafe, arcade, music store, you name it.”

You silently judged him with your eyes. “Me? Go out with you? Never in a million years! I’d rather jump off a bridge than be stuck in a room with some hot and arrogant bassist!”

He pouted at your words, but his eyes started to light up, and he slowly started smirking. “You just called me hot,” he teases.

“I never said it like that,” you retaliate.

“You think I’m hot!”

“Not! Stop twisting my words!” Those were the last words you yelled before shutting the door on him. He kept knocking on the door as you went back to your room. You can hear your roommates complain, and the noise eventually stops.

You spent Sunday practicing with your quartet. The two were able to get their instruments repaired, and you four sounded perfect, like always. Despite preferring to be alone all the time, you always liked playing with others rather than by yourself—although you never admit it when someone brings it up.

From playing with your grandparents to joining your high school’s orchestra to being a cellist in a quartet, you were always with someone when playing—except when composing your songs by yourself. Even when your cello didn’t have strings that one fateful week, someone from a rock band you despise was with you.

TRACK_004_FALLINGFORYA

‘Don’t usually swoon but I’m over the moon.’

That sentence was a line from the very first song you wrote when you were still in high school. The line was originally from a poetry assignment for English class back in your first year, and it has stuck with you ever since.

It was so simple yet so inspirational and relatable, and it perfectly described your love life. You remember writing that line, thinking about your first crush, who was a bassist from a boy band established by other students from the performing arts department. You weren’t the type to have crushes, so it was a new feeling.

He caught your eye when he was leaving the performing arts department as you were about to enter. You never knew his name or what grade he was in, only knowing his band was called Cerise.

You labelled him as a hallway crush since you never shared any classes, and you only ever saw him in the music room or at events the student council would hold. You easily got over him when you joined your school’s orchestra and choir ensemble, since those two were your priorities. That was also when you started to grasp the idea of rivals being a distraction.

Thinking about that one song makes you realize that the majority of the songs you write are about love. You don’t know where you get the motivation to write those since you’re not much of a romance fanatic, but you’ve definitely written a lot. You have a total of sixteen songs written. The first four were simply poems, but you began putting music notes on the others.

You like to write anywhere since it gives you inspiration, and in every song you finish, you add melodies and adjust them if there are too many or too few words in a line. You first hum out a melody, then use a piano your roommates have on display in the living room, and use your cello afterwards.

You’re currently trying out your recent song on the cello. Your fingers are starting to feel sore from moving the bow a lot. The melody is too upbeat for your liking, and it’s not the usual mellow or melancholic songs you’d write.

Singing it sounds right, but playing it with the cello sounds off; it might just be better off with the piano or some other instrument.

You close your journal and quickly put your cello back in the case. You take a deep breath as you lean down in your chair. You’re not the type to give up, but the song is making you doubt your skills. You get up to grab your journal from the stand and take your purse lying on the floor.

You shoved the book in as you left your room to head to the door. Quickly locking the door, you went down the hallway to go to the elevator. To be honest, you have no idea where to go; you're just hoping there’s a place out there to solve your small problem.

As soon as the elevator doors close, they open again, revealing a smiley face you’d recognize anywhere. “Where are you headed now, pretty?” Mingyu asks, making you scowl even more at that stupid-ass nickname he calls you.

“I don’t know; maybe away from you,” you say, pressing the button that leads to the lobby.

"Ouch, it looks like someone pissed in your cereal today. Not surprised, though, since you’re always salty,” he jokes, earning him a hard slap on the shoulder from you.

“Last time it was sour, and now it’s salty; what’s next? Sweet?”

He cackles, “You wish.”

The door opens, and the two of you step out. He heads over to the exit, and you couldn’t believe that your steps are following his. “Bassist!” You yell out, causing him to stop walking and turn his head.

“It’s Mingyu,” he corrected.

“Whatever. Are you going anywhere?”

“I have a gig in twenty minutes at a resort. Wanna come?”

“Nevermind, I heard ‘gig,’ and my ears turned off.”

“I’m not bad at the bass, trust me. I’m pretty hot when I play.”

“Even worse,” you turn away and walk back to the elevator. “Break a leg—literally, bass boy.”

“I’ll treat you to dessert if you come!” He yells out, making you leave the elevator to face him again. Dessert is tempting; then again, you have to watch his show—unless you don’t but still eat. Running away with the plate might be a better idea; what’s the worst that can happen?

“Fine, but only if it’s before your show. And I’ll only be there until I finish the dessert. I’ll call my friend to pick me up,” you sigh before he takes your hand and brings you to his car.

When he mentioned a resort, you assumed it would be some small resort by a lake, not the most luxurious resort in the city by the beach. It pays a lot, and he’ll be playing for tons of people, not to mention rich tourists.

Your mouth is agape at the sight of the massive resort when you two stand in front of the entrance. You see his friends setting up through the glass door before walking in. His bass is on display next to his band, and it piques a thought.

“Why didn’t you go with your band for rehearsal?”

“I was recovering from a hangover. I can rehearse the whole setlist within five minutes.”

“Wow. Alcoholic much?” You joked. He didn’t deny it, but all he did was change the topic to the dessert he promised. He left for a few minutes and unexpectedly came back with a cart of plated desserts. He rolls the cart in front of you, showing you all the options.

Key lime pie, apple rhubarb pie, chocolate-covered strawberries, peach cake, matcha French macarons, caramelized banana pudding, lemon galette, grape yogurt tart—there were too many to name. This might interrupt your plan. You looked at the cart, then at Mingyu, then back at the cart. It looks good, it smells delicious, and it might taste amazing. Baked goods may be your weakness, but the mastermind behind this is your biggest enemy. Thinking about it is making you suddenly wish you didn’t agree in the first place.

But you’re smarter than this. If you can bake at the age of seven without parental supervision, you can get your way out of this. Maybe you can eat three plates of dessert, then call it a day. Though that wouldn’t work since he expects you to bring the rest home. Or you could pretend to eat it all and throw it away, but food waste is so careless.

“I’m suddenly not craving carbs. I’m more thirsty than I am hungry,” you mention, smiling to mask your lie. “I’ll have water, then I’ll be out of here.”

He stares at you with confusion. Carbs? More thirsty? Water? You’re just spitting nonsense at this point. First it was spilling whipped cream on his bass, then you kept calling him random names, and now you want to leave five minutes after arriving—he thinks you’re more eccentric than he is. “How about staying for just one song?”

“Hell no.”

“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” It’s very bad. Detrimental, you may say. You know it’s vile; your quartet knows; heck, his past neighbours experienced how atrocious it was.

“It’s terrible.”

“Another one of your lies; you just love lying, don’t you?” He teases. His words remind you that you don’t remember lying to him at all.

“I’m an honest person.”

“And what about that time you were enjoying my band’s song?”

“It was an honest mistake; I didn’t know you guys knew how to make indie rock songs.”

“We’re literally an indie rock band.”

This small argument is getting you nowhere out of this building. All you want to do is perfect your song with a better instrument, something that isn’t a part of the violin family, and that might just hurt your pride.

“I’ll do anything for you to stay for just one song.” His words finally hit your head, connecting the dots—and this might hurt your pride even more.

“Do you know how to play the guitar?” You ask. You came up with an idea while thinking about your song. Never in your life would you think of someone like Mingyu helping you, but it’s your only hope. You could give up on the song, yet knowing you, you’d rather give in than give up.

“Is that even a question? Of course I can.” In less than three seconds after he responded, Mingyu suddenly found it weird how you would ask a question like that. Even though he met you a month ago, he knows well enough that a word about rock would never come out of your mouth unless you were talking shit about it.

“What’s on your mind, pretty one?” He asks, and that already has you thinking about the other option, giving up instead.

“If I stay for one song, will you help me with something?” Mingyu is already beaming from ear to ear when he hears your answer. Before he can agree and ask you about your favour, his bandmate calls him to start the gig, leaving you without a word. His supposed five-minute setlist rehearsal has already passed due to talking with you. He’ll be fine though; he’s a bassist after all.

Now you don’t know if he agreed or not, so now you’re not sure if you should speak up to your word or not. You sit down on a stool by the bar, which is close to the band. The rich guests were already interested when they introduced themselves. Seungcheol on drums, Vernon and Wonwoo on guitar, and last but not least, the man himself, Mingyu on bass. They started off with a song, which, ironically, was the song Mingyu was mentioning earlier—the one you’re quite familiar with and their only song you know.

Every time Mingyu told you he was good at the bass, you never believed him since bassists barely did anything. Now, after seeing it with your own two eyes, he’s way better than what you awfully expected. Despite not rehearsing right when he arrived, his bass slaps are hella impressive.

The way his fingers move a lot on the neck and how his eyes are so focused on people instead of his instrument. It’s alluring; it’s distracting; why does it feel like you’ve seen this before? The audience cheers, and you can see his smile widening. When the guitarist begins his solo, Mingyu averts his gaze from the others to you, tilting his head in a way of asking for commendation. You roll your eyes and ignore him by turning to face the bartender, who was watching as well.

By the time they finished the song, everyone applauded. You turned to look at them again, and the lead guitarist’s action caught your eye. He was shyly waving at someone in the audience, and as you averted your eyes to see who he was waving at, you couldn’t believe who waved back. While the band was asking people for song requests, you got up from your seat and moved closer to the person.

When the next song began, you nudged her as she looked at you with fear in her eyes. “What are you doing here?” The violinist asks.

You glanced at the band, then returned your gaze to her. “I should be asking you the same. Are you seeing the guitarist behind our back?”

“No! We’re just friends.” She was swift to deny, but her voice was strained.

“Friends? Do you realize that you, being friends with him, are putting our music in a dangerous position?”

“You say that as if you don’t do the same!”

“It’s different! I don’t want to be the bassist’s friend, yet you’re willing to be friends with the enemy.” The frustration rose between you two. It’s leading you to so many thoughts about her and the quartet.

You were quick to end the argument by calling Yoonhee to come pick you two up. By the time she arrived, she was confused as to why the two of you were at a resort, but she easily read the room that something bad had happened. The car ride back to the studio was extremely silent, with no music playing on the radio and the middle seat separating you and the violinist.

Yoonhee overreacted when you brought up the fact that the violinist and the guitarist from the band are friends. She began jabbering about how disappointed and mad Ryuwon would be if she found out—and everyone knows how terrifying it can get when the leader is mad.

The violinist fought back and called it hypocritical because it wasn’t fair how they let it slide when the bassist talked to you. “We talked about this before; he’s only there to pester and sabotage me, while you and that guitarist have some sort of friendship,” you remarked earlier. “You know he’s an enemy.”

After Yoonhee parked in front of the studio, the violinist left the car before the argument could get any worse, slamming her door as you two watched her enter the building alone. That was the first time you ever saw her explode.

The following week, you eventually apologized for scolding her about it and mentioned that you were only worried for her as a musician rather than as a friend, because if your non-cellist persona was aware of what was going on between them, you wouldn’t give a damn if she had a thing for him. The three of you acted as if that day never happened, not even telling Ryuwon about it. The violinist was a lot busier music-wise than the rest of you since she got invited to perform a concerto at her instructor’s birthday, making her practice a piece non-stop two weeks prior. So none of you practiced for those two weeks.

You had nothing to do at home since, one, in order to finish your current song, you needed to use your cello, and two, if you were to bake, it would be disruptive. So, you simply went out all the time to see if you could do anything and hopefully get inspiration to write new songs.

Those times may have been unlucky for you because no matter where you went, the stupid bassist would always be there. Each time you saw him, it was always the same: he would go up to you and make small talk, would clown you all the time, and at the end of the day, you would find yourself writing a few lines for ‘Sour Grapes.’

The first time he encountered you was at a music store. Not the store in the studios, but a studio that’s at the opposite end of the city. You both stared at each other in bewilderment, him wondering why you’re here and how you should be asking the same since he clearly works at one. He brought up that you left the resort early, and you simply told him important matters came up.

“You didn’t get to eat the desserts I gave you,” he pouts. “I had to give them all away to new fans.”

“What a bummer,” you sarcastically remark.

“You should do that all the time when I have gigs.”

“Keep dreaming, Bubble Bass,” you say, walking away from him, but he keeps following you.

“When will you start calling me by my actual name?” He asks while looking through vinyls of classical composers. Disgust grows on his face with each vinyl cover he looks at. Seriously, he doesn’t understand how one can only listen to classical music.

“I could say the same. It’s always ‘pretty girl’ but never (Name).”

“But you are pretty.”

“Go home, weirdo.”

Little did you know that you went home before him and slept for twelve hours straight. By the time you woke up, it was already four in the morning. That sleep was probably the best you’ve ever slept in your entire life. Your hand reached for your journal that was lying on the nightstand, and you didn’t think you’d ever write another line.

‘I’m the only one who’s going to get hurt.’

Mingyu heard of the grand opening of a new cafe that was a block away from the studio; he had a feeling you were going. So there he stood by the corner of the building, waiting in line. He didn’t think there would be such a long line, but what did he expect? Everyone just loves coffee.

He’s suddenly thanking his genes for his height when he tiptoed to look at the front of the line. He instantly recognizes you, who was entering with a group of friends. He steps back down and rethinks. Since when did you have friends, and how the hell were you earlier than him? The line was moving, but he only had to take two steps. He’s going to be here forever.

Around twenty minutes later, Mingyu finally entered the cafe. He scanned around; the place was minimal and the decor was cute, something you definitely like.

When you saw him walk in, you were quick to hide your face by turning your head to face one of your friends and whispering in her ear. You mentioned the ‘don’t look’ code, but you knew that never works and looked at Mingyu. Her eyes moved a lot from her cup of coffee to him to your eyes and back at her coffee. The more her eyes were on him, it clicked in her head why he looked so familiar.

She turns her head to whisper back in your ear, your face still away from his direction. “Wasn’t he your hallway crush from high school?” She questioned before you lightly pushed her away from the idea. You forgot how your hallway crush looked since you last saw him years ago, but there was no way he was Mingyu. He was hotter and more talented than the latter.

But the idea still struck you. Him? Sure, there were some similarities, like being the bassist of a band and being super tall, but that’s mostly all bassists you’ve encountered. Your friend is just tripping. Or maybe you don’t want to admit that it could be him. You take a quick glance at him, who was by the counter ordering, and the more you look, you can’t help but think that he might be the bassist you wrote a song about.

‘It’s bittersweet that I don’t wanna taste.’

Two weeks have passed, and you’re here sitting in Yoonhee’s car next to the violinist, adjusting her necklace for her. The four of you are on your way to drop her off at the birthday party before the rest of you go to a nightclub. You all agreed that while she was at her instructor’s party, you’d be at the club until she called to go home.

There were a few rules Ryuwon established, such as if Yoonhee was drunk, either you or she would drive, and the club had to be near where the violinist would be in case something happened. Luckily, after you dropped off the violinist, you were able to find a club that was two blocks away from the banquet.

“Wanna bet who’s gonna get hit on first?” Yoonhee asked as you three were heading to the entrance of the club.

“Hmmm, Ryu, for sure, her back is showing,” you say, poking her revealing back.

"Yeah, and I’ll tell them three hundred ways to go get lasik because they clearly can’t see the ring on my finger,” Ryuwon provoked. “If they aren’t actually blind, it’s either you two.”

“(Name) would be the last to go home with a guy because she hates men,” Yoonhee mentions.

After you finally go in, Ryuwon speaks up. “Nah, (Name) doesn’t hate men; she’s loyal. And besides, we all know she has a thing for men who play bass, whether it’s someone that plays double bass or bass guitar, mainly bass guitar—which, yuck, by the way!”

“I do not! Everyone knows I hate bassists, especially if they’re men,” you retort.

“Says the one who used to like one back in grade nine.”

“And has a bassist head over heels for her!” Yoonhee adds.

“Speak of the devils,” you mutter when you spot the band sitting by the bar with the bespectacled guitarist missing in the picture. Out of all places and times, why do they have to be here?

As you looked by your side, the two had already run off, and you swore you were going to kill them if you saw them. You’re all alone, and there’s a fifty percent chance you might run into Mingyu. Maybe if you avoid him for the night, you won’t have to talk to him; just pray he doesn’t approach you.

You sat on the end of a couch and spotted Yoonhee in the crowd. Just as you were about to go up to her, an aggravating and well-recognized voice stopped you from getting up.

“The club is the last place I thought I’d ever see you,” Mingyu brought up, who was standing next to the arm of the sofa you were sitting on. “What are you even doing here?”

“My friend is performing at a birthday party, so the three of us agreed we’d go clubbing while she’s busy.”

“That’s ironic; so is mine. My friend’s dad’s birthday is today, and his dad is a violin teacher. Who knows, they could be attending the same one.”

Your mind trails back to the day you found out she and the guitarist were friends. “I found out they’ve been seeing each other.”

“That’s odd; Wonwoo was never the romantic type. Is that why he’s always gone?” Now it’s really convincing that the violinist and he have connections. She mentioned his name once in a conversation, but no one bothered asking who he was.

“While you’re here, want a drink?” He asks.

“Not much of a drinker, but sure.”

You both head to the bar, and as you sit on the stool, Mingyu gives cocktail recommendations. He suggests a lot that you’ve heard of, like Margarita and Mojito, but never tried since you only ever drink once every two or three months. He mentions one that catches your attention, and you immediately ask for that one.

Strawberry Daiquiri.

While waiting for your drink, Mingyu comments that it’s his personal favourite, mainly because it’s strawberry-flavoured. That made you realize he likes a lot of things strawberry-related, like you. The muffins, the refresher, fighting over a pack of strawberries, and the daiquiri—your love for the fruit is the only thing you two have in common.

Surprisingly, he’s still talking to you despite not saying anything but nodding. You’re listening, and for some reason, you’re glad you have company. The bartender places the drink on the counter, and Mingyu eagerly watches you hold it. You brought the brim to your lips, and the first sip was strong. It tasted more delectable than you expected, and you were quick to down half the glass.

You feel bad for keeping the conversation one-sided, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. It kept going, and before you knew it, your drink was already finished. You asked for another one, and this time the conversation was mutual. You two were on the topic of music, and you got to know a little bit about him from his implications.

From what he mentions, his band has been going on since high school, and he once injured his arm so much that his little sister had to replace him for a while. He was never serious about music and played for fun. You remember earlier that he knew how to play the guitar, and apparently, he used to be a guitarist until he learned that the bass was much easier. He mentioned the school he went to, and that information alone confirms he was the bassist you had a crush on.

Your words were starting to slur, and you don’t know how you ended up confessing that you went to school with him—still trying not to mention that he was the reason why you started writing songs. You finished your second drink quicker than your first one and laid your head on the counter before asking for a third. While drinking your third one, the words coming out of your mouth are foreign to you. When you tried getting up from your seat, you almost stumbled, but Mingyu was lucky enough to catch you, his hand on your waist.

“You know if I was sober right now, I’d punch you for holding me like this,” you mumble. He doesn’t say anything in return. Your faces are close, and his lips are practically hovering over yours.

He leans in more to your ear and whispers. “I’d like to see you try.”

After that, the rest of the night was a blur, only remembering how his other hand held the back of your neck, your back pressed against the cold wall, and your fingers brushing against his soft hair.

TRACK_005_KISSYOU

Jihyo opened the front door to the sight of you standing there, holding your cello and a few cardboard boxes lying on the porch. She looks like she just woke up with bedhead, with a blanket covering her upper body. She rubs her eyes as she tilts her head as to why you’re on her doorstep, and then she remembers. “You told me it was next week!” she yells.

“Yeah, I told you that last week!”

The band practiced late at night often, and it started to piss your quartet off and ruin everyone’s rest, so you all decided to move out. The agreement stayed the same: every Saturday, group practice in your brother’s basement. Ryuwon rented a small condominium, while the violinist and Yoonhee moved in with their group of friends. As for you, you decided to be housemates with your cousin Jihyo since the only payment she accepts is your offering to pay for groceries and the bill for fine dining. You’re grateful to have Jihyo because, without her, you might be living in Joshua’s basement again.

She pushes each box inside the house with her foot. As unfazed as she is when pushing it, it’s lighter than she thought it would be. Knowing you, when it comes to packing, you pack lightly, which is why on flights abroad, some of your friends would add their own personal belongings to your luggage because ‘there’s a lot of space.’

Jihyo led you to your room, which was still empty, as she had planned on decorating it tomorrow if she knew you were coming this week. Still, as long as you had a bed and a desk, it was fine. You were quick to drop your cello and lie down on your new bed. If there was something that you were glad to know, it was that Jihyo’s parents owned a mattress store, and their mattresses were known to be the softest in the city. It was like resting on a cloud, and you don’t think you could ever get up after this.

“Don’t think that you can take a break; you have some unpacking to do,” she reminds you, taking a pillow and throwing it against you. Luckily for you, the only belongings in the boxes are clothes and other necessities like skincare and your unhealthy collection of fruit-themed hair clips.

She opens a box, and it turns out to be said collection, and only that, in the box. “Damn girl, I thought you stopped collecting in grade eleven.”

“I did, but I started collecting again after I saw a cute set when I went to France, which was not too long ago,” you say, sliding off the bed.

"Well, I can’t blame you; it’s not a bad addiction.” Jihyo puts the collection aside and helps you by unpacking more boxes with you. After several boxes were unpacked and your belongings kept tidied away, it was already past four in the afternoon. Jihyo went to cook dinner, which left you with nothing to do. You could either A: stay in bed on your phone until dinner or B: roam around the area. The first option might be better.

The minute you lay back on your new bed, Jihyo calls your name out, then proceeds to mention you getting the mail outside for her. Damn, Jihyo really doesn’t want you resting in her house. You head out the front door to her mailbox. As you pick up all the mail, you look through the letters and offers that were sent to her. A letter from the bank, a few coupons from fast food chains, and a letter that was supposed to be sent to the house next door to Jihyo. You quickly made your way to her neighbour’s house to drop off the letter in their mailbox, but by the time you turned around to leave their porch, a living nightmare froze at their gates, holding eye contact with you.

“Long time no see?” Mingyu comments but is perplexed by the sight of you. ‘Long time no see,’ as in the last time he ever saw you was the night you went clubbing, and that will be the last time you’ll ever go to a club. Ever since that night, you started avoiding Mingyu because, to be honest, you didn’t really know what actually happened that night between you two. You were scared of what he was going to say, like mentioning the fact that you probably made out with him—which you’re not too sure if you actually did.

Luckily, when Ryuwon brought up moving, you were quick to agree, mainly because this was a chance to escape Mingyu’s clutches. The reason why you specifically asked Jihyo to be her housemate was due to the fact that she lived in the suburbs, which is far from the music plaza. So how the hell did you encounter Mingyu at your secret hideout place that was half an hour away from his place?

“What are you doing here now?!” you complained.

“I live here? What are you doing in front of my house?” Live. You. His house. He’s your neighbour again? And just as you thought you could escape, he has another place to stay that just has to be next to yours again. Seriously, what’s up with rich boys and having houses everywhere?

“Your mail went into my mailbox; I just didn’t think it was your mail.” You clarified, stepping down from his porch. You didn’t think too much about the letter when you saw the owner’s last name. ‘Kim’ is a typical last name, and it could’ve been anyone. Unfortunately, that ‘Kim’ was related to Kim Mingyu. Mingyu looks to his left, looking at the house you were currently living in.

“You moved out? Is that why your apartment was suddenly quiet?” He asks. Out of nowhere, your quartet’s apartment was dead silent. He noticed how no one left or entered, and he never saw you or your members around the plaza. And now that he thinks about it, he never saw you around the area. You weren’t sitting at a usual café or looking for CDs in the music store. He even went to the café you worked at in hopes he'd find you working, but you weren’t there behind the counter.

“Yeah, we all did because we were tired of your band’s bullshit. You won.” You say, walking past him and leaving his property to go to yours. Leaving that band alone was supposed to be a new era—no more rivalries and only playing for yourself. Mingyu, however, just keeps coming back into your life, and it’s sickening.

The following several days of staying at Jihyo’s, you noticed a pattern of when Mingyu would go to his house. It turns out it’s his childhood house, and he visits his family four times a week. Ever since he found out you’re his neighbour once again, he has visited you on the same days.

One time, you came back from work and found Mingyu sprawled and napping on your bed. You kicked him off your bed, started throwing pillows at him when he woke up, and kept calling him a pervert. Apparently, when he was looking for you, Jihyo let him in and told him to wait until you came back—but what she didn’t know was that you hate his guts.

When you tried kicking him out of the house, she caught you two and asked why you were kicking your boyfriend out. The moment she called him your boyfriend, Mingyu's lips grew a smirk, and he snaked his arm around your shoulders.

You were irked when he continued with, “Yeah, love, why are you?” Jihyo was, without a doubt, geeked out. You were quick to push him away and tell her that he wasn’t your boyfriend. She offered to stay for dinner, as Mingyu thought it was a great idea while you thought it was a horrible idea.

Eventually, he did stay over for dinner since the only person who was terrifying to fight was none other than Jihyo. She made the two of you sit next to each other, and the only thing she talked about was embarrassing you in front of him, telling him how you once cried over your orange falling in the toilet and how you always mistook some random person in the hallways as her.

It was humiliating to the point where you left the room for a few seconds. Bad idea, you thought. Who knows what kind of bullshit Jihyo will tell him? You quickly came back to your seat just as she finished whispering to him, causing him to smile a little. Jihyo excused herself to the bathroom, and it was just you two, eating in silence.

Whatever your cousin told him is making you nervous since Mingyu isn’t talking at all—and he always has something to say. You take a small glance at him, who was already looking at you, and turn your head away. Did he catch you staring at him? Or did you catch him staring at you?

"So, what’s the song called?” He asked without context. Song? Whatever Jihyo told him has to be music-related; otherwise, he wouldn’t be asking at all. What did she tell him, though?

“What song?”

“Your cousin told me you wrote a song about me back in high school.” What the fuck? Self-note to your next life: never tell anyone about your crushes. You internally push the panic button, and your jaw only drops. You’re left speechless, debating whether you should lie to him by telling him Jihyo says anything for the plot or be honest and confess you liked him before.

“It was just a poetry assignment, nothing special,” you clarify, lying about the last part because you know damn well it was dedicated to him.

He moves his face close to yours, innocently smiling and holding eye contact with you, as your faces are most likely two inches away from kissing. “Does that mean you like me?” He teases as he tilts his head.

You shoved his face away and started yelling at him. “It was freshman year! Any girl would have liked you more!”

“Well, now that I know you were one of those girls, I wish I had known you back then.” He starts laughing, as your hand is the only thing that's creating a barrier between you two. Jihyo comes back and asks what he was laughing about.

Without answering her, you immediately asked her, “Did you tell him I liked him?”

She grinned as if she were clueless and took a closer look at Mingyu. “Ohh! So you were the bassist in my Geo class,” she commented and turned to you. “No, I only told him you were downright horrendous for a guy who plays bass, to the point where you wrote a song about him.”

You groaned and sank in your seat. “Remind me to never tell you about any man I like.” While your eyes are shut, Jihyo looks at Mingyu, then at you and back at Mingyu, and starts wiggling her eyebrows. He looks away while he coughs aggressively and gets up from his seat as you sit properly.

“I should probably get going. It was nice meeting you again,” he concludes, shaking Jihyo’s hand. You all head to the front, and before he heads out, he looks at you once more and beams. “Goodnight, you two. Dream of me, (Name)!” He jokes before you push him out the door.

Unbeknownst to you, you dreamt of him that night—and you can’t deny that the idea of it made you giggle just a bit when you woke up.

TRACK_006_BREAKINGNEWS

Mingyu literally flipped when he finally got your number. It took him several months to convince you to give him your number. Whenever you asked why, he would simply answer with ‘cause why not’ or ‘don’t worry about it.’ Since then, he would text you nonstop whenever you two didn’t see each other, always starting by asking about your day and ending it off with goodnight texts at three in the morning.

He would also call you out of the blue, always giggling like a little girl whenever you answered his calls, and ramble random things about his day to you. Mingyu likes talking to you, and he loves it when you talk to him. His day isn’t complete without annoying you, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Unfortunately, his time is up with you.

“I’m sorry?” He asks after hearing what Seungcheol, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, told him. His friend randomly woke him up after his fourteen-hour sleep to tell him he had to go on a date soon.

“I set you up with someone, and your date is in,” Seungcheol mentions as he checks his watch for the time, “three hours.”

Mingyu quickly sat up and began to make random noises, shouting a bunch of ‘whys.’.

Seungcheol tossed him a shirt and explained. “Well, once upon a time, I went for your beautiful sister. Vernon doesn’t mind the idea of dating, and Wonwoo is in love with music. It’s your turn.” Before Mingyu could defend himself, Seungcheol spoke up again: “And if you’re gonna mention that cellist, she’s our rival; don’t get yourself attached to someone who’s willing to sabotage your career.”

He’s right. Knowing you, you can drop the act and ruin everything he worked hard for. You’re dangerous. But he loves danger and wants to take the risk.

[Mingyu]: i survived!!!!

You were the first person Mingyu texted after his date. Long story short, he doesn’t want to go on another date. Seungcheol set him up with another bassist from a girl band. He wasn’t interested at all and would’ve preferred someone who didn’t play the same instrument as him, like a drummer or a cellist.

He’s engulfed in the warmth of his blanket, waiting for your reply to his message that he sent two hours ago. When it comes to texting, you’re very odd. You text people like you’re a mother. You would leave his messages on seen and text back hours later. He knows you’re a busy person, but he also knows you prefer calling over texting.

Seungcheol crashes into his room and slams himself on Mingyu’s bed. “How was the date?” He asks.

“Not a big fan. I prefer drummers,” he lies, keeping his eyes on his phone, still waiting for your response.

“Good choice. Your sister is a great example; she, a talented bassist, went for a hot drummer,” he comments, pointing at himself. Mingyu shrugs in response and doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. Seungcheol heavily sighs and snatches Mingyu’s phone from him. He glances at the screen and shuts it off.

“I’ll find a drummer for you, cause they’re rock stars, and rock stars don’t play the cello,” he provoked, tossing his phone back to the owner and leaving his room. Mingyu’s phone flashes open, a notification popping up on his lock screen.

[You]: The date?

[Mingyu]: yeah

[Mingyu]: it was the worst

[Mingyu]: i dont get along with my kind of people

[You]: You would be a very horrible boyfriend.

[Mingyu]: ur horrible boyfriend ;)

Thumbs down. That was how you responded to that—reacting to the message with a thumbs-down emoji. Mingyu chuckles at your reply and shuts his phone off. He can feel his heart beating fast. He likes to tease you by shipping you with himself, but it was always just jokes. This joke, however, has him thinking what it would be like to date you. He likes the sound of that—(Name)’s horrible boyfriend, Mingyu. Maybe he won’t mind going on a date with you.

12:37 AM. Mingyu had another date at seven in the evening with a drummer. Seungcheol expected him to come back in three hours, but when it was already almost midnight, he assumed the date was successful and thought he slept with her. In reality, the date ended earlier than he expected. As soon as Mingyu had met up with her, she was honest and admitted that she was forced to be here as well. He left right after and secretly went over to your house.

You were in the middle of baking strawberry cheesecake cookies, requested by Jihyo while she was at work. The cookies were in the oven when Mingyu rang the doorbell. When you opened the door to his face, you closed it before he could even greet you.

“I brought ice cream,” he mentioned, trying to convince you. The door creaked open, and he let himself in, watching you head to the kitchen to take the sheet pan out of the oven. He places the plastic bag on the coffee table and sprawls on the couch. You come into the living room, quickly place the plate of cookies and two spoons on the table, and sit next to Mingyu.

As he tries to grab a cookie, you slap his hand away from it. “Not for you.”

“So you’re just gonna put it on the table in front of my eyes and expect me not to eat it?!” He complains as you nod in response. “Ouch, princess, you might just be the cause of my death.”

“Do you expect me to feed you whenever you show up to my house uninvited?”

“Pretty much an unspoken rule between us.”

“Uh, no, we did not establish that at all.”

He pouts, his attempt at distracting you from his hand sneaking to the plate, which easily caught your eye before you slapped it away again. You pass the TV remote to Mingyu as you look through the flavours of ice cream in the bag that he brought. Cookies & Cream, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Neapolitan, Mint Chocolate Chip, and the best flavour out there, Strawberry Cheesecake—which is no doubt the one you picked.

You look back up to the TV, where Mingyu was about to start playing a musical. “I’m feeling a High School Musical marathon right now.” He looks at you, his eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. You give in and agree, him cheering and quickly pressing the play button as a result.

Mingyu gets weirder and weirder each time you meet him. He’s a whole different person when he’s not on stage, like he’s about to conquer the world. How he went from an intimidating bassist to a man who can’t even kill a spider to save his life. You doubt he would be able to protect his image from the public.

All this doesn’t mean he’s a bad person, though. Despite you saying a lot of awful things about him, there are some parts of him that you tolerate. Even though he bugs you all the time, he’s a caring person who doesn’t want you to be lonely—although you prefer being alone all the time. His smile is a little detail you notice about him—how his grin gets wider each time he sees you.

Does he know you’ve been staring at him instead of the screen since the movie started?

After you two finished the first movie, you suggested watching the second one since your cousin wasn’t home yet and she hasn’t even replied to your texts. So you ended up watching the whole trilogy while eating the cookies that were about to get cold. By the time you finished the third movie, it was already past eleven in the evening, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Jihyo. Mingyu played a documentary to pass time, which was mundane, so you two pan out in small talk here and there instead.

Mingyu’s phone buzzes as he takes it out to look at texts from his leader.

[Seungcheol]: enjoy ur little “date” with little miss drummer

[Seungcheol]: REALLY take ur time with her

[Seungcheol]: girls love it when ur rough

[Seungcheol]: if you know what i mean ;)

Mingyu mutters out a ‘yuck,’ and if you were in his shoes, you would’ve said the same thing. He glances at you, who was perhaps reading his messages with his leader, and all you did was raise a brow at him.

“I swear I’m not having sex with anyone!” He refuted, not even giving a care about leaving his friend on read.

“Sure…”

“Seriously! I’m done with going on dates with my kind of people.”

A thought popped up in your mind. Mingyu was never serious about playing in a band, so that would mean it wasn’t his first priority. Serious musicians prioritize music over relationships, so why is it that he’s not interested in dating? “How come you don’t want to date?”

Mingyu was taken aback by your question. It’s a broad topic. He actually wants to be committed to a relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to date, but he doesn’t want to date rockers. He sees how they act and the chaos they would start. He would know; he’s one of them. So he wants to balance it out; he would want someone who’s the opposite of him. That’s why he was so intrigued when he met you. How is he supposed to tell you he doesn’t want to date anyone but you?

He shrugs as a response instead, trying to avoid the question. You suddenly recall that time you went to the club and encountered him there. It’s been bothering you since you don’t want to believe that you kissed him, but you needed to clear it from your mind.

“What happened that night we went clubbing? Did we do something…suggestive?” You ask out of the blue. Mingyu says nothing but smiles to himself.

“What if I said we did?” You groan at his response and cover your face. “I was kidding! We actually didn't.” He laughs sheepishly. “You assaulted me instead.”

What the hell? You always say that you’ll make your enemies pay, but you didn’t think you’d actually do it, especially when you’re drunk.

“Right after I whispered in your ear, you literally grabbed my lips. Then when I tried pulling your hand away, you pushed my face away.” When Mingyu stops explaining, you think that's it, but from his awkward expression, he definitely had more to say. “So I may or may not have gripped onto you by the neck.” ‘His other hand held the back of your neck’ was really his attempt at strangling you.

“You splashed water on me, and when I was gonna go to the restroom to clean myself up, you followed me, so I made you stand against the wall until I was done.” ‘Your back pressed against the cold wall’ was another way of saying that he put your grown ass on time-out.

“When I came out, you started pulling my hair, and I had to call your friend over to take you home before you could give me a second bald spot.” Mingyu turns his head and parts some of his hair out of the way to show you the small growing bald spot that you did on the back of his head. ‘Your fingers brushing against his soft hair’ is more like your hands ripping his hair out.

Damn, you can’t believe you did all of that. It doesn’t sound like you, but at the same time, it definitely does!

"Wow...” is all you can respond to about your actions. You sigh in relief, and your worries about that night are washed away. “I’m kind of relieved I did that instead. I thought we made out or something.”

The instant regret comes to you as soon as you confess your thoughts, with Mingyu slowly turning his head to face you with his awkward expression now forming into a smug face. “So you thought about us kissing, didn’t you?” Before you could defend yourself like always, you were saved by another notification that popped up on Mingyu’s phone.

[Wonwoo]: cheol said you're not coming home tonight, but I know you're not screwing with other women right now.

[Wonwoo]: I also know you're at the cellist’s house because you have your location on. so I advise you to turn it off if you don't want to get caught.

[Wonwoo]: are you going to bring her to the festival?

Mingyu looks back to you, who was actually trying to watch the documentary instead of looking at his messages. “Do you want to go to the winter music festival this Saturday?”

“Sure, I’ll bring my friends there too,” you agreed without hesitation or careful consideration, not even looking at Mingyu but keeping your eyes on the screen.

[Mingyu]: yeah, r u bringing yours

[Wonwoo]: obviously, that’s why I asked you because I don’t want to get caught.

[Wonwoo]: and if I did get in trouble, you too would be in trouble with me.

[Mingyu]: im surprised no one found out abt ur little relationship

[Wonwoo]: I’m surprised you’re not afraid that our manager knows about yours.

[Mingyu]: we’re not a thing YET!

[Mingyu]: but we should never hide what we love!!!

[Wonwoo]: …

[Wonwoo]: it is a tough world we live in.

Mingyu takes another look at you, who was dozing off from the boredom of watching. Wow, the documentary must really be that boring. He thinks about what Wonwoo said. it’s a tough world they live in. Rock and classical are never a good mix. You’re the polar opposite of what he is. He’s supposed to hate you, but there’s something about you that draws him to you. However, you’re very competitive and dedicated to the feud. Oh, how he wishes there was never rivalry in the first place.

[Mingyu]: life is hard but im harder 🗣️

[Wonwoo]: shut the hell up.

When you woke up, Mingyu was already gone, and the TV was off. The table was sparkly clean, and you found yourself wrapped in a blanket. Jihyo walked in the living room, caught off guard when she saw you sitting up. "Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” she joked as she went to sit next to you on the couch.

“What time is it?”

“Past midnight. I came home not too long ago and saw you with you-know-who.” Jihyo must’ve showed up when he was still here and kicked him out. Yeah, that’s it—or what you hope you think.

“Did he leave right after you came?”

Jihyo giggles and pulls out her phone, showing you a picture she took of you and Mingyu sleeping together on the couch. “You guys are so cute, I might just set this as my lockscreen!” You groan at her words as you get up to do your nightly routine, hoping that this won’t haunt you in your dreams like always.

Mingyu sneaked back into the apartment and quietly exulted in the lights being shut off, a sign that all his roommates were asleep. When he headed over to the kitchen for a glass of water, he heard footsteps behind him, and the lights turned on. Too afraid to turn around, he continues slowly reaching for a cup in the cabinet and places it down on the counter. It could be anyone behind him: a blind Wonwoo, a tired Vernon, a scary Seungcheol, or all three of them—but he’s especially afraid of looking face-to-face with everyone.

Instead of any of those options, the mysterious person speaks up, and he recognizes the voice a bit too well. “The fuck are you doing here?” his little sister complains before Mingyu turns his head to look at her.

“I should be asking you that. Also, be mindful and cover up!” He throws a pair of oven mitts at her, who was wearing nothing but Seungcheol’s oversized t-shirt.

“I would’ve put on some proper clothes, but no one is here except me and Cheol—until you showed up. He told me you were fucking some girl.”

“I didn’t even tell him that; he just assumed I did.” He fills the glass with tap water and takes a sip after speaking.

“So, where were you then?”

Right, she doesn’t know about you yet, and Mingyu doesn’t want to tell her at all. She’s practically another version of Seungcheol, and she’ll snitch to him—even though he’s already on his ass because of you.

“It’s not like you would care,” he deadpans.

“Yeah, you’re right. You probably just went out to drown yourself in alcohol—you reek of beer, by the way.”

“Whatever.” Mingyu leaves the kitchen and makes his way to his room. She’s not entirely wrong. He stayed in the parking lot for half an hour, drinking beer before he decided to sneak in.

Saturday rolls by, and you show up at the festival with your quartet. The field is covered with people, but there’s a decent amount, like most music festivals. The violinist had already gone off into the crowd—most likely to see her man. You’re 100% sure she was invited before you were since she brought it up to the other two before you could. Ryuwon thought this was a perfect time for the four of you to bond, and well, Yoonhee only agreed to come for the food. You want to say you’re here for the vibes and just to explore other artists, but honestly, you only came because Mingyu asked you to.

It was only just the three of you walking around, and in a crowd like this, you doubt you can find Mingyu anywhere. A jazz band was in the middle of performing, and you don’t know if a few bands had already passed or if this was the first band on stage. All you know is that his band is fifth in the line-up, so you’ll just have to wait for the announcement.

“I wonder why they didn’t invite us to perform. It’s literally in our name, Snow Swan,” Yoonhee pondered, looking at a pamphlet that was most likely about the festival.

"Well, there’s always next winter,” Ryuwon reasoned. She picked up a sample cup of hot chocolate from people handing it out and downed it in seconds. “For now, let’s just enjoy what it’s like to be the audience.”

The three of you were roaming around the field, visiting pop-up shops, vibing to the bands performing, and spending most of your time in the food stalls—mainly that last bit. As you were in the middle of eating a potsticker, you overheard a group of girls talking about Mingyu’s band and that they were going to make sure they got to see them up close when they performed. They ramble about how hot they look when they play and how they would love to be serenaded by them. Hah, if only they knew how miserable it feels to be tormented by them.

The fourth band finishes their performance by the time you finish your plate of potstickers, and the speaker announces that Cherry Bass will be up in less than five minutes. You hurry your way over to the stage, where there were hundreds of people piled up in front just to see Mingyu’s band perform. They were in the middle of preparing their instruments, as the audience was already getting ecstatic over them. You can barely see their faces from where you’re standing, and you doubt Mingyu can locate you.

Their drummer starts off their first song, and the crowd goes wild before they even start singing. Throughout the whole song, you can only hear Mingyu’s bass, despite him being the quietest out of all of them. The cellist in you can recognize his rhythm, his slap bass, his fingerstyle, and even his muting. There’s some groove to it and a bit of funk, but it’s still rock. You hate rock; you’ve always despised it. But the way Mingyu plays it has you thinking otherwise.

Why does he have to be a rock star? Why couldn’t he just play something normal like the double bass? He’s a stupid man who plays the bass; he just had to be a bassist. The rhythm is pounding—is it even the rhythm, or is your heart just beating really loud and fast? You spent the rest of the performance listening to their setlist, mainly focusing on Mingyu’s parts. You can’t lie; he is good at the bass, like he always says.

The band left the stage, and the majority of the audience disappeared too. “They were good,” the violinist comments, who was watching right next to you the whole time. Like you, she was gazing at her guitarist friend. You can tell she has no shame in their friendship and ignores the whole rivalry that surrounds them.

“Yeah, really good.” The two of you walked around the field, trying to find the other two while looking through some pop-up shops. One of the shops was selling tote bags, and they were selling a particular bag that was displaying a giant embroidered strawberry on both sides. You spent such a long time admiring the bag and considering buying it that you didn’t even notice someone was creeping up behind you.

“Hey pretty, long time no see,” Mingyu jokes. He eyes you, then the bag, then back to you. “Never thought you would show up, honestly.”

You put down the bag and began to walk away as Mingyu followed you from behind. “I never skip music festival days—unless it’s country, then that’s when I’ll dip.”

“Guess that’s a sign I shouldn’t switch to country.”

You both leave the tent, and to your surprise, flurries of snow start falling. It’s a beautiful sight, and you're glad you brought a scarf with you. “Hey, it’s snowing!” You exclaim, reaching your hand out to look at the intricate detail of each different snowflake. You admire each one of them as some fall on your hands again and the former ones melt away.

Mingyu ruffles your hair while he watches you admire the snowflakes. “You’re getting snow in your hair; you look like you have dandruff,” he jokes.

You bent down to grab snow from the ground and threw it at his face. “And you look like Frosty right now.” He wipes the snow off his face, and you both laugh it off. He gazes at you, who’s not even noticing that he’s looking at you while you’re busy laughing your ass off. You stop eventually, and somehow, you two make eye contact.

Neither of you is talking, and all you can ever hear is the pop band playing in the background.

‘If it’s okay with you, I think I’m gonna love you for a long time.’

You look into Mingyu’s eyes. He’s not saying anything, and you don’t think he’ll say a single word in the next minute. Look away, (Name), while you have the chance. This is odd, yet it feels so intimate.

To Mingyu, you look like a flock of doves or maybe a dancing swan. You’ve always looked pretty in his eyes, but today, it’s different. He can’t tell if it’s the way you styled your hair up, did your makeup simple, or the ivory outfit you picked out. But you look so beautiful that he feels he doesn’t deserve to look at you.

A smile creeps up on his face, and you scowl, lightly punching his shoulder after. “You weirdo! Don’t go silent on me like that.” All he responded was a chuckle, and you two walked into the crowd to listen to the band.

‘I think I’m gonna love you for my whole life.’

more from rhin, this is originally a spin off to an unreleased hhu band au (which is why the violinist and mg’s sister are unnamed bc they were supposed to ww’s and sc’s readers). i most likely won’t continue the other works since when i first came up with this idea, i used to be a violinist but i quit so i don’t remember anything abt the violin😭 this is actually my old writing style so i didnt even bother changing things other than fixing the grammar lmao. i hope u guys liked reading this as much i loved writing this!

svt masterlist .ᐟ

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