you're my bad desire

face sitting/riding, attempted 69-ing, fingering, unprotected sex, handjob, creampie, messy pussy eating (twice), squirting, ass slapping, doggy style, passionate sex, crying. (the smut is really just a bonus)

This is not a good look. Walking down the fourth floor hallway of the honors housing building barefoot with your tiny dress and your heels in your hand is definitely not a good look. You’re pretty sure the honors students are not impressed to see you in such little clothing on this bright Saturday morning but you can’t even bring yourself to give a damn. Your face is twisted into a scowl so severe that one guy carrying a basket of clothes actually steps aside to let you pass, your hair is still messy from last night and yesterday's mascara is faintly smudged beneath your eyes.

Saturday mornings on campus are always strange, especially in Jace's building, the residents here think they're so self righteous cause they've probably already gone for a jog, written three essays and finished a research paper and it's not even nine yet.

You can barely register any of it because you're too busy replaying last night in your head for the hundredth miserable time. The Friday night date you had been looking forward to had started out badly and ended up even worse, the guy, whose name you're sure your brain will repress, spent twenty minutes talking about cryptocurrency. And if that wasn't enough, when the bill came, he leaned back in his chair with this smug little grin and said, "So...am I paying for this just to not take you home after, or what?"

You physically shudder remembering it. God, men are actually sick in the head. Maybe you're actually sick in the head too cause humiliatingly—you followed him and now that the sun is out and you can think clearly you know it was just your horniness that drove you to such a terrible decision.

It had been weeks, maybe even months since you'd been in with anyone and after two drinks and one existential crisis in the restaurant bathroom mirror, you'd convinced yourself maybe the mediocre man deserved a chance.

What a mistake.

You feel irritation surge through your body all over again and by now you've reached Jace's door. Not even bothering to knock, you shove it open dramatically. "Jace, I swear to God I think it's finally time for me to try celibacy."

Jace is sat up in his bed in gray sweatpants and a compression shirt, glasses sliding down his nose as he looks up from his laptop to blink at you slowly. "Mmm? Why?"

You kick the door shut behind you, "Cause men are the worst and I'm tired of kissing so many frogs just because I want a prince!"

"Tell me more."

He says softly and sets his laptop aside as you dramatically throw yourself onto the end of his bed with a groan loud enough to let him know you're genuinely upset. You stare at the ceiling before you start ranting again. "First of all, he had the personality of a plastic spork and I'm not even joking, the conversation was so bad, like a solid three out of ten."

"This man," you continue, pointing accusingly at absolutely nothing, "had the audacity to insinuate that he would only pay for dinner if I was going home with him!"

Jace's eyebrows immediately pull together. "What? That's so messed up."

"Exactly." You sigh before sitting up abruptly again. "He said it like he thought it was charming and sexy too. Like I was supposed to giggle and throw my panties at him across the table."

You watch as Jace grimaces at your words, "Please tell me you didn't stay after he said that?"

Damn. How do you tell your best friend that not only did you stay you actually went home with this guy and had sex with him? If you could call that sex. "I was very horny, okay? I'm literally ovulating and I thought ugh maybe the sex could be good?" Yeah, that works.

"Oh come on, Y/n. You're better than that." He seems so disappointed in you that you have to try to ignore the fact that he even let the conversation get this far.

"And not to add to your disappointment but the sex absolutely sucked. Just added a body to my count and that brings me to a whoppingggg...two." You say and start giggling to yourself.

Jace lets out the most disbelieving laugh imaginable. "Oh my God."

"It was so bad, Jace. Like genuinely horrible. I've had more chemistry with self checkout machines." You’re glad that manages to get a startled laugh out of him. "He kept asking me if I liked that every three seconds."

If you'd just slow down to take a look at your best friend's face, you'd see a smirk you'd never seen before but of course you don't cause you're so mad at the whole situation, more at yourself too. "And then when I tried to like guide him a little?" You gesture wildly. "He got defensive."

"Hmm, defensive how?" He asks, eyeing you weirdly now. "Defensive like when I tried to guide his fingers to my actual clit he—"

Your words are cut off by the door swinging open and your irritation immediately flares at the sight of who is standing in the doorway, shifting your gaze back to the twin on the bed, you let out a groan of annoyance. "Seriously, Jake? Can you give us five minutes of peace?" you mutter, rolling your eyes toward the doorway, expecting to see Jace's twin brother hovering there with his usual grating smirk.

But instead the room just goes dead silent and curiosity forces you to actually look at the person standing in the threshold. You rake your eyes over him, ready to snap some insult about him intruding on your conversation but the words die in your throat. Because why is he standing there so confused and wearing his brother's clothes and carrying his textbooks?

Why is the custom silver bag chain you had to hunt down for Jace's birthday hanging from Jake's bag?

Your stomach drops in a sickening free fall sensation. If that's Jace...then who the hell are you sitting next to?

"What are you even talking about?" the twin standing in the door asks, his voice threaded with a weary frustration. He looks between you and the bed, his brow furrowing deeper. "Jake, I told you—I don't know how many times I have to say this—stay the hell out of my room when I'm not here. Why are you even here?"

You slowly turn your head to look at the person sitting on the bed and he's already watching you, his gaze no longer just amused, it's now sharp and terrifyingly aware of the fact that you have just realized exactly who he is. He's also completely dropped the persona of his brother he'd been carrying, there's something in the way his eyes can go from earnest and sweet just like his brothers to predatory so quickly.

This isn't the first time, maybe that's why you feel the sting that makes your vision blur with heat so quickly. Jake has made a sport of this, a twisted game of shadows where he slips into his brother's life just to see how long it takes for you to figure it out. But your anger isn't just directed at him this time around, it's the way he makes you feel so stupid you can't stand. You've known Jace for years, he's your best friend and yet you just laid your entire sexual history bare to a predator in a compression shirt because he mirrored an earnest tilt of the head and a quiet "Tell me more."

Jace lets out a breath that sounds more like a groan, "Jake," he says in a frustrated but practiced tone. "Get off my bed. Now."

Jake doesn't move immediately, still lingering in the dip of the mattress and watching the way your chest pants with outraged breaths. Only when Jace takes a step further into the room does Jake finally rise, moving with an infuriating lack of urgency and stretching in the mirror. You watch as his muscles pull taut against that borrowed shirt—Jace's shirt.

"Relax, professor. I'm leaving," Jake says, his voice losing the faux earnest quality he'd used to bait you just a moment ago. Now he's just Jake, arrogant and loud Jake. "Mom called. She wanted me to tell you that if you don't call her back by six to confirm for Sunday dinner, she's going to stop by your lab and embarrass you in front of your recluse friends."

"That could have been a text, Jake. A five second text. You didn't need to come here."

Jake tilts his head, a lazy, jagged grin cutting across his face. "I know," he smiles wider, the amusement dancing in his tone. "But where's the fun in a text? I prefer the personal touch."

He begins to move toward the door, his shoulder intentionally brushing yours as he attempts to pass. But then he stops and leans in, letting the heat radiate off his skin in a way that makes you want to scramble backward but you're pinned by the stupid audacity of his proximity.

His lips hover inches from the shell of your ear, dropping his voice into a low volume that Jace couldn't possibly catch over the sound of his own frustrated rustling.

"For what it's worth, baby doll," he breathes, "I could definitely get you off. And I promise you wouldn't have to show me where anything was. I'd find it just fine on my own."

You immediately recoil as if he's physically burned you, it’s like a violent shudder of disgust racks your frame. He doesn't even wait for your slap him or scream at him, he thinks the chuckle that lets out is enough and with that he walks out of the door, leaving the air behind him feeling way too overcharged.

You remain sat on the bed as your heart hammers unevenly against your ribs. Across the room, Jace is already moving, you notice his hands trembling slightly while he tries to set his textbooks down with a finality that suggests he's trying to ground himself.

It is a familiar but such an exhausting dance.

You and the Sim twins have been in each other’s lives since before you could even form any memories. Since you were born barely a week apart, you were raised as a collective—like a trio bound by the inseparable bond of your mothers. Your childhood photos are a blur of shared birthday cakes and matching grass stained knees in a suburban neighborhood that felt like it belonged to the three of you alone.

Jake is technically the older one by a mere four minutes, a fact he used to brag when you were younger but the order of birth was rendered irrelevant a long time ago by the overwhelming difference in their personalities. Jake has always been some kind of force of nature, you found him childish even back then, to you he vibrated with a restless energy that left everyone exhausted in his wake. By the time you were sixteen, the neighborhood had already collectively decided that Jace was the older one because he was the one who carried all the responsibility, the one who navigated the world with a quiet dignity while Jake was busy being a headache to his parents.

Now they have become the very definition of a cliché, they are two halves of a whole that refuse to touch. It's why Jace occupies this sterile sanctuary in the honors housing, where he’s surrounded by the scent of old ink and high expectations while Jake is deep in the trenches of his frat house across campus.

"I'm sorry," Jace says, his voice finally breaking the heavy silence. "I should have changed the code to the door. I told him last time he crashed here."

You swallow hard on the bile still sitting at the base of your throat. "Ugh, he’ll literally never change, he’s just the worst. He sat there and pretended to be you and listened to me talk about my date from last night!" You raise your voice but the genuine guilt on the familiar lines of Jace’s features makes the anger in your chest soften into a dull flickering. It's the same face you've turned to for comfort for two decades and yet for a fleeting moment on that bed, you still hadn't been able to tell the difference.

"What did he say to you?" Jace asks, his tone cautious as if he's afraid the answer will scare him. "At the end. Before he left."

You wave a hand dismissively like you’re trying to physically swat away the lingering vibration of Jake's voice in the room. "Nothing. Just him being the typical douchebag he's been since forever," you mutter, though the heat still throbbing in your neck tells a different story.

You've spent the better part of a decade perfecting the art of hating Jake Sim and by now it’s a necessary armor, a defense mechanism against the wild gravitational pull he exerts on everyone around him. But as you look at Jace, you're hit with the stinging irony of your own history.

Irony because before the hatred came, all you had for Jake was love. At six years old you were convinced you’d be marrying him and had scrawled Mrs. Jake Sim in the margins of your coloring books with a confidence that only a child can muster, fully believing that life would eventually find you in a white dress and a life spent chasing him.

That was, until the day he decided to bless you with your earliest and most vivid memory of him. You can still see him standing in the driveway of his family home, gap toothed with devilish grin on his face as he looked you dead in the eye and delivered a piece of information that shattered your world.

"You know you were supposed to have a twin too," he had said, his voice flat and terrifyingly casual for a six year old. "But you got so hungry, you ate her in your mommy's belly."

The trauma of that statement had sent you straight into an inconsolable grief that lasted for hours. You had cried until your chest ached, genuinely horrified by the monster Jake had told you that you were. And then, Jace appeared by your side with a half melted watermelon popsicle and a hand on your shoulder. He hadn't laughed at you or teased you, he did sit with you in the grass and told you it wasn't true, effectively choosing your side over his brothers before any of you could even realize what was happening. That was the day the pedestal for Jake crumbled and the one for Jace was built.

You look at Jace, seeing the way his eyebrows are still knit together in that worried arch. "I hate the fact that I still can't tell you two apart when he's playing his little games...it makes me want to scream."

Jace moves closer. "It's not your fault," he says softly while his eyes search yours. "He's spent twenty two years learning how to mimic me just to get under people's skin. Especially yours."

You quickly brush off his statement by bringing up something else. Jake does not get under your skin.

"You know, you really should swing by the apartment from time to time, Jace," you say, clearly trying to shift the focus. "Unless you want Jake and his frat bros to completely take it over. Your parents got it for both of you, after all."

Jace just shakes his head with a look of real burnout crossing his face. "I'd rather not," he admits, taking a seat at his desk. "I can't study with the smell of cheap beer and whatever bullshit he's invited over."

You notice he looks a little distressed, a little distracted even and you know it’s not just because of Jake. "Where were you anyway?" you ask, squinting at him. "You look like you got a B or something."

"I was just grabbing coffee," he says but then he pauses, only to whisper the other half of his sentence. "With Jungwon."

You practically squeal and the bad date along with Jake's creepy comments are momentarily forgotten as you lunge at him, grabbing his arm. "Oh my god! Tell me everything. I need all the details like right now!"

Jace sighs, looking down at his feet. "I don't know. I don't think he's even into guys."

You pull back to give him a look of total disbelief. "Are you kidding? Of course he is! He literally hooked up with Sunghoon—you know, Sunoo's ex? It was a whole thing last semester."

Jace laughs but it sounds a little forced. "That was just a rumor, Y/n. Nobody actually knows if that happened."

"If it was such a rumor, then why would Jungwon want to hang out with you so much...alone?" you counter with a stubborn cross of your arms. "Men don't just hang out that much without a reason."

Jace lets out a real laugh this time, shaking his head at your logic. "He's probably just trying to get closer to you," he says, his eyes fixed on yours for a second too long.

"What? That's ridiculous," you huff. "Who would go through all that effort just for me?"

Jace looks away with a certain smile on his lips as he mumbles under his breath, "You have noooo idea."

"It's not just Jungwon," he continues, his voice sounding small and a little tired. "You don't realize how many guys have pretended to be my friend just this year, hanging out in the lab, offering to help with my notes, only to eventually pivot the conversation to you. They all want to know what you like, if you're single or if I can put in a good word."

You stare at him, feeling a familiar ache in your chest again. While you're busy dealing with mid tier dates and Jake's constant nuisance, Jace is dealing with a different kind of problem.

Your mind drifts back to the summer after freshman year when you were home from college, sitting on the edge of your pool with your feet in the water in the humid night air. You'd always had a hunch, like a quiet feeling that Jace's lack of interest in the girls in your small town wasn't just about all his focus being on his studies. So when he finally told you he was gay, it felt like a missing piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place and you were just glad it only took one semester away from your hometown for him to feel safe enough to realize who he truly was.

But that safety is still such a fragile thing because no one else knows, not their parents and definitely not Jake. Jace is terrified of what their reaction would be, he’s worried that his family's approval, which is something he's worked so hard for with his honors status and exemplary accomplishments would vanish in an instant.

And that’s exactly why every time Jake makes a crude joke about you and Jace being a secret couple or asks if you're finally giving Jace some sugar, you just take it. You let it happen, either rolling your eyes or firing back a witty comment, just letting Jake believe whatever he wants because you’d much rather the world think you're sleeping with your best friend than risk unintentionally outing him before he's ready.

"I have some idea," you say softly, patting the space on his bed next to you so he comes over and sits with you. "But maybe Jungwon is different? Maybe he's the one who actually wants to know about you."

Jace offers a weak but hopeful smile, unfortunately it fades quickly when he speaks again. "Even if he did...what then? I'm not even out out yet, I’m literally pretending to be someone I'm not. It's a lot to ask of someone."

The contrast between them is enough to give you whiplash. It's always been this way and you hate how Jake gets to be the reckless one, living his life at full volume without a single care for the consequences. You can still remember the awkward silence of their hallway back in high school with the sound of girls leaving Jake's room in tears, his trail of broken hearts just another part of his bad boy charm. He's always been free to be exactly who he is, no matter how messy it gets.

And then there's Jace, who is ten times the man his brother is and he stays huddled in his shell, scared to death that being himself will cost him everything. It makes your chest tight with sadness. He's spent his whole life being the reliable twin just to keep the peace while Jake burns the house down and gets a pass for it.

But you don't let yourself linger on the pity for too long, you know Jace hates it when you get that look in your eyes so you shake your head and force a bright grin onto your face.

"Listen, the lit majors are throwing a party tonight," you say, turning to face him with a spark of excitement. "And I'm telling you, it's not like those sweaty, overcrowded frat parties on greek row where your brother hangs out. It's actually always chill from what I’ve heard. You should invite Jungwon. I'll be there the whole time, so you won't be alone."

Jace's eyes go wide and he immediately starts backing up toward his headboard. "No. No way. I can't just...ask him to a party. That's too much."

"Oh, shut up!" you yell, launching yourself off the bed and tackling him onto the mattress. He lets out a startled oof as you scramble to grab his phone from the desk. "Life is all about risks, Jace! You're going to be an old man wondering what if because you were too scared to send a blue bubble?"

"Y/n, give it back!" he pleads, laughing even as he tries to reach his phone first but you're faster, pinning his arm down with your knee and waving the phone triumphantly. "You'll never know if you don't try! Do you want to spend tonight staring at a textbook or staring at him?"

He groans, his face turning a deep shade of red but he finally stops fighting. "Fine! Fine, just give it here. I'll do it."

You hand the phone back with a satisfied smirk and watch over his shoulder as his thumbs hover nervously over the screen. After a long, shaky exhale, he taps the send button. "There," he says, sounding too breathless for someone who just sent a text. "It's sent. If he says no…just pray he doesn’t say no, Y/n."

The next minute is straight up torture. You and Jace kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed shoulder to shoulder, both of your gazes locked onto the dark screen of his phone praying to god Jungwon just replies now. When it finally vibrates, the notification banner pops up—

Jungwon: Sounds like fun, meet there?

You let out a deafening squeal, hauling yourself up on the bed to jump up and down it with enough force to make the springs groan. "Yes! Oh my god, Jace! He said yes!"

Jace stares at the screen having his mouth hanging open in sincere astonishment. "Wait, no way," he whispers, locking and opening his phone again as if he expects the text to disappear. "No way he actually wants to go."

"What do you mean no way?" you say, dropping back down and shaking his shoulder. "Jace, look at yourself. You're literally so hot! You're going to go to that party and give him that good dick." The words are out of your mouth before you can filter them and for a split second, you freeze. You stop jumping and look at him with a dead serious expression. "Wait...are you a top or a bottom?"

Jace's face turns to a beautiful red and he buries his face in his hands, letting out a muffled, embarrassed groan. "I don't know! God, Y/n, let me actually kiss a guy first before I have to figure all that out!"

He starts to laugh, the tension finally breaking as he sits on the bed and leans back on his elbows. He looks at you with a cheeky twinkle in his eyes that is usually reserved for his brother. "You know, if you think I'm so hot, that means you also think Jake is hot."

The way your smile instantly vanishes is almost comical, you scowl at him. "No. Absolutely not. That is completely different."

"How?" Jace asks, grinning now because he knows he's got you. "We're identical, remember? Same face, same hair, same everything."

"That doesn't matter," you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. "Being hot also involves having a personality and yours doesn't make me want to walk into oncoming traffic. Jake's does."

Jace laughs so hard, he's clutching his stomach and falling back onto the bed. "Hmmm, you didn't think that when you were six though," he teases, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I remember you specifically calling yourself Mrs. Jake Sim over and over, just so nobody would accidentally think you were talking about me."

"Shut up!" you yell and grab a small paperback from his nightstand to chuck at his head. He ducks just in time and the book thudding harmlessly against the wall. "I told you that in confidence, you jerk!"

Your fake anger fades quickly because you feel determined to help your best friend. "Okay, enough of that. We need a game plan," you say standing up and heading straight for his closet. "By the end of tonight, I want you tongue deep in Jungwon's mouth."

Jace winces at your words and a bashful look crossing his face. "Could you maybe...not put it like that? Please?"

Ignoring his plea, you start flicking through his hangers, tossing aside his more boring, oversized sweaters. "If we're doing this, we're doing it right. You need to look like the honors student of his dreams but you know? Approachable."

As you sift through a row of button downs, you look over your shoulder at him. "So, what is it anyway? What do you actually like about Jungwon?"

Jace quietens down and you can almost sense his expression softening into something genuine and vulnerable without even looking at him again. You can bet he's staring at his hands. "He's just...he's really observant," he says softly. "Most people just see the smart twin or the quiet one but when Jungwon talks to me, it's so different. You know he didn't even know I was a twin? He makes me feel like I'm actually being seen for who I am, not just what I am."

You stop moving just to coo at him. "Awwww Jacieee, that is literally the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Okay, now I'm even more committed. We are finding you the perfect outfit."

‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

The rooftop of the english building is alive with low indie music and the soft glow of string lights but Jace is currently vibrating at a frequency that might actually shatter glass. He is shaking so hard you can feel the tremors coming off him in waves.

"I can't do this," he hisses, his face is slick with a layer of nervous sweat that the cool night air isn't helping. He reaches for the buttons of the jacket you spent twenty minutes picking out, his fingers fumbling. "It's too hot. I'm leaving. I'm going to go home and solve some differential equations."

"Jace, stay still," you whisper, swatting his hands away from his clothes. "You look incredible. Stop trying to undress! Someone will see!"

"Why are you so nervous anyway? You've hung out with him plenty times." You're genuinely trying to understand your best friend.

"Yes! But this is the first time I did the asking!" He whisper yells. "My socks," he groans, leaning in close so only you can hear his crisis. "Y/n, they're soaked. My feet are literally swimming in sweat. It's disgusting. I'm going to slip in my own shoes and fall on him."

You open your mouth to say ew and tell him that is way more information than you needed but the heavy metal door to the rooftop creaks open.

"Oh, you're here?"

Jungwon walks in, looking effortlessly cool in a loose cardigan. He blinks and a small smile forms when he sees the two of you. "Hey, Y/n. It's nice to see you again."

"Hi, Jungwon!" you say in a tone that's a little too bright. You give Jace a sharp shove with your elbow, nearly knocking the wind out of him so he's forced to acknowledge the guy.

"H-hi," he manages but his voice a little higher than usual it makes you want to cringe and coo at the same time—poor Jace.

Jungwon gestures toward the music and the crowd of lit majors. "You guys want to move over there? It's actually not too crowded near the edge."

"Oh! You know what?" You take a dramatic step backward, checking your phone as if you just got a life altering text. "I think I see...my friend? Over there? Yeah, I definitely have to go talk to her. It's a whole thing."

Before Jace can grab your arm and drag you back into his panic, you've already started backing away and as soon as Jungwon turns his back to lead Jace toward the far corner, you catch Jace's wide and comically terrified eyes. You mouth the words calm down with exaggerated lip movements, then proceed to wrap your arms around yourself to make a ridiculous show of making out with the air to remind him what the end goal is even sticking your tongue out at flicking it for good measure.

Jace looks like he wants to die on the spot but he takes a shaky breath and follows Jungwon further into the party.

The second they walk away leaving you standing alone at the door, the adrenaline fades and the reality of your situation finally sets in. You look around the rooftop and realize that while the vibes are great, you don't actually know a single person here. You're the engineering and fanfiction girl in a sea of people debating the symbolism of some nineteenth century poetry.

So to avoid looking like a total loser, you pull out your phone and start scrolling through old texts, pretending to be deeply engaged in a conversation with absolutely no one. You're just about to consider making a break for the exit when a familiar voice cuts through the indie folk music.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

You look up and you're instantly relieved to see a familiar face—Sloane, a girl you spent three grueling weeks with last year trying to finish a group project for an elective class.

"Sloane! Hey!" You tuck your phone away, happy to have a human shield. You exchange the usual pleasantries, asking about her classes and how her pet hamster is doing. But then she randomly tilts her head and looking around. "Who did you come with? I didn't think this was really your scene," she asks with a friendly grin.

"I came with Jace," you say, nodding toward the corner where you can just barely see the back of Jace's head near Jungwon.

Sloane's eyes go wide and she beams making her whole face light up. "Really? Oh my god! Jungwon is going to be so excited!"

You feel your heart skip a beat but you lean in anyway cause your internal gossip radar pinging at max volume. "Really? Why?"

"Are you kidding?" Sloane whispers, leaning closer like she's sharing a secret. "Jungwon has had this cute little crush on Jace forever. He's been trying to figure out how to tell him for months but he was worried Jace was way too into his books to notice him."

You let out a loud gasp and grab Sloane by her arm maybe too hard. "Really?! Jace likes Jungwon too! They're literally over there together right now. That's why I'm standing here all by myself—I am the ultimate wingwoman!"

"No way!" Sloane squeals, mirroring your excitement.

In an instant, the two of you have completely abandoned any sense of cool lit major chill and now you're just two girls huddled in the corner of the roof, squealing and gushing over how perfect they are for each other, occasionally peeking over your shoulders to see if any progress is being made.

"Do you know Jace was literally vibrating. I had to tackle him and steal his phone just to get him to send the text. He was convinced Jungwon wouldn't be into him," you laugh, shaking your head as you rest against the rooftop railing.

Sloane cackles and nearly spilling her drink. "Are you serious? I was sitting with Jungwon for at least twenty minutes trying to convince him that his text wasn't too thirsty. He was so worried he sounded like he was trying too hard!"

The coincidence is almost too much to handle and when you both turn your heads at the same time to peek over towards the edge of the roof, you see Jace and Jungwon tucked away in a pair of mismatched lawn chairs in the corner, far away from the thickest part of the crowd.

Jace must have finally stopped sweating through his socks because you catch a glimpse of him saying something with that softly sincere look he gets when he's actually comfortable. Whatever he says absolutely works because Jungwon throws his head back and laughs, the string lights catch the bright spark in his eyes and Jace doesn't look away, it's like he can't, so he just watches him with a hopeful expression that makes your heart swell so much you think it could burst any moment.

"They are going to be the cutest couple on this entire campus," Sloane gushes as she clutches her chest. Then, her expression shifts slightly and she lets out a little sigh mixed with a laugh. "It's so crazy how different Jace is from his twin. I saw Jake at a party last week and...yeah. Night and day."

You immediately roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. "Tell me about it," you groan as the image of Jake smirking on Jace's bed flashing through your mind. "Living with that guy's ego is like living next to a literal sun. He's exhausting but he's always been a total hazard."

"I heard he got banned from the library for a semester because he yelled out some obscenity his frat bros dared him to," Sloane whispers.

"That sounds like him," you mutter, glancing back at Jace who is still looking at Jungwon like he's the only person on the roof. "I honestly don't know how they share dna. Jace has the soul of a poet and Jake...Jake has the soul of a frat boy who thinks body spray is a substitute for a shower."

You start praying the topic randomly changes but instead your heat drops straight to your ass at Sloane's next words, "Oh, speak of the devil."

You turn your back to see what she's referring to and there he is, at the makeshift bar. Jake is leaning against a table and deep in conversation with some girl who looks like she's already falling for his usual routine. A wave of nausea hits you because the last thing tonight needs is Jake spotting Jace and Jungwon together, you know he's either going make a scene or find a way to ruin the moment with one of his personal jokes and Jace would probably never recover from the embarrassment.

You feel the panic rising in your chest but when you whip your head back toward the lawn chairs, the corner is empty. Before you can freak out, your phone vibrates in your hand. It's a text from—

Jace: We're heading back to my dorm. I think it's going well? See you later!

You shove the screen in front of Sloane's face and the moment she reads his text, the two of you let out another synchronized squeal. It's the ultimate victory because they left before Jake could see them.

Unfortunately, that squeal acts as a homing beacon for the one person you wanted to avoid. You can practically feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up as his familiar presence closes in and the air suddenly smells like that expensive cologne he uses to hide the fact that he probably hasn't done laundry in weeks. He completely misses the sight of Jace and Jungwon slipping through the rooftop door because his focus entirely on you.

"Well, well," Jake says in a tone that makes your skin crawl, he immediately steps into your space and ignores the way you stiffen. He lets his eyes travel down your outfit with that same look from earlier when you were giving him all the details of your sex life. "That's a very pretty dress, baby doll. What aisle of the candy store did you come from? Cause you look incredibly sweet tonight."

You scowl and let your face twist in disgust at his stupid words. "That is the worst line I have ever heard, Jake. Seriously, stop."

He doesn't even flinch at your rejection because by now your harsh words have no effect on him.

"And hello to you too, Sandra," he says smoothly.

Sloane's smile drops instantly. "It's Sloane, Jake. We had a class together for an entire semester."

Jake just shrugs, completely unbothered by the fact that he doesn't know her name and indirectly embarrassed her. "Sloane, Sandra...both beautiful, just like you. What's the difference?" He counters before turning back to you. "So, where's my boring other half? I figured if you were here, he'd be trailing behind you like a lost puppy."

"He's not here, Jake. And for the record, you are the boring one," you snap and hitch your bag higher on your shoulder. "I'm actually leaving. Why are you even here? Lit majors don't care for people like you."

Even with that, he still manages to smirk and jerk his thumb back at the girl he was talking to by the bar, a girl who is currently watching him with an expectant, slightly dazed look. "Oh, you know me," he says crudely in a way that makes you envision slapping him already. "Figured I'd try out some lit major pussy for the first time. See if they really are as deep as they pretend to be."

He even puts on this fake, wide eyed look and clutches his chest, acting like he's nervous for a big exam or something. "Think I'll pass, baby doll?"

This time, you don't even give him the satisfaction of a verbal comeback but you do give him the most disgusted look you can muster and turn on your heel, heading straight for the rooftop exit. You can hear Sloane saying a quick goodbye behind you but your main goal is putting as much distance between yourself and Jake as possible.

Except, he doesn't stay put or go back to the girl waiting for him at the bar.

"Hold on for a sec."

"Go away, Jake!" you yell over your shoulder as you hit the stairwell.

"Wait up, I'm serious," he says and his footsteps come heavier and faster behind you but you keep moving, clattering down the stairs in your platform slippers, he's incredibly persistent though. And by the time you reach the second floor landing, his tone has shifted. The teasing layer is gone and he's suddenly being weirdly flat and intense. "Y/n, stop. I actually have something important I need to ask you. Just...hold on."

You're able to make it all the way to the ground floor, your hand already on the heavy metal handle of the building's exit. You're ready to burst out into the night air and bolt but Jake is right there, reaching his hand over your head to hold the door shut.

"I'm not joking, listen to—"

You've turned to him to scream for him to leave you alone but you notice his whole body tense up and he stops mid sentence. He's looking through the glass pane of the windows by the door at the shadows of the bike racks just outside.

"What the fuck?" Jake breathes in a deep exhale.

Your heart stops when you look to see what he's looking at because there, under the yellow hum of a streetlamp, Jace has Jungwon pressed back against one of the metal racks, his hands cupping the other boy's face with a desperate type of hunger. They're kissing, scratch that, they're making out and Jace looks more alive than you've ever seen him.

The silence in the stairwell is so consuming as Jake stares at his identical twin with a look of utter shock.

The second the shock wears off and his face hardens into something unreadable, Jake doesn't hesitate, immediately lunging for the door. You scramble after him with your heart lodged in your throat and grab his arm with both hands, trying to anchor him to the spot.

"Jake, stop! Please, just leave them alone!" you plead, your voice cracking as the first sting of tears hits your eyes. "Don't ruin this for him. Just walk away, please."

He doesn't even look at you, jerking his shoulder so rough it shoves you off, you stumble back against the cold brick wall of the stairwell, watching helplessly as he hurls the door open and storms into the night. You're already crying from a mix of terror for Jace and a burning hatred for the man currently charging toward the bike racks.

"Jake, no!" you gasp, rushing out behind him as fast as your slippers will let you but you're too late.

"What the fuck, Jace?!" Jake's voice booms through the quiet courtyard, making Jace and Jungwon spring apart, their breathing heavy and their faces flushed, only for Jace's to go deathly pale the moment he sees his brother standing there. He looks like he just got punched in the stomach, his hands immediately start trembling near Jungwon's shoulders as he stares at his brother.

"Jake..." Jace's voice is barely audible.

"Are you serious right now?" Jake steps closer, his posture aggressive and looming. "You're gay? You've been playing this whole honors student part while you're out here kissing dudes? Lying to our parents?" Jake goes on and on.

"So all those girls you liked but never dated in high school were just cover ups, right?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

You finally reach them and throw yourself between the twins, pressing your hands against Jake's chest to shove him back. "Jake, shut up! Stop it right now!" you sob, willing your vision to stop blurring with tears. "This isn't the time or place. Leave him alone!"

But Jake doesn't budge, he's just a wall of muscle and misplaced anger now, looking over your head to stare directly into his brother's terrified eyes. Jace is frozen, too shocked to even defend himself because his worst nightmare unfolding in the middle of a campus sidewalk while Jungwon stands there, looking back and forth between the identical faces in total confusion.

You really have no idea how Jace will react, what he will say so you're shocked when he laughs but it sounds so bitter. He looks at the brother who shares his exact face but none of his heart and his eyes turn to ice.

"Wow," Jace spits. "You find out your brother is gay and your first instinct isn't to wonder why I was too scared to tell you. It's to accuse me of living a lie because it bruises your pathetic ego."

"You truly are a vile excuse for a human being, Jake. I've spent twenty two years sharing your face and every day I wake up wishing I could tear it off just so I don't have to look like someone so completely devoid of anything decent. You're not my fucking brother. You're just a mistake that happened four minutes before me."

Before Jake can even blink or think of anything to say, Jace grabs Jungwon's hand and pulls him into a run, disappearing into the shadows of the campus buildings.

"Jace! Wait!" You scream in a sob, trying to go after them but your foot catches on the edge of the bike rack and go down hard, scraping the skin right off your knees against the pavement.

The pain is sharp and hot and as you wince, Jake reaches down with shaking hands trying to grab your shoulders. "Shit! Y/n, let me—"

"Don't you fucking touch me!" you shriek, shoving his hands away with enough force to make him stumble. You scramble to your feet, simultaneously ignoring the blood beginning to trickle down your legs.

Blinded by rage and heartbreak for your best friend, you launch yourself at his brother, slamming your palms into his chest. You hit him, slap at his arms in wild movements fueled by a lifetime of suppressed anger. "You want to know why your brother never told you?!" you yell, the sound echoing off the brick walls. "It's because you're a selfish, black hearted asshole!" One of your slaps lands directly on his cheek.

"You're so fucking obsessed with yourself that you couldn't let him have one goddamn second of happiness without making it about your own confusion. You are the reason he's been living in a cage, Jake! He's terrified of you because everything you touch turns to rot and he didn't want you rotting this, too!"

You shove him one last time, your voice dropping to a hiss. "You're like this shadow he's been trying to outrun since we were kids. I hate you. I think I've always hated you."

Jake's face contorts when the words hit his ears, his jaw tightens as he stares at you with a look that's both furious and heartbroken at the same time. "You don't mean that," he growls but his voice cracks. "You're just upset because you're bleeding and tired. You don't actually hate me."

You let out a harsh laugh right in his face, "Oh, I fucking mean it, Jake! I mean every single word. Do you really think anyone loves the real you? People like the idea of you. They like the guy who buys the drinks and throws the parties, the guy who has no problem spending his daddy’s money on them but the second the lights go up and they see the shallow hollow mess underneath, they all run."

You step closer, ignoring the stinging in your knees to look him dead in the eye. "It is honestly fucking ridiculous how much you pride yourself on being the better twin. Look at Jace. He's so kind, so brilliant and so capable of caring about someone other than himself. And you’re just a cheap copy of a much better man."

"Stop it, Y/n," he mutters but you can see his hands shaking at his sides.

"Why should I? It's the truth!" you laugh again. "Isn't it just so crazy? You walk around acting like you're the prize but the only thing actually good about you is the fact that you share half your dna with Jace. Without him to balance you out, you're just a hedonistic frat guy with a pretty face that nobody is going to want to look at in five years. You're nothing, Jake. You're less than nothing."

You turn your back on him and every step is a sharp reminder of the gravel now embedded in your skin. You limp away, the salt from your tears stinging the small cuts in your palm as you wipe your tears. Crying because the secret your best friend spent years protecting was ripped open in the most violent way possible.

Somehow you’re not surprised when Jake gets in his car and starts creeping along the curb beside you.

He rolls the passenger window down. "Y/n, please just get in the car," he calls out to you in a frustrated but also strangely concerned tone. "Your knees are literally dripping blood. Just get in. I'll just drop you off, I swear I won’t say a thing."

"I'd rather get abducted and sold into human trafficking than sit in a confined space with you," you say without even looking at him.

He huffs and actually pulls over to hop out of the car. He tries to reach for your elbow lightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slap him again.

"Come on, you're shaking. You can barely stand. Let me just help you walk? Or at least let me hold you up until we get to the dorms."

You recoil as if his skin is made of fire, nearly losing your balance. "Please don’t touch me, Jake. I’m so tired of you."

He looks at you with wide eyes wide, trying to coax you with that soft, manipulative tone he always uses to get his way. "Baby doll, look at me. I fucked up, okay? I'm an asshole, I’m everything you said and you’re so right about me. But don't hurt yourself more just to spite me. Please."

You ignore him, focusing only on the rhythm of your limp and when he finally gets the hint, he gets back into his car and just drives slowly behind you. The whole twenty minute walk to the honors housing—he’s right behind you, lighting the road with his headlights until the brick facade of the honors housing building comes into view and you limp all the way into it. That’s when he finally floors it, the screech of his tires echoes through the empty street as he speeds off into the night.

The walk up the stairs is a special kind of hell, every step upward pulls at the scabs already forming on your knees and by the time you reach Jace's door, you're lightheaded from the pain but you still knock and wait.

When the door swings open, the sight breaks what's left of your heart. Jace looks absolutely destroyed, his eyes are swollen and bloodshot, his face is an angry red from crying. Behind him, Jungwon is sitting at the desk with his head in his hands, looking so small and upset that he looks like he's on the verge of a breakdown himself.

"Oh, Jace," you whisper, your voice breaking. "I'm so, so sorry."

You reach forward and wrap your arms around his middle and pulling him close. He immediately collapses into you, burying his heavy weight into you as he lets out a sob into your shoulder and all you can do is just hold him, whispering apologies over and over into his hair as he finally lets the terror of the night out.

The sound of Jungwon clearing his throat reaches you through the wet sounds of Jace's sobbing. Jace pulls back just enough to look toward the desk, his hands still clutching the sleeves of your cardigan as if he might fall over if he lets go. Jungwon stands up cautiously, with so much quiet sadness in his eyes for the boy who just had his entire world dismantled on a sidewalk.

"I'm going to head out," Jungwon says, his voice steady despite the visible tremor in his hands. He walks over, stepping into the small circle of light near the door and reaches out to gently take one of Jace's hands. "Listen, Jace. I really like you, like…a lot. That hasn't changed because of...anything that happened tonight."

Jace lets out a shaky breath, searching Jungwon's face for any sign of pity or regret but all he finds is only warmth.

"I understand if this is going to slow things down for us," Jungwon continues, stroking the back of Jace's knuckles with his thumb. "I know this is a lot. It's huge. And I'm ready to wait until you have it all figured out with your family and your brother. You don't have to rush into anything for me."

Your heart literally aches in your chest at his words. It feels so unfair that after finally finding someone who sees him for who he truly is, Jace has to put his happiness on hold because of Jake's selfishness. They shouldn't have to wait, they should be allowed to just be two college students enjoying a night out, not navigating a family crisis.

Jungwon leans in then, cupping Jace's tear stained face and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before moving down to his lips. It's a quiet kiss but it’s so full of a promise that isn't going anywhere.

"Please don't cry anymore," Jungwon whispers against his skin. "I'll text you tomorrow, okay? Just breathe."

With one last supportive squeeze of Jace's hand, he gives you a quick hug and slips out the door. The click of the lock seems to echo in the sudden silence of the room and Jace stands there for a moment, staring at the wood of the door, looking smaller and more fragile than you've ever seen him in all the years you've been friends.

The adrenaline that kept you walking through the pain finally vanishes and leaves both of you standing in the middle of the room, with broken hearts and bleeding knees, wondering how everything went so wrong so fast. You sit on the bed and when he follows suit, you immediately reach for his hand.

"I hate him so much," he whispers and you almost catch the words so over the hum of the air conditioner.

He twists his hands together over and over. "I hate that I share his face. I hate that I have to look in the mirror every morning and see the person who just destroyed the only thing that made me feel like I wasn't just a collection of grades and expectations."

When he abruptly turns to face you, his knee bumps yours and you gasp in pain, making him look down. "Oh fuck. Y/n, your knees," he breathes, his own grief momentarily eclipsed by horror. "Did he—Did Jake do that to you?"

"No," you say, your voice cracking as you look down at all the dried blood. "I fell trying to catch up to you. He tried to help, but I wouldn't let him."

Jace pulls himself together enough to stand up and grab his first aid kit from under the bed. He's always prepared like that—the exact opposite of Jake, who probably doesn't even own a band aid. He kneels on the floor, his hands still a little shaky as he begins to gently dab at the gravel and dried blood on your knees with an antiseptic wipe.

"He's going to tell them, isn't he? He's going to tell our parents. He can't keep a secret to save his life, especially not one that makes him feel like he has leverage."

You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, trying to provide him with some kind of anchor in the middle of his storm. "If he does, we'll handle it. But Jace, look at what Jungwon said. He's staying. You're not alone in this anymore."

"I really just wanted one thing for myself," Jace sighs, continuing to clean your wounds. "Just one part of my life that wasn't shadowed by him or lived for someone else's approval. And he took it. He took it and he made it ugly."

He takes a cotton ball soaks with some rubbing alcohol. "This is gonna hurt," he murmurs but you can tell he's the one trying to focus.

"Forget that," you say even though you nearly scream when the ball hits your raw skin. "Talk to me about the rooftop. Before the disaster happened...how was it? Tell me everything about you and Jungwon."

Jace pauses with a mew cotton ball in his hand and for a second the devastation in his expression lifts. A shy smile breaks through his tear stained face and he ducks his head, looking down at your knees to hide his expression.

"I really, really like him, Y/n," he admits with a voice that has lost that jagged edge of despair. "He's so easy to talk to. We sat there for an hour just talking about movies and his architecture stuff and it felt like...I don't know, like I didn't even have to filter myself."

"I knew it!" you chirp, trying to keep the mood light. You lean back on your elbows, completely forgetting the throbbing in your legs. "So, come on, give me the details. Who initiated the kiss? Was it you, Mr. risk taker?"

Jace's entire face turns a beautiful shade of pink, the blush spreads all the way to the tips of his ears. "No," he mumbles, carefully placing a large bandage over your right knee. "It was Jungwon but…it wasn't even like it came out of nowhere. I—uh I kind of walked right into it."

"Explain. Now."

He lets out this sheepish laugh as he pulls out another bandage. "He asked me why I was shaking so much, if I was just cold or something. And I meant to say I was just a little overwhelmed, but my brain kinda did this weird thing. I looked at him and said yeah, well, hot guys make me nervous."

You let out a scream, even though Jace groans in embarrassment. "You didn't!"

"I did," he says, hiding his face in his hands for a second. "I realized what I said immediately and wanted to sink into the ground but he just laughed and told me I was plenty hot too, then he just...kissed me. I swear it was the best four minutes of my life, Y/n. Until I heard Jake's voice."

He sighs but the blush is still there like a small flicker of warmth in the middle of a cold night. "At least I know it's real. Jake might’ve ruined the moment but it doesn’t take away the fact that Jungwon called me hot."

Jace's hands go still as he finishes taping the final bandage. The brief smile vanishes as he stares at the floor. "I should probably tell my parents before Jake can get to them. I need to be the one to say it." Jace says quietly.

"You're right," you agree, nodding firmly despite the exhaustion deep in your bones. "He could do it tomorrow when he drives back for that dinner. You just have to get there first. Go before Jake even has a chance to pull into the driveway."

Jace looks up at you with pleading vulnerable eyes. "Will you come with me? Please? I don't think I can stand in that house and face them—or him—alone."

You feel a physical wave of revulsion hit you at the mere thought of being near Jake again. "Jace, I love you," you say. "You know I'd do almost anything for you. But I don't think I can see Jake right now. To be honest, after all the things I said to him tonight? I think I’ll just make things worse. If I see his face, I'm going to start screaming again and that's the last thing you need during a family talk."

Jace sighs and his shoulders slump but he nods in understanding. He knows you're right, the air between you and his twin is currently pure poison.

"I get it," he agrees, rubbing his tired eyes. "I just...I don't know how I'm going to look at him without thinking about how he tried to ruin the best thing that's happened to me in years."

"You won't look at him," you say, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "You'll look at your parents, you'll tell your truth and then you'll remember that Jungwon is waiting for you back here. Jake is just noise, Jace. Loud, very selfish noise."

Jace rests his heavy head on your thighs, finally letting his muscles relax as you slowly run your fingers through his hair. He lets out a long, shaky sigh that seems to vibrate against your legs, the quiet of the dorm room is finally settling in around you when he suddenly blurts something out.

"It was so hot, Y/n."

You pause your hand in his hair cause you’re startled by the jarring shift in his tone. He's staring at the wall now, even though his head is still in your lap, you can see his face warming in a way that puts his earlier blush to shame.

"I was literally trying so hard not to moan when he grabbed the back of my neck," he confesses, in both awe and embarrassment. "And then... I totally popped a boner. I'm so sure he felt it, too."

A laugh slips out of you but Jace isn't finished, groaning and burying his face deeper into your lap. "The whole time, that comment you made about who was going to be the top or the bottom just kept looping in my head," he mumbles, his voice muffled. "I was standing there thinking—Oh gosh, if things actually get that far tonight, what am I even doing? Am I topping? Am I bottoming?—I didn't even have a plan for that part of the game plan."

"Jace!" you gasp, all delighted that he's finally sharing the scandalous details. "Not the full on identity crisis in the middle of a make out session." You laugh harder.

"I couldn't help it!" he defends himself, peeking up at you with a pout. "I was too focused on not passing out from how good he tasted that when my brain started asking about logistics, my body panicked."

Despite the tragedy of the night, seeing your best friend this flustered over the actual mechanics of his crush makes him feel a little more like the Jace you know—always overthinking everything, including the best kiss of his life.

"Since you were so focused on not passing out...what did he actually taste like?" You ask, giving his hair a playful little tug to pull him out of his spiral,

Jace goes quiet for a second, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling as he actually takes a moment to process the memory. A foggy look washes over his face and he lets out an almost mortified little laugh before looking back at you.

"Like peaches and cream," he whispers so innocently.

The silence in the room hangs for exactly half a second before you both burst into a fit of laughter, your shoulders shaking so hard it jars your injured knees. "Peaches and cream?!" you shriek, clutching your stomach. "Jace, oh my god. That is the corniest, fanfiction level thing I have ever heard in my life!"

"I'm serious!" he protests, making his face turn an even darker shade of red as he tries to hide his smile. "He had this lip balm on or maybe it was his drink, I don't know! It was sweet and soft and that's just what came to mind."

"You are such a hopeless romantic," you tease, wiping a stray tear of laughter from your eye. "Peaches and cream. Next, you're going to tell me his eyes were shimmering like the morning dew or something."

"Shut up," he makes like he’s going to hit your knee before shoving his face back into your lap to hide his grin. "I can't help it if the guy tastes like a dessert."

"A dessert you wanna devour," you tease making him shake his head from side to side like he’s trying to shake out the image you’ve put in his head.

As you sit there stroking Jace's hair, his comments fade into the background of your mind and a bitter taste of old memories take their place. This isn't the first time Jake has taken a moment of joy and turned it into something horrible. He's been a horrible person since you've known him, always needing to be the loudest and cruelest person in the room.

Your mind drifts back to junior prom. Jace had asked you to be his date, promising and swearing on heaven and earth that it wasn’t out of pity but because you were best friends and he genuinely wanted to spend the night with you. At the time, your skin was a constant map of acne and your mouth was a mess of metal braces. You felt like a project, instead of a princess but your mom had found a soft, shimmering baby pink dress that made you feel almost pretty and Jace had carefully pinned a corsage to your wrist that matched the fabric perfectly.

The three of you were standing in the foyer of the Sim house, their mom was fussing with a camera and beaming about how handsome her boys looked and how lovely you were. Jace was smiling at you, making you feel like an actual princess, like you actually belonged in a ballroom.

Then Jake opened his mouth, you remember how he leaned against the banister and looked you up and down with a sneer that almost made you start shaking. "Wow, mom," he'd dragged out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I didn't know the local zoo was doing a shave the sheep fundraiser tonight. Is that why she's wearing so much glitter? To distract us from the fact that her dress is holding on for dear life? Honestly, Jace, I know you're the charitable twin but taking the before picture to prom is a new low even for you."

You remember how the room had gone deathly silent, Mrs Sim had gasped and Jace had immediately started shouting at his brother but the damage was done. Every time you looked in the mirror after the dance, all you saw was the before picture. Your confidence had plummeted drastically after that, if Jake thought he’d just ruined your night, he was wrong cause he’d managed to ruin your body image perception for years. All because he couldn't stand to see someone else—especially his boring brother—being happy.

Looking down at Jace now, you realize he's been fighting the same monster his whole life. Jake doesn't just ruin nights—he ruins the people themselves.

The memory of that night still leaves a sour feeling in the pit of your stomach, even years later. Mrs Sim hadn't let it slide though, the second those words left Jake's mouth, her face had turned a shade of red that rivaled your own blush and she had immediately grounded him for the next month, stripping away his car keys right there in the foyer. But the discipline didn't matter to you then because the sting of his words had already sunk in too deep.

Jace had been so patient with you that night, his hands hovering near your shoulders as you stood by the front door with tears threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n, don't cry," he had begged, his voice soft and desperate. He wasn't being dismissive, he was trying to save the one thing he knew you'd spent hours on. "If you start now, it'll ruin your makeup and you looked so happy when you finished it. Don't let him take that away from you. You look so beautiful, I swear it."

He had spent the next twenty minutes distracting you with stupid jokes until your breathing finally evened out, showing the same kind of protective loyalty he still shows today. It's a pattern you recognize now—Jace spending his life trying to patch up the holes Jake rips into people. You continue to rub your hand through his hair, realizing that while your appearance has changed a lot since that prom, the dynamic between the three of you hasn't shifted an inch. Jake is still the wrecking ball and Jace is still the one left standing in the debris with you.

The rest of the weekend felt like a heart wrenching countdown, you hadn't even bothered going back to your own room that Friday night, crashing on Jace's bed right next to him seemed like the appropriate thing to do, the two of you talked in exhausted murmurs until the early hours of the morning.

When his alarm went off at exactly six in the morning, the room was still gray and Jace was a ghost of himself, pale and agonizingly silent as he threw a few things into his duffel bag. He had to beat Jake and be the one to set the narrative before his brother could twist it into something ugly. You watched from the window as his car pulled out of the lot and his taillights disappeared into the morning mist, then you spent the next three hours pacing your own dorm room, completely unable to sit still.

Then when your phone buzzed with a video call request from Jace, you swiped with a shaky hand to see him sitting at his parent's kitchen table. The camera was propped up against a fruit bowl or something, giving you a clear view of both him and his parents even though he was a little cut off, you could tell they were concerned but trying to keep calm. Jace's face was a mess, his eyes were already rimmed with red and his hands were shaking so violently on the tabletop that he had to clasp them together.

"Mom...Dad..." His voice was a thin thread that threatened to snap at any second. "I...I have to tell you something. I've been...so scared to say it because I didn't want anything to change but I can't keep it inside anymore. I'm...I'm gay."

The silence on the other end of the line felt like it lasted a century, it lasted so long that Jace let out a sob that sounded like he was choking and dropping his head as he waited for the blow to fall, like he was waiting for his life to officially be over.

But that never came.

You saw his mother immediately stand up and move around the table, she gathered her son's head against her chest, stroking his hair exactly the way you had the night before.

"Oh, my sweet sweet boy," she whispered, her own voice thick with emotion. "I knew. We always knew. We were just waiting for you to be ready to tell us."

Jace's dad leaned forward, his expression soft and pained. "Jaejun, why were you so scared? Did you really think we wouldn't love you the same? Why did you carry this for so long by yourself?"

"I didn't want to be another issue for you guys," Jace sobbed into his mother's apron. "With everything Jake does...I just wanted to be the perfect son. I didn't want to disappoint you."

Hearing that confession broke something inside you all over again as you sat on the edge of your bed with tears streaming down your face in silent solidarity. The relief was like a physical weight lifting off your chest—Jace was finally safe, he was finally his true self in the one place he had always felt he had to perform.

His mother looked up and finally noticed your face on the screen. "Oh Y/n, my love. Is that you?" she asked with a watery smile.

"Hi, Mrs. Sim," you managed to say, wiping your eyes and waving weakly. "I'm so happy for him."

"We are too, dear," she said. "Thank you for looking after him."

Jace pulled back and wiped his nose with his sleeve before giving you a look of nothing but gratitude. "I'll call you when I get back to campus tonight," he whispered. "I love you, Y/n."

"Love you too, Jace. Go be with them."

The call ended and you were left in your suddenly very quiet room, you spent the rest of your Sunday buried in your textbooks, the words had finally started to make sense now that the static of Jace's secret was gone. For the first time in a long time, the world felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Things fell back into place barely two days after that and by Wednesday afternoon when you’re sat at a table with Jace and Jungwon in the dining hall, they’re pretty much in their own bubble, leaning so close to each other that their shoulders are pinned together. Jungwon is whispering something into Jace's ear that makes Jace duck his head and actually giggle.

"Okay, look," you say, propping your chin on your hand and giving them a fake disgusted look. "You guys are adorable, really. It's sickening. But can you please stop rubbing your new love in my face while I'm trying to eat this subpar pasta? My eyes are bleeding."

Jungwon laughs and you watch his eyes crinkle at the corners but he does lean back, finally giving Jace some breathing room. "Honestly, Y/n, I really can't understand how you're still single. I've sat in the library and heard guys talking about how gorgeous you are. You could have your pick of anyone on campus."

Jace turns to Jungwon with a teasing smirk on his face. "Oh, don't let her fool you. She's a hopeless romantic but she has these impossibly high standards, which she should obviously but the second a guy trips up or shows a hint of a red flag, she cuts them off immediately. Total ghost protocol."

"Hey, it's not my fault most guys just want to fuck anyway," you add with a shrug, making them both laugh. "I'm not interested in being someone's weekend project."

You're all laughing, it really feels like the vibes finally light and normal again but that’s when you catch a glimpse of someone standing a few feet behind Jace and your smile falters.

It's Jake.

It's the first time you've seen him since that night and for a moment, you don't even recognize him. The cocky, golden boy glow is completely gone and he looks like a total mess, wearing a wrinkled and stained hoodie with his hair is unwashed and even from here, you swear you can see the heavy bags under his eyes. He's also very pale, in a way that actually unnerves you and his eyes look bloodshot and sunken. A small flicker of worry pricks at your chest but you’re quick to brush it off, reminding yourself of how he acted just a few days ago.

When your eyes catch his and he realizes you've spotted him, he doesn't smirk or offer some rude catcall. He just walks up to the table with his eyes entirely set on Jace, not even bothering to look at you or Jungwon.

"Jace," he says in a voice that’s devoid of its usual bravado. "Can we talk? Just real quick. Somewhere else."

Jace stiffens and his hand instinctively reaches for Jungwon's under the table. "Why couldn't you just call me, Jake? Or wait until I was at the dorm?"

Jake lets out a breath that sounds more like a wheeze. "I've been texting you for days, Jace. You haven't responded once. I...I really need to talk to you."

The lack of an argument or a snarky comeback is the most alarming part and it hits you like whiplash. Jace looks at you, then at Jungwon before letting out a defeated sigh. "Fine. Five minutes."

He stands up and follows Jake towards a far corner of the dining hall, where there are less people. You watch their retreating backs, noting how Jace's is rigid and very defensive while Jake's is slumped and almost defeated. Even though the villain of the story looks like he's finally been defeated, you can't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something is and feels very, very wrong.

Jungwon notices the way you're staring in the direction they’re in with your fork hovering aimlessly over your plate and he reaches over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, don't overthink it. It's probably just sibling stuff. They probably just need to yell at each other for a few minutes and get it out of their systems."

You nod slowly, trying to force the image of Jake's red eyes out of your mind. "Yeah. You're right. It's just...Jake didn't even look like Jake."

"Let’s focus on something else," Jungwon says, effortlessly pivoting the conversation. "Sloane's birthday is this weekend, remember? She's doing this big dinner on Friday and then after that, all the girls are heading to that club downtown. She really wants you there but she realized she lost your number after that project ended. She told me to make sure you were coming."

The mention of a night out with Sloane and some girls is exactly the distraction you need. You immediately beam as your excitement bubbling up. "Oh, I am so there! I haven't been out in forever. I need a reason to wear something sexy."

"I figured," Jungwon grins, sliding his phone across the table toward you. "Here, take her number and text her so she can add you to the group chat or something. She's already planning the pre game."

As you're typing the digits into your phone, you start to hear Jace’s footsteps as he makes his way back to the table looking very annoyed—his jaw is set tight and he's shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Everything okay?" Jungwon asks softly.

Jace just nods and drops back into his seat with a heavy thud. "Fine. Just Jake being Jake," he says but the words feel like he practiced them for you. He picks up his water glass but he doesn't drink and he starts looking at you and it’s not in his usual just admiring you way. It’s a weird and searching look, even a little hesitant but it makes the hair in your arms stand up. He keeps glancing at you, then quickly looking away the second you catch his eye, then looking back again.

"Jace?" you finally ask, setting your phone down. "What's wrong? You're looking at me like I've got a third head. Did Jake say something?"

Jace blinks, tearing his eyes away from you so fast he nearly knocks over his water glass. "No," he insists too hastily like he doesn’t even want you to think of Jake saying anything that would matter. "Seriously, it's nothing. Just Jake being a dramatic idiot as usual."

Before you can press him on it, he turns sharply to Jungwon, his knuckles whitening as he grips his fork. "Did you...did you tell her about Sloane's birthday yet? The dinner this Friday?"

"Yeah, just did," Jungwon replies, looking between the two of you with a curious lift of his brow. "She's already getting Sloane's number from my phone."

"Good. That's good," Jace murmurs, nodding rapidly. "You should definitely go, Y/n. You need a fun night out."

The knot in your stomach tightens again. You know Jace is usually a terrible liar but right now he seems to be vibrating with whatever secret Jake just dropped in his lap. The way he keeps avoiding your eyes feels heavy and almost protective, like he's trying to shield you from something.

Jungwon seems to want to ease the awkwardness settling over the table, he shifts in his seat and attempts to break the tension. "Hey, I just noticed," he says with a warm smile as he points a finger toward your collarbone. "You always have that gold necklace on every time I see you. It's really beautiful, Y/n."

You’re a little caught off guard by the sudden redirection but your posture soon relaxes and you beam, your fingers flying up to habitually trace the delicate gold charm resting warm against your skin. "Oh, thank you! Jace actually got it for me a while back."

Beside him, Jace cocks his head and his brow furrowing in blank confusion as he stares down at the jewelry. "I did? When?"

You let out a loud scoff before rolling your eyes dramatically at him. "Are you serious right now? You don't even remember? Wow, your memory is horrific, Jace. I literally wear it almost every single day."

It was the morning of your eighteenth birthday, it was also the bittersweet summer just before you all packed up to start college. You had woken up to a house smelling like your favorite pancakes but when you went back to your bedroom to change, you found it sitting right there on your unmade bed. A small box wrapped in deep red velvet and propped up against it was a cream colored card. There was no grand speech or birthday essay, just three words written in a hurried script—From J. Happy 18th.

When you snapped the velvet box open, the delicate gold chain had caught the morning sunlight and gleamed perfectly against the white satin lining. You had figured back then that he was just too shy to give it to you in person or maybe he didn't want to make a massive deal out of it in front of your family and friends. It was so classic Jace, so thoughtful and entirely lowkey. 

You shake your head, laughing it off as you snap back to the present, giving him a playful pout. "Anyway, since you clearly have the memory of a goldfish, let’s just move on, I'm definitely going to Sloane's birthday dinner."

You’ve already decided to let it all go, if Jace wanted you to know about Jake, he'd tell you.

"And you two better not ruin my vibe by being all attached at the hip if you come to the pre game."

Jungwon scoffs playfully, shoving Jace's shoulder. "Hey, I can be independent! Jace is the clingy one."

"I am not!" Jace protests, his cheeks flushing as he finally lets out a real laugh.

Just like that, the heavy shadow Jake left behind begins to dissipate again, melting back into the comforting clatter of the dining hall. You fall back into your breezy conversation, arguing over who has the worst taste in music and planning what you're going to wear on Friday night and willfully ignoring the sinking feeling that the other shoe is just about to drop.

Friday came quicker than you anticipated, probably because after the unsettling tension of Wednesday afternoon, the rest of the week had crashes into a montage of lectures and late night studying. But now it was the night of Sloane's birthday dinner and your dorm room looked a mess from you digging through your closet.

Meanwhile, your bed had been completely hijacked. With your back turned to the room as you desperately rifled through your closet, you could hear the unmistakable sounds of Jace and Jungwon behind you. The rustle of sheets mixed with soft murmurs and the distinct, wet smacking of their lips as they kissed. It was like they physically could not keep their hands off each other for more than thirty seconds.

"I love that you guys are happy but I am begging you to stop procreating on my comforter while I'm in the middle of a crisis," you groaned, throwing another hanger onto the floor in defeat.

You officially gave up, so in a dramatic display of frustration, you threw your hands in the air and let your body collapse backward, laying flat on the cold floor in just your bra and panties.

"I'm not going," you announced to the ceiling before letting out a miserable groan. "I can't find a single thing to wear. You guys should just leave without me, go have fun and let me rot in peace."

From the bed, Jungwon let out a loud laugh. You heard him sit up from between Jace’s legs and when you rolled your head over to look at them, he was leaning on his elbows, staring down at you on the floor.

"I know I said this before," Jungwon said, shaking his head with a grin, "but Y/n, your body is fucking insane. Seriously. If I did girls, I swear I'd be all up on you right now."

"Hey!" Jace immediately piped up, his voice spiking with a funny combo of mock offense and protective best friend energy as he swatted Jungwon's arm.

"I said if!" Jungwon defended himself, laughing and lifting his hands in retreat. "I'm just appreciating the view! She looks amazing."

Their ridiculousness finally cracked your bad mood and you sat up, crossing your legs on the carpet before offering Jungwon a playful hair flip. "Thank you, Jungwon," you said, sending a smug look in Jace's direction. "At least someone in this room appreciates the effort it takes to look this hopelessly single."

Jace rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over to drape his arm over Jungwon's shoulders. "Oh, please. Don't let Jungwon feed your drama. You have plenty of clothes. What about that black two piece?"

You blink up at him from the floor. "Which one?"

"The one you wore to that lounge downtown like three months ago," Jace says, pointing a finger at you like a detective solving a case. "I literally remember because I had to play bodyguard the entire night. Three different guys at the bar approached you within the first hour of us getting there. One of them literally choked on his drink when you walked past."

A lightbulb instantly goes off in your head. "Oh my god," you gasp, jumping up from the carpet. "Jace, you are an absolute genius."

You dive back into the depths of your closet, tossing aside a few stray cardigans and tops until your fingers finally brush against the familiar, sleek fabric of the two piece. It's perfect.

You quickly slip into the outfit, smoothing the skirt down over your hips and adjusting the top in your full length mirror. Turning around, you strike a dramatic pose for your audience of two. "Well? Does the bodyguard approve?"

Both boys look up and right on cue, they nod in total satisfaction. Jace looks like he’s proud of his own styling skills, while Jungwon lets out a low whistle, shifting back against your pillows with a grin.

"Yeah, definitely that one," Jungwon says, giving you a lazy smirk. "That's hot. Sloane is going to lose her mind."

"Finally. Can we go?" Jace asks, getting up from the bed and taking Jungwon’s hand in his.

"We are getting trashhh-ed, we are getting loose, no more books, just cranberry and booze!" you belt out at the top of your lungs as you step out of the room, doing a ridiculous, little shuffle right down the middle of the dorm hallway. You toss a dramatic hip shake into the choreography, the heels of your knee length boots clicking against the linoleum.

"Sloane is turning older and I am looking fly, if a frat boy breathes near me I am gonna make him cry!"

Behind you, Jace and Jungwon start losing it over your rap. "Oh my god, please lower your voice, the RA is going to write us up before we even hit the lobby," Jace wheezes, pressing a hand over his mouth as his shoulders shake with laughter. He jogs a few steps to catch up, playfully nudging your shoulder.

"Don't listen to him, Y/n, it's a lyrical masterpiece," Jungwon hypes you up from a few feet back, pulling out his phone to record your makeshift victory lap. He's grinning from ear to ear, clearly entertained by the striking difference between your stunning outfit and your chaotic energy.

"Give us another verse!" Jungwon challenges, keeping his phone camera pointed right at you as he jogs a couple steps to keep up with your backward walking pace.

You don't even hesitate before you drop your voice an octave, adopt a ridiculously serious facial expression and point a finger gun directly at his camera lens. "Pop the bottles at the table, yeah we doing it right, Jungwon's paying for the drinks so we can party all night!"

Jace lets out a loud gasp, slapping his hand against the wall as he cracks up. "Oh, shit! She got you!"

Jungwon drops his phone slightly, his eyes widening in a mix of genuine surprise and amusement. "Yo, hold on, that actually went hard," he says, nodding his head to an imaginary beat while Jace cheers you on. Jungwon steps up beside you, looking impressed by your quick wit. "The flow? Y/n, be honest with me, have you ever considered a career in rapping? Because I think you just found your true calling."

₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

Jake Sim has a lot of problems in his life, for example there's his absolute joke of his grades, his mountain of unread texts from people who only want him for his car or his fake ID and there's also soul crushing fact that his twin brother thinks he's a raging homophobe. But his absolute worst problem was the fact that girl he was completely and painfully head over heels in love with absolutely hated his fucking guts and honestly why wouldn’t you?

He didn't always mean to be a monster, it just always came out that way whenever he got within five feet of you, like a defense mechanism he'd perfected over years of watching you look at Jace like he hung the fucking moon.

For years, Jake had been trapped in his own head, completely convinced that you and Jace had a secret thing going on. You were always whispering with his twin, always sharing looks he couldn't quite catch, always a single unit. It was the exact reason he'd never confessed or ever opened up all these years, he simply couldn't face the humiliation of competing with his perfect brother for your heart. So instead, he played the role of the obnoxious guy cause it was easier to be hated for a fake persona than rejected for who he actually was.

The night of the lit major mixer while he was leaning against a makeshift table by the bar and running his mindless routine on some girl whose name he hadn't even caught. He wasn't paying attention to her, already bored of her giggles and pathetic attempts at flirting. His eyes were scanning the room looking for something or someone else more entertaining and that's when he spotted you standing with your friend.

You looked incredibly sweet, you always did in a way that always tugged at his heart. Your dress, the way your hair was styled, the sight of you landed like a hammer against his ribs, you were so beautiful in a way that made him feel that familiar, pathetic ache all over again. Then he heard you and your friend let out a synchronized squeal over a phone, you looked so happy and it couldn't help but want to be in your space immediately. So he abandoned the girl at the bar without a second thought, he moved into your space while he masked his pounding heart with his trademark smirk.

"Well, well," he said, stepping directly into your personal bubble, ignoring how you instantly stiffened. "That's a very pretty dress, baby doll. What aisle of the candy store did you come from? Cause you look incredibly sweet tonight."

Your face twisted in total disgust as usual. "That is the worst line I have ever heard, Jake. Seriously, stop."

He didn't flinch, definitely used to the lashings by now. He offered a smooth "And hello to you too, Sandra" to your friend, completely unbothered when she corrected him that her name was Sloane. He shrugged it off, eager to get back to the only person he cared about. "Sloane, Sandra...both beautiful, just like you. What's the difference?"

"So, where's my boring other half? I figured if you were here, he'd be trailing behind you like a lost puppy."

"He's not here, Jake. And for the record, you are the boring one," you snapped, ditching him to head straight for the exit.

Panic immediately spread in his chest, he didn't want you to leave, he was desperate and something in him told him he'd never get you alone without Jace like this again. But when you asked him why he was even here, his brain scrambled and all he could throw out was a crude comment, jerking his thumb toward the bar girl and making a vile joke about trying out lit major pussy, just to see if it would get a rise out of you. It worked but not the way he wanted. You looked at him, repulsed and swiveled to bolt down the stairwell.

"Hold on for a sec," he called out to you, his teasing facade shifting a little.

"Go away, Jake!" you yelled back.

"Wait up, I'm serious," he pleaded, his heavy boots clattering down the concrete stairs behind your platform slippers. By the second floor landing, the smug layer was entirely gone and he was completely desperate. "Y/n, stop. I actually have something important I need to ask you. Just...hold on." He needed to know, needed to finally ask if you and Jace were actually together because the uncertainty had started to eat at him.

You made it to the ground floor, your hand slamming onto the heavy metal handle of the exit door. Jake lunged forward, throwing his hand over your head to hold the door shut, trapping you. "I'm not joking, listen to—" But his eyes shifted to the glass and his words deserted him. He didn't need to ask you anything because his answer was right there just through the door, in the form of his twin brother pinning a guy to the bike racks and kissing him with such fervor.

"What the fuck?" Jake breathed out in a deep exhale and a massive puzzle slammed together in his head and it left him utterly breathless, in fact he wanted to faint.

Jace was not straight.

All those years...all those years of Jake staying away from you, trying to keep his mouth shut, torturing himself because he thought you and Jace were secretly dating or harboring feelings for each other—it had all been a lie. A massive and colossal misunderstanding. You weren't a couple, you were just best friends and Jace had been hiding this massive secret from everyone, including him.

The anger that boiled up in Jake in that exact second wasn't because Jace was kissing a guy. It wasn't homophobia, it was just a violent wave of betrayal and resentment. He was angry partially because Jace had hidden it but mostly because Jace's silence had accidentally locked Jake out of ever pursuing the only girl he loved, leaving him to waste years acting like a villain while his own brother kept him in the dark.

The shock hardened into an unreadable, defensive mask and without hesitating, Jake hurled the door open and stormed into the night.

"Jake, stop! Please, just leave them alone!" you sobbed behind him, grabbing his arm with both hands to anchor him. He didn't even look at you as he violently jerked his shoulder away, shoving you off so hard you stumbled back against the cold brick wall of the stairwell. He didn't mean to hurt you—he never wanted to hurt you—but his blood was boiling too hot.

"What the fuck, Jace?!" Jake's voice boomed through the quiet courtyard.

The two boys sprang apart and Jace turned deathly pale.

"Are you serious right now?" Jake stepped closer, his looming posture dripping with guard that fully looked like aggression. "You're gay? You've been playing this whole honors student part while you're out here kissing dudes? Lying to our parents? Why didn't you say anything?"

The questions were frantic, maybe too accusatory and completely lopsided by his own internal panic. He was essentially screaming—Why did you let me believe you guys were together? Why didn't you trust me? But that's definitely not what everyone else was hearing.

You threw yourself between them, pressing your hands against Jake's chest. "Jake, shut up! Stop it right now! This isn't the time or place. Leave him alone!"

Jake didn't budge, staring directly over your head into his twin's terrified eyes. He wanted Jace to explain, to say something that would make sense of the years of distance between them.

But Jace just let out a bitter, icy laugh. "Wow," Jace spit. "You find out your brother is gay and your first instinct isn't to wonder why I was too scared to tell you. It's to accuse me of living a lie because it bruises your pathetic ego."

Jace's eyes turned cold. "You truly are a vile excuse for a human being, Jake. I've spent twenty two years sharing your face and every day I wake up wishing I could tear it off just so I don't have to look like someone so completely devoid of anything decent. You're not my fucking brother. You're just a mistake that happened four minutes before me."

The words left an invisible wound in Jake, he could've sworn getting stabbed would've hurt less. He stood there frozen as Jace turned and ran, wanting to scream that Jace had it all wrong, that he wasn't mad about who Jace liked, he was mad because the lie had cost him everything, cost him time. He thought of you but the blinding hatred and tears he had seen in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. You would never believe him, you would always choose Jace.

The blinding rush of anger only broke when he heard the sickening sound of your shoes catching on the uneven pavement. He tore his eyes from Jace just in time to see you crash heavily onto the concrete sidewalk, your body tumbling forward in the dark. He rushed over, dropping to his knees, his hands hovering over your shaking shoulders. All he wanted to do was lift you up, clean the dirt and blood already seeping from the wound and carry you somewhere safe. He wanted to be the one to protect you.

But the moment he reached for you, you flinched away as if his touch were poison. The look of burning hatred you hurled at him through your tears froze the air in his lungs. You wouldn't budge. You screamed at him to stay away, even with your voice raw and broken and no matter how much he begged you to just let him help, you refused to let him near you. You tore into him, calling him a shadow Jace has been trying to outrun and finally saying the words that made his jaw tighten in unmistakable heartbreak. "I hate you. I think I've always hated you."

He tried to deny it, ignoring the crack in his voice as he growled out that you didn't mean it but it was more like he was trying to convince himself and not you. But you just laughed right in his face and doubled down, like you wanted to ensure every single word cut like a knife.

His hands were shaking violently at his sides as he muttered for you to stop, but you just wouldn't. Maybe you really did hate him and his presence was only making you spiral deeper into distress, so he finally backed off but he refused to just leave you bleeding in the dark. So, he got back in his car and kept his foot light on the gas, tracking your slow limping figure from the street, driving right beside you along the curb. He ignored the honks of other cars, keeping his lights blinking, purely focused on ensuring you made it across campus and straight to the safety of Jace's dorm building.

The second the heavy glass doors of the honors dorm closed behind your shivering form, the last string holding Jake together snapped.

He slammed his foot on the accelerator and the engine roared as he sped recklessly through the campus gates, tearing down the empty roads all the way back to his off campus apartment. He doesn't remember much of the actual drive or how he even managed to park the car without wrecking it, he does remember how his eyes blurred so violently from tears that the streetlamps bled into long streaks of yellow light down his cheeks. He remembers stumbling through his front door and wanting to not be around anymore the moment the gravity of his own wreckage finally collapsed on top of him.

What had he done?

He had wanted to fix a years long misunderstanding, maybe finally clear the air so he could be a man and tell you how he felt. Instead, in the span of less than ten minutes, he had severed his bond with his twin brother, terrified the girl he loved and cemented himself as the villain in both of their stories.

Jake inevitably fell into a deep, dark slump that very weekend. By Saturday morning, he was desperate to numb the static buzzing in his brain, so he took a random pill he'd bought off some guy at a party weeks ago. Which was a massive mistake because instead of taking the edge off, it triggered a severe drop in his serotonin, sending him spiraling into a hollow depression.

He spent all of Saturday and Sunday locked in his room, staring at the ceiling as his phone rang out with calls from his parents. He didn't make it to the Sunday family dinner, how could he? Jace wasn't picking up his calls or answering any of his frantic texts and the fear of facing his parents kept him paralyzed. He knew exactly what would happen if he went home—Jace had probably already told them everything about how he had acted and he knew wouldn't take his side, they never did.

Wrapping his arms around his head in the dark, he finally had to admit it to himself for the first time in his life, the armor and the denial wasn't working—he was depressed.

The thought felt heavy and bitter in his chest, it was a truth he had spent years violently sprinting away from. He had never, ever admitted it to himself before, sure he'd sat in those sterile therapist offices his parents forced him into. He'd watched the doctors scribble notes on their clipboards, speaking in those careful tones that made him want to rip his own skin off. And yeah, he'd been put on medication and he did the work, swallowing those little pills because it was easier than fighting his mother about it.

But taking them had never meant he accepted it. To teenage Jake and even to an older one, the diagnosis wasn't a medical reality for him, it always felt more like a verdict. It was proof that everyone around him, from even his mother to his twin brother, looked at him and saw something defective, maybe even broken that needed to be chemically altered just to be tolerable.

The meds were just a reminder that Jace was born right and Jake was born wrong.

So he'd hidden behind the noise and built this fuck boy persona, where he drank too much and laughed too loud, treating everything like a joke so he could prove to the world and to himself that he was fine and he was normal. He had convinced himself that if he just ran fast enough, that shadow wouldn't catch him.

But sitting there in the dark, with his serotonin and dopamine entirely depleted by a reckless choice, the noise was gone. Jace wouldn't answer his calls, you hated his guts and probably wouldn't even spit on him if he were on fire and his parents were a looming storm he couldn't face.

He didn't step foot outside his apartment until Wednesday afternoon and the only reason he did was because he absolutely had to see a professor for a class he was currently failing. His head throbbed, his skin felt itchy under his wrinkled hoodie and he hadn't taken a shower or eaten a single thing in days. He tried to make one good decision, to get some food in his system so after meeting with the professor, he made his way to the dining hall, only to be hit with the sight of you as soon as he walked in.

You were sitting at a table laughing with Jace and the guy from that night. Watching the three of you made a bitter thought loop in his head.

Jake had always been jealous of Jace, always and it wasn't just about you, though that was the sharpest ache in his ribs. It was everything, Jace got to be the real golden boy, the honors student, the twin who didn't have to put on a loud mask just to feel like he existed or have to choose between feeling hopelessly sad or being numbed by his medication. Jace got to be soft and people loved him for it, he got to have genuine friendships, while Jake was surrounded by leeches. And now, Jace had the love of that guy along with the freedom of being completely honest and out.

Most of all, Jace had you.

Even when you were all just laughing at a table he couldn't sit at, you were looking at Jace with that protective warmth Jake would have given anything to experience just once. Jace got the best parts of the world without even trying and Jake was left standing in the shadows with the exact same face but a drastically different result.

The sight of you laughing and smiling triggered a painful memory for him. May 2021, a week before junior prom when he was sitting at the breakfast table with his family, his fingers tightly gripped around a glass of orange juice. He had spent days building up the courage to finally say the words out loud.

"I think I'm going to ask Y/n to the dance," he had announced, trying to sound casual, even though his heart was hammering against his ribs. "I want to buy her a corsage and take her."

His dad had let out a low chuckle into his coffee cup but didn't offer a real comment. Jace on the other hand, had laughed right in his face. "Are you serious, Jake?" Jace had scoffed with a shake of his head. "Y/n wouldn't even want that. We already planned to go together anyway. You'd just make it awkward for her."

Jake's chest had tightened but the real blow had yet to come, then his mother came from his reached across the table, trying to soften the impact but her words only hurt him more. "Sweetie, your brother is right. You know how sensitive Y/n is. It's probably a better idea for Jaejun to take her instead. They're best friends and he knows how to look after her."

That rejection had upset him far beyond what he even thought he was emotionally capable of handling. He was only seventeen after all, just a kid who didn't possess the emotional maturity to process the concept of his own mother openly admitting that Jace was better suited for the girl he loved. In the mind of an insecure seventeen year old Jake, it felt like his family was explicitly telling him he wasn't good enough, that he was too rough around the edges to ever deserve you.

The hurt had turned into a toxic anger and a vow to make everyone else feel as small as he felt in that kitchen table. It made him cruel.

A week later, when he stood by the banister in the foyer and watched you walk in, the cruelty spilled over. You looked so pretty in your baby pink dress, despite the braces and the acne you were so insecure about. But the second he noticed that once again, you were looking at Jace like he was your whole world and Jace was smiling back as he pinned a corsage to your wrist, Jake's heart went cold. If he couldn't have you look at him like that, he was damn well going to make sure Jace didn't get to enjoy it either. He tore you down because his own mother had torn him down first and he had been repeating that same broken cycle ever since.

Unfortunately, the exact millisecond those harsh words left his lips in the foyer, the weak armor of his anger shattered. He watched the light completely drain from your face and the tears well up in your eyes, in an instant, a surge of regret hit him. He wanted to reach out and swallow the words back down his throat, letting you know he didn't mean a single syllable of it. He didn't even care that his mother had immediately stepped in and grounded him for the next month, taking away his car keys right there in front of everyone.

The punishment was nothing compared to the burning pit in his stomach, he only wanted to make it right, pull you aside and beg on his knees for your forgiveness but he never got the chance. Jace had seamlessly stepped in, guiding you out of the house to the safety of his car while comforting you and his mother had coldly pointed toward the stairs, sending Jake up to his bedroom like some pariah.

He spent hours in the dark, listening to the muffled silence of a house that felt like it was actively rejecting him. When Jace finally came back late that night, the tension in their shared bedroom was undeniable. Jace didn't even look at him as he changed out of his tux, then out of nowhere, Jace spoke into the dark, "You know, Jaeyun, I consider Y/n more of a sibling than I consider you. She's my real twin and if I ever had the choice, I'd pick her over you in a heartbeat. And after today, I don't want you to ever come near her again."

A clean snap, if everyone in his life thought Jace was the better twin, if even his own mother openly favored Jace's gentleness over him and now his own identical brother, the person who shared his actual face, would choose you over him without a second thought—where did that leave him? It left him with absolutely no one. He was entirely alone in his own home.

That was the exact night, five years ago, Jake Sim buried his feelings for you so deep that no one could ever dig them back up. If loving you meant constantly being reminded of how inferior he was to Jace, it was safer to pretend he didn't care at all, he figured it'd be easier to be the villain they all assumed he was anyway and if he couldn't be loved for who he was, he would make sure he was desired for what he could pretend to be.

The very next week, he had asked out the prettiest girl in school and basked in the shallow attention it brought his way, only to coldly dump her for her best friend three weeks later. He didn't care about the collateral damage, he just needed to feel like he had some semblance of power, some form validation to drown out the memory of Jace's voice telling him he'd never be chosen.

He carried that exact same toxic behavior right with him to college and when he arrived on campus, he quickly realized he didn't fit in with the honors students or the artsy crowd where you and Jace flourished. Instead, he found that he only fit in with the frat boys, guys who valued the same superficial bravado he used to mask his own emptiness. He became the guy who drank too much, laughed too loud and treated girls like conquests, all because the real Jake Sim was still a heartbroken seventeen year old kid hiding in the dark, terrified of being rejected again.

In the middle of the crowded dining hall, Jake felt completely hollow with his body aching from the lingering weight of a chemically induced weekend crash. He watched the three of you from a distance, before he saw your head shift in his direction and your smile instantly vanish at the sight of him, he knew you'd spotted him. A part of him wanted to throw up his usual, cocky armor, maybe to smirk or throw out a hollow catcall at you just to hide how empty he actually felt but he simply didn't have the energy. The fake golden boy act was dead but he forced his heavy feet forward and made a direct line for your table. As he approached, he deliberately locked his eyes onto his twin, completely avoiding your gaze. He couldn't look at you cause he couldn't bear to see more of the disgust and fear that was undoubtedly written all over your face after what happened on the rooftop. He just needed his brother.

"Jace," "Can we talk? Just real quick. Somewhere else."

He watched Jace instantly stiffen, his brother's arm defensively dropping under the table, likely reaching for Jungwon's hand. Jace glared up at him all tight and unyielding. "Why couldn't you just call me, Jake? Or wait until I was at the dorm?"

Jake let out a rough breath and used his eyes to beg his twin to just cooperate for once. "I've been texting you for three days, Jace. You haven't responded once. I...I really need to talk to you."

He didn't fire back with a snarky comment, nor did he roll his eyes. He just stood there, pale and exhausted, too exposed under the bright lights. He thanked a higher being that Jace seemed to sense the genuine desperation behind the lack of an argument.

"Fine. Two minutes," Jace muttered.

Jake immediately turned around and headed toward a less crowded corner of the room, he could feel your eyes burning into his retreating back but all he could focus on was the faint hope that he could finally make his brother understand the truth before it was too late.

"Look, Jace," Jake started, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie. "First of all...I'm really sorry. About that night, I shouldn't have blasted you out in the open like that."

Jace let out a dry scoff, he didn't look like he was believing a word of what his brother was telling him. "Are you serious right now, Jake? You think an apology fixes that? You cornered us and you made it sound like I was committing some crime."

"Because I was losing my mind, Jace." Jake erupted, his defense mechanism instantly flaring up as he went into a frantic rant. He paced a small line on the tile. "You don't get it. You've never gotten it. I didn't care that you were kissing a guy, Jace. I was angry because you hid it. I was angry because you let me believe that you and Y/n—"

"Don't—Do not drag her into this," Jace cut him off in a protective growl and Jake couldn't deny the anger in his twins eyes. "Do not bring Y/n's name out of your mouth, Jake. You've done enough damage to her to last a fucking lifetime."

"You're not even listening to me." Jake pulled his hair, feeling the desperation finally snap what was left of his restraints. He stopped pacing a little and stared directly into his twin's face. "I am dragging her into this because she is the reason. I have been helplessly, devastatingly in love with her, Jace! I've been in love with Y/n since we were like fucking fourteen and I stayed away because I thought you two were together!"

The part of Jake that thought Jace would finally see things from his point of view immediately died when his face didn't even move an inch, in fact his eyes narrowed in utter disgust.

"Cut the shit, Jake." Jace said, completely unyielding. "Seriously, just stop. Whatever twisted game you're playing at right now, it isn't going to work anymore. You don't love her. You just can't stand that she's part of my life and completely wants nothing to do with yours."

"I'm not playing a game." Jake choked out, crying already with tears finally pricking the corners of his eyes and blurring his vision. "I—I'm telling you the truth."

"You have issues, Jake. Real issues and I think you need serious help." Jace said softly before looking at him with agonizing pity—the one expression Jake absolutely loathed more than anything else in the world. It always made him feel small and broken.

"Have you even been taking your meds?" Jace asked, voice filled with concern. "Because you're completely spiraling and I'm not going to let you use one of your episodes as an excuse to wreck my life or Y/n's."

A tearful gasp escaped Jake's throat before he could stop it and his hands formed tight fists inside his pockets as the tears finally spilled over his pale cheeks.

"Screw you," Jake spat as he took a step back, shaking his head violently and backing away from Jace. "Screw you, Jace. This has nothing to do with that. You just...you never want to see me as anything else, do you?"

That question seemed to hurt Jake more than any insult his brother has ever thrown his way because the topic of his depression and his medication had always been strictly off limits in their family. It was the one deeply guarded secret that was kept hidden away from the rest of the world—even you didn't know about it. So for Jace to weaponize that private vulnerability and drag it into the light of a public space just to invalidate him, that felt like a level of calculated cruelty Jake never thought his brother was capable of.

Jace let out a long sigh and ran a hand down his face as if he was dealing with an exhausting chore rather than a breaking his own blood. "Look, I know how you get, Jake."

"So maybe...I don't know, maybe all of this is just a manifestation of you being off your meds again."

Jake stared at his twin and just felt completely paralyzed as the words hung in the air between them. He genuinely could not believe what he was hearing. The logic was so twisted that it left him breathless—the fact that Jace thought the only possible explanation for Jake truly loving you, the only way his years of silent and agonizing pining could ever make sense in his brother's mind, was if it were the byproduct of a severe depressive spiral or a manic episode. To Jace, Jake's genuine heart was nothing more than a chemical glitch and just another symptom to be managed.

A bitter laugh bubbled up in Jake's chest but it quickly turned into a sob as he nodded his head violently. He looked at the identical face staring back at him with that pity and the last shred of his attachment to his twin vanished into thin air.

"And I thought I was the vile twin," Jake whispered but didn't bother waiting for a response or giving Jace another second to dissect him. He simply walked away, fully intending to forget all about you and his brother too.

He threw the doors open, ignoring the way the heavy wood slammed against the drywall with a loud crack. On the drive back, he had squeezed the steering wheel until his hands went numb, staring so hard at the road his eyes burned. He hadn't let himself continue to cry, he had just breathed through his teeth, pushing down the lump in his throat because he refused to break down in his car over a brother who looked him in the eye and called his heart a clinical glitch.

He just needed to get inside his apartment, he was ready to lock the world out again and let the darkness take over.

Instead, when he unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open, his feet stopped dead. The lamp in the corner was throwing a little light across the living room and sitting right there on the couch she bought him was his mother.

The second she heard him come in, her head snapped up, taking a long look at his pale face, the deep bruises under his red rimmed eyes and the sad way his hoodie hung off his shoulders, and she stood up fast. Her face broke open with a look of real panic and maternal dread.

But Jake was blind to it.

His brain, already skinless by Jace's execution of his dignity, went into immediate defense mode. He didn't see a mother who had driven over out of worry for her son. He saw an intruder and the woman who had spent his entire youth looking at him like a problem to be solved, standing in his sanctuary and his walls went up, turning his agonizing hurt into razor sharp venom.

"What are you doing here?" Jake spat at her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He made sure the words came out harsh and deliberately ugly. "Why are you inside my apartment unannounced? Who the hell gave you a key?"

He could see his mother visibly recoil, her shoulders dropped as though she'd been struck but she didn't get angry at him. She took a tentative step toward him, her hands hovering in the space between them.

"Jaeyun, please, just stop," she whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced around the room. "I've been calling you for three days. You haven't answered a single text. I was just worried about you." She gestured helplessly to the state of the room—the stale air, the chaotic piles of dirty clothes that always signaled he had stopped functioning weeks ago. "Look at this place, Jake. Look at you. I'm worried about you."

He walked right past her, brushing his shoulder against hers as he headed deeper into the apartment. "There's nothing to be worried about," he muttered dismissively as he threw his car keys onto the messy kitchen counter. "I'm just tired. Leave it alone."

"Jake, please, just listen to me," she pleaded with him, her voice cracking as she hurried after him. She reached out, using her fingers to desperately catch the rough fabric of his sleeve, holding onto him to force him to stop moving.

Jake gave her one irritated breath and looked down, ready to wrench his arm out of her grip but his throat closed around the words.

In her other hand, clutched tightly against her palm, was his prescription container of Lexapro.

Through the translucent plastic, he could see the unmoved crowd of tablets inside. Yes, the bottle was still full with the exact same amount of pills it had contained a month ago when he'd first picked up the refill. She didn't just suspect it anymore—she knew with absolute certainty, that he hadn't been taking them.

Silence fell over the kitchen and his mother looked up at him with eyes shining with unshed tears, silently begging him to acknowledge the proof right in front of them.

Jake's rolled his eyes and a bitter sneer twisted in his features as he reached down. One by one, he pried her fingers off his arm, pushing her hand away from him.

"I'm fine." He said in an unyielding line as he stepped backward out of her reach. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You think a handful of pills fixes a broken son, is that it?" Jake asked her with a sickly smile on his face, "You think if I just swallow your little compliance capsules, I suddenly become the son you actually wanted?"

"Jake, stop it! That is not what this is!" She cried out, clutching the plastic bottle tight against her chest like a shield. Tears were streaming freely down her face now and her posture entirely broken. "It's medicine! You are hurting and you are spiraling and I am watching you destroy yourself!"

"Because I am defective, right?!" He suddenly roared, stopping in his tracks. "That's what you and Jace think! Even dad! That's what you've always thought! You look at him and you see the perfect child, the brilliant twin, the one who does everything right! And then you look at me and you just see a project that needs a chemical fix!"

"That is not true!" she sobbed, shaking her head so violently her hair fell out of its clip.

"Don't lie to me!" Jake screamed as his face turned an unhinged red. The years of suppressed emotion and agonizing reality of living in Jace's shadow, finally tore out of his throat in a breathless torrent.

"You love him more. Just admit it. You've always loved him more, every—every single day of my life, you looked at me and wished I was just like Jace. You wished I was quiet, you wished I was stable, you wished I didn't have a broken fucking brain! You look at my identical face and you just wish you could erase me and double your investment in him!"

"No! Jaeyun, stop, please, my god, stop!"

His mother dropped the pill bottle and the plastic clattered against the hardwood floor, making the tablets scatter across the floor. She lunged forward, not caring about his harsh words and grabbed his face with both of her shaking hands, forcing him to look at her.

"That is not true! It has never ever been true!" She wailed in his face. She held him tightly, digging her fingers into his cheeks as she forced his wild eyes to lock onto hers. "I love you, Jake. I love you. Just the way you are. I have never wanted you to be Jace. I have only ever wanted you to survive this . You are my son. My beautiful, fiercely loving boy and it hurts my heart to see you in this much pain."

Her words seemed to snap his violent armor as the heat left his body all at once, leaving him gutted to his core and trembling. Jake's eyes quickly welled up and the heavy tears finally spilling over his lashes, tracing hot paths down his pale cheeks. His mouth opened but not a sound came out at first, just a serrated gasp for air as his shoulders caved inward. He didn't pull away from her touch this time, he collapsed into it, letting his heavy hands come up to grip her wrists but instead of prying them away like he's sure she thought he would do, he used them to hold his body upright.

He was crying completely now, his breaths came hard with rattling sobs that sounded like a dying man. He looked at his mother, stripped entirely of his pride, his anger and his defense mechanisms, reduced to nothing but bleeding nerve endings.

"Then why doesn't Y/n love me back?" Jake whispered, his voice cracking so deeply it was barely a breath, entirely devastated. He stared into his mother's eyes, looking like a broken sixteen year old boy. "If I'm not broken, Mum...if I'm not less than him...then why doesn't she want me? Why does she look at Jace like he's the entire world and look at me like I'm nothing?"

To his surprise, a gasp of relief mixed with laughter

escaped her throat, it was like even through the agonizing weight of his confession, she was just grateful to have her boy back. She gave another little before she lunged forward, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling his heavy frame tightly against her chest.

Jake stiffened, as the sudden warmth caught him off guard. He was still crying when he felt his nose running and knew his face was a total mess of tears and snot. Realizing he was ruining the back of her cashmere sweater, he awkwardly tried to pull away, his shoulders tense. "Mum, wait, I'm getting..."

But she didn't care and she didn't let him go. If anything, she only squeezed him tighter, burying her face into his shoulder and rocking him back and forth as if he were still a little boy.

"Oh, my darling, darling boy." Her voice muffled against his hoodie. "My sweet Jaeyun...Y/n loves you more than you could ever even comprehend."

Jake froze in her arms, his breath went uneven in his throat. The words sounded so utterly ridiculous, so completely detached from the brutal reality of that night, that they felt like a cruel joke. He pulled back just enough to look at her and a sad laugh bubbled up through his fresh tears. He shook his head. "Don't...Mum, don't make fun of me. Please. You don't know what she said to me. She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you, Jaeyun," his mother doubled down instantly, her hands moving up to cup his face again, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. Her gaze was unyielding, and filled with so much certainty a part of him wanted to badly to believe her. "Y/n is just deeply hurt. Your actions...the things you did to protect yourself, they pushed her away. But that is not hate. You have to believe me."

Before he could argue or before his brain could spiral back into the darkness as your voice flooded his head again, she guided him toward the living room. Jake didn't fight her, he let her pull him down onto the thrifted couch, his long legs cramping up as he curled into her side and buried his face in her lap just like he used to do when the world got too loud. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair with a gentle hand and whispering sweet nothings into the quiet room.

"You're going to be okay, my sweet boy," she murmured, kissing the top of his head. "We're going to fix this. I love you so much, Jake. You are so so loved."

For a long time, the only sound in the apartment was the steadying of Jake's breathing as the storm inside him finally began to pass. He felt exhausted drained but lighter than he had in years.

Suddenly, his mother's soothing hand paused mid stroke. Her head turned and her eyes set on the armrest right next to Jake's head. Sitting prominently on the plush of the expensive couch was a pair of dirty boxers he had lazily tossed days ago.

She exhaled slowly like her overwhelming maternal instinct instantly was shifting from emotional crisis mode to domestic intervention.

"First thing tomorrow," she started with her voice returning to its usual brisk tone as she kept one arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, "I am calling professional cleaners. Because this is absolutely biological warfare, Jaeyun."

He laughed at her words, trying not to seem too embarrassed. Once his breathing finally leveled out, his mother gently nudged him up so she could get to work. She wasn't the type to sit idle for long and before Jake could even protest, she was moving through the apartment like a whirlwind. She cleared the mountain of beers cans and pizza boxes from the coffee table, threw his discarded clothes into a hamper and disappeared into the small kitchen to rifle through the bare refrigerator.

Jake stood leaning against the doorframe, his throat still felt raw from crying, he watched her slice vegetables, so confident in ways only a mother could be.

"Mum, you don't have to do all this," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can cook."

"You can but you haven't," she pointed out smoothly, not looking up as she tossed chopped peppers into a pan. "Grab those glass containers from the cabinet. Let's meal prep ,okay? So I know you'll actually eat a real vegetable this week."

He did as she told him to, stepping up to the counter beside her. The domestic quiet was a far cry from the emotional explosion from earlier but it felt grounded and Jake felt safe. As they worked together, dividing the food into neat containers, she kept the conversation light, she deliberately steered them away from the heavy topics of Jace, you and his own head.

"Your father installed a greenhouse last weekend," she remarked with a little smile on her lips as she handed him a serving spoon. "He's gotten obsessed. He spent a good deal of time trying to explain the kind of soil required for heirloom tomatoes to me. I had to tune him out after twenty minutes."

Jake let out a real but still quiet laugh. "Dad and gardening? He barely manages to keep the lawn alive without the gardeners."

"Don't let him hear you say that," she chuckled and lightly tapped the back of his hand with a spoon. "He bought a wide brimmed straw hat and everything. He looks ridiculous."

By the time the kitchen was clean and the fridge was stocked with home cooked meals, the exhaustion of the emotional fallout finally caught up to Jake. His eyelids felt like lead, so his mum ushered him off to his bedroom, pulling the heavy blankets over his shoulders just like she used to when he was a kid.

"Go to sleep, Jaeyun." She whispered to him before brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "I'll handle the rest."

He fell asleep almost instantly, slipping into a deep slumber. Sometime during the early morning hours, his mind drifted through a foggy state of semi consciousness. He vaguely heard distant clatters, the muted hum of a vacuum and the quiet murmur of voices in the living room but the sounds didn't alarm him. They felt like a background track to a dream and he simply rolled over to bury his face deeper into his pillow.

When he finally woke up the next day, the apartment was dead silent and he woke up to an unfamiliar lightness in his chest. He stood up and walked out into the living room and true to her word, his mother was gone but she had clearly unleashed a small army of professional cleaners on the apartment. The space was pristine, with the air smelling crisply of citrus and fresh linen, the floors practically gleamed and every single piece of clutter had been meticulously organized.

He walked into the kitchen, his bare feet cool against the spotless tile and resting in the center of the completely empty kitchen island was his container of medication.

Propped up perfectly against the plastic bottle was a bright yellow sticky note. He stepped closer, immediately recognizing his mother's elegant handwriting.

Just start with one, it read.

Jake stood frozen in front of the island, staring down at the little bottle for a quiet moment. His mind began to wander, the gears turning as he faced the wreckage of his life with a newly cleared head. The reality of everything he had broken over the past few weeks came rushing back but the paralyzing dread was gone and all he felt now was a quiet determination.

He thought about you, about the brutal words you had screamed at him on the pavement, the absolute hatred in your eyes, it all made his heart violently ache. How do I win you over? he wondered as his heart tightened. How do I even begin to show you that I'm not the selfish person you think I am?

But then there was still Jace and the disgust in his twin's voice during their hallway fight from yesterday still rang clearly in his ears. He knew the apology he had attempted had barely even scratched the surface. How do I make Jace forgive me?

He knew it would take time, in fact it would take proving to his brother that he wasn't just a ticking time bomb using his episodes as an excuse to wreck everyone else's lives.

He looked back down at the sticky note. Just start with one.

It just happened to be a terrifyingly small step, an admission that he couldn't fix everything on his own, that he actually needed the help he had spent his entire life rejecting. But as he looked around his clean kitchen, Jake didn't want to run anymore, he didn't want to hide behind the noise or the anger or even the bravado.

So with a steady hand, Jake reached out and unscrewed the cap. The plastic clicked and slowly, he tipped the bottle, catching a single pill in his palm, without giving himself another second to even overthink it or let the old demons drag him back down, he popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry.

The whole day passed for him in what he could only describe as his own hard won type of peace. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the constant buzzing of anxiety in his chest had subsided into more manageable hum. He actually ate his meals, sat down at his spotless kitchen table and devoured the containers his mother had left behind, forcing himself to chew and swallow until they were empty.

With his body finally fueled by something other than cheap liquor and adrenaline, he spent a solid chunk of the afternoon trying to patch up the mess that was his academic life. He stared at the brightness of his laptop screen as he drafted an uncharacteristically humble email to his economics professor. He practically begged for a chance to submit a heavily overdue assignment, trying to sound like a student who had simply lost track of time rather than one who had been entirely incapacitated by his own mind. It wasn’t easy and his brain protested the sudden inflow of words and numbers but he forced himself to stay glued to the chair until he finally clicked send.

By the time night fell, the clean apartment started to warm up to him. He put on his absolute favorite movie and watched the familiar dialogue and the predictable soundtrack filling the quiet spaces of the room. Then, he booted up his console and buried himself in video games for hours, letting the mindless reflex loops of the controller numb the remaining edges of his thoughts.

Throughout the entire day, his phone had vibrated periodically against the coffee table, lighting up with a steady stream of notifications from his frat brothers. He completely ignored them, not even bothering to swipe the lock screen open cause he already knew what they wanted and it wasn't because they were worried he had suddenly gone missing from campus. The previews on his lock screen told him everything he needed to know—they were asking about who was covering the alcohol tab for the upcoming mixer, where the keys to the frat house basement were or which girls were showing up to the pregame. It was all so agonizingly shallow, so painfully superficial and Jake for the life of him just couldn't deal with the exhausting effort of putting on the mask again. He couldn't fake that loud and hedonistic persona they all expected from him when his nerve endings were still this raw.

Yet, despite the movie, the video games, the textbook chapters and the deliberate isolation, he couldn't completely clear the air in his head. Through all of this, the one absolute constant was you. You stayed pinned to the very front of his mind, like a painfully beautiful fixture that he just couldn't escape. Every time the game loading screen went black, he saw the reflection of his own face and remembered the disdain on your face.

Every time he took a breath of the clean air in his living room, he wondered if you were still out somewhere with Jace, completely happy and relieved that he was finally out of your picture. He wanted to reach for his phone a thousand times just to type your name and beg you to just let him explain but the weight of his own mistakes held his hands still. He was working on himself, just like his mother had asked him too but the hardest pill to swallow wasn't even his own medication—it was the fact that even if he got better, he still had no idea if you would love him back or love him for him.

That same crushing burden of you on his mind carried all the way into Friday night. By then, the apartment that had warmed up to him, felt like it was itching to spit him out. He was sitting at the foot of his bed, working on another overdue assignment, when his phone suddenly vibrated against the mattress.

Jake swore he must have somehow summoned you into existence because there it was. Your name was glowing bright and impossible against the dark screen.

It was an incoming call from you and saying his heart skipped a beat would’ve been an understatement because it slammed into his stomach and back up into his ribs .

He felt paralyzed staring at the flashing letters, he also felt so incredibly confused and that made a thick wave of nauseating anxiety rise in his throat. Why were you calling him? Were you calling to berate him again? To deliver the sequel from that confrontation and finish stripping away whatever minor scraps of dignity he had left?

Or had something happened to Jace? His mind raced a mile a minute, he felt his chest tightening at the thought of his twin but he instantly shot it down. No, if Jace was hurt, you definitely wouldn't be calling him for help, you wouldn't even want him anywhere near a crisis.

He sat there overthinking, trapped in a loop of panic, watching the phone screen flash over and over. He kept debating whether to answer, his thumb was hovering an inch above the green answer icon, until the ringing abruptly stopped and the screen went dark.

A shaky breath left him and his shoulders sagged as a strange sense of relief washed over him. He wiped a sudden sweat from his palms against his sweatpants. It had to have been a mistake, maybe a pocket dial or an accident. You probably realized who you were calling and hung up in disgust.

The his phone started to vibrate again and your name flashed on the screen for a second time. This wasn't no accident, you were intentionally trying to reach him and he realized that ignoring it twice would completely kill whatever microscopic thread was left between you, the panic in his chest turned into raw adrenaline and he didn’t even give himself the chance to talk himself out of it, he reached out and swiped answer on the screen before pressing the phone tightly against his ear.

"Hello?"

"Jace?"

Your voice came through the speaker, but it didn't hit him with the sharp precision he had been bracing for. It was soft and unfocused, actually it was entirely wrong.

Jake's chest deflated and familiar pang of disappointment settling right in his heart.

Oh, yeah. It was a mistake, he thought to himself.

You hadn't meant to call him, you had meant to call the twin who actually mattered, you had probably clicked the wrong contact in a hurry.

He opened his mouth to tell you but before he could say even get a single word out, you spoke again.

"Jaceeee...where are you?"

He comically pulled the device away from his ear for a fraction of a second and checked the caller ID just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. You didn't sound like yourself at all, your voice was much whinier than usual and your syllables were dragging and bleeding into one another in a clumsy slur.

"Why aren't you here to pick me up yet?" You complained in a tone that had Jake thinking there was definitely a pout on your face. "The music inside is too loud and my feet hurt, Jace. You said you'd come get me." "But I—I’m looking around and there’s no you."

Jake stood up quickly as his brain started putting two and two together. It was Friday night and you were out somewhere and from the sounds of it, you were absolutely wasted.

His first instinct was to just tell you the truth—that you had dialed the wrong twin and he was the wrong person. He wanted to tell you to hang up and call his brother or he even thought about hanging up himself and calling Jace to let him know you were stranded somewhere. But the memory of his Wednesday exchange flashed in his mind and Jace's voice echoed in his ears. Have you even been taking your meds? I'm not going to let you use your episodes as an excuse to wreck my life or Y/n's.

Jace wouldn't answer his call. If Jake tried to ring his brother right now, Jace would see his name on the screen, assume it was another episode or another frantic rant and decline it instantly. Meanwhile, you'd be sitting wherever you were, completely incapacitated and unprotected.

He couldn't leave you like that, he really didn't care if you hated him, he wouldn’t let you be vulnerable.

"Hey," Jake started, trying his absolute best to mimic the steady tone Jace always used when things got chaotic. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe for a second. Tell me where you are."

A loud giggle came through from your end of the line, followed by a wet hiccup. "You sound so funny," you muttered and he could hear the distinct sound of wind rushing past the microphone, like you were wandering around outside. "Why do you sound so serious? Are you mad at me? Don't be mad at me, Jacey."

"I'm not mad," Jake lied through his teeth, paying no mind to how his heart was pounding, he was already grabbing his car keys off the nightstand with his free hand. He began pacing the clean floorboards of his bedroom with his anxiety spiking. "I'm not mad at all, I promise. But I need you to listen to me. I need to know where you're standing right now so I can get to you."

"I'm at...um..." You trailed off, laughing softly to yourself as if you had forgotten the question entirely. "There's a really big sign. It's pink. No, wait, it's red. It looks like a giant grape."

"A grape?" Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, stepping out into his living room. He tried to think of every bar, club and lounge near campus. "Y/n, think for me. Is it a bar or a club? Are you downtown?"

"It's a secret." You whispered loudly into the phone and followed it with another fit of giggles. "If I tell you, you're gonna make me leave and the girls were being nice. Well, some of them. One of them spilled an entire gin and tonic on my boot, Jace. Look at it."

"I can't see your boot, Y/n," Jake said while his patience was fraying into terror for your safety. He could hear heavy bass thumping faintly in the background but the air around you sounded wide open. You were definitely outside the place, likely on a sidewalk or an alley. "Please, just look around you. Read the words on the building for me. Just play along, okay? Read the words."

"Fine, party pooper," you whined, huffed loudly into the receiver before he heard the sound of scuffing of your boots, then a quiet gasp. "Oh! It says…cellar. But it’s blinking. It goes click click cliiiiick. It's soooo annoying."

Cellar. Jake knew exactly where that was—it was an underground club a mile off campus but deep in the warehouse district.

"Okay. Okay, I know where that is," Jake said, already out of his front door. He didn't care that he was crossing a massive line or that when you sobered up, you would probably despise him even more for tricking you. All that mattered was getting you into the backseat of a car before someone else noticed how helpless you were. "Stay right there under the blinking sign, Y/n. Don’t move or go back inside and don't walk away. I'll be there right now."

Jake drove as fast as he could through the dark streets, the neon signs of the city blurring into long streaks of color against his windshield. He was definitely breaking speed limits but his heart was beating so wildly that it was the last thing on his mind, he was simply fueled by the dread of you being left alone in that part of town.

When he finally veered into the cracked parking lot of the club, he slammed the brakes and lo and behold, you were actually standing exactly where he had told you to, your small frame was illuminated by the flickering red light of the giant cherry sign.

As he looked at you through the windshield, all he could think of was how easily Jace could tell you to do something and you'd just do it without a single question, simply because you trusted his twin blindly. The only reason you were standing there right now, shivering and swaying on your feet under that broken sign, was because you thought Jace had told you to stay put.

Jake killed the engine and pushed his door open, moving quickly across the pavement toward you.

The second you caught sight of his figure approaching, your face completely lit up. That reaction alone made his heart physically ache but he ignored it. You thought he was Jace and he knew with outright certainty that if you were sober or if you had any idea it was actually Jake standing in front of you, you would have already turned on your heel and walked away into the dark.

Instead, you let out a slurred cheer, stepped off the curb and threw your arms right around his neck.

"You came!" you giggled and your alcohol scented breath brushed against his ear as you squeezed him tightly. "My sweet, sweet best friend. I knew you’d never leave me."

Before he could even process the sudden warmth of your body pressed against his, you leaned back slightly and pressed a drunken kiss right against his cheek.

Jake’s whole body couldn’t move, his breath was stuttering in his lungs. He had to stand there and pretend like his entire body wasn't going completely crazy from the gesture. This was the closest he had ever been to you in his whole life—closer than he had ever dared to dream during all those years of silent pining. Every fiber of his being felt like it was on fire from the ghost of your lips burning against his skin.

But right now he knew he needed to be the responsible one and get you somewhere safe.

"Okay, okay," Jake mumbled, his tone was a little rougher than he intended but still, he gently brought his hands up to grip your waist to try to guide you toward the passenger side of his car. "Come on, let's get you into the car before you freeze."

But you were being completely difficult, you whined and stuck your face back into the crook of his neck, your hands tangling into the fabric of his hoodie as you purposely made your legs go limp. "Nooo, don't want to get in the car yet. The ground is spinning, Jace. Carry me."

A real smile cracked on his face. He really couldn't help it though, he had never in his two plus decades of knowing you seen this side of you before. The you he knew was always guarded and fiercely protective around him, especially after high school, so to see you like this, just stripped of your walls, giggling and pouting like a sleepy child, was a view of you he never thought he'd be allowed to witness. It was beautiful and by God it was intoxicating, like the most bittersweet moment of his life.

"Jaceeee, take off my booooots." You whined and he watched in awe as you actually stomped one foot on the cracked pavement like a little child. The sight made him give a defeated sigh but there was no real annoyance in it. He simply reached down and carefully unzipped the tall boots from your knees one by one until you were standing in just your socks.

He managed to get you over to the passenger door to hold it open for you, practically hovering over you to make sure you didn't tumble over and carefully helping you slide into the seat. He leaned across the console, ignoring how the unfamiliar scent of your perfume filled his senses while he pulled the seatbelt across your lap, clicking it securely into place. After gathering your boots and your bag, he tossed them safely into the backseat and closed the door.

He took in a steadying breath of the cool night air before walking around to the driver's side but the exact moment he climbed into his seat and pulled the door shut, the atmosphere in the vehicle had shifted.

You were staring at him, very angrily in fact. In a way that made his heart violently drop right into his stomach again. A cold sweat broke out across his neck as he froze under your glare, terrified that the illusion had finally shattered. His mind raced frantically—had you finally realized he wasn't Jace? Maybe the interior of the car had given him away. Jace's car didn't look like this or smell like this and you knew Jace's things better than anyone. He braced himself for the screaming that he was so sure was coming.

Shockingly though, the anger vanished as quickly as it had appeared and you burst into another helpless fit of giggles before slumping back against the headrest.

"Wow," you shook your head, looking at him with your glassy eyes. "You and your brother are so identical." You said and threw your hand to his shoulder to play with the hair on the back of his head.

He hoped you were too drunk to notice how his whole body went stiff or how he wasn't even breathing.

You emptied your lungs in an exhale, staring aimlessly out the passenger window as the car started to move.

When he was stopped at a red light and he took the opportunity to look at you, there was a heart tugging smile at the corners of your lips as you murmured, "Remember when I liked him? And I was Mrs. Jake Sim..."

Jake had no idea it was even possible for his heart to drop any further but it did. It felt like his chest had completely caved in.

What? You liked him? Him?

His hands were shaking so violently he could barely g hold the steering, his mind was screaming, like a train wreck of shock and crushing regret. He forced himself to keep driving though and he needed to keep you talking, he needed to know more. So he forced a casual laugh through his teeth, pretending to be Jace just looking down memory lane. "Oh yeah?" He asked, "Remind me...when was that again?"

"You knowww—hiccup—Up until fresh...man year," you mumbled, your hand had dropped to the middle console by now.

Jake's foot twitched violently on the pedal and he nearly slammed on the brakes right in the middle of the street. Freshman year, that was almost four years ago. Four years of him pining for you, four years of him deliberately keeping his distance because he thought you belonged to Jace and all the while...you had liked him before?

"But he's just..." You trailed off, giving a hiccup that interrupted your words and shook your shoulders. Suddenly, your tone shifted and turned into a frustrated ramble as you stared out the windshield. "He's just so horrible, Jace. He's so mean to me. Why is he like that?"

Jake gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were numb, the leather even squeaked under his palms. Every word felt like an earthquake inside him but he stayed silent and let you speak.

"I wish..." You stumbled over the words, your hand coming up to wave vaguely in the air before dropping back on his shoulder to tug at his hair again. "I wish he were better. I wish he was just a little bit better so I could...so I could love him easier. But he makes it so hard. He throws those parties and...and sleeps with all those girls and he says the most awful things and he just...he pushes everyone away. Especially me." Another hiccup caught in your throat and your voice cracked, sounding like you were just incredibly tired. "He made it so hard to stay. I wanted to...I really wanted to but he's just...he's an asshole."

Jake kept his on the dark road ahead, hearing the exact words you had screamed at him not too long ago, repeated right now in this gentle confession was a new kind of torture. You hadn't always hated him, if anything you had wanted to love him and he had ruined it all by himself.

In no time he was pulling up into the parking lot of your dorm building, it was like you felt the car come to a halt and you came around. "We're here?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand like a sleepy child and tilting your head toward him.

"Yeah. We're here," Jake said to you and if you weren't so wasted, he's sure you would've heard how think with unshed tears his voice was. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached into the back to grab your boots and bag before stepping out into the night.

He moved around to your side and opened the door, watching as you swayed immediately you unclipped your belt, your socked feet dangling over the edge of the car.

"I can't walk, Jace." You looked up at him with wide eyes and held your arms up in the air. "My feet are cold."

Without a word like he really needed the whole night to just end, Jake leaned down and swept one arm behind your knees and the other around your waist, lifting you easily against his chest. You hummed and rested your head right in the crook of his neck, your fingers knotting into the fabric of his hoodie. The heat of your breath against his skin made him shudder but he managed to carry you up the stairs to your dorm door.

"Keys?" He gently asked, not wanting you to fully wake up from the sleep you were already entering. "In my purse."

He was able to fish for them with you clinging to him and found a way to unlock your door, kick it open with his foot and carry you inside. He set you down gently on the bed and placed your boots and purse neatly by the door.

He knew he should leave because the second you woke up tomorrow and realized he was the one who picked you up, the disguise would blow up in his face. But before he could even pull back, you drunkenly snapped right out of your drunken sleepy spell and changed the subject completely, babbling at a hundred miles an hour.

"And another thing!" You announced loudly, waving a lazy hand in the air, your words running together in a slurred mess Jake found adorable. "Sloane's birthday dinner? Oh, it was a disaster, Jace. Complete disaster. You know why?"

Jake lingered right in front of you. "Why?"

"Because she has some absolute bitches for friends," you stated with utmost seriousness, pouting so hard your lip practically stuck out. "Like, total, certified mean girls. One of them looked at my outfit tonight like I was wearing a trash bag. A designer trash bag, maybe but still a trash bag!"

A laugh burst out of Jake's chest before he could stop it. He had always been helplessly charmed by you but this was new—you were funny as you grinned triumphantly, like you were proud of yourself for making him laugh and then you slumped back into the pillows. "I wanted to put her in her place so bad but it was Sloane's birthday and gosh I love Sloane so much. She's basically your sister in law." You giggled like you made a joke only Jace would get but Jake didn't get it.

As Jake stood there watching you giggling to yourself, a wave of crushing regret and bitter jealousy hit him hard. You were so funny like this. So real, affectionate, cute and so so unfiltered. Jace got to see this side of you all the time, this silly Y/n who laughed freely and let her guard down. Jake had spent years only getting the defensive glares and the cold shoulders, all because he was too wrapped up in his own anger to show you who he actually was. And while he was getting a glimpse of heaven right now, he had to remind himself that it was built on a lie.

"Get some sleep, Y/n," he spoke softly.

"Jace, wait." You slurred out, reaching up and grabbing his hoodie. Your grip was weak but it stopped him anyway. You squinted up at him and pulled your brows together as if the fog in your brain was finally starting to clear just enough to notice something was off. "Why do you...why do you look so sad?"

"I'm not sad," Jake lied immediately, trying had to make his voice sound convincing. "I promise. You're just tired and you need to rest up."

He eased your fingers free from the hem of his hoodie, he needed to leave fast. He quickly helped you settle beneath the covers, tucked you in and then paused, sweeping his eyes over the room. Knowing how much you had consumed, he grabbed the small plastic trash can from under your desk and placed it right beside your bed, within easy arm's reach cause he had a very strong feeling you were going to throw up at some point during the night.

Giving you one last look as your breathing slowed into sleep, he quietly slipped out of your dorm and left the building as fast as he could.

Many times, he contemplated leaving Jace a text, just a brief message to let his twin know you were safe, how you had called him by mistake and everything that had just happened. But every time he thought about typing such text, he pictured Jace's disappointed eyes and decided against it. Jace wouldn't listen, he'd probably just assume Jake was crossing boundaries again.

Minutes later, when Jake was lying flat on his back in his own bed and staring up at the dark ceiling, sleep was just impossible. His mind was practically vibrating from the insane influx of information he had just been handed.

You actually did love him. Or, at least, you used to.

His mum had been right all along, you didn't hate him because he was inherently unlovable, you hated the walls he built and the bitter distance he forced between you two.

He rolled over to nuzzle his face in his hands as a twinge of regret pierced his chest because knowing the truth didn't make the air any easier to breathe. Rather, it made the weight ten times heavier. Knowing you had once wanted him didn't mean he had any idea how to fix the broken pieces now or how to make you look at him without seeing the monster he had let himself become.

Jake had no idea when he actually managed to fall asleep, only that when it finally happened, it felt less like resting and more like slipping into a coma.

The next thing he knew, he was being forcefully pulled out of said sleep by someone yelling his name, the muffled shouts echoing off the hard surfaces of the clean apartment.

"Jake!"

A door slammed open down the hall, followed by the furious clatter of boots against wood.

"Jake! Where the fuck are you?!"

The voice was breathing hard and barreling through the rooms like a storm looking for a place to strike. Jake lay paralyzed on his mattress for a fraction of a second, he could feel his heart pounding in an immediate panic but his fogged mind struggled to process the sound, struggled to bridge the gap between his lingering dreams and reality, until the cadence of the voice finally registered.

It was Jace.

Groggily, Jake shoved his duvet off his legs and swung his feet onto the cold floor, rubbing his hands over his face to force his eyes open. "Jace...?" He called out, his voice deep from sleep.

He didn't even make it three steps toward the bedroom doorway before the door was thrown wide and hitting the drywall with a slam. Jake didn’t even get a chance to create to the sound before a pair of hands slammed into his chest and shoved him backward with enough force that he stumbled back a few steps.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Jace barked, his face was red in anger and his eyes were wide and burning in anger.

Jake reeled back, lifting his hands defensively in front of his chest, still swaying slightly from disorientation. "What...what are you talking about? What?"

"Don't you play fucking stupid with me!" Jace yelled at him, stepping right into his personal space and pointing a finger directly into Jake's face. "Don’t sit there and pretend like you have no idea what you did!"

Jake blinked against the daylight flooding the room, of course he knew what he did, there’s only one reason Jace could be here yelling at him.

"Jace, just calm down for a second—"

"Calm down?" Jace responded with a harsh laugh, pacing a tight circle on the floor before snapping his eyes back to Jake. "I woke up an hour ago to a text from Y/n. Want to guess what it said? She was thanking me. She texted me thanking me for coming to pick her up from that club downtown and making sure she made it back safely."

Jace stepped closer again to his twin before delivering the other half "Except I didn't leave my dorm last night, Jake. I was with Jungwon all night and we fell asleep so I didn't go to pick her up. And there is only one other person on this entire planet she could have mistaken for me."

Jake's posture straightened as the sleep faded from his system and a flare of defensive heat rose up his chest. He took a step back and matched Jace's glare with a cold look of his own. "She called me, Jace." Jake said, his voice rising from how frustrated Jace was making him. "What do you think happened? You think I was just driving around that part of town at midnight looking for drunk girls to pick up?"

Jace crossed his arms tight over his chest as he glared harder at his twin. "Honestly, Jake? I wouldn't put it past you."

His words settled between them and normally, in the old days, like two weeks ago, before everything had shattered, that sentence alone would have been the exact trigger to blow the room apart. Jake's fist would have flown before his brain could even process the insult. He would have slammed his twin against the wall and proved every single vicious thought Jace had about him right.

Instead, Jake just stood there with his chest rose and fell but his hands never left his sides. He slowly shook his head and a look of quiet dissatisfaction settled over his features.

"I'm not going to fight you, Jace." Jake said calmly. "I'm not doing this with you."

Jace blinked, like he was momentarily thrown off by the lack of explosive rage but his jaw remained set and his eyes stayed burning.

"I did the right thing," Jake continued, staring his brother dead in the eye. "She was wasted, Jace. Standing outside some sketchy ass club in the middle of the night, slurring her words and thinking she was talking to you. I was going to hang up and call you—I really was. But I know damn well that if my name popped up on your phone at midnight on a Friday, you wouldn't have picked up. You would've let it go to voicemail thinking I was having another episode."

Jace opened his mouth to snap back but Jake cut him off by stepping forward until they were barely a foot apart. "So tell me, dear brother." Jake demanded, "What was I meant to do? Leave her stranded there? Let some random walk up to her while she was barely standing? I picked her up, brought her to her dorm, put her to bed and I walked out. That's it."

"And you know what else?" Jake added, like it was slipping out before he could stop it. "You're the one that promised to pick her up and you didn't go. Too busy shacking up with your man or whatever. So really, who the fuck is at fault here?"

Jace flinched as if he'd been struck and his chest hitched like he was about to say something but Jake didn't give him room to speak.

"You're looking for a fight and I'm not going to give you one," Jake said but now his tone was drained of heat. "Just see yourself out."

"This is my apartment too, Jake," Jace snapped.

Jake didn't even bother to respond, he had already turned his back on his twin to walk away from the confrontation and head straight back toward his bed, just ready to pull the sheets over his head and block out the rest of the world for another hour or two.

"I told you when we were seventeen to stay away from Y/n." Jace spoke after him, stepping fully into the room now. "And right now, I'm telling you again—stay the fuck away from her."

Jake stopped his feet and slowly turned to meet the pair of eyes burning holes into his skin. "Or what?" Jake asked softly.

Jace's eyes widened slightly and again, he was caught off guard by the unyielding challenge in Jake's eyes. But Jake didn't stop there. He walked around the side of the bed, moving deliberately toward his brother, every inch of his body felt tense, like he was radiating years of suppressed rage.

"No, really. What the fuck are you going to do that you haven't already done, Jace?" Jake asked in a louder voice. "What are you gonna do? Continue to hide the fact that she was in love with me too? Take it to your grave?"

The color drained from Jace's face for a fraction of a second but his expression quickly hardened into a contemptuous sneer. "Oh, please," he scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock disbelief. "You really want to take some stupid childhood crush seriously?"

"Oh yeah? And since when do childhood crushes last up to freshman year of college, Jace?"

Jace opened his mouth, like a sharp retort was sitting right on the tip of his tongue but no sound came out and for the first time since he had stormed into the apartment, Jace was totally at a loss for words, his defensive posture faltered as the silence stretched further between them. He didn't have a defense, Jake knew there was no lie he could spin or justification he could give that would erase the fact that he had kept that truth buried for years.

His jaw twitched, his throat was working hard as he seemed to swallow down his pride. Unable to meet his brother’s unflinching glare any longer, Jace's eyes darted away toward the floor. He squared his shoulders, as if to desperately try to piece back together whatever authority he had left but the cracks in his composure were wide open by now.

"Just..." Jace started, totally stripped of his earlier explosive rage. "Just stay the fuck away from my best friend, Jake. I mean it."

Without waiting for a response, Jace turned sharply on his heel. His heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway before the front door slammed shut behind him with a deafening, final thud that rattled the picture frames on the wall.

Jake stood alone in the quiet of his bedroom, his chest heaving as the echo of the door slamming gradually faded into complete silence.

"Just..." Jace started, his voice strained and lower now, stripped of its earlier explosive rage. He pointed a tense, trembling finger at Jake's chest, leaning in one last time. "Just stay the fuck away from my best friend, Jake. I mean it."

Jace didn't wait for Jake to say anything else, he was already turning to leave and Jake just stood there listening to his footsteps fade down the hallway before the front door slammed shut that it rattled the picture frames on the wall.

Jake's shoulders didn't drop for five minutes after he left, his body felt heavy again, like his muscles were aching in that same way. He was starting to feel like a brand new person cause this Jake immediately grabbed his medication and swallow, followed by the rest of a bottle of water on his nightstand. He was about to toss the bottle in the trash when his phone burst to life on the wooden surface with a call.

Jake was willing to let it go to voicemail but the caller caught his eye—Jay.

Out of all the guys in his fraternity, Jay was one of the very few Jake actually respected and was tolerate. Jay wasn't like the rest of the frat brothers who enjoyed the surface level pleasures, Jake could've easily branded him the most level headed person he'd ever met, he was sensible and rarely got dragged into useless drama, so if Jay was calling, it was usually important.

And that's why Jake picked up. "Hey, Jay," Jake said into the phone.

On the other end of the line, an unruly irruption of sound immediately hit him, there was the muffled sound of a speaker playing somewhere outside. He could hear the chatter of a crowd and the sound of the wind like they were in the middle of a backyard kickback.

"Jake! Man, where the hell have you been?" Jay's voice came through, loud but genuine as usual. "It's been like three days since anyone at the house saw your face. Are you good?"

Jake rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his palm down his jaw as he stepped out of his bedroom and walked into the living room. "Yeah, man. I'm fine." He lied without missing a beat. "Just...been handling some stuff at home."

"Alright, well, as long as you're alive. The guys were starting to think you went completely off the grid," Jay said with a short laugh.

As Jake was about to respond, a giggly female voice broke through the speaker on Jay's end, it was loud enough to cut over the background music. "Jay! Who is that? Who are you talking to?"

"It's Jake," Jay replied away from the mic.

"Jake?!"

Oh no.

A quick squeal of thrill reached Jake's ear, followed by a brief rustle of static like the girl grabbed the phone directly out of Jay's hands.

"Jakey!" Her voice sang into the receiver, immediately heavy handed and flirty. "Oh my goodness, where have you been hiding? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Jake froze in the middle of his living room, his brows pulling together as he tried to match the voice to a face. His mind was a total blank, he couldn't remember her face, let alone her name but he knew her voice was familiar. She was the one of a girls he'd been hooking up with for the past month or so.

"I literally left my top at your place last week," she huffed playfully. "I've been needing it back so bad. Can I come over right now to pick it up? Are you home?"

"Oh hi...you." Jake greeted awkwardly, attempting to play along to cover up the fact that he didn't have the faintest clue who he was talking to. He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing around the clean surface of the coffee table and the back of his sofa. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, you can come pick it up."

Holding the phone tightly between his shoulder and his ear, Jake walked back to his room and actively began searching for the top.

"Oh yay! I'll be there real soon."

When the call finally ended, Jake tossed his phone onto the bed and ran a hand through his messy hair.

Finding the random pieces of clothing girls would leave behind used to be easy when his place looked like a hurricane had hit it but ever since the cleaners had gone through the apartment, everything was impeccably neat. Every surface was wiped clean and every stray item had been safely tucked away.

That's why it took him nearly twenty minutes of digging through his closet and then the stack of folded laundry before his fingers brushed against a cropped piece of fabric. He pulled it out and held it up by the straps, only to scoff at the sight of it. It was the most basic black tank top imaginable, something that couldn't have cost more than five dollars. She obviously didn't care about the shirt and it was just a weak excuse for her to come back over to his place.

He walked back out to the living room and set the top on the arm of the couch, then he pulled a meal prep container out of the fridge and quickly heating it up so he could force himself to eat every bite. Once he was done, he headed straight into the bathroom to wash off the film of the morning's drama that was hard to ignore.

He was vigorously rubbing at his wet hair after his shower and just as he reached the living room, an expectant knock hit the front door.

"Timing's great." He muttered to himself, dropping the

towel around his neck and grabbing the top off the arm of the sofa, just ready to hand it over and send her on her way.

But when he pulled the door open, she had other plans. He extended his arm to her with the piece of fabric in it before he even fully looked up. "Hey."

"Here's the top." The girl with her oversized sunglasses pushed up onto her hair didn't reach for it. She quickly pouted and crossed her arms over her heavy chest instead. "Really? What? You're not even gonna invite me in?"

"I'm actually pretty busy right now," Jake threw out, taking a small step forward to block the entrance.

"Oh, come on, it'll take two seconds." She rolled her eyes, already sliding right past his shoulder into the apartment and because she had spent the night there a bunch of times, she didn't hesitate for a second before heading straight to the kitchen as if she owned the place. "I am absolutely parched, Jakey. You have any iced coffee?"

"Look, you really need to go," Jake said to her as he followed her bouncing frame, his patience wearing dangerously thin. "I have stuff I need to deal with today."

She completely ignored him, opening his fridge and humming to herself as she scanned the shelves. "Ugh, the frat house has been so boring without you these past few days, Jakey. Honestly, it's been a total drag. Some guy from lacrosse tried to hit on me last night literally ten minutes after he came out of a room he was fucking my friend in. Like, gross, right?"

She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, snapped the cap off and took a long sip, simply blatantly ignoring Jake's rigid posture and icy expression.

Jake leaned back against the edge of the kitchen island, tossing the black tank top onto the countertop beside him. "I'm serious. You got your shirt, now you need to head out."

Instead of moving toward the door, she closed the distance between their bodies, stepping right into his personal space so she was standing just inches away from where he leaned against the island. She tilted her head back to look up at him, intentionally arching her back so her low cut top left very little to the imagination as his gaze dropped for a split second.

"You're so tense." She drawled, reaching out to rest a manicured hand lightly on his bare chest, right over his collarbone where the towel was still resting. She looked up through her lashes, before dropping her tone into a suggestive whisper. "I really missed you, you know? You've been making yourself so hard to find."

Jake had to actively suppress the urge to cringe right in her face. The way her eyelashes fluttered and the exaggerated pout of her glossed lips felt so intensely performative that it almost made his stomach turn.

Before he could take a step back, both her hands slid up from his chest and wrapped tightly around the back of his neck, digging her nails into the skin just above his towel. She arched up on her tiptoes and tugged him down until their faces were barely an inch apart.

"Well?" Her eyes searched his face and she was clearly unbothered by his lack of enthusiasm. "Are you gonna answer me, Jakey? Did you miss me too or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?"

Jake looked down at her, desperately trying to summon a name. Kylie? Chloe? Ashley? His brain remained a frustratingly blank.

She was pulling out every single classic play in her book, every calculated and seductively slow move that would have worked on him without a second thought just a week ago. Seven days ago, he would have picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and taken her straight to his bedroom without asking a single question, just to use her body to drown out whatever residual noise was rattling around in his head.

But right now, none of it was working. The touch of her hands on his neck felt almost invasive, the smell of her perfume wasn't sweet this time.

The only reason he hadn't immediately untangled her fingers from his skin and marched her straight out the front door was because his brain was currently burning alive. The sound of your voice all soft and slurred, confessing that you had wanted to love him was still ringing in his ears. Jace's furious face, accusing him of crossing boundaries and being intrusive was flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinked.

The unbearable load of regret and anger was pressing down on his chest so hard that he could barely draw a clean breath.

He needed a distraction, needed something, in fact anything to make the noise stop, to tear your face out of his head and burn down the memory of his twin's accusations.

So his hands moved before his rational mind could stop them. Jake reached down his to grab her small waist with a firm pressure that had her gasping. He pulled her flush against his body, leaning down until their lips were close.

"Mm. You wanna remind me why I missed you?"

He just needed to lose himself in the mindless effort it would take to fuck this girl, all he wanted to do was drown out you and his brother, even if it was only for an hour or two.

When she tiptoed up to kiss him, he didn't pull back, leaning into it and encouraging her instead, his hands moved lower to grip her hips before lifting her completely off her feet. He hoisted her up and set her down on the edge of the island, the startling movement sent a stray glass sliding an inch to the side.

She let out a soft moan against his mouth as her hands moved, she even reached down to take his hand and guide it under her shirt, pressing his palm flush over her breast for him to squeeze. Jake obliged, his fingers tightened lazily over her skin as he groped her like he was just going through the motions.

Except something was deeply wrong because even with the heat of her body and the desperate way she was clinging to him and the low noises she was making as she kissed his neck, his body simply wasn't responding the way it was supposed to. Between his legs, he was completely numb. Yes, his heart was racing but it wasn't from desire, it seemed to be from the adrenaline of trying to force a reaction that wasn't there, in other words—he was flaccid.

She worked a trail of wet kisses down the side of his jaw, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered something breathless and needy. Jake squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as he tried with everything in him to concentrate, he was trying to picture anything or anyone that’ll get his body to cooperate and drown out the mental noise.

Realizing the kitchen island was only making him feel more detached, he reached under her thighs and easily picked her up off the counter. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, giggling happily into his neck at the new shift as he carried her out of the kitchen and down the dim hallway toward his bedroom.

He tossed her onto the mattress with a soft thud, the heavy blankets shifted under her weight when she tumbled back. Her giggles buzzed against the quiet of the room, so high and eager, she was already pushing herself up onto her elbows and looking up at him through heavy lids, she really wasn’t wasting a second, quickly scrambling forward on her hands and knees across the bet to reach out and tug his sweats down.

Jake stood over the edge of the bed, panting in shallow breaths while his mind was still feeling like thunderstorm. He wanted this to work, he needed this to work.

She yanked the sweatpants down over his hips, pulling his underwear down with them. Then she froze. Of course she did, he still wasn’t hard one bit.

Her hands hovered right near his thighs as her eyes registered what was in front of her, the man wasn’t even showing a trace of an erection.

"Oh...?" She hummed, her flirtatious smile was already faltering into a look of confused disappointment. She tilted her head up to look at his face and a sharp spike of mortification hit Jake like a bucket of ice water, burning hot across his chest and cheeks. He quickly gave an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Ah...sorry," he muttered in a strained voice. "Just...give me a minute, yeah? It's been a long morning."

"Take your time, Jakey." She said sweetly but Jake could hear the faint edge of impatient judgment in her voice and it only made his skin prickle more. She sat back on her heels and watched him with expectant eyes.

Jake looked down at himself, biting his inner cheek so hard he tasted blood. He grabbed himself, wrapping his fingers around his cock as he stroked it roughly, he needed to summon the physical response that usually came so easily but his body felt detached from his brain, he was numb to the touch of his own hands and numb to the girl sitting on his bed waiting for him with her tits out.

Come on, he growled at himself internally. Come on. Get it together.

Frustrated, he squeezed his eyes shut to cut off the sight of the bedroom and the girl on the bed. He was trying to think of anything that turned him on, any primal thought that could pull him out of his own head and force his blood to pump where it was supposed to. He tried to recall old memories, random hookups, dirty videos, anything that had ever worked before but nothing stuck. Everything washed away in the overwhelming fog of his own exhaustion.

And then, unexpectedly, his mind supplied a memory from just a week ago and it wasn’t even a sweet memory.

It was you, standing on the cold sidewalk outside, illuminated by the warm streetlights, your chin tilted up as looked at him like he was the scum of the earth. He heard your angry voice slicing right through him, berating him, calling him every horrible thing you could think of, screaming at him for ruining everything.

He remembered the intoxicating power you held over him in that exact moment, the burning fervor in your eyes locked onto his, demanding his undivided attention, caring enough to hate him with every fiber of your being. It hit him like a lightning strike and his pulse spiked immediately, the blood rushed south and in seconds, before he could even push the image of you out of his head, his cock twitched and hardened in his hand until he was throbbing and leaking.

He opened his eyes to look at his, almost not believing it was real. The girl's eyes widened as she watched the sudden transformation, she let out a delighted laugh. "Well, damn," she beamed as her earlier annoyance disappeared instantly. "Guess you really just needed a second."

Without waiting another beat, she leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around the base of his length, taking him deep into her mouth.

Jake threw his head back, his fingers tangling in her hair, he couldn't deny that she was good at what she was doing. The physical sensation was undeniably amazing, she was swirling her tongue effortlessly around his sensitive tip, gliding down his length and taking him deep into her throat without even a hint of a gag.

Every wet suck sent a jolt of pleasure straight up his spine, forcing involuntary grunts to leave his lips. Yet, as good as it felt physically, his mind was miles away, still held hostage by the thought of you.

A wave of humiliation washed over him, turning his stomach into a tight knot. He had never felt so utterly wrecked and exposed in his entire life. How the fuck had the vivid memory of you tearing into him, screaming at him, scolding him with those furious eyes give him a rock hard boner when a gorgeous, willing girl naked on his bed couldn't even make him twitch?

Was it some sick, twisted masochism? Or was it simply the terrifying reality that it was you? That even your rawest anger and deepest hatred were more intoxicating to him than anyone else's pleasure?

He felt filthy. Was he really so tragically gone for you that even the memory of your anger was the only thing capable of pulling him out of a slump?

It was a dangerous realization, like a true loss of control that made his skin feel like it was burning from the inside out. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, gripping her hair tighter until she whined.

And then, just as he was getting close to edge, her tongue was doing wonders, the warmth of her mouth slipped away abruptly, her hands released his hips too and his eyes snapped open. He looked down at her sat back on her knees and staring up at him with a frown. Her lips were slick with his precum but it was the way her eyes narrowed with both confusion and rapidly mounting offense that threw him off.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"Who the fuck is Y/n?" She snapped in a clipped way that definitely wasn’t flirty or sexy anymore like it was minutes ago.

Jake froze and if he was about to deny it, he’s pretty sure the speed at which his features lost color would’ve given him away.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Don't what me, Jake." She sneered, throwing her hands up in utter disbelief as she scrambled backward toward the headboard, pulling the top sheet over her naked chest. "You just said her name. You moaned it, actually."

"No, I didn't," Jake said instantly, in all honesty he had no idea if he had actually said your name. "I didn't say anything. You're mishearing things."

"I am not mishearing things!" She shouted out of nowhere. She pointed a sharp finger straight at his face, her eyes widening even further as a memory seemed to click in her head. "Wait...hold on. Isn't Y/n that girl always trailing your brother around campus? His best friend?"

The room suddenly felt like a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding. Every muscles in Jake’s body locked all at once as panic gripped him tight.

"Shut up," Jake hissed at her. "Just shut the fuck up. You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Oh, really?!" She screeched louder, throwing the sheets off her legs and scrambling off the mattress with embarrassed rage. She grabbed her discarded top off the floor and held it to her chest. "I don't know what I'm talking about? I literally had your whole dick in my mouth and you're groaning another girl's name!"

"You are fucking unbelievable! You could've just said you didn't want me here. You could've just told me you weren't in the mood instead of pulling this psychopathic shit!"

"What the fuck are you on about?!" Jake barked back at her as she walked out of the room, he was pulling his sweats from his ankles, yanking them up over his hips and following her into the hallway.

"I told you to leave like three fucking times! I literally blocked the front door! You're the one who forced your way inside, went to my fridge and came onto me!"

"Whatever, Jake! Whatever!"

Her voice hit a piercing frequency, like the sting of rejection had morphed into total scorn. "I can't even believe this! You're actually sitting here fantasizing about your brother's best friend? Are you insane?"

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth." Jake snarled, stepping right into her space and towering over her frame.

"Why? Because it's the truth?!" The girl was unbothered by his glare, now that her pride was completely shredded. "Isn't Y/n basically like your fucking sister?! You guys grew up together! That is so incredibly sick, Jake. You are an absolute weirdo. A pathetic, sick fucking weirdo—"

"Just get the fuck out!" Jake yelled, his voice booming off the high ceilings as they spilled into the living room. His fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were stark white, his chest heaving as he pointed a rigid finger straight toward the front door. "Get your shit and leave my apartment right now!"

"Gladly!" She snatched her purse off the island with a clatter. She spun around like she was about to deliver one last insult but the words never came.

The front door was swinging close and standing right in the middle of the living room with Jace’s spare key dangling loosely from trembling fingers was you.

Your lips were parted and your breath panting in your chest while your wide eyes were darting between the half dressed girl standing in the middle of the living room and a shirtless Jake in stunned horror.

Every single word she had just shrieked had clearly met your ears, every accusation, every mention of your name, every sick detail of what had just transpired in his bedroom, they were still resounding off the walls of the living room.

The world around Jake went fully mute, like the ringing in his ears was melting into a sickening stillness as his eyes locked onto yours.

The girl's mocking laugh cut through all that very quickly though. "Oh my God," she wheezed in fake amusement as she looked between your frozen frame and Jake's stiff body. "Not the Y/n actually showing up. Wow. That is just...that is rich."

She turned toward you, crossing her arms over her chest with a malicious smirk. "Do you know that your childhood friend thinks about you when he's getting his dick sucked?"

Before another word could leave her mouth, Jake snapped, as if the last of his restraint broke. He crossed the short distance between them in one terrifying stride, his hand shooting out to lock around her wrist. He didn't say a word or even yell. He just hauled her backward, yanking her straight to the door and ignoring the offended gasp she let out, he was already slamming the door in her face though.

"I...I'm sorry," you stuttered out.

"I was looking for Jace," you blurted as the words tumbling out of your mouth in a desperate attempt to explain away your presence, seeing as you’ve never been here before. "His...his location said he was here. I was just worried he wasn’t answering his texts but...I uh I guess it's just his phone he left behind."

You pointed at the floor near the entryway rug.

Jake followed your line of sight to Jace’s phone, sitting right beside the baseboard, it must have slipped out of Jace's pocket during his explosive exit earlier and he just didn’t notice.

Jake stared at you, just speechless as you quickly bent down and scooped the phone off the floor, slipping it into the back pocket of your jeans with shaking hands.

"I'm...I'm just gonna leave now," you refused to even look him in the eye as you backed up toward the threshold again, your fingers blindly reached behind you for the doorknob. "I'm sorry. I'll just go."

The humiliation of the whole situation, the lingering chemical haze in his system and the agony of having you standing right there, looking at him like he was a complete freak, it all exploded into another wave of defensiveness.

"Yeah," Jake muttered under his breath, turning his back to walk to his room. "You're real good at that."

The words were low but in the quiet apartment, they hit like a whip crack.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You scowled at him.

Jake stopped by the couch and grabbed a shirt he had tossed there earlier and yanked it over his head in a harsh move. "It means what it means," he started, staring you right in the eye. "You're fucking amazing at running away, Y/n. It's basically your signature move."

"What the fuck does that mean, Jake?" You doubled down, stepping further into the apartment and letting the door click shut behind you. Your voice rose, trembling from leftover hangover nausea and a new anger. "I literally just walked into your apartment while you were—while some naked girl was screaming at you! I came here looking for Jace! What the hell are you even talking about?!"

Jake laughed in your face but it was a humorless laugh as he rubbed a hand aggressively over his face, only to push his damp hair back off his forehead. He took a long breath, before just waving an offensively dismissive hand toward the door.

"Whatever," he tossed out flatly, like he was trying to shut it down before he completely lost his mind. "Forget it. Just go."

"No. No, absolutely not," you snapped, planting your feet firmly and placing your hands on your hips as you glared at him. "Tell me what you meant. You don't get to say shady shit like and just tell me to leave. Tell me what I'm running away from, Jake."

"From me!" The sudden volume of his voice shattered the fragile air between you. He took two steps forward until he was looking over you. "You run from me! You run from whatever the fuck happened between us and you run from your feelings for me!"

You stared at him as your mouth helplessly dropped open in bewilderment, right before your features hardened into a wall of resistance. "I don't have any feelings for you, Jake."

"Are you out of your mind? I have never had feelings for you. Unless you’re talking about how much I hate you."

"Sure," Jake scoffed and smirked but it didn’t match the way his eyes looked broken. "Sure you don't. Newsflash, Y/n—I don't know if your brain was too fried from all the alcohol to remember anything from last night but I was the one who came to pick you up from that sketchy club downtown."

You blinked at him, your hands dropped from your hips to your sides as you stumbled over your own tongue. "What...? What are you...no, Jace took me home—"

"Yeah, Jace," Jake cut you off, throwing his hands up in mock celebration. "Oh great guy, Jace! Except Jace was sound asleep in his dorm with Jungwon all night! It was me, Y/n. I answered your call. I got in my car at midnight, drove twenty minutes downtown and dragged your wasted ass off the sidewalk!"

"You're such a liar," you whispered but you couldn’t ignore the dread you left as you flipped through your drunken memories from last night. "You're lying to make me feel insane—"

"Am I?"

"Do you want me to list everything out for you? Do you want me to remind you how you slurred your words into my shoulder while I carried you up three flights of stairs?"

"Stop it," you pleaded while your chest started to feel tighter. "Jake, stop—"

"You told me all about how I make it hard for you to love me," he just kept going even with pain in his voice vibrating off the walls. "You told me you loved me all the way up to freshman year. You said it, Y/n. You said it right to my face! Mrs Jake Sim"

"Stop!" You screamed and shoved his chest with both hands with enough force to make him step back. Tears of mortification were already spilling over your eyelashes. "You had no right! You had no fucking right to be there! You should have called Jace! You should have left me alone!"

"You called me!" Jake shouted back, throwing his arms wide in complete frustration. "You called my number! And even if you thought you were calling him, what was I supposed to do, Y/n?! Leave you stranded on the side of a dark road in the middle of the night?!"

"Why does everyone in my fucking life act like I'm some kind of monster?!" Jake yelled, his voice cracking down the middle. "Why does Jace and why do you think I'm horrible enough to just leave you stranded out on the road, just helpless for some random guy to pick up?! For fuck's sake, Y/n, no matter how much you hate me, no matter how much shit has gone down—how could you ever think I wouldn't come get you?"

"You are horrible, Jake," you spoke so calmly that it made Jake shiver but he was laughing right after.

"I'm not." He shook his head. "I'm not, Y/n and you know I'm not. If I was really as horrible as you keep pretending I am, you wouldn't have been so in love with me for that long."

Watching your wide eyed reaction, Jake saw the realization hit you like a train but he couldn't stop the dam from bursting. He had kept these poisons locked in his chest for far too long.

"I know I've been a bad person," he started. "I know I've fucked up! I know I've pushed everyone away, I know I've made terrible choices but I am trying, Y/n. I am trying so hard to fix myself and to make things better."

A tear finally escaped his right eye but he didn't even bother to wipe it away.

"Do you have any idea?" he choked out as each breath scraped his lungs. "Do you have any fucking idea how long I've been in love with you? Did Jace ever tell you how I was the one who wanted to take you to the dance? Did he tell you how my whole family basically bullied me out of it?"

Your heart slammed against your ribs so hard it felt bruised.

"Did I ever say a single word when you gave Jace all the credit and all your love for that necklace?" Jake continued as his eyes dropped down to your chest where said necklace sat. "The one you still wear around your neck every single day?"

He pointed right at the delicate chain tucked beneath the collar of your shirt.

"I got you that, Y/n." Jake sobbed out softly but a bitter smile was touching his lips as well. "I spent four months saving up my allowance to buy you that thing. I think I actually gave it to your mum but somehow you just assumed it was Jace."

The floor seemed to shift under you suddenly remembered Wednesday in the dining hall, when Jungwon had asked about it and Jace had no memory of buying it when you claimed he did, you had teased him for having such a terrible memory that he couldn't even remember buying his best friend her favorite piece of jewelry.

Except there was no memory for Jace to have, he hadn't forgotten buying it—he had never bought it at all.

It had been Jake. It had always been Jake, standing in the corner, watching you give his brother all the love, all the smiles and all the credit for a gift he took time out to get for you, while he took the blame for being the distant and heartless twin.

You had no idea when you started to sway where you stood but the room was spun sideways as the crippling heaviness of his confession hit you all at once. It was like the narrative you had spent years carefully constructing and believing was crumbling into dust and the next thing you knew he was catching you from falling.

"Woah—hey," Jake breathed out with his voice now filled of protective concern, his hands shot out to catch you by the waist, steadying your weight before you could lose your balance completely. The new proximity was so sudden and when your palms reflexively landed on his broad chest, all you could feel was the erratic beat of his heart.

The heat rolling off him was almost stifling the narrow space between you and when you slowly tilted your head up, your eyes wet with tears met.

Jake was also left in pieces, his eyes were glossy too but also lined with exhaustion and stripped of the usual cocky defiance you were used to. He looked down at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor, like you were his whole world while his thumb was brushing a shaky circle against the side of your waist through the fabric of top.

The silence hanging in the air was so fragile, both of you knew it was stretched to its absolute breaking point but Jake still spoke.

"Please," he started, voice barely louder than a breath. "Please tell me you still love me, Y/n."

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, Jake Sim loved you? Jake Sim loved you too?

"I—I’ve never stopped loving you."

New tears blurred your vision and poured down your face as you looked up at him through the haze. "You made it so hard, Jake...why did you do that? Why did you love hurting me?"

The heartbreak in your voice knocked the air right out of his lungs and his face contorted into a look of remorse.

"I'm sorry." His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you a fraction closer as if afraid you'd vanish, like his next words would have you leaving. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/n. I was a child...but that doesn't even excuse a single thing I did. I was a fool. A blind and arrogant fool and I just…I didn't have the maturity to handle what I felt for you, I didn't know how to love you right."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead directly against yours, making you feel his uneven breath fanning over your lips.

"I can make it right," he pleaded in a desperate whisper, using his thumb to brush away a stray tear on your cheek. "I can make it right now, Y/n...if you just let me. Please, just let me."

You had no words left, every wall you had built over the years to keep Jake Sim out was gone, every argument burned away by the passion hanging between you. Your bodies were pressed flush together and his chest was rising and falling against yours with his hands placed tightly to your waist. This was the closest you had ever been to him, way closer than the years of stolen glances, closer than the shared childhood memories, closer than the bitter screams in your memories.

His lips were right there, inching barely a breath away and calling out to you in a way you had spent years trying to ignore and heaven help you, you couldn’t fight your feelings for a single second longer, you leaned up and kissed him.

Jake was immediately inviting, how could he not be? His mouth opening against yours with a starving fervor that made your head spin. His hands slid down to firmly wrap around your thighs, hauling you up just enough that your feet were barely tiptoeing on the hard floor but you were pinned directly into his heat and that’s all he wanted.

The kiss deepened in a matter of seconds, slick with tongue and an eager battle of years of unspoken yearning finally breaking through. When he parted his lips from yours, he dragged his mouth down the sensitive path of your jaw, burying his face into your neck and kissing over your skin, sending a helpless whimper tearing from your throat.

Your impatient self couldn't take the space, you were already reaching up and tangling your fingers tightly into the locks of his hair to forcefully tug his head back up and capture his lips again.

Jake groaned into your mouth and reality crashed over him through the sensory overload, he felt the dangerous momentum building between you two, he really did try to create a inch of distance, his hands shifted to press gently against your shoulders.

"Wait—Y/n, wait," he rasped out, trying to catch his breath. "Let’s—let's just breathe for a second—"

But it seemed like you weren’t having it, you were far too deep, too consumed by the thought of him actually loving you as heartbreakingly as you loved him.

Without pause, you grabbed the hem of your top and yanked it over your head to toss it blindly onto the floor. Before he could even process the sudden flash of your bare skin and commit it to memory, you reached for his shoulders again and jumped this time, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist so he was forced to catch you.

Jake’s arms reacted on pure instinct and his hands shot out to firmly scoop under your thighs, supporting your entire weight as his chest heaved against yours and looked up at you like he was putty in your hands, you could ask the man to kiss your feet right now and he’d do it without thinking.

All you could think of in that moment was how many nights you had spent deep in this exact fantasy. A stray thought crossed your mind—would the girl who had just stormed out get a kick out of finding out that you had always fantasized about Jake, too? That all her cruel insults were useless because you had wanted him just as terribly?

Jake turned and carried you straight down the hallway toward his bedroom, your legs locking firmer around him and your hands buried in his hair. He was fully aware of the sickening irony that you were the second girl he had carried down this exact hall in the space of two hours but as he looked up at you, he knew you were the only one that actually mattered.

When he set you down on the edge of the mattress, his hands lingering on your hips for a fraction of a second before slipping away. He just stood there, just frozen and watching as you kicked off your shoes and shed your jeans. He was totally enthralled by you, taking in every single inch of bare skin like a man seeing water after a lifetime in the desert.

Following your lead, he quickly stripped off his sweatpants. "You're so gorgeous, Y/n." He said to you. "So fucking gorgeous."

He closed the distance between you again, leaning down to capture your mouth in another deep kiss, his hand slid around to your back and his fingers made quick work of your bra clasp. The front popped loose and as his palm immediately cupped your bare breast, his thumb and forefinger lightly pinched your sensitive nipple.

A gasp broke against his lips, one he could feel in his chest. His grip tightened around your waist as he pulled you along with him and sat back on the edge of the bed, guiding you to straddle his lap. As you settled over his thighs, you tried to ignore his bulge poking against your thong, he was already leaning down to bury his face in your chest, taking one of your nipples deep into his mouth.

He sucked it into mouth, swirling his tongue around the peak until your hands scrambled for purchase against his broad shoulders and your back arched further into him. "Mmm Jake." You moaned out, unable to help the way your hips began to roll and tilt over his lap.

Jake grunted against your breast, gripping your thighs to keep encourage your movements, moaning at the feel of your wet folds against the bulge in his boxers. He was about to switch to your other breast but before his mouth could move, your hands shifted up to his shoulders and you firmly pushed him back.

He let himself fall at your will, landing flat against the mattress with a laugh. "Oh, okay," he grunted softly, a smirk full of ecstasy catching the corner of his lips as he looked at you.

You shifted your flimsy thong to the side and you your body turned in his lap, reversing your position so your back was to him. He didn’t get the chance to even ask what you were doing before you were lowering yourself over his face, bringing your wet folds right above him.

Jake’s eyes widened at the view but he quickly regained composure and his hands immediately locked around the sides of your hips and he knew exactly what to do.

He also knew he was amazing at it, too and an arrogant confidence settled into the way his hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

He parted his lips and buried his mouth right into your dripping pussy, wrapping his wet mouth around your swollen folds. The first touch of his tongue sent a shudder straight through you, making you moan instantly.

"Nghh—Jake. Fuck."

He seemed to be taking his time with the way he glided his tongue deliberately around your throbbing clit, setting a steady gentle tug that made your hands scramble wildly for purchase against his knees and the sheets. The heat of his mouth was utter torture, every flick of his tongue kept hitting the exact right spot, precisely driving you over the edge until your hips began to roll helplessly against his lips and you were riding his face not even caring if you smothering the man.

Jake was just as drunk on the pleasure as you were, so lost in the scent and taste of you as you rode his face, also not caring that you were smothering him. His hands dug firmly into the plush of your thighs and add, holding you down against his mouth as his tongue worked in the best strokes you’d ever felt.

"Ohh shit! J—Jake!" You sobbed out. "Mmm yes."

He met every roll of your hips with long, wet licks, sealing his lips tightly around your swollen folds. Every time he got a moan out of you, he vibrated a muffled chuckle straight into your skin, just loving every second of how you were using him. He loved the total weight of your body pressing over him, loved the helpless way your thighs shook against his ears and he loved knowing that every winded gasp echoing through his bedroom was because of his mouth.

"God, fuck...you taste so good, Y/n," Jake said against your wetness. "So fucking good for me."

Overwhelmed by the fervor, you tried to reach down for the waistband of his boxers. "Need...need yo—," You attempted to speak but your words were cut off when he wrapped his lips around your clit and started to suck just like he did your nipple.

You hooked your fingers under the elastic and dragged his boxers down just far enough to free his thick length. You were totally driven by the desire to drive him just as crazy as he was driving you, you adjusted and lowered your head down toward his lap to take his cock into your mouth. But the moment the warm head brushed past your lips and tasted his precum, Jake swirled his tongue directly over your clit again and your entire train of thought shattered.

"Oh god Jake! Your tongue—! Ahah—!" You cried but your voice was muffled with his shaft slipped into your mouth.

The pleasure was simply too much for you to function, so you ended up just resting your lips over the head of cock. “Mmmph...Jake, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whined softly around him, not able to actually suck him off the way you intended because your mind was far too fractured. You just hovered there, moaning and trembling, letting your hot mouth wrap around his tip while you rode the wave of agony his tongue was pounding into you.

Jake let out a moan of his own into your folds as your moans vibrated directly against his cock. His hips twitched up beneath you, his nails curled into the softness of your thighs while he picked up the pace.

"It’s okay, love. You don’t have to suck it, just moan around it." You heard him say. "Mhmm, just like that. Let me feel you."

He shifted his focus to your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over the swollen knot in fast licks that grew sharper and faster with every second.

"Jake—Jake, stop, wait—!" You wailed sitting up as your whole body started to shake cause you were right at the verge of cumming. "I'm—ah!"

He realized you were about to try to run away so he held on tighter as your back arched and your thighs trembled uncontrollably against his head.

"Can I put a finger inside you?" Jake asked you but the tone of his voice made you completely freeze up.

There was no suave or cocky authority in it. It was thick with desperation in a way you hadn’t expected.

"Please, Y/n," His whines were softly muffled against your pussy and a small, pathetic sound caught in his throat as his forehead pressed hard against your hip. "Fuck...please? Just one. Let me..."

You gasped, the shock of it really cut through your pleasure. For years, you had built up this image of Jake in your head—imagining that if he ever got you into his bed, he would be completely in control, demanding and just ruthlessly dominant. But here he was, literally squirming beneath you, with his voice high and breathless while he begged for your permission like a boy who couldn't bear the thought of taking a single thing without you giving it to him first.

A squeal tore from your throat. "Yes! Yes, Jake, please—"

The moment the words left your mouth, he let out a needy breath of relief and not wanting to waste another second, he slid a thick finger deep into your tight heat.

"Ah! Jake! More!"

"God, you're so damn tight...fuck," Jake said, his other hand trembling as he began curling his finger downward, desperately seeking out that one spot inside you.

He didn't hold back at all, already pumping his finger in and out in deep thrusts, opening you up and working you until your pussy gushed wet heat all over his hand. The whimpering noises he made against your skin were unhinged, he was practically sobbing into your core as his tongue lapped up every single drop of slick pouring out of you while he continued to finger you. He moved his tongue on your clit, turning your moans and cries into music like he was begging you with every stroke to just let him give you more.

Before you could even catch your breath or get used to the finger inside you, Jake slid a second finger right beside the first.

"Jake…that’s..hmmm yes!"

He pumped them in and out so good, crooking them downward to hit places deep inside you that you couldn't possibly reach on your own. Every targeted thrust had you bucking against his face, losing your mind over the depth he was reaching.

Driven completely out of his mind too, Jake latched back onto your clit again, harder this time like he had forgone all restraint. He was gloriously messy about it, sucking hard, spitting and slurping at your swollen pussy with loud, wet noises that bounced around the room. A continuous moan coiled straight from his throat directly into your pussy as your wetness gushed freely, running down his jaw and dripping onto his neck.

He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, but instantly replaced them with his tongue. He thrust it deep inside your entrance, curling and working it to stretch your pussy as far as it would go, mimicking the exact rhythm of his fingers while his hands clamped onto your hips to keep you still.

In the blinding veil of it all, you managed to lift your heavy eyelids open and through your blurry vision, you looked down past your chest to find Jake’s hips twitching involuntarily against the mattress, his thighs shook with every stroke he gave you. His hard cock was twitching against air, unattended with steady stream of precum leaking from the tip and making a path down a prominent vein.

He was so overtaken by giving you pleasure that his own body was weeping for relief, yet completely at your mercy. You watched with lust as he shifted his heels firmly into the mattress, digging them in as his hips began to thrust up into the bare air.

Watching him twitch and squirm beneath you was intoxicating and driven by curiosity and a sudden surge of power, you reached down to wrap both of your hands tightly around his leaking cock.

"Ahhh—no, please—!" Jake yelled into your pussy, his whole body jerked at the sudden contact and his hands tightened on your hips so hard his knuckles turned white. "Y/n, fuck, don't—"

But you didn't listen, you twisted and pumped your hands over his slick length, establishing a tight rhythm. The combination of your hands working his shaft and the taste of you on his tongue threatened to send him completely over the edge. His tongue started faltering, like he was losing all focus, even starting to slur unintelligible words directly against your wet folds.

"Oh...shi—, Y/n...please..." He begged but his hips were thrusting upward directly into your grip and he was chasing the friction of your palms with needy little twitches.

You were simply amazed at the sight, the sight of this loud, guarded, stubborn guy completely unraveling in your hands, whimper for whimper, totally at your mercy. He was so close, he knew he as and he couldn’t stop his core from shaking as he bucked into your touch.

"I'm—I'm gonna cum—Stop! Shit, Y/n, I'm gonna cum! P—Please!" He cried out and before he could let go completely, he suddenly grabbed your wrists and stopped your pumping hands in their tracks with a harsh tug.

He was flipping you over quickly and the world spun as he manhandled you onto your back, pinning your wrists beside your head as his bigger frame settled over yours.

He closed his eyes for a painful minute, the he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a low stream of curses into your skin, every muscle in his shoulders locked tight as he fought back the edge he had almost tumbled over.

"Fuck...fuck," he groaned in a shaky voice. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to look into yours with nothing but desperation. "I was so fucking close...but I can't. I want to make love to you first, Y/n. Please? Can I please?"

You didn't answer with words, you reached down between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his pulsing cock to line the thick head directly against your drenched hole.

Jake gasped at the sensation, his hips twitching forward but as his hand moved down to shove your thong further out of the way, the thin lace gave out under his eager grip, tearing down the middle with a loud rip.

He paused for a second, looking at the torn fabric hanging in his hand. "Oh...I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking back up at you but the expression on his face completely betrayed him—his eyes were blown out with lust and a faint smirk tugged at his lips that showed he wasn't really sorry at all.

Before you could scold him for it, he grounded his hands firmly into the mattress on either side of your head, resting the hot tip of his cock against your entrance, his jaw clenching as he slowly began to push inside.

"Jake...mmh, wait—it's so big..."

The moment the words hit his ears, Jake had to tightly shut his eyes again. "Don't—fuck, Y/n, don't say that," he pleaded with a voice so strained as he fought the urge to just slam all the way home.

Realizing how tight you were around him, he forced his hips to stay still for a moment and reached down between your bodies, using his thumb to find your swollen clit and began to rub soothing circles against it, deliberately trying to coax your body into relaxing for him.

"Breathe for me, love," he whispered against your skin, leaning down to press soft kisses to your lips, then to your cheeks and down to the corner of your jaw.

As your body melted under his touch and the tension in your thighs began to give way, Jake took advantage of the shift, groaning low in his chest and slowly pushing the rest of his cock all the way inside your tight pussy, burying himself to the hilt.

The sheer feeling of him stretching you to your absolute limit was overwhelming and every small shift of his hips brought another helpless whine spilling from your lips.

"Jake, fuck...it’s too big," you repeated, your fingers dug into his shoulders as your breath hitched in your chest. "You’re so...ah, Jake...Mm my pussy."

Jake gave a tormented grunt, trying to pull back just an inch to establish a new pace but your walls were clamped so tightly around his length that he could barely move.

"Y/n, shhh—fuck, stop whining like that." His words choked him. He buried his face into your neck again, like he was fighting for control. "You’re so fucking tight, love...I swear to God, if you keep making those noises, I’m gonna cum right now."

He managed to stay completely still for a second, locking his hips flush against yours while his breath came out hot against your skin, he was trying with everything in him not to lose his mind inside you before he even truly started.

Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, blurring the sight of him as he finally established a deep pace. The sheer size of him, mixed with how deep he was sinking into you with every roll of his hips, made your head spin.

"Jake...fuck," you moaned out as you looked up at him. "You’re—you’re in my stomach..."

Jake’s eyes snapped to yours, suddenly drunk on how vocal you were being for him. A possessive spark lit up his face. "Where?" he asked, pausing his hips for a second but making sure he was deep. "Where, my love? Show me."

Shaking uncontrollably, you lifted one hand from his shoulder and pointed to the lower curve of your belly, right where you could feel the solid pressure of his cock stretching you.

A melting look softened his sharp features and a breathless coo escaped his lips as he looked down at your hand. "Right there, doll? Hmm? I'm right there?"

You gave a quick nod, so pathetic while your bottom lip trembled as more tears ran down your face.

"Fuck, you're so sweet for me," Jake was undone by the sight and now driven by the urge to get even deeper, he

reached down and grabbed your ankles, hauling your legs up and tossing them directly over his shoulders.

The new angle opened you up completely, plunging him straight to your absolute limit in one sharp, powerful thrust.

"Oh my god! Jake! I—I can’t!" The new depth hit the sensitive sweet spot inside you that Jake had been looking for.

"Mm? You like that?" Jake growled out, a triumphant smile catching on his lips as he picked up the pace a little more. His broad palms slammed flat against the mattress beside your head and his hips thrusted into you with a faster pace, every deep stroke brought out even louder moans that drove him out of his mind.

"I want to cum...fuck, Jake, I want to cum so bad!"

The unbearable coil in your lower belly tightened to a breaking point and driven wild by the deep pounding, your hand scurried down between your sweaty bodies. Your fingers found your swollen clit and started rubbing fast circles over the tender nub. That made your walls clamp down on his cock harder, literally sucking him deeper with every involuntary pulse.

Every nerve ending in his body screamed at him to just let go and cum inside your pussy right then and there.

"God—You’re driving me crazy, Y/n."

He dug his knees into the mattress, the muscles in his shoulders and thighs locked up as he fought with everything in him to keep his own orgasm at bay. He refused to end it yet, too intoxicated on the sight of you taking him so well, too addicted to the unfiltered sound of your moans and the loud slapping of your bodies colliding together.

"That's it, love…mmhm take it," he grunted through his gritted teeth, pushing his hips forward in intentional grinds that pushed your fingers directly into your clit. "Cum for me. Come on. Let go."

The unrelenting pressure inside you snapped all at once and a gasp was caught in your throat as your orgasm shattered through you like an earthquake. Your pussy walls contracted so tightly and with so much force, that you practically expelled his cock, pushing him back out of your entrance as your whole body arched off the bed.

Jake let out a startled noise, eyes dropping down to look between your legs where your pussy was pulsing in hard waves and your folds were fluttering, literally soaking the mattress beneath you in hot gushes that spurt freely over his thighs and the rumpled sheets.

"Fuck...fuck, Y/n." Jake gasped out, awestruck as he stared down at the wet mess you were making all over his bed.

"Hmm...no, don't look!" You squealed, as embarrassment suddenly washed over you, you threw both hands over your eyes, trying to hide your face from his gaze.

"Don't look?" Jake echoed but his voice was so dark with possessive satisfaction that you had to look at him. "God, I am so fucking in love with you. Look what you did to my bed, love."

You couldn’t even offer him another word of defense or tell him that you loved him too, he had grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. You gasped as he gathered your hips, pulling your lower body back to bring your trembling thighs flush against his.

Then he guided his thickness right back against your pussy. "Look at you hiding your face like you didn't just wreck me."

He was already thrusting and pulling you back to meet him. "Oh fuck mr! Jaeyun! Yes yes yes!" You screamed into the pillow.

Jaeyun?

Now that he had already seen you completely unravel, all his restraint was gone. His grip on your waist got tighter and began pounding into you with a powerful rhythm. Every thrust was harder, faster and deeper than before, the wet slapping sound of his hips against your ass hit your ears as he took you over and over again.

"I love you, Y/n." Jake grunted right against the shell of your ear. He slammed forward, his hips drove his fat cock straight into exactly where you needed it. "Fuck...I love you so much."

You couldn't even form proper sentences anymore, your body was reacting on pure instinct and your tight walls were pumping slick cream all over his shaft with every single hit.

"Oh godddd! Jaaaake!" Your hands clawed at the sheets beneath you. "Right there—fuck, right there Jake!"

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby...I can't even think straight..." He pulled your body up so your back was to his chest and his palm was pressed to your belly, right where he could feel his cock thrusting into you.

The confession plus the blinding sensation of his cock grinding against your sweet spot, broke down whatever remaining barrier you had left.

"I love you too!" You threw your head back against his shoulder. "I love you, Jake! Ah—!" "You—You’re going to make me cum again!"

Hearing those words spill from your lips was the final straw for Jake, he gave one last guttural sound from the back of his throat, his grip tightened around your stomach as he placed kisses and bites on your neck, his thrusts turned fast and unhinged as he chased his own final peak right along with you.

He grabbed you by your hair and slammed you down into the pillows, pinning your face firmly as he delivered his final thrusts. The possessive weight of his hand held you completely anchored, leaving you helpless under his hips.

"Cum with me, love." "Fuck...cum on this cock right now. Please."

"Yes! Yes, Jake!" You responded, sliding your arm between your wet thighs, you pressed your palm flat against your swollen clit, slapping and grinding against the swollen knot.

The visual shattered whatever fragile hold Jake had left, watching your hand work wildly over your clit while he pounded into you, mixed with the tight spasms of your walls suddenly clamping down around him again, it all pushed him right over the cliff.

"Fuck—! Y/n!" Jake roared, his entire body locking up, he slammed his hips all the way forward and shoved his thick length to the absolute hilt deep inside your pulsing pussy. His chest heaved as he came violently, an endless torrent filling you up completely as your body shuddered under his. His grip on the back of your head softened into a tender hold, his forehead dropped to the pillow beside your head as you both rode out the overwhelming waves of your shared release.

Jake collapsed over you, carefully keeping most of his weight propped up on his forearms, refusing to crush you. His skin sweaty just like yours and when he shifted his weight, reaching down to wrap a thick arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest because he wanted nothing more than to hold you close while your heartbeats slowed together.

"Hey..." he called out to you and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"Don't." you choked out, pressing your hands hard against his broad chest.

Jake’s heart almost stopped beating. He looked down at you and his brow squeezed together in instant confusion. "Y/n...?"

As the feverish haze of the moment rapidly cleared, the air in the room suddenly turned cold and when he looked down into your face, he didn't see the soft look of someone who had just confessed their love. He saw the sudden panic and a crushing look of regret staring back at him and a sharp spike of fear shot straight through Jake's chest,

"No...no, wait," he muttered, watching as you forcefully pushed yourself up off the mattress, breaking away from his touch as if his skin burned you. "Y/n, baby please wait,"

"Don’t—Don’t call me that, Jake. We...God, we shouldn't have done that."

"What?" Jake sat up instantly, not knowing what to do while you searched the room for your discarded clothes . "Y/n, what are you talking about?"

You didn't look at him, your hands were trembling so badly you could barely function as you frantically searched the floor, snatching up your shirt and scrambling to pull the pieces of your clothes together.

"This was a mistake," you whispered. "Jake, I...I have to go."

"Y/n, stop! Please, talk to me!" Jake panicked, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and quickly pulling his boxers on. His eyes were wide and terrified as he realized you were pulling your clothes back on, the confident, loving man from seconds ago entirely shattered by the sudden distance between you.

"Look at me! Please, don't just leave like this—what do you mean a mistake?"

"I mean we shouldn’t have had sex!" You blurted out loudly, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your top. The panic in your chest was consuming, making your hands shake so badly you could barely button it. "Oh God...what would Jace say?"

Jake went completely still. "What?" Jake asked in disbelief. "Jace? What the fuck does Jace have to do with this?"

You didn't answer, you just couldn't, so you grabbed your shoes from the floor, desperate to reach the door and escape the room. But before you could take two steps, Jake moved, stepping directly into your path, using his hands to grip your shoulders gently and blocking the doorway. His touch wasn't forceful but it was solid enough to ground you and stop your escape in its tracks.

"Y/n, stop. Just—please, calm down for a second so I can speak." He pleaded, eyes searching yours. He took a deep breath, sliding his hands down to wrap around your trembling wrists.

"Look, I know I sound like a broken fucking record by now," Jake started, "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Yes, I know we shouldn't have just had sex right now. I know the timing is fucked up and I know everything between us is so complicated. But I can't take it back, Y/n. And...Fuck me, I'm not even sure I would take it back."

You were already starting to cry again.

"I know I can't ever take back the things I've done to hurt you," Jake continued, softly stroking over the pulse points on your wrists with his thumbs. "I know I fucked up in the past. But by God, Y/n...I want to try. I want to learn how to love you the way you actually deserve to be loved. I'm so done running from this." He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw as he addressed the name hanging like a rainy cloud between you.

"And Jace?" Jake said softly, looking straight into your eyes without flinching. "I know he's going to have his reservations. I know he's going to hate me and I know he's going to try and protect you from me. And I'm ready for that. I'm ready to deal with whatever Jace throws at me because losing you again? Not fighting for you right now? That's the only thing in this whole fucked up world that actually scares the shit out of me."

The tears welling in your eyes fell down your cheeks and Jake’s thumb quickly brushed them away. His own eyes were glossy as he continued to speak.

"I know I can't fix everything in a day, or a week, or a month," he whispered. "I know it might take a whole fucking year—or longer. But however long it takes for me to make it up to you, Y/n...I'm here. I'm not going anywhere this time. I am fucking anchored to you."

He took a shaky, ragged breath, his broad palms rising to cup the sides of your face, holding you like you were made of glass, like he was terrified that one wrong move would cause you to shatter right through his fingers.

"I've been in love with you my whole life," Jake confessed, "I know this is what I want. I've always known. I want the fight, I want the mess, I want every single piece of you. But...if you don't want this? If being with me hurts too much, if looking at me just reminds you of everything I broke...I'll understand. I'll step back and let you hate me."

You stood utterly frozen in his hold, the violent trembling of your shoulders slowing as his words settled deep into your chest. You looked up into the dark depths of his eyes.

Through the wet sheen of your tears, the light caught a warmth in your expression, there was something undeniable and overflowing in it, like a quiet truth you couldn't hide even if you wanted to.

Just pure love.

Jake's eyes widened as he caught it and his grip on your jaw tightened just a fraction, his heart hammered in his chest as he waited on the cusp of his entire life. Your lips parted and a ruined gasp left them as you opened your mouth to finally give him your answer—

‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

The fabric of the silk floor length gown, the jaw dropping piece you knew for a fact had cost more than your entire university tuition, courtesy of Jake’s ridiculously deep pockets, well it was currently bunched in heavy folds around your waist.

Instead of walking out the door toward the car, you were pressed flat against the back of the small sofa in the entryway, your heels digging uselessly into the rug as Jake buried his face between your bare thighs.

"Jake—fuck, stop!" You gasped out, your fingers tangling frantically in his styled hair. "We don't...Oh fuck—! We don't have time for this!"

He didn't listen, apparently sight of you stepping out in the backless dress had wiped his composure off the map and now his hands were locked around your thighs, holding you pinned while his tongue lapped relentlessly at your dripping center.

Every time you tried to push him away, he’d flick his tongue just right over your clit, turning your stern protests into embarrassingly pathetic moans that were music to his ears.

"I'm serious!" You whimpered, your head falling back against the cushion as a heavy surge of heat coiled low in your belly. "Jace and...oh God, Jace and Jungwon are going to kill us if we're late for their anniversary dinner!"

A low vibration hummed straight against your wet folds as he chuckled and the vibration alone sent a shudder straight to your belly.

"I’ll handle them," Jake’s voice came out completely muffled, his words slurred against your drenched skin before he clamped his lips over your clit and sucked hard, letting go cause he just couldn’t shut up. "They can wait...you look too fucking good to leave this room..."

He flicked his tongue deep into your entrance, tasting the slick mess he was making of you, his hands pushed harder into your hips to pull you even closer into his mouth, just indifferent to the clock ticking down on the wall.

His tongue got messier, slicker and even ruthless, sending wet licks all the way up to your clit before dragging his tongue straight back down into your tight entrance and shoving it in.

"Jake, nooo—your shirt!" You tried to remind him as you felt the crisp cotton of his dress shirt against your inner thighs. "You're gonna ruin it, baby, come on—"

"Don't give a fuck," he grunted out against your skin, not slowing down at all.

His mouth went completely wild, lapping at you with heavy, frantic strokes as he used his grip on your waist to guide you into riding his lips.

The angle was lethal, your heel clad feet were kicking in the air from the pleasure and as you dug your fingers deep into his scalp to keep yourself steady, the small band of the gold promise ring he’d given you for your six month anniversary pressed firmly into his skin. The subtle bite of the metal seemed to turn him on even more and a low groan rumbled through his chest.

A breathless smile broke across your face, followed by a helpless little giggle as the pleasure began to build in your belly.

"Jake...oh God, it feels so good," you whimpered out, your hips rolling helplessly over his tongue. "I'm—I'm gonna cum, Jake, I'm so close!"

"Mmh I know, baby. Cum on my face," he encouraged, squeezing your hips to keep you riding his mouth through the rising tide.

Your back arched as a breathless cry tore through you, your whole body trembling as a drenching climax crashed over you. Your inner walls fluttered desperately, flooding his mouth with your sweet release.

Jake didn't miss a single drop, holding you firm and humming in satisfaction as he greedily licked up every trace of your orgasm, lapping at your sensitive folds until you were completely weak and breathlessly melting back into the sofa cushions.

He grinned up at you from his position on the floor, then he stood up to help you slide your panties back up over your legs, smoothing the delicate fabric over your hips with entirely too much care. But the second they were in place, his palm came down with a stinging slap right against your ass.

"Hmm...mine," he rumbled with a smug grin.

Before you could swat his hand away, he was kissing your lips and taking your hand to his hair so you could tug at his hair just the way he likes. But as your fingers tangled into his locks and his tongue parted your lips, your thoughts drifted backward, sinking deep into the blurred timeline of the past year.

It really hadn't changed overnight.

Those first few months had been a delicate tightrope. As expected, Jace had been violently skeptical, refusing to even sit in the same room as Jake without a tense silence filling the air. There were nights you spent crying, terrified out of your mind that loving Jake meant losing Jace forever. But slowly, so painfully slowly, they had started the long process of repairing what had been broken. It wasn't perfect but the wall between the twins was finally coming down, inch by inch.

Your mind flashed back to the day you finally sat down with their family, terrifyingly nervous, to announce that you and Jake were officially together. You had prepared a whole speech, only for their mom to look up from her tea, roll her eyes dramatically and mutter, "Finally. It only took you two a decade." Before giving you a hug.

When Jake’s tongue brushed against yours, you remembered last summer at the Sim lake house. With the heat, the smell of pine and freshwater, the endless sound of laughter echoing off the dock with Jace, Jake, Sloane, Jungwon, and even Jay. You had spent the days swimming until your skin burned and lounging in the sun, surrounded by the people who mattered the most.

Jake really couldn't keep his hands off you for more than a few hours at a time that entire week. The memory of him sneaking you away from the group to drag you behind the boat house or locking the door to the guest cabin, just to push your sundress up or shift your bikini bottoms out of the way and bend you over whatever surface was closest because he was so starved for you.

You moaned into his mouth, kissing him deeper as you remembered the morning after one particularly loud night in the cabin, sitting at the breakfast table while Jay and Sloane relentlessly teased you about the wooden bed frame creaking through the thin walls until sunrise. Before you could die of embarrassment, Jake had just casually raised an eyebrow as he poured his coffee, instantly turning the blame on his twin and his boyfriend, claiming they were the ones keeping the whole house up with their own late night activities. The sheer chaos that exploded at the table after that had given you both just enough time to slip away unnoticed again.

"See? Perfect," Jake bragged, breaking the kiss and snapping you out of your head, pointing to his spotless shirt. "Didn't ruin it at all. You worried for nothing, baby."

"You are unbelievable," you muttered, rolling your eyes but the softness in your chest from every memory brought you right back to him, grounding you completely in the present.

Jake just chuckled, stepping in close to wrap his arms around your waist. He pulled you flush against his chest and leaned down, pressing another lingering kiss directly to your lips and now that you weren’t elsewhere you could taste yourself on his lips.

"I love you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes softening into that warm, devoted look that always made your chest ache.

"I love you too," you murmured back, then he leaned back with a dangerously playful spark lighting up his eyes. A smirk spread across his face as he offered you his arm.

"Shall we...Mrs. Jake Sim?"

Your jaw dropped. "Jake! Stop!" you squeaked out, smacking his shoulder in pure embarrassment as you tried to hide your face from him. "Stop teasing me with that! Oh my God, I was like six!"

"What? It's a nice name," he teased, laughing softly as he caught your hand and kissed your knuckles then your wrist, definitely enjoying how flustered you were over the childhood nickname you used to call yourself. "Okay, okay, I'll stop."

He offered you his arm again, leading you out the door toward his car but as you stepped into the hallway, a quiet determination settled deep in his chest.

Until I make it true, he thought to himself.

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© nephynes 2025

following her around the mall like two lost pups, both hands occupied by endless shopping bags as she bounces from one store to another, the sound of her newly bought kitten heels echoing through heeseung and jake’s ears whilst their eyes are glued to the back of her pink little miniskirt swishing around, barely covering a thing. geez, such perverts! (˶˃𐃷˂˶)

and then comes their favorite part of the day. their hearts practically leap out of their chests when your eyes catch a glimpse of their your favorite lingerie store, dragging them inside cluelessly to ask for their opinions as you naturally did with all the other stores, questioning them on which color looks good on you the best. their hungry gaze trailing your every move almost going unnoticed by you.

and who are they to say no when you ask them to join you in the dressing room to help? you might be an airhead, but you’re not that stupid to not notice them ogling you the entire day. plus, you think they deserve a little treat for putting up with you and your shopping addiction. so when they tower over you from the front and the back, trapping you between themselves, all you can do is let out a pleased hum as jake kisses you rough on the lips, not wasting a second while his slender fingers play with your hardened nipples through the lace bra he had picked out minutes before.

“look at her jake, such a pretty mess for us already..” heeseung mumbles before pressing a soft kiss against your neck. his hands slid down your bare waist, knee in between your thighs and pressed against your soaked core, making you mewl against jake’s lips.

you then decide that shopping with these two will be your favorite part of the week from now on.

The party’s been going on so long that the air has turned moist and the alcohol has begun to taste more like water instead of something dangerous.

Yunjins laughing at something next to you, her eyes half lidded and her limbs moving languidly. If it’s from the weed or the sheer gallons of vodka you’re sure she’s consumed tonight you aren’t entirely sure. What you are sure of though, is that you have definitely far surpassed the thin line between tipsy and black out drunk.

The weed makes your thoughts jumble together like some weird jigsaw puzzle, and every word that you manage to punch out takes way more effort then it probably should.

“But, seriously,” Jungwon starts, his words languid and low, “sex is kind of transactional. At least in this day and age.”

Yunjin attempts to smack his arm but instead she misses him completely and her hand lands between the couch cushions. She doesn’t bother moving it.

“That is sooo not true,” she drags out. “Sex is, like, sacred. Your body is a temple and all that bullshit.”

Jungwon laughs. “Maybe for other women, but I’m not sure if your body could be considered sacred anymore, Yunjin.”

She scoffs, her eyebrows furrowing in what might look like offense, but you know deep down she enjoys the easy banter her and Jungwon always seem to have. “Says the one who sticks his dick into anything that has a pulse!”

You are perfectly content to just listen to their conversation, as it would seem is Sunghoon.

You’d met Sunghoon your freshman year of university when you were still a small town girl in a city that felt way too big for you. He’d sat next to you in your freshman econ class and helped you around the city without so much as a whisper of a complaint, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since.

He’s always been the quiet brooding type, even when you’re around your mutual friends, and that’s become something you’ve found yourself finding comfort in more often than not. His presence is a consistent force in your life, and now that you’re nearing graduation and heading into unknown territory, it’s nice to have something so steady in your life.

That’s why you didn’t argue when he threw his arm around your shoulders and insisted you sit next to him. It’s why you didn’t argue when he offered you the blunt despite knowing you always get way too clingy when you’re high.

Sunghoon is your best friend. You trust him, and you know he feels the same way towards you.

You lean back into his arm, continuing to nurse the beer you’d had for the last hour. It makes your head feel warm and fuzzy in all the right ways, especially after whatever the fuck midterms had been. A disaster would be putting it lightly.

Sunghoon glances at you, his lips still enclosed around the blunt. He takes a drag of it, letting the end glow a bright orange before he pulls it away from his lips and offers it to you.

You accept it graciously, letting the smoke fill your lungs until you’re positive they’ll burst. You’ve never really been a big stoner, not like Ni-ki and Jungwon, but when you do let yourself indulge you always enjoy it.

Sunghoon watches when you exhale, his eyes following the cloud that forces its way from your lips and disperses around the room. For a moment, you think he almost looks impressed.

You laugh, your hand reaching out to shove at his chest gently. “What?” You ask.

He blinks, the movement slow, like he’s working overtime to process that you’d said anything at all. “What?” He echoes.

“You’re looking at me weird,” you mumble, dragging your eyes back to Yunjin and Jungwon. They’re still arguing over whether or not sex is transactional or whatever, and Ni-ki is just watching them like he can’t decide if he’s interested or if he wants them to shut up completely.

Sunghoon chuckles, the sound low and deep. You bring your gaze back up to him and watch as his lips curve up into that same lazy smirk he always seems to wear. Sometimes you wonder if that’s just his natural resting face.

“Was I?” He mumbles, choosing to play dumb. 

You’re not in the right headspace to argue with him, so instead you just sigh and let yourself sink further into the curve of his arm. His thigh is right against yours, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin lining on your tights. If it was anyone else, you’d probably feel a little self-conscious at being so close, but this is Sunghoon. He’s never shied away from physical touch, and at some point it just became another factor in your friendship.

The sound of your name forces your thoughts about Sunghoon to fade into the background, and when you look up Yunjin is staring at you like you’ve said something shocking. Which is weird, because you don’t remember saying anything at all.

“Huh?” You manage, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to work through the cloud in your mind.

Yunjin rolls her eyes but repeats herself anyway. “Do you think sex is transactional?” She asks before throwing a fiery glare at Jungwon. “Or is Jungwon just a grade A asshole?”

…Sex? She’s asking you about sex?

Usually you wouldn’t mind indulging in her less than ethical questions, especially when you’ve had a few drinks, but this one feels a little personal.

It’s not that you haven’t had sex, you have! Plenty of times actually, with a plethora of different men. Boyfriends, casual hook ups, one night stands – you’ve really done it all.

There’s just one teeny, tiny problem.

You can’t finish.

You used to blame it on the men you were seeing. They clearly had no idea how to please a woman and thus you were the one suffering for it. But then you’d tried to get yourself off with your hand and, well…nothing happened. So then you tried a toy and still – nothing.

It didn’t take you long to realize that it was clearly just something wrong with you. You’d self-diagnosed yourself as one of those unlucky women that simply couldn’t orgasm, and yeah, it sucked, but it was your life. How could you miss something you’d never even had anyway?

And it’s not like the buildup isn’t enjoyable, because it definitely is. It just never goes where you want it to, and you always end up feeling dissatisfied after. So you’d stopped trying completely after yet another failed attempt last year and that had been that.

You hadn't sworn off sex completely, you just stopped actively searching for it. And it was nice to not have to fake reaching your peak with every man that found his way into your bed, but that didn’t make the subtle jealousy you felt whenever Yunjin talked about her experiences disappear completely. It just made it more bearable.

You choose to just shrug, taking another sip from the bright red solo cup in your hand. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask that question.” You snort.

Yunjin raises a brow, genuine confusion washing over her features, before she seems to finally remember. “Ah,” she breathes, slumping back down into her seat. “Right. I forgot.”

Yunjin is the only person you’d confided in about your problem. She was supportive, of course, but she still sometimes told you that she thought it was all in your head. That you had some kind of mental block when it came to orgasming, but you couldn’t help but feel like that was a little silly. Why would your mind keep you from reaching what most women described as the ultimate pleasure? If it was, then that was just plain cruel.

The conversation starts to move on again, but Sunghoon glances at you and then swiftly brings it back around. 

“Hold on,” he starts, eyebrows furrowed. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Yunjin asks.

He pulls his arm away from your shoulders and uses his now free hand to gesture between you and Yunjin. “That,” he insists. “You asked her her thoughts on sex and then just blew past it.”

Yunjin glances at you, meanwhile your cheeks suddenly feel like they're burning. Why does he even care what your thoughts on sex are? It’s a silly question, one that you’ll probably forget anyone even asked in the morning, and yet he’s choosing to focus on the one minute thing you said in the entire debate.

Which wasn’t even anything ground breaking! You just said you wouldn’t be the right person to ask, that was it.

So why is he taking such an interest in it?

“Um,” Yunjin starts, her gaze finding yours before returning to Sunghoon. “Why do you care?”

He doesn’t even falter like you’d expected him to. Instead, he leans back and pulls you closer into his side. “Am I not allowed to be worried for my best friend?”

You swallow and attempt to put some distance between you, but he doesn’t let you. If anything, he just pulls you even closer. All the way until you’re sure you can taste the remnants of cologne on his clothes and the weed on his breath. 

“Sunghoon,” you laugh, the sound coming out more nervous than anything else. “It’s nothing. Don’t get so worked up about it.”

But he doesn’t seem to like that answer either. “So something happened?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that–”

“Then what?”

You pause, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. If you had all your inhibitions in check, you probably would’ve resisted telling him in such an open space. Because even though Jungwon and Ni-ki are trying to make it seem like they aren’t listening, you know they are. At least Yunjin doesn’t try to hide her nosiness.

You know that realistically Sunghoon is just worried for you, he is your best friend after all. You’d be worried for him too if he suddenly got weird when the topic of sex got brought up, but still, you wish you were admitting this to him somewhere with a little more privacy.

You lean back into the cushions, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Sunghoon, always so in tune with your emotions, immediately reaches a hand over to smooth down your hair. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” He asks, his voice lowered so that only you can hear him. “You know you can tell me.”

And that’s the thing, you do know. And it should be easy telling him, because you know it’s not like he’ll judge you. If anything, he’ll probably be more sympathetic towards you then Yunjin is.

But, still. There’s something about telling him that makes shame burn deep in your cheekbones.

You shrug, your fingers toying with the edge of your skirt. “It’s embarrassing.”

He grins, all teeth and crinkled eyes. He’s staring at you like you’re something precious, like you’re something he has to handle with care. Not like you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions when it comes to her sex life – or lack of one.

“Nothing about you is embarrassing.”

That’s what finally breaks you. You sigh, words slightly jumbled together and voice so quiet you’re shocked he can even hear you. “I can’t,” you gesture with your hand lazily. “You know. Finish, or whatever."

He blinks. One moment passes, and then two. You’re on the verge of thinking you’ve somehow made him uncomfortable when suddenly he’s laughing like you’ve said something hilarious. “What?”

Yunjin tosses a pillow at him, but he just lets it hit him square in the chest and doesn’t spare her a glance. “It’s not funny, Sunghoon!” She defends. “It’s a serious condition.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t have time to focus on her because Sunghoon is quickly invading your senses again. “I’m not making fun of you, baby,” he mumbles, lips dangerously close to your ear. “It’s just…cute. That’s all.”

It most definitely is not cute. It’s humiliating, if anything. The one thing you’re supposed to be able to count on your body to do for you, it refuses to. What kind of woman can’t even orgasm?

“No, it's not,” you groan, running a hand down your face. “It’s weird.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything to that, but you can tell something in his expression has shifted. He’s eyeing you now like you’re some kind of anomaly he wants to figure out. Like your condition is something that’s piqued his curiosity.

You aren’t entirely sure how you feel about that.

The night continues easily – everybody's too drunk or high to focus on whatever little blip it was you’d had. Even you forget about it after another round of drinks.

But Sunghoon doesn’t. He can’t. 

Even when he goes to bed that night, every time he closes his eyes all he can see is you. His pretty little best friend. Sexually frustrated and somehow thinking there's something wrong with you.

To Sunghoon, that’s utterly absurd. Clearly these men you’ve been with don’t know how to handle you, and that’s not your fault! No, what you need is someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who will actually listen to what your body needs and doesn’t just chase his own pleasure.

What you need is…him.

And Sunghoon is a good best friend. He always has been. All he’d be doing is helping you, really. Just a friend helping out a friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The next week passes by just like it normally does. You go to class and try not to think about the fact that you definitely bombed your exams. Everytime you walk into a lecture, fear creeps up your spine at the thought of your teacher handing over a test with your name on it.

Sunghoon is there to help you through the anxiety though. He comes to your dorm every night with a bag of nerds gummy clusters and his laptop. 

You always start the night exactly how you plan to. Sunghoon helps you study, you both pretend to give a fuck for an hour or two, and then you end up side by side in your bed watching reruns of your favorite sitcom. It’s a simple routine that you’ve come to cherish, one that you don’t even remember starting. It honestly felt like one day he’d started showing up and then he just…never stopped.

“You know,” you mumble, popping another cluster into your mouth. “I think we’ve watched this show so many times we could probably recite the whole thing.”

Sunghoon shrugs, his glasses hanging off of the bridge of his nose. He reaches up and pushes them back into place without a second thought. “Modern Family is a classic.”

You hum. Modern Family is a classic. “Yeah, true.”

You both lull into silence again after that, your eyes following the screen as one of the characters does something stupid. It makes you laugh despite the fact that you know it’s coming. Sunghoon lets out a huff of breath too, but he seems on edge.

His hand keeps fisting the sheet until his knuckles turn white, and he only does that when something's bothering him. He doesn’t even seem to be paying as much attention to the show as he usually does.

It’s like his thoughts keep wandering and he’s trying to make the stop.

It worries you. The last time you’d seen Sunghoon this anxious was sophomore year, right before he broke up with his girlfriend. He never told you why he did, just that something about the relationship didn’t feel right. 

But, last you checked, he doesn’t have any girlfriends he’s wanting to break up with right now, which means something else is bothering him.

You nudge his shoulder gently, your eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He blinks, his eyes glued to the laptop before they slowly slide over to you. “Hm?”

You huff out a laugh. “I said what’s wrong? You’ve been acting off ever since we turned the show on. Did something happen?”

You watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. He doesn’t move his gaze from yours, but for some reason you wish he had. He’s looking at you so intensely, eyes searching yours like they hold the answer to the meaning of life.

Sunghoon gets like this sometimes. It’s almost like he’s…holding something back. And whenever you question him on it, he usually just pats your arm and tells you not to worry your pretty little head about it. You stopped questioning it a long time ago.

But he doesn’t do that tonight. Instead, he lets his tongue drag over his lips, and you can’t help the way your eyes flicker down to the movement.

You’re not blind. You know your best friend is ridiculously handsome. You know plenty of girls have gotten jealous and wished that it were them in your place. But your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t like that, he’s just your friend.

Besides, even if you did want him like that, you’d never want to risk your friendship with him. 

His lip's part for a moment, and then close, and then part again. “I…” He trails off, takes a deep breath, and then starts again. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You raise a brow. When did you say something? You try to rack your brain, but you come up empty. You can’t recall anything you said that would be worth bringing it up again. 

“Did I say something?”

His lips break out into a small smile, the curve threatening to reveal the tip of his fangs. “Do you not remember?"

You try to think back to anything you might’ve said, but still, you come up blank. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, expression scrunched in confusion. “Should I?”

Sunghoon is silent at that. He just looks at you, looks back down at his hands, and then straightens himself up so suddenly he feels like he’s towering over you in bed.

“If you don’t remember,” he murmurs, “then I’ll remind you.”

He leans on the tiniest bit closer, and suddenly it feels like all the air has been sucked from your lungs. You and Sunghoon have been close plenty of times before, but this feels different. This feels almost…intimate.

You swallow, your eyes widening the tiniest bit as you attempt to scoot closer to the headboard. “Hoon…”

“You told me,” he starts, his voice low in that sultry kind of way. “That you’ve never had an orgasm. That you can’t, actually.”

The memory dawns on you then. The party, the alcohol, the weed. You’d somehow unknowingly buried it all the way to the back of your mind without even realizing, and now you’re dealing with the consequences of your big mouth.

You wince. It’s almost embarrassing to hear the words coming out of Sunghoons mouth. Even though you know it’s true, that doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I did?”

“You did.”

You clear your throat and attempt to look at least a little unbothered. “Well, it’s true so…you don’t need to bring it up again. It’s already embarrassing enough having my best friend know there’s clearly something wrong with me.”

His eyebrows furrow, and for a split second, he almost looks angry. Like the thought of you thinking there’s something wrong with you enrages him.

“Embarrassing?” He scoffs. “It’s not embarrassing. And there’s nothing wrong with you. You just haven’t been with the right kind of guys.”

You probably would’ve agreed with him if you hadn’t also attempted to get yourself there. You literally just cannot do it. It’s not the guys you’re with or anything like that, it’s just you.

“But that’s the thing!” You insist. Any shyness you might’ve had towards the topic before suddenly disappears. “It’s not just the guys. I can’t…I can’t finish on my own either.”

For what it’s worth, that looks like it genuinely makes Sunghoon pause. His eyes widen the tiniest fraction, his movements pausing before he resumes them.

“You can’t…” He glances down to your hands in your lap. 

You roll your eyes, cheeks practically blistering. You’re positive your ears are the same color as a tomato at this point. “No, I can’t. It’s whatever. Can we just finish the show?”

But Sunghoon doesn’t back off. Instead, he reaches behind him and shuts the laptop completely, cutting off whatever noise it was making. He pushes it off of the bed, not even flinching when it clatters violently onto the floor.

“So, let me get this straight,” he starts. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve never had an orgasm? Like, ever?”

He knows you said at the party that you can’t finish, but he assumed you meant with other guys. Not that you can’t finish at all.

“Yep,” you say, popping the P. Your arms cross over your chest in frustration. You don’t understand why he won’t just let the topic go. Yunjin doesn’t even hound you this much about it! “I’m one of the only girls in the world who can’t finish. Are you done making fun of me now?”

He leans back slightly, his pupils suddenly dilated and his tongue sweeping over his teeth. The tension in the air builds quickly, until it feels like you’re definitely going to choke on it.

Slowly, Sunghoon crawls over until he’s seated right in front of you. He leans back on his heels, studying your face like you’re some kind of expensive art piece. Usually, you don’t mind when he looks at you. In fact, you bask in it. But this feels different. This feels almost hungry.

“You think that there’s something wrong with you?” He asks, voice hushed. Deep.

You swallow, suddenly feeling silly for even admitting that to him. But what other explanation is there outside of you being biologically engineered differently than how you were supposed to? Maybe your mother drank a cup of coffee when she was pregnant and now you’re being forced to suffer for it.

You shrug. “What other explanation is there?”

He brings a hand up to your calf, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin lightly. The touch feels like ice against your warm skin, and you can’t help the way your breath nearly catches in your throat.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring at him. At the curve of his jaw. The way his bangs fall over his forehead like he styled them to be that perfect. At the freckles dotting his soft skin.

You know your best friend is attractive. You’ve always known.

But this…there’s something about it now that makes your stomach twist with arousal.

His fingers pause at the bottom of your knee, his thumb rubbing soft circles into it. You’re suddenly thankful that you took the time to shave last night.

He shifts, leaning forward just enough that you can smell his cologne. “I think you just…haven’t listened to what your body wants. To what it needs.”

You scoff lightly, but it sounds forced. Honestly, you’re too focused on how his touch feels against your skin to even think about whatever it is he’s saying to you.

“I think I would know what I need.”

He shrugs, tongue flickering out to wet his lips before it slides back into his mouth. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

You pull your legs out of his grip and hug them towards your chest. He doesn’t look shocked when you do it — he just lets his hand land on the bed and looks up at you.

“Why are you bringing this up?” You ask. You hate that you can hear the way your voice sounds so quiet. Shy. You’ve never felt shy around Sunghoon.

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Just lets his gaze trail from your eyes down to your chest, to the curve of your hip and all the way back up to the plump of your lips.

He scoots closer slowly, and suddenly his chest is right against your calves. Breathing suddenly feels difficult – like a task instead of something you just do on autopilot. His very presence feels mind consuming.

He’s hesitant for only a moment, something flashing in his eyes, and then he’s tossing it out the window and speaking so clearly you’d almost think there were other people in the room.

“I want to help you.”

You blink. “Help me?”

“Yeah.” He says easily, like those five words hadn’t just changed the trajectory of your friendship in a way you hadn’t been prepared for. “We’re best friends, aren’t we? Best friends help each other.”

Your cheeks flush at the implication. There’s a line between helping your friend and doing something like that for them. This isn’t just him letting you borrow his notes, this is unexplored territory. This is your body, your pleasure – all of it in his hands.

You’d be lying if you said the idea didn’t excite you.

But Sunghoon is your best friend, you can’t do that with him. It’d be wrong, and it’d change your relationship completely. You don’t know if you’d ever even be able to come back from something like that. The idea in general sounds good, even if you’re positive he’s not going to change anything about your condition, but the consequences are too great. You can’t do it. You can’t.

Right?

“What?” You splutter, a nervous laugh forcing itself from your throat. “I’m sorry, are you telling me you want to help me,” you clear your throat, your voice lowering into a hushed whisper, “...orgasm?”

Sunghoon smirks, his canines on full display like he’s some type of predator. “Yeah, I am.”

You blanch, your eyes wide as you stare at him like he’s grown two heads. At this point, you think an extra extremity would probably be less shocking than the words coming out of his mouth.

“Absolutely not,” you say, arms forming an X across your chest. “That’s…I can’t do that with you. It would change too much. Besides, I already told you, I physically cannot do it. I really doubt you’re going to be the one to change that.”

Sunghoon leans back on his hands, his smirk widening just a fraction. Like he’s taking your words as some kind of challenge. It scares you and makes heat swirl in your abdomen just the same.

“So, you're scared?” He asks, tone light and teasing, but there’s an underlying smoothness to it that makes a chill crawl up your spine. “You’re scared that I’ll prove you wrong.”

“I’m not scared.” You scoff.

Sunghoon just shrugs. “You are, and that’s okay. If you want to go the rest of your life without having an orgasm, then that’s your prerogative."

Your eyes narrow at that. You know he’s just trying to rile you up to get what he wants, but you can’t help falling for it anyway. You aren’t scared of what he’ll show you, you just don’t want to mess up your friendship for something you’re positive isn’t possible. It doesn’t matter how big his fucking ego is.

“I’m not scared,” you repeat. “I just know that you aren't going to miraculously be the guy that suddenly helps me finish.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

His eyes bore into yours – challenging you. Teasing you. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows exactly how this is going to play out, even if you haven’t fully caught up to it.

He has to bite his cheek to keep his smile from getting any bigger. “Prove it then.”

“What?”

He leans forward again, his hands coming up to rest at the top of your knees. Slowly, he forces them apart and makes space for himself between your legs. He doesn’t move into it, just leaves it there like an unspoken promise. “If you really think I’m just going to end up like every other guy, then prove it to me. Prove me wrong.”

You know what he’s doing. You know he knows how competitive you can get. He’s trying to push you into the direction he wants, to mold you like clay into his hands. And you don’t want to fall for it, you really don’t.

But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you – all smug and so sure of himself. You’ve heard the rumors around campus, you know Sunghoons never shied away from his experience in the bedroom, but experience doesn’t matter for you. It’s just your biology.

And if he wants you to prove him wrong so fucking badly, then you will.

You don’t remember surging forward to kiss him – not until your teeth clash and he lets out the smallest sigh of approval. His hands are everywhere immediately – gripping the flesh of your hip, tracing up the line of your spine. 

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for it, like he’s a man starving and you’ve depraved him from any sort of substance. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, and you let out the slightest whine at the feeling.

He groans, his eyes squeezing together tightly. For a moment, you almost think he’s in pain.

“Fuck, that’s right,” he mumbles against your lips. “Prove it to me, baby.”

You kiss him harder, saliva beginning to pool at the corners of your lips. Sunghoon licks it up without a complaint. In fact, you think he’d thank you for it if he could.

His hands under your shirt and onto your hips, rubbing circles into your skin, and then he’s dragging you onto his lap without breaking away from the kiss.

You gasp when you feel his bulge through his sweatpants, the imprint pressing right against your folds. He’s big, you can tell that without even seeing it. The thought of your best friend carrying that around makes butterflies fly somewhere in your stomach.

Sunghoon kisses you deeper, his tongue licking into your mouth. Your mind is spinning from the sensation, and he’s barely touched you outside of kissing. It makes you feel like you’re in high school all over again.

Most men don’t waste their time kissing you like this. They just give you a few pecks and then get right to work using you to chase their own high. It’s become something you’ve learned to expect. But Sunghoon is kissing you like it’s the main event – like he’s been waiting his entire life to do it.

Slowly, he uses his grip on your hips to grind you against his cock, and instant pleasure bursts low in your tummy. The fabric between you does little to dull the feeling of his tip nudging against your clit – if anything, it almost makes it all the more intimate.

“Fuck,” you sigh out, your hands gripping his shirt like you’re trying to ground yourself.

He lets out a chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “Hm?” He hums, moving from your lips to your jaw. “You say something, Sweetheart?”

You bite on your lip to keep yourself from spitting some kind of insult at him. Of course he’s enjoying watching you fall apart from a few measly kisses. But that doesn’t mean anything. You still haven’t cum, and you’re positive you aren’t going to.

“Shut up,” you mumble. Your hands slide up from his chest to his hair, gripping his black locks as he sucks at the sensitive skin around your neck. 

You can feel him smile against your skin, but he doesn't say anything else about it. Instead, he nips gently at your collarbone and then basks in the whimper it pulls from you.

His hips push up into yours again, and the feeling is enough to force your lips to part in pleasure. Hesitantly, you begin to grind into him on your own, your movements erratic compared to the preciseness of his thrusts.

He clicks his tongue, tightening his grip and forcing your hips to still. You immediately whine – completely forgetting that you’re supposed to be embarrassed – but he just shakes his head.

“Is that what you think pleasure is?” He asks, letting his fingertips drag across the bare skin of your stomach. “No wonder you can’t cum.”

You furrow your brows. You have no idea what he’s talking about. “What?” You murmur, the word breathless and whiny. If the entire point of this is to bring you to your peak, you don’t understand why he’s forcing you to stop.

He licks his lips, and you can’t help but notice how red and raw they are. Completely kiss-bitten. It makes you proud that he looks just as wrecked as you’re sure you do.

“You’re not letting yourself get any actual build up,” he explains, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re chasing something that hasn’t even gotten the chance to form yet.”

You part your lips to respond, maybe fight back, but nothing comes out. Because that’s the closest thing you’ve ever got to an explanation as to why you can’t seem to do something everybody else can. 

You swallow, your posture turning into a slight slouch. “I don’t understand.” You admit quietly.

You’re half expecting him to judge you – maybe laugh. It’s definitely something other men would do. But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he pecks you softly on the nose and gently lays you down until your back is flat against the bed.

“You’re thinking too much,” he mumbles, softly tapping your forehead.

You don’t know how to tell him that you don’t know how to not think about it without sounding like a complete loser. But, then you remember that this is your best friend. And if tonight has shown you anything, it’s that he won’t judge you. You could say the dumbest thing and he would still look at you like you mean something to him.

“I don’t know how to stop.” You admit shakily, the words feeling like a losing battle as they come out.

But they seem to catch Sunghoon off guard. He’s hovering above you, eyes staring into yours with so much emotion you nearly choke on it.

This is different from the teasing Sunghoon you’d seen earlier. This Sunghoon genuinely wants to help you. He wants you to be able to experience something as trivial as an orgasm just to help you feel normal. 

This Sunghoon is your best friend.

He kisses you again, but this time it’s slower. Deeper, somehow. This time it feels like he’s kissing you just because he can, and for some reason, you like that.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his breath ghosting against your wet lips.

You nod at him without a second thought.

He crawls off of you, and the loss of his body is enough to force a breathless whine from your throat. He just shushes you and disappears out of your room. He’s been in your home enough times to know where everything is, but it still leaves you feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought of him looking around your apartment without you. You cleaned yesterday, right? You really hope so.

When he reemerges, he’s holding something long and black. It dangles from his fingers clearly, and the closer you look you realize it’s a piece of black cloth.

“Where’d you find that?” You ask. You probably should be asking what he plans to do with it, but your brain is having trouble processing actual thoughts right now.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he climbs back into bed with you, and ever so carefully presents the fabric to you.

“You said you don’t know how to turn your brain off, right?” He mumbles, bringing a hand to your thigh. His fingertips ghost over the skin, bringing goosebumps in their wake. “Maybe…Maybe this will help.”

You still aren’t understanding, and he seems to be able to tell by the look of genuine confusion on your face. He chuckles and scoots closer, but this time it seems his confidence has faded the tiniest bit. He looks almost nervous, like he’s riding a bike without training wheels for the first time.

“I don’t get it.” You mumble, letting out a nervous laugh. “How is a piece of fabric going to help?”

He balls up the fabric, eyes lingering on it before he finds your gaze again. “Just let me try something?” He asks.

Part of you is screaming at you to say no. You have no idea what’s going through his mind or what strange fantasy he’s planning to play out with you, and you’re terrified to find out.

But the other part of you…the smaller, braver part, wants you to say fuck it. You’ve already come this far with him, what’s a little more push? Besides, what could it hurt?

Slowly, your head nods up and down. Sunghoon, for what it's worth, doesn’t look smug or happy. He just swallows, his adams apple bobbing as he does, and cautiously makes his way so he’s chest to chest with you.

You watch as he brings the piece of fabric towards your head, and then suddenly your vision is cut off completely. You let out a breath of air as he ties the fabric at the back of your skull gently, his fingers working carefully to make sure he doesn’t catch any of your hair.

The vulnerability makes your core ache something awful. The thought of not being able to see him, not being able to know what his next move is…it’s exhilarating.

Your hands clench your sheets from anticipation, knuckles going a vivid white. 

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, the sound low and breathy, and then he’s moving somewhere you can’t see. You can feel his hands on your thighs still, like he’s trying to keep you grounded. To reassure you that he’s still here. That he’s not leaving.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He murmurs. You feel his hand slowly slide up until he’s reaching the hem of your shorts. He doesn't go under it – just keeps it there. Like he’s teasing you.

You feel yourself flush. “Don’t say things like that.”

His fingers slide up the fabric until he reaches the waistband, and then slowly he slips his fingertips under it and tugs. “Why?” He asks. You can practically feel the smirk that you’re sure is radiating from him. “It’s true.”

You just let out a breath, too focused on the feeling of him dragging your shorts and underwear down the soft skin of your legs. You hear him toss them aside somewhere, and then the room goes very still. 

You swallow uncomfortably, legs closing on instinct. You hate that you can’t see him or even try to guess what he’s thinking. Is he disappointed? Does he not want to do this anymore?

Your hands reach for the blindfold to pull it down, but a sudden grip on your wrist stops you.

“Don’t.” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and breathy. 

You freeze, arousal begins to pool in your core, and you listen to him. Your hands fall back to your sides and leave you encased in darkness and anticipation.

Ever so slowly, you hear him move. His hands find your knees and push them apart, exposing your glistening folds to him, and you feel him settle between your thighs.

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaving featherlight kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Never been taken care of properly, huh? No wonder this pretty little pussy is practically dripping for me.” He runs the tip of his finger over your slit, and you shiver at the contact.

“Hoon,” you pant, trying to ignore that it sounds more like a beg than anything else. “Just–Just hurry up and touch me so we can get this over with.”

He has the audacity to chuckle, but makes no move to help subside the growing ache in your stomach. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he thinks this entire thing is funny. 

“So impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue as he does. “This is why you’ve never cum, princess. You’re rushing things. How’s your pretty pussy supposed to finish if you never let her start in the first place?”

You don’t have a reply for that. If anything, it just irritates you that he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. He totally doesn’t, but still. It’s annoying that he thinks he knows more about your body than you do.

Slowly, he begins to spread your lips, his thumb spreading your arousal. The pad of it catches on your clit for just a split second, but the jolt of pleasure it gives you is enough to force a gasp out of your throat.

He pulls back for just a moment, before finally his mouth is on you fully, licking a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit. Your back arches without warning, a moan pushing its way from your lungs. The suddenness of it forces your brain to go on temporary pause, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his mouth.

He licks you like a man starved, grunts of pleasure falling from his lips as if he's the one being pleasured. “There you go, baby,” he mumbles against you, the noise drowned out by the wet sounds of your sopping pussy. “Feels good, hm?”

You just moan in response, unable to form any actual thoughts. Suddenly you’re almost grateful for the blindfold, because you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle seeing him in between your legs – making a home for himself there as if he always knew he’d end up there.

His hand grips your hip suddenly, fingers digging into the plush skin so hard you’re sure there’ll be marks in the morning. “Tell me,” he gasps, punctuating it by a tug at your clit. “Tell me exactly how good it feels.”

“So–So good,” you manage. “Fuck, it’s good.”

You’ve had men go down on you before, but never like this. Never like it was something they were doing for their own pleasure and not just because they felt obligated.

“I know it is, pretty girl.” He says. You feel his free hand slowly run up your calf and your inner thigh, before his finger is prodding at your entrance and pushing through the tight ring of muscle.

Your head goes fuzzy, hips lifting off the bed and chasing the heat of his mouth and the thrusts of his finger. It’s an overwhelming sensation, one that you’ve never really experienced before. And for one fleeting moment, you think that Sunghoon might have just done the thing he set out to do.

Prove you wrong.

“Fuck,” you whine, your hand searching blindly for his in an attempt to slow him down. “Hoon, slow down–”

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he forces another finger into your hole, stretching you out deliciously and now giving you a moment to breathe.

“I know, baby, I know,” he mumbles, giving your clit another harsh suck. “It’s gonna feel real good here soon.”

Slowly, the coil in your stomach builds and builds. Usually, this would be when you stop, accidentally edging yourself and thinking it was because you just couldn’t orgasm like a normal woman can. But Sunghoon doesn’t. Instead, he works you through it like there’s no place you’d rather be.

You gasp, reaching up and tugging the blindfold off. It falls to the side slowly, and when you look down you see Sunghoon between your legs, his cock in his hand and jerking himself off with slow, languid strokes.

It’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a guy do.

“Shit, I’m gonna–oh, fuck–”

Sunghoon doesn’t go faster or harder, he just keeps the same pace, until finally you’re spilling over and releasing all over his face, your hole spasming against his fingers. He drinks your release like it’s his own personal ambrosia, groaning through it.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, voice raising in pitch. “Cum all over my face.”

He finishes shortly after you with a small cry, his cum painting your sheets and his hand a milky white.

When it’s over, you're panting like a dog in heat, thighs twitching and sweat beading across your forehead. You don’t even know what to do or say. Your best friend just made you finish for the first time after you’d spent years thinking it just wasn't possible for you. And not only did he bring you to orgasm, he did it without even using his fucking dick.

You could seriously kill him.

Slowly, he climbs up next to you, his own chest heaving from his own orgasm.

“So?” He murmurs.

You glare at him. “Don’t say it.”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” But the smirk on his face says otherwise.

You’re having a lot of thoughts right now. Mostly that you can’t believe you just let your best friend eat you out.

But mostly that you can’t wait for him to do it again.

you were prepared for the sulking, the random overthinking sessions, all that. what you weren’t prepared for was your boyfriend fucking you like he hates you.

jake’s always been the softdom type—sweet praise, the one in "control". he still gives you the praise, but his thrusts don’t match the words at allllll.

“f-fuck, jake!” you push at his arm as the fast, hard pace gets overwhelming.

he gently pulls your hand off and laces his fingers with yours instead. “i know, i know,” he murmurs, voice shaky. “just one more round, kay?”

you both know it’s a lie. he said the exact same thing like three rounds ago.

“i was right at the finish line,” he mutters under his breath, hips snapping even faster somehow. “right, baby?” he lifts your chin so you meet his eyes.

“yes!” you moan. he rewards you with a soft kiss.

you keep clenching around him so tight he tilts his head back with a shaky “s-shit, baby.”

he’s a muttering mess now, getting closer. “i—fuck—i shoulda won, huh? you agree, princess? it’s so fuckin’ stupid.”

his pace turns brutal, something in him fully flipped. he releases your hand, grips your hips hard, “turn around, baby.”

you’re too fucked out to move, so he flips you onto your stomach himself.

“jake!” the new angle hits even better somehow. “i said turn around.”

his hand presses your lower back, forcing a deeper arch. “if only i was a little—thrust—fucking—faster,” he groans, each word punctuated by a hard snap that jolts you forward.

tears well up from the overwhelming pleasure. normally jake would kiss them away, but tonight he just smiles. “you crying? i make you feel that fucking good?”

you try to answer but only moan, squirming under him. “jakejakejake—ah fuck!”

“you gonna cum?” he asks, you nod frantically. “c’mon then,” he says between erratic thrusts.

you both cum hard—him shaking on top of you, you squirting all over his stomach and the sheets.

“mmm fuck,” he breathes, low and rough, staring at the mess while still buried inside you. he finally pulls out, slides down, and licks you clean, making eye contact the whole time like always. he finishes with a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

when he crawls up for a kiss on your lips, you dodge it.

“jake, what the fuck.”

“what?” jake says almost pouting that you dodged his kiss.

“you were kind of rough,” you say, already feeling the soreness settle in.

guilt flashes across his face instantly. “shit, i’m sorry baby.” he pulls you into his arms. “i was just so frustrated about the race.”

you laugh softly. he looks at you, confused. “what?”

“i never said i complained about you being rough.”

“oh…” he rubs slow circles on your shoulder, relaxing a little. “i’m still sorry, baby.” after a beat he adds, “let’s take a bath, okay?”

“okay.” you smile and nod, earning a real smile back from him.

after the bath, you’re both in bed sharing ice cream he door-dashed because he felt terrible (and because it cheered him up too). you notice the disappointment still lingering.

“you know, jake, you did really well at the race.”

“yeah, right.”

“i’m serious!” you swat his arm. “you made it this far. so what if you didn’t win this one? you’ve won so many.”

he stays quiet, scooping more ice cream, so you keep going.

“jake, please don’t let it bother you, or i’ll start pouting and sulking all day just like you do.”

he laughs, lets out a deep sigh, and finally gives you another genuine smile. “alright.”

you lean in for a hug but wince when a sharp ache hits your hip. lifting your shirt reveals dark bruises blooming on your skin.

“did i do that?” jake looks genuinely shocked.

“take a guess.”

“holy shit, i’m so sorry baby.” he’s immediately on you, gently inspecting them. “i’ll get ice.”

“jake, it’s fine!” you call as he scrambles up anyway.

you let him go, smiling to yourself. you’ll let him fuss and baby you all night if it means the race stops weighing on him.

(best girlfriend award goes to you 🙂‍↕️)

The fullness, the shape, all those yummy smelling chapsticks and pretty glosses you wore constantly made his heart pump faster, stare a little longer. Riki is considerate enough not to go out of his way to accost you…at first. Everything changes after something you’ve since dubbed ‘the incident’.

You were spending what had to be night 7265913 at Riki’s, cuddling while some YouTuber drama droned on from the tv in the background. He was trying to listen— yes, he knows you don’t like Jackie Aina or Patrick Ta and he doesn’t either in solidarity but the point is quickly lost the more he focuses on your bare leg that’s thrown over his waist, soft skin warm and smelling like fresh cream from your shower not even an hour ago.

His thumb is circling the exposed skin of your waist, lidded eyes watching your lips move. You don’t notice at first, only that his hands are gradually moving more— squeezing, caressing, fingertips fluttering near the hem of your shorts. Blood is already traveling south just from being so close to you and honestly it just slips out.

“What’s your favorite part of my body?”

You pause mid sentence to look down at him. Confused because it’s so random but you decide to indulge him. What’s the harm?

If only you trusted your instincts that you know your boyfriend to be a menace and that no amount of soft lighting from the television would change that; you would’ve answered that question over text where it was safe. Instead you study him and the lovely points of his own face. Beauty marks scattered across the perfect expanse of his high cheekbones, sharp jawline, intense eyes and…

“Your lips.”

Riki was attractive through and through but the one thing about him that always stood out to you was his lips.

“So full and soft..”, you lean down to give him a firm kiss, voice low and hypnotic. “All pink and pretty…”.

You don’t get to say much else because after that you immediately find yourself on your back with him on top of you.

The tv noise becomes fuzz in your head when he slots his mouth over yours, kissing you like it’s something he’d been holding back all day and you had no clue what you just set free. Thick lips move hungrily against your gasping mouth, one hand tightening around your waist while the other clasps around your throat. The sudden onslaught of fire that courses through you is so molten it leaves you breathless as you let out a weak whine.

Riki’s broad tongue laps the sound up as he slides his tongue in your mouth. You let him take you over, stroking the muscle with your own tongue and he feels his eyes flutter behind closed lids.

He’ll never get tired of this.

There’s something about the wet push and pull of your swollen lips, your heady, sweet taste against his pallet with the delicious pressure of how hard he is as you start to grind together— it’s heaven. You’re so warm too, so tender beneath him that it makes him ravenous.

Ripping his mouth off yours, you struggle in a deep breath while Riki sucks your bottom lip, holding you closer, purring low in his chest before surging his mouth back over yours.

The kiss is wetter now, his hand tightening around your neck as he kisses you with open mouth. You sound so good, taste so good, feel so fucking good he’s getting goosebumps and you’re lightheaded. Each heavy roll of his hips grinds his engorged length harder between your pussy lips; through your clothes and right over your throbbing clit.

Hotly, the swollen plushness of his lips give under the pressure he’s on yours with as your hearts race. It’s too much— twisting your head away to breathe, not even that stops him because the second you open your mouth to pant out his name so he can wait, he’s already sucking your tongue with a shameless desperation.

Liquid heat bowls down to your gut and your hips jerk up, the wet fabric of your panties catching so perfectly on your clit while Niki kisses you blind. He can’t stop— doesn’t want to either and it gets so much better when your fingers rake through his scalp, leaving a hail of shivers down his spine when they tighten along the sensitive hair on the nape of his neck. The air in the room has gone from warm to sweat-inducing— his heavy kisses growing drenched and sticky, lips smacking together as you flood his system.

Gasping for air, Niki pulls back no further than he absolutely has to but he’s still unable to withstand the borderline fever taking over him, resting his forehead back on yours. The proximity doesn’t help—he’s so turned on he can’t even think straight.

“All pink and pretty…”, your voice rings in his head.

Fuck.

It’s too strong—too hot, scorching a trickling trail below his bellybutton. He needs more. The way you writhe against him; shared saliva coating your lips and palette only sharpens the edges of his lust when he whispers against your wet lips,

“Open your mouth, baby. Gimme your tongue.”

Your heart skips. Squeezing your thighs around his middle, you look—really look— at him. His chest is heaving like he’s run a marathon and gearing up to run 10 more, his pupils completely span his iris with his skin flushed to all hell with a wet mouth and puffy lips. You must take too long to answer because he thrusts his hips down into yours like he’s fucking you, whining needily at your lips.

“Open— please—need it, pretty..”. Fuck.

If you were better at heeding warnings, you’d have pushed him off of you then and there but because you’re a dumbass who likes the stupid prizes you get from playing stupid games— you open your mouth and let your tongue fall out.

Groaning raw in his throat, the sight sends a pang straight to his dick making it throb where it’s pressed against you. Warm breaths coast into your mouth when he coos against the sensitive wetness on your spit-slick tastebuds and you’re so aroused even your cunt seems to have her own heartbeat.

“Look at it twitch…so sensitive”, he whispers, eyes dazed and blown. “Just like your pussy, yeah?”

His answer is a wrecked little moan when he presses his lips to your drenched tongue in a filthy wet smooch— letting his own tongue fall out to lap hotly up the length of yours, eyes lidded in the filthy bliss of it all. The constricting of your oxygen tips your body into oversensitivity as Riki sucks the wriggling muscle into his mouth.

Hes being gross, he knows but your mouth. A low groan vibrates his chest.

You can’t think anymore— blood thrumming while moans spill from your throat, ears burning with every slurp followed by a messy grind into your cunt. The sounds of your sloppy kissing ring out utterly depraved, completely debauched as you both go on like that. Right up until that restless jittery heat crashes over and he drags you into its searing depths with him— shaking from the intensity.

For a second, you think you blackout until you feel a heavy weight on top of you paired with puffy lips suckling and biting at your cheeks and jaw. He shudders at the sound you make when he drags his teeth down, scraping them down your pulse with fluttering teases of tongue.

Riki swears he’s losing his mind. Despite what just happened he’s still rock hard like he didn’t just cum all in his boxers and he doesn’t know what to do with himself with you looking up at him so dazed and pretty— lips shining with spit.

While it ended up being a long night for you, his kissy streak didn’t end there.

It starts to become an obsession.

Whenever he remembers that you not only find him attractive but that his lips are your favorite the same way your lips are his and suddenly he’s tugging you away with excuses of there being some emergency only to find out the ‘emergency’ is his need to have you flat to the nearest surface with his annoyingly juicy lips on yours.

“Just a little bit, babydoll— please?”

And you’re just as bad because even when you know Riki likes to take a mile out of an inch, leaving you with slick dripping down the inside of your leg while his mouth sucks away at yours; you still say yes every time.

You’re playing with fire and he takes full advantage of it. After all, your friends still don’t know you two are way past friendship and dating now but Riki truly can’t help it. He just wants to touch, wants to discover all the nasty things you’d let him to you— devilish eyes and that smart mouth moaning that you’re his. He’d do anything you wanted just to have you sweet and dripping— pliant as you are now.

“Niki…”, he watches your spit slick lips gasp his name with hazy eyes; crowding you on top of the sink inside the lavish bathroom.

Part of him feels guilty because this certainly isn’t the place or the time. You’re his plus one for his sisters wedding yet as the laughing, music and dancing go on outside; drunk guests stumbling about— he’s got you in here.

It’s really not his fault.

You look good enough to eat but the same sentiment also more than applies to him. His suit jacket is long abandoned, sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows with a couple buttons undone to fight the heat pumping through him as his tie hangs off his neck and oh god his haircut.

Sliding the soft satin of your dress up, he takes your calf in hand, keeping his eyes locked on yours while he kisses down to the inside of your knee before wrapping it around his waist and doing the same to your other leg. Biting his lip when he rasps out a groan, voice honey slick.

“I can’t wait until this is us one day,”

The nagging feeling of the cold sink beneath your ass with your back plastered to the mirror evaporates under his mouth. He kisses you slow this time but no less consuming— letting you really feel those flames licking up your body making you melt for him. Your head dips back and he follows, sloppily lapping into the wet cavern with a mean suck to your lips, growling at the throaty moan that shoots from you.

“After I put a pretty ring on your finger and ruin you just like you’ve ruined me.”

Riki won’t deny the pleasure that pulses in his chest when you choke at his words, staring at him with wide eyes before he’s kissing you again.

As he swallows your whimpers, tongue slotting against yours, he swears that each match you’ve struck with him has been soaked in gasoline because this need to breathe the oxygen from your very lungs can’t be normal.

He’s messily feeding off the wet, pleasured moans from your mouth but he’s still starving. His cheeks hallow from the suction he’s using on your tongue, spit leaving a messy trail on your chins. Pretty nails drag up the expanse of his wide shoulders, trying to hold on so you don’t get carried away but Riki is determined.

The kiss becomes sweltering; heady and sappy like melted molasses. His full lips smack tackily against yours thanks to the gloss he’s already half licked off you as his tongue flicks to taste, laving against the roof of your mouth, back molars—even the inside of your cheeks. Your hitching breath is just as sweet, just as longing; sugar in the endless depths of his want and oh—

You dissolve like fresh cotton candy.

When he finally lets you push him off, the warmed air has a tangible current as you stare each other down, chests heaving.

He’s a mess.

Your lip stain painted across his mouth like a condemning verdict, pressed shirt undone and wrinkled now. Reception be damned, you just want him to take you home because you have a feeling—

“M’sorry baby, got a little carried away but how about this? One more kiss and I swear I’ll be good”— is a total lie.

You’ll give him one more and it’ll give to a second one that’ll be heavier, then the third—wetter, the fourth even sloppier. Anything after that he’ll be between your legs dry-humping you to a screeching orgasm then using the mess as lube to fuck you senseless all while kissing you like he’ll run out of air if he doesn’t.

Blood is already pooling in his groin, solidifying his hunger as he kisses you again, swollen length rutting against you harder. Your hands fist tight in his hair and Riki moans, lapping at you filthier. A large hand braces along your back to feel it arch and curve; ready to keep your mouth flush to his puffy lips as he flips your dress up and—

“Aah! W-wait”, you throw your head in the opposite direction, pleading before you end up giving in.

“Home, let’s go home— not here…”, you trail off while he’s no longer trying to actively consume you; taking the opening and running with it while you have his attention.

“I don’t think your sister would appreciate us ruining the sanctity of her very expensive wedding venue bathroom..”

Goddamnit.

He lets out a heavy sigh into your cleavage because you’re right. If he was trying to get Konon to never speak to him again— being caught like this with you on one of the most significant occasions in her life would certainly do the job.

Then again, he’s fucking hard.

The throbbing of his dick is incessant, visibly stiff through his slacks. It’s borderline painful when he captures your mouth in one final bruising kiss. Enjoying the wetness of your equally swollen lips before pulling away with a feverish lick to the inside of your cheek. You’re left gasping while Riki looks at you like he didn’t do that on purpose, flinging your body into lava with his mouth alone.

Riki helps you down and you two make yourselves as presentable as you can. It’s a feat that you manage to ignore his hands on your waist when you bend over, facing the mirror to touch up your makeup and redo your lip combo. He’s shameless then too—grinding his erection between your asscheeks as he watches you line and gloss your lips through dark molten eyes, biting his lip until you’re done.

Opening the door for you, hungry eyes stare you down as you stroll through, flicking him a look of your own.

“You okay? You look a little winded, baby.”

The smirk is audible, his teasing voice laced with amusement. Of course the correct thing to do would be to ignore him. Again, if you liked living without an ice pack to your mouth and back pain later— you wouldn’t provoke him.

Oh well.

“Cute. You pitch a tent like that for all campers or just me?”

He swears, the curse hissed lowly into your ear as you make your way towards his family, smiling at the beautiful bride as you get closer to the long table with every step.

“Mhmm, keep playing with me.”

You’re snickering now but he couldn’t be more serious as that little voice warning you about playing stupid games gets louder. Riki lets out a strained breath, his hand pressing into your lower back, more than a little pent up and you’re only making it worse when you quickly turn to look at him.

“Go suck it.”

You mouth, drawing dangerously closer to their table and you’ll live to regret that later as he leans down over your shoulder to whisper in your ear.

“Baby, that’s the tamest thing I’m gonna do to you.”

Before you could ensure you weren’t losing your mind, turning to Jake for confirmation, his doppelgänger slipped into the crowd unnoticed by him. Your heartrate picked up as a sinking feeling sat low in the pit of your stomach and your mouth ran dry. You wrapped your arm around Jake’s holding onto him tightly as you tried not to shake.

Jake smiled down at you, probably some joke on his lips about you needing help crossing the busy road, but when he saw your horrified look he pulled you off to the side and away from the people of the city to ask you what was wrong. You could barely form the words to tell him.

“I-I…” you trailed off. You looked around once again. Everything seemed normal and nobody had the same reaction that you did. You then started to think that maybe you had imagined it all—that your lack of sleep recently had finally caught up with you. You caught Jake’s worried gaze again, swallowing thickly, and shook your head. “N-Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t know, I guess this weird feeling just suddenly overcame me. But, it’s okay. I’m fine now.”

You licked your lips and Jake’s gaze fell to the slow motion of your tongue before raising to meet yours again. You gave a weak and a honestly not convincing smile. Jake’s brows were furrowed as he gave you a once over. You were nearly hunched into yourself and you still clung to him hopelessly, your knuckles almost white from how hard your fingers dug into his arm. “It’s probably the exhaustion,” you quickly added, smiling bigger and chuckling nervously. “You know I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Okay,” Jake spoke carefully, deciding to believe your clear lie. “Let's get you home. I’ll make you some tea to help you feel tired.”

That night, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you saw—couldn’t stop thinking about if Jake knew. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about how there was no way that Jake didn’t know, right? But, a little thought in the very back of your mind kept getting louder and louder with each passing thought. What if Jake was clueless to it all?

You were too frazzled and shocked to really get a clear look at his doppelgänger outside of the two of them looking completely identical. An even more horrifying thought rose to the surface. If Jake’s doppelgänger knew that you existed—was taunting you in the lively streets—that meant he knew that Jake existed too. Which ultimately meant that this doppelgänger of Jake’s was dangerous.

Looking to your side, you watched as Jake, your best friend since childhood, slept soundly and hogged all of your blankets in the process. In that moment you knew he had to be unaware of everything. Surely, he would tell you if he had a Pars Una-Twin, right? You were his best friend, after all. You tried to calm your racing mind as you turned to him and watched him sleep more. A small smile grew on your lips as you observed the steady rise and fall of his chest. His messy chestnut hair was pushed out of his face and you restrained yourself from running your fingers through the soft strands. In his sleep, Jake turned to you and your smile grew more. It reminded you of when the two of you were kids and you would get nightmares. Jake would always lay next to you and told you he would fight off all the monsters while you slept. It always helped you sleep easier.

You snuggled into his side, your breath fanning softly on the side of his neck where you felt his heartbeat, and finally let your eyes close. Jake was warm and secure. He helped anchor you and, even in his sleep, made sure you didn’t stray too far from him.

The loud music thrashed through you the closer you and Jake got to the house where the party was being thrown. You could see the energy buzzing throughout him and the way his stare ahead was full of excitement. You laughed, Jake turned to you, that same bright smile on his face. “I’ve never seen you this excited for a costume party before,” you say, nudging him a little.

“It’s not just any costume party,” Jake replied a bit cryptically, looking briefly at the house that was drawing nearer. He looked back to you and there was a sparkle in his eye, something dark in the corners of his smile. It reminded you of the other day, the day you tried to forget that you saw his doppelgänger in the street. Your smile faltered the slightest bit, but Jake didn’t seem to notice as he turned back to the house, the two of you finally walking past the threshold. Over the music, Jake shouted as he leaned in close to you, “It’s going to be a night neither of us will forget!”

Jake took your hand and pulled you further into the house. You had to push past people who were somehow already wasted drunkenly dancing throughout the room. Jake had pulled you near where the couch was in the living room. “Wait here,” he says, already half-turned to where the kitchen resided. “I’m gonna get us some drinks.”

You watched as he stalked off in his vampire costume, his brown hair slicked back and his cape trailing behind him beneath the tall collar at his neck. The two of you had matching costumes—at least, in a way. Jake was dressed as Count Dracula and you were dressed as one of his helpless victims, a fledgling, torn between the living and the dead. Jake had made sure you both were covered in a nice splattering of fake blood and that it poured from his mouth and the vampire bite at your neck. “The costumes will be fun!” Jake had insisted as the two of you got ready. But now, you were just slightly annoyed at the stickiness of it all.

Sighing, you turned towards the occupied couches and wished you could sit. Instead, you leaned against one of the mostly empty tables as you waited for Jake to return with your drinks. Ever since that day on the street, Jake has been acting strange. He was always giddy about something, but every time you asked him why he was so excited he just told you that it was nothing. Or he would just tell you that it was a good day that day. You really had no reason to not believe him, but the paranoia making your heart race and your mind run off the rails refused to be swallowed down. You could just feel that something was suddenly off. You felt like a small animal unknowingly walking into the predator’s trap with no clue that they were waiting for you just a few feet away, ready to pounce. The air around you and Jake had shifted—stilled. Like it was holding its breath at a swift action you’d never be able to anticipate.

It all just made your heart hammer against your ribcage harder until you could hear the echo of your own fear reverberating throughout your whole body.

Your anxiety picked up and you rubbed up your arm nervously. Then suddenly, there was a red solo cup in front of your face. You exhaled shakily and tried to steady your rapid breathing as you looked up to Jake. He had that same smile on his face that he left with as he held the cup out to you more, but this time the dark corners creeped further in. Or, at least, it looked like it did. You honestly weren’t too sure anymore. At first, you leaned away from the alcohol. You didn’t think that it would help your state of mind. But, as you thought about it more, maybe it was exactly what you needed right now.

Taking the cup from Jake’s hand, you downed half of it all in one go. Immediately, your face screwed up, but you forced yourself to swallow it all down. Over the blaring music, you heard Jake’s surprised laughter. “Woah, slow down!” he laughed more. “It’s the strong stuff. You’re not supposed to drink that much of it at once.”

Jake moved next to you and leaned on the table with you. He sipped leisurely at his drink as he looked around at the party. The corners of his mouth were still the slightest bit raised that it almost seemed unnatural. It felt like your brain was superimposing the smile on his mouth. Maybe you were actually going crazy, but the more you stared at him as the alcohol settled, the more you noticed there was something different about Jake from when you last saw him a few moments ago. Something off. You just couldn’t put your finger on it, though.

Your brows furrowed as you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth. “Jake,” you started, uneasily. He turned to you, his brows raising as his lips paused at the rim of his cup. “I think there’s something very wrong… I think I’m losing my mind.” Jake’s eyes widened and his own brows drew together. He lowered his cup and asked you what you meant. You started blurting everything out anxiously and your words began to slur together as you got hit full-force with the alcohol that by the end even you didn’t know what you were saying. “Why do you seem different?!” you slurred anxiously.

You fell into Jake and he wrapped his arms around you and held you steady. Instantly, you regretted it. Instead of the warmth you were used to with his touch, when his fingers grazed along your arms they were ice-cold. You shivered, but you buried yourself deeper into Jake’s chest anyway as you clung to any fleeting heat you could pull from him. It didn’t help bring you any comfort.

Jake pulled back to look at you. “Here,” he says as he holds his cup up to your lips, “drink this. You really seem like you need it and at the very least it’ll help you fall asleep. I’ll take you upstairs to one of the rooms and watch over you.”

Hesitantly, you tilt the cup up and let the contents pour down your throat. The entire time, Jake watches you. His lips are in-between his teeth and you can see the small dots of real blood forming from where he bites down into the skin with his fake vampire fangs. Jake’s eyes travel down to your throat and he watches it bob as you swallow more and more of the alcohol until the cup he still holds on to is empty.

Slowly, uncannily, the smile lingering at the corners of his lips spreads across his mouth. You nearly flinch at it and you pull away from Jake’s embrace as the adrenaline rushes through you.

Jake stands with you, abandoning your cup for some poor fool to drink in your stead, and pulls you back into his body to help you stand. You try to push away from him, slurring greatly about something that doesn’t reach your own ears, but to no satisfaction. Jake takes it as you stumbling, so he leans you onto him more and he guides you to the stairs through the crowd of drunk bodies. You hear his voice float down to you, saying, “You said it wasn’t going to set in that quickly!” But, when you looked up at him hazily mid-sentence, Jake’s lips didn’t move at all.

Your eyes closed briefly and when you opened them again you were in an empty room laying on a bed with Jake sitting next to you. He looked down at you, that same uncanny smile there, as the tips of his fingers brushed across your cheek. In its wake, it left a chill trail. One of his gloves sat on the bedside table and next to it there was a lamp on that casted the large bedroom in an orange haze. With the light, you could see the small differences in Jake’s appearance.

Instead of the warm brown hair of Jake’s that you were used to, his hair seemed to glow lighter in the lamplight. A cool blonde shade that looked unnatural with how warm everything in the room felt. It was the same with the color of his eyes. They were a cool shade of brown that felt cold, calculating. As they blanketed over you, it felt like he had your every potential move mapped out. That he tucked every possible outcome away in a corner of his mind, ready for him to pull out at will. There was that same giddiness that Jake possessed earlier that week, so it made you think that maybe the drunkenness was making you see him differently. When Jake’s eyes raised back up to meet yours, his cold thumb stopping at your chin just below your bottom lip, you knew that you weren’t imagining anything.

“It’s… I-It’s you…” you slurred, trying to keep your eyes open. The smile on Jake’s face grew, lighting up his pretty, chilled features. You knew that he knew what you were referring to. “W-Where… Where’s J-Jake?” you pushed out, the fear causing your heart to sink.

Jake laughed, “I’m right here.” He posed it as a question and it confused you more. “I’ve always been right here.”

“D…” you trailed off, your body feeling heavy. It felt like your body shut down out of fear, cutting off your voice to keep you safe. Your eyes closed more, and just before you drifted off fully the door to the room opened. Blearily, you saw someone in the same exact vampire costume Jake was wearing step in. “J-J…” you tried again, but there was no point. Before you could even pull Jake’s name from your mouth you were fast asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you had slept for, but when you opened your eyes again, Jake’s name was still on your tongue—clearer this time. You shot up, the fear delayed but swiftly catching up to you, as you dizzily looked around the room. The bedroom was still bathed in warm hues, but the air no longer felt as still as it once had. Alcohol still lingered in your system and made your body feel heavier and your vision blurry, but when felt a warm hand brush down your shoulder you breathed out a sigh of relief. Jake’s face came into view, a slight grin tugging the corner of his lips up, and you gave him a once over. When your eyes caught on his familiar chestnut-brown hair, you smiled back at him and threw yourself into his arms.

Laughing, Jake’s voice came out muffled, “I’m gonna assume that you felt better?” You nodded, pulling away a little, not realizing that you were in his lap now. Jake had taken off the cape that was connected to his costume and the fake vampire fangs, which led you to believe that you had been asleep for a while, along with the gloves that he wore. His long hair had fallen from its slicked style and strands of it now fell into his eyes and framed his face. All that he had left on from his eccentric costume was the deep red suit jacket, the deeper satin tie, and the black button-up and pants. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and some of the fake blood that had messily fallen from his mouth earlier was smeared on his forearm, making the veins that ran down them like streams more prominent.

Your face was just mere inches away from Jake’s face, and he dragged his sweltering hands down your arms until they rested at your waist just above your hips. Your breathing hitched, and the corner of Jake’s lips rose just a fraction more. Half of his face was basked in darkness, but his eyes shined. The darkness bled back into his smile, and you shifted in his lap diffidently, grasping at the position the two of you were in. You looked away from his eyes and in your peripheral vision you could see Jake tilt his head at you.

The light from the room dimmed and bit by bit the warmth started to get sucked out of it. You chuckled nervously, “Y-Yeah… I don’t—I didn’t really know what was happening d—” When you looked back up at Jake, all the words caught in your throat. His eyes were black, despite the singular shine in them, and it sent a chill down your spine. Jake’s face was warm, but you still got that uncanny feeling you had earlier when you were face to face with his doppelgänger. Your eyes widened ever so slightly as your words hung in-between the two of you in the air. You tried to get off Jake’s lap, but his hands snaked from your waist to your lower back and held you in place. His smile was equal parts off-putting and honeyed. You couldn’t tell if what your body was picking up was real or if it was an eerie figment of your imagination.

Jake urged you on, moving his face closer to yours as his eyes focused on your lips. You felt his breathing fan across your skin and his warm hands felt unbearably hot, like he was boiling the alcohol inside of you. One of his hands rose to the back of your neck and you exhaled hard as your chest pressed into his and your lips nearly brushed against his lips. Jake could’ve easily closed the distance if he really wanted to, you haven’t tried to pull away from his quiet and aberrant seduction, but he didn’t. He was testing the waters with you, letting you take the first dip into potentially infested oceans before he followed after you. Jake leaned forward the slightest bit until his lips were a hair away from yours and smirked before leaning back from you completely and resting against the headboard. His hands dropped to your hips, and when you shifted again you felt his need underneath you.

“You don’t?” Jake asked lowly, his voice hushed and sultry. There was a lilt in his voice that told you he didn’t believe you and the fake, dried blood covering his mouth and chin made you want to spill all your secrets in fear of being eaten next. You both knew that, at least in some way, you did know. That there was no denying the other version of him that you saw and came in contact with. A barely audible but soft, pleasing moan twirled around his voice as you uneasily adjusted yourself on his body again. “Take a guess. What do you think is happening?”

Jake's fingers had dug into the plush skin around your hips and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he opened them to look at you, half of his face still shadowed. Your fingers trailed down the suit jacket and lingered at the buttons. “I think…” you trailed, voice lower than a whisper. You shakily undid one of the buttons of Jake’s costume, fear and adrenaline flooding every part of your body. You think that you wanted the world to stop spinning, and that the only way you knew how to do that was to anchor yourself more to Jake.

You undid the rest of the buttons in timorous silence, your hands shaking more the further you went down. Jake didn’t watch your hands work. Instead, he watched your face and the flurry of emotions that passed across it. But, judging by his growing erection pressing against the thin fabric of your panties, you knew that he wasn’t unaffected. “I-I think,” you continued, trying your best for your words not to slur together and failing. Your words hung in the air again as you smoothed over the black fabric of Jake’s button-up now that it was free of the suit jacket. Jake tensed underneath your touch. Your fingers brushed against the satin tie and your gaze raised towards it.

Leaning towards him, you hooked your fingers underneath the knot keeping the tie around his neck. You tugged hard at it and it began to unravel. It felt like you were pulling at the last rope keeping you together, but you watched that unravel eagerly too. You met Jake’s stare as you pulled the tie from around his neck. “I think I want to stop watching the shadows creep in and everything melt together. I think I want to stop thinking.” You swallowed thickly as you settled gingerly into your fear. At the moment, none of it mattered. The dim filter over everything no longer existed.

You drew into Jake closer, hesitating just a breath away, before you softly pressed your lips to his.

Like a flame to gasoline, Jake ignited. He greedily swallowed your kiss and demanded more from you, and you happily gave him everything. Jake pushed off the headboard towards you, his lips still moving in sync with yours, and in the same motion roughly pulled off the suit jacket. The tie that was still in your hand slipped from your fingertips and was lost somewhere on the bed. The kiss was only broken for mere seconds when your ripped shirt covered in fake blood was being pulled over your head.

Jake pushed you down onto the bed as his lips latched onto yours once more. His hands moved along your thighs until they roughly hiked up the fabric of your skirt for being in his way. You gasped at the sudden cold air on your newly exposed skin. When has the room gotten so chilly? You could barely feel it with Jake’s body on yours.

He moaned into your mouth as his fingers dipped into the wetness forming a darkened patch on your panties. Jake’s touch was gentle, but you could feel the need in the way he held himself back. You didn’t know why he was waiting, this is what you wanted.

You felt his dark smile against your lips as he kissed you and it made you shiver. Arousal poured out from you and coated Jake’s warm fingertips and the entire party downstairs disappeared. It was just your breaths mixing with Jake’s and the thumping of your heart as your fear mixed nicely with desire. You pulled at the hem of Jake’s pants and he finally unbuttoned them with nimble fingers.

Jake groaned, his lips breaking away from yours as he pumped his hard cock a few times. Your back arched off the bed and Jake’s face focused in your sight as he dragged his cockhead through the wetness coating your panties. “I want to hear it still,” Jake says against your lips, teasing you by trying to push himself inside of you only to get blocked by the barrier of fabric. He let out a laugh coated in honey. “I want to hear what your guess is. Tell me.”

He moved down to your neck, his lips pressing feather-light kisses to the skin there as he continued to tease you. You rutted your hips up towards his, but he pushed your knees to your chest and halted you, laughing more at the pleading moans that dripped from your lips. Jake’s lips feathered over the fake vampire bite right at the crook of your neck and a bolt of fear strikes through you again. Even though you knew the bite was fake, your brain couldn’t decipher that at the moment. It was awaiting the touch of Jake’s teeth at the sensitive skin there, waiting for his fangs to dive deep into the tenderness and for your warm blood to pool out around his mouth. When he instead pressed a kiss there, it made your brain short-circuit and release a hearty burst of fear paired with more arousal that smeared across your folds and dampened even more of your panties.

You clenched down around nothing with each teasing thrust Jake taunted you with, and your back arched a little more at the way he followed his cruel actions up by spreading your arousal along his length as he nudged at your throbbing clit. Another moan was pulled from you, and Jake tsked lightly. “Not what I asked for, baby.”

Your breathing came out haggard and terrified. A part of you didn’t want to admit what you saw out of the fear that surrounded you like a pack of wolves, but another part of you—one more incessant—craved the pleasure that Jake was offering if only you spoke your truth out loud.

“It was y-you!” you breathed out through a frustrated whine. Jake unhooked your bra and his free hand molded your flesh beneath it. His thumb ran back and forth in a circle over your perked nipple as he hummed against your skin. You pulled at his button-up and some of the buttons loosened from the hold they were in, exposing Jake’s chest. “But it wasn’t you.”

Satisfied, Jake pulled your panties to the side with such need that you heard the seams ripping apart. He didn’t care, and soon neither did you as Jake finally pushed himself into your warm entrance. Jake didn’t bother to go slow. He needed to feel you all around him and he couldn’t bear to drag out the moment any longer and wait. “Wasn’t it?” Jake asks you in that familiar low and sultry voice, the words pouring from his mouth like honey.

Your mind was buzzing at all of these mind games, compartmentalizing things into the wrong sections and heightening your desire. You tightened around him and Jake moaned loudly into your neck, his big hands at your breasts. “Your doppelgänger,” you moan, your brain muddy with the way he fits so good inside of you. “Your Pars Una-Twin. You.”

Jake just laughs before he thrusts into you. You gasp at your body pushing towards the headboard and bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep the loud moan buried within your throat. You hear Jake tsk again before he’s firmly grabbing your chin and parting your lips. He takes your bottom lip with his thumb and pulls it down. Slowly, Jake drags his cock out of you and elicits a moan from your mouth. You watch as his dark eyes light up and the corners of his lips raise. He fucks back into you hard and your your fearful expression twists into one of pleasure. Jake pushes his thumb into your mouth, grinning at the vibration of your moan that travels down his arm as he fucks into you again.

With his other hand, Jake trails the tips of his fingers down between your breasts and to your lower stomach. There, he pushes down and beneath his hand he feels you tense around him again, a muffled whimper pushing out against his thumb in your mouth. Jake’s grin grows into a full-blown smile and in this moment you know that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. Your body moves like waves at Jake’s iron-command, and right now you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

He pulls his cock out of you until just his tip remains inside before he’s rutting into you again, setting the two of you at a quick and mind-numbing pace. All of your thoughts melt together until all you can think of is giving Jake what he wants—what you want—so he wouldn’t take it away from you. His thumb delves further into your mouth and presses flat on your tongue. There’s a desire in his eyes before it feels like all of the light in the room is snuffed out. You wrap your lips around his thumb and suck.

Your voice rings out sharply through the darkness, a fearful plea coated in sweet, sweet saccharine. The first thing that pours from your mouth after is Jake’s name wrapped tightly in a lustful moan. Jake could tell how scared you are, but he could also feel how much it turns you on. He could feel your seraphic arousal splattering across the insides of your thighs as he showed you a taste of heaven again as long as you walked with him into the dark afterwards. Jake’s head fell back as he chuckled at the way your moans synced with his skin slapping loudly against yours. At the way you clawed more at his wrinkled button-up just to hold on to something.

Jake was so deep inside of you, stretching your little pussy out so good that slurred half-muttered thanks started spilling from your lips instead. Each time you clenched down around him, your pretty body begging to bring him in deeper, it turned Jake on even more to listen to your breath hitch and feel your back try to arch off the bed again. Your pussy fluttered around his cock and Jake looked down at it with a brazen grin.

You reach for Jake again, this time him obliging as he brings his lips back down to yours to swallow every little sound that you make as he brings you to your climax. Your bodies moved in tandem and your nails dug into his skin when you felt like you couldn’t take anymore of the euphoria. You whimpered against Jake’s lips, but he just shushed you with another kiss. Jake moved his hand from your lower stomach and pulled it further down. When his thumb made contact with your clit, you jolted and the light in the room suddenly flickered back on.

“Do you feel me?” Jake asked, except the sound didn’t come from his mouth. Behind him, the doorknob twisted and slowly the door creaked open. The fear inside of you skyrocketed, but your moans had never been so loud. In a shadowy silhouette, Jake’s doppelgänger stepped inside of the room and closed the door behind him. The sound of the door locking rang over and over in your head.

The light in the room descended down onto him like a spotlight. He was still in his costume, but it seemed somehow grander. His clothes were pristine, and there wasn’t a single strand of hair out of place from Jake’s previous slicked back style. He didn’t have any fake blood on him either. The only real thing that differed from the Jake fucking you and the Jake looking down at you with a cold desire was intention. He took slow, deliberate steps towards the bed before stopping at the chair near it that you hadn’t noticed. Your eyes never left his and your nails dug into Jake’s skin as your body started to shake.

Jake grabbed hard at your chin and wrangled your gaze back to his instead. “He’ll have his turn,” he practically spat out. “Right now, you’re mine.” In the corner of your eye, you could see Jake’s doppelgänger’s expression darken. Your eyes rolled back and your vision went white as the rope inside of you finally snapped from the tension. Jake’s moan mixed with yours and he kissed you roughly. “That’s it, baby. Focus on me,” he says against your lips as he fucks into you faster, chasing his own high.

You nearly shriek from the overwhelming pleasure as Jake leans away from you and pushes your knees together and to your chest. You can hear him moaning profantities as he fucks your cum out of you and then pushes it all back inside. The wet sounds emitting from where the two of you meet is obscene, and you would’ve been embarrassed at the audience you had if it was anyone other than Jake’s doppelgänger. Him watching you fall apart in this way scared you. Someone so dangerous so close to you and observing every way that you’re vulnerable made you uneasy, but feeling his cold stare drag along every inch of your skin—settle on the way your cum spilled down your ass—just made your release feel even more euphoric.

Jake’s cock throbs inside of you and he curses more as he unwillingly pulls himself out of you. Your pupils are blown wide as you watch him fist his cock over your stomach—his head thrown back as he moans loudly—and his cum splatters across your skin in thick spurts, marking you as his and only his.

Jake breathes out heavily, looking down at the masterpiece that is you. He moves back a little on the bed and spreads your legs open further, moaning more at the way your pussy blooms for him like a pretty flower and spills out more of your cum. Your body feels limp, but the fire in the pit of your stomach doesn’t die down. Jake looks back at his doppelgänger almost smugly and you look over to him too. He sits poised in the chair, his legs spread as he leans to one side on the cushioned arm of it. His head rests in his hand and his expression is purposefully blank. He doesn’t even pay Jake’s ridiculous jealousy any mind, his eyes simply focus on the way his counterpart has fucked you into mind-numbing ruin.

The expression on Jake’s face changes so quickly you can’t tell what it settled on before he’s turning back to you. He collects the cum dripping out of you before he’s using two fingers to fuck it back inside of you. Your entire body jolts back to life as you try to push him away from where you were still so sensitive. He chuckles at you before he pulls his fingers out, now coated in a sheer white shiny layer of your cum, and smears it across your stomach where his own release is, mixing the two of them. Jake then brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips with them. Eagerly, you take them all the way into your mouth, sucking onto them with vigor, before Jake slowly pulls them back out.

He moves to the side so his doppelgänger has a full view of you as he spreads his spit-covered fingers through your folds and back into your fluttering pussy. Jake isn’t forgiving as he fucks his fingers inside of you, curling them at just the right angle to have your vision spotting white again. His pace is fast and cruel, as if he has something he’s desperate to prove. Jake swats away your hands and uses his other hand to keep you pressed to the bed as his other hand works. 

You’re writhing on the bed pleading with Jake between moans for him to slow down as you pathetically rock your hips up towards his hand. The entire time, his doppelgänger doesn’t say a single word, just watches you claw at the sheets.

Jake leans over you and grabs your chin again. He turns your gaze to where his doppelgänger still sits impossibly still in the chair. “Look at him,” he hisses. You do, and Jake picks up the pace. Your mix cum and arousal is splattering wildly across the duvet and on Jake’s arm, but the heat on your skin only intensifies from desire.

You cry out, your body shaking so hard you think that you’re going to break. Your legs flail in the air and you squeeze them together in hopes of some sort of reprieve. Jake roughly pulls them apart again. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks you mockingly, coyness dripping from his tone. You rapidly shake your head as you squeeze your eyes shut before remembering that you were supposed to keep them open.

As soon as you open them again, that’s when you feel yourself break completely. Your gaze meets Jake’s counterpart’s and he tilts his chin up as he watches you. Your brows furrow before you look back over to Jake. An arrogant smirk blooms on his face just as your body gives out fully. Liquid sprays out of you and across the room and you go limp again, exhaustion slamming down onto you.

You hear Jake’s taunting laughter as your eyes defocus onto the ceiling. His face comes into view and it takes a second for you to actually see him. Jake brings his lips to yours and gives you a sweet kiss as he pulls his fingers out of you. “That’s it, baby,” he beams at you, voice full of pride as he praises you. That alone raises you back up. “Soaked my fucking arm. That was amazing.” Jake kisses you and the more his lips move against yours the more energy you feel like you regain until your hand is raising to bring him closer.

You hear the sound of shoes against hardwood and try to see what Jake’s counterpart is doing, but Jake brings your focus back to him. There’s a sound of a throat being cleared and Jake sighs before he pulls away from you. You look over to his blonde doppelgänger as Jake settles between your legs again, letting his still-hard cock sit heavily against your lower stomach. Your breathing picks up at its length, but you can’t ponder on it as his doppelgänger takes slow steps towards you, pulling at one of his gloves.

He stops right in front of you, and you weakly sit up onto your elbows as a pang of fear runs through you. Jake laughs, his hands moving up the back of your thighs, but you feel like you can’t look away from his counterpart’s stare. Jake’s doppelgänger takes off the glove completely and his cold fingers come to lift your chin. His thumb smoothes over the skin of your cheek and wipes away tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

Tilting his head, his hand drops to his pants as he unbuttons them. He doesn’t look at Jake as he speaks to him, he only focuses on you, a slight furrow in his brow as he takes in your beauty. Beauty that he’s been waiting so long to see in the flesh. “My turn,” he says.

 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏   ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏   ͏͏ REBLOGS ◜◡◝ ASKS APPRECIATED!

✉️   ⦂   i literally wrote this all in the span of five hours and then spent the next two editing and making this post. that is so insane holyyy,,, i need jake and doppelgänger jake to fuck me at the same time so bad like #meNEXT!!!!!!! happy jake day hehe!!~~ ♡♡ lowkey i think it would be fun to write a part two for this aaaaaa

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ @innocygnet @ikeukiss @yvampyr @prkhaven @jaylaxies @ghstzzn @fangel @tyunningism @xylatox @whosserina @jellymochii @minaateez @riribelle @lvrs-street2mmorrow @sumsumtingz @baddestire @yingelics @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @yooonjnng @solonenova @angelhyuka @hoonkishoe @heesmiles

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“Please, daddy,” you whine into his ear as your clit grazes the rough material of his jeans. “Need your cock.”

Sunghoon’s pants are completely soaked through, and he loves the feeling. When you pranced into the kitchen in your tiny skirt, the last thing he expected was for you to flash your pretty pussy at him before sitting right on his covered cock. You immediately started begging him to fuck you like his wife and her friends aren’t in the living room only a few feet away.

“Baby,” Sunghoon groans. “Not right now. Wait until your mom’s friends leave.”

“But it hurts.”

As always, Sunghoon is powerless to your cute pout and needy expression.

…

“Shh, princess,” Sunghoon coos as he covers your mouth with his hand. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

He smirks when he sees your eyes roll all the way back as he snaps his hips into you. Already, you’re going crazy all over his girthy cock.

“Daddy gave you what you want, so you have to be quiet so no one hears what a filthy little girl you are.”

It’s nearly impossible to stay quiet when his big cock is drilling into your cunt relentlessly. The guest room is the closest to the living room, and just the thought of your mom and all her friends walking in on your stepdad stretching you out on his cock makes you wetter and tighter.

Sunghoon replaces his hand with his lips, greedily swallowing your filthy moans. The bed is starting to creak, but neither of you care. The thought of having sex while your mom and her dumb friends are gathered right outside makes you squeeze his cock again.

“Daddy,” you mewl against his lips. “Fucking love your cock.”

“Yeah? Filthy girl,” Sunghoon gives you another kiss and bites your bottom lip as his cock throbs inside your hot cunt. “You always squeeze me so tight when you think we might get caught.”

All you can think about his cock and how you’re going to keep fucking him all day. The thought of him fucking you full of cum makes you gush all over him. He’s just as needy as you, plunging his cock into your tight little pussy like your mom and her guests aren’t sitting in the living room.

“Can’t help it, daddy,” you mewl into his neck as your pussy greedily swallows his cock with every rough thrust. “Want everyone to see how good you fuck me.”

Your stepdad never stops fucking his dick into your cunt. He’s eager to fuck you full of cum then make you bounce on his cock afterwards.

“Fuck. What a filthy little girl. Want everyone to know this pretty pussy belongs to me, hm?”

“Yes, daddy, yes!” You whine as his heavy balls slap your ass. “Want them to see how much you love your stepdaughter’s tight pussy.”

Sunghoon’s thrusts only get rougher to the point where you can’t hold back your moans. He smirks and drives his cock right into your sweet spot until filthy squelching fills the air. He told you to be quiet, but he doesn’t seem to be concerned with the bed creaking. From the look on his face, you can tell it’s the last thing he’s thinking about.

It’s all because your hot little cunt is like an addicting drug that muddles any rational thoughts.

“Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cream all over your big cock.”

“I know, baby,” Sunghoon coos as he starts circling your clit with his fingers. “Get daddy’s cock nice and wet so he can breed you like the good girl you are.”

His promise makes you cum hard. You bite down on his neck to muffle your cries of pleasure as your juices gush all over his cock. Sunghoon groans and fucks you through your orgasm until you’re trembling.

Your stepdad pulls your head back and gives you a filthy kiss as he shoots his load into your messy cunt. You moan in delight, moving your hips to get his hot cum deeper inside you. He grinds his throbbing cock into you until you can hear your mom and her guests moving into the kitchen.

The frat house is crowded as usual, with people getting drunk and high on whatever substances they prefer in their system. On any other night, Jay would find the scene irritable and annoying. 

After all, he always keeps himself in check, always sober and in control of his actions and thoughts, always so, so responsible. He’d prefer watching from the sidelines and being of help for when Riki starts throwing up from too much drinking or when Heeseung sings too loud after his second fill.

Jay is always responsible. He never lets himself on the loose.

But tonight, as the aftermath of his near-fight with Heeseung and him having to rush to the hospital after the burgundy-haired alpha collapsed in his omega’s doorway, despite Jay himself being too shaken to stand, he thinks he’s fine with getting slightly reckless.

Slightly reckless, in this case, is drinking more than the two red cups he usually gets.

“Why are we using fruits to represent anatomy?” 

Back to the situation at hand, where he’s sitting on top of a tall stool around the kitchen island, Sunoo is throwing Jake a grimace. Beside him, Riki already has his head bobbing to the music, a telltale sign of a blackout drunk that would usually result in Jay and Sunoo cleaning his mess up. A defeated sigh leaves his lips involuntarily.

Jay downs another shot.

"I don't want to be too explicit," Jake shrugs, like it's the most normal thing to do. "So, peach or cherry?"

Jay knows how this will go.

Riki is an ass guy, judging from the way he likes to slap anyone's butt within his proximity. Jake is both because he's an indecisive little shit who's just too greedy to pick. If pussy was on the options, he'd pick all three.

Sunoo, despite his reckless endeavor with alphas, Jay has never heard him doing anything more than a messy make-out and a blowjob. But he might be an ass guy too, just because he has a juicy fat ass. Heeseung—well, if he was here, anyway—would've said boobs, because Jay knows him a little too well which makes him privy to the former's (previously) sexually active life.

And Jay—he's too respectful to even answer that.

True to his own guess, Riki shakes his head drunkenly from beside an expressionless Sunoo. "My girl is perfect," he says, then grins cheekily. "But I like taking her from the back. Shit, you shouldn't know that."

"We shouldn't, dumbass. Why are you airing out your bedroom activities to us?" Sunoo rolls his eyes, but there's no bite to it. Everybody knows how loose Riki's tongue can get when he's wasted. On any other sober days, he would gate-keep the hell out of his omega. "Anyway, peach."

Jay has guessed almost everything right. He downs another shot.

A shit-eating grin appears on Jake's face. "I knew it, Sunny, you're an ass guy!"

"It's not really a groundbreaking discovery," Sunoo shrugs his shoulders, then turns to Jay. "Jay hyung, what about you?"

Jay is a respectful guy, so there's no way he would ever answer that. He shakes his head, already dizzy from the buzzing alcohol in his system.

"I don't like talking about this."

A chorus of groans echoes around the island. Only Sunoo smiles at him.

"You're no fun, Jjongsaeng," Jake shoves his shoulders playfully. "It's harmless conversation. As for me, I like anything they give me, but I love pussy the most. Which will make me a butterfly guy."

Sunoo lets out a loud groan, while Riki is already giggling. "Are you calling pussy a butterfly? Hyung, please shut the fuck up."

It's ridiculous, really. Jay loves his friends, but they sometimes do questionable things that makes him want to rip his own hair out. If Jungwon was here, he would be up his ass and plot ways to get on his nerves. If Sunghoon was here, well, Jay likes his company the most because he's the calmest and doesn't say controversial shits that could get them cancelled. His friends can be insufferable sometimes, but the most annoying one at this moment is none other than Heeseung.

Thinking about the burgundy-haired alpha just makes his wolf bitter all over again. Seriously, what did he do wrong? Heeseung should've been thanking him instead for keeping his omega dry from the rain. Not taking him down in an almost-fistful physical attack, and definitely not this silent treatment between them that makes their shared apartment smaller than it is, on-edge pheromones suffocating the air.

Jay is pissed. Pissed that they haven't made up yet and pissed at himself for being too kind.

Is he too kind? Should he just let her get soaked in the rain?

He grabs his red cup, ready to feel the alcohol again, and sighs quietly when there's only a drop left inside. Jay is about to stand and refill more booze, but he's stopped by a firm hand on his wrist.

He looks up to a worried Sunoo.

The younger alpha gives him a once-over. He probably looks so red in the face right now, but nobody seems to notice because Jake and Riki are somehow trying to bite each other's heads off arguing about the proper fruit representative for a pussy.

"You're drinking a lot tonight," Sunoo finally says, ever the observant. "Did something happen?"

Everything happened.

Is what Jay wants to say badly.

That near-fight with Heeseung happened. That still-awkward tension between him and Riki's mate happened. That weird glances mated alphas throw at him whenever he's around their omegas happened. That flirty and hopeful stares omegas give him whenever he so as looks their way happened.

And, despite everything, him still not meeting his mate happened.

If anyone should be envious, it's Jay. Not Heeseung. Not Riki.

"Envious of?"

Shit. He said that out loud, didn't he?

He was about to deflect, but now that Sunoo is fixing him with that foxy gaze, glinting with relentless curiosity that won't back down no matter the excuses, Jay knows he has nowhere to go. He looks to his left, where Jake and Riki has reconciled and agree that no fruit matches with a pussy's shape because apparently pussy is too special for fruit comparisons, settling on calling it flower instead, and now have started discussing about how diabolical it is to compare a dick to an eggplant, and sighs.

Jay thinks he needs new friends. Better friends, even. Except Sunoo. And Sunghoon.

"Hyung?"

When Jay's sure that Jake and Riki are too wasted and distracted to eavesdrop, he finally relents.

"I…Sunoo-yah," he swipes a tongue across his bottom lip. "Is there something wrong with me?"

This is why he hates getting drunk. Because his body recognises alcohol as invitation to start talking deep shits and pouring his heart out like an endless stream of river. It's not a bad thing to be vulnerable, but Jay has guarded his heart so tight that only certain people have the privilege to listen to his deepest secrets.

Thankfully, tonight is just his luck. Rather than exposing himself to a stranger, which has been his biggest fear when getting drunk, it's Sunoo who's listening to him attentively. The brown-haired alpha is looking at him softly, amber eyes full of understanding and encouragement, and it makes the tension in his shoulders slowly melt away.

"Why'd you say that?"

Jay is quiet for a moment. Right, why would he? Then he remembers Heeseung and Riki, those omegas and alphas, and, finally—his own wolf.

"Am I too…" he sucks in a breath, not wanting to sound self-absorbed, but it's what he's been hearing from people.

"Am I too much of a green flag?"

Sunoo didn't expect that from him, judging by the micro-surprise in his expression. Maybe he should stop there and let Sunoo reply, but now that he finally lets it out, Jay finds it easy to just continue.

"Is it wrong to be a kind alpha? I think it wasn't, but seeing how anxious and weary alphas can get when I'm being a gentleman to their omegas…" he trails off, hating the fact that it's his best friends' faces that appear on his mind. "I think it's a mistake. I shouldn't be too kind, right?"

There's a muffled silence between them, dampened by the loud bass from the living room and the sharp citrus turning bitter in the air. Jay looks off to the kitchen island, realising that it's now just him and Sunoo in that space; Jake and Riki are now joining the beer pong just getting started in the backyard.

Across from him, a look of understanding crosses Sunoo's face.

"There's no such thing as being too kind, hyung."

"Then why am I being punished for it?" He cuts in sharply. "Why do I feel bad for doing those things to them?"

He still remembers, the day Riki showed up in his apartment, crying because his lifelong crush wanted Jay to help her with her heat. Riki begged him not to agree, and Jay had done so—it didn't feel right to do that, especially when he knows about the younger boy's feelings for his childhood friend. But then Riki changed his mind and convinced him to say yes, because 'I didn't want her to go through it alone in indescribable pain, and I don't want to ruin our friendship if it's not me that she wanted. Please help me, hyung, she's just presented as an omega. It'll be too dangerous for her to do it alone.'

He had agreed out of sympathy for his younger friend, but somehow him agreeing had bloomed jealousy in the alpha's heart. Jay understands—Riki is still too young, and young alphas are the most territorial creatures to walk on this Earth—but it still hurts his feeling to be treated like a Mr. Steal Your Girl, when he has never stolen anything except omegas' hearts unintentionally.

Riki had apologised and admitted to his immaturity, but still, it wasn't enough to erase weeks of awkward silences and clipped conversations over a single apology. His omega has been extra cautious around Jay, and it always makes him sore to hold back from being himself around her. Or around any taken omegas, for the record.

So, really, he'd appreciate it a lot if Sunoo could just be honest with him and tell him, 'Yes, hyung, you're too kind for your own good,' instead of sugarcoating it.

But of course Sunoo would say the opposite.

"The ones who did that to you aren't the people you helped, right?" Sunoo says, smooth voice weaving through the music like it's meant to find Jay no matter the noise. "It's always the jealous alphas. But I'm sure those omegas were thankful for you for helping them. You're not being punished, hyung. You're just too good that you kinda intimidated these alphas into thinking that their mates would run to you the second they look away."

Jay doesn't know what to say to that. Sunoo always has this way of charming people with his words, the kind that can convince a criminal that they're a saint with that lilt in his voice that only he has. He's not sure if Sunoo really means it, or if it's the truth as it is.

The younger alpha sees right through him. "You're doubting me."

"No! No, I'm just—" Jay pauses, hating the fact that he is indeed doubting his friend's words, and decides to just be honest. "Okay—yeah. You're right. It's hard to believe you."

Sunoo hums, not the slightest offended. He leans forward, turning his head to watch the ongoing beer pong, seen through the transparent sliding door. Jay follows his line of sight, and feels his chest tighten when he sees Riki making out with his omega.

It's the familiar ache that he felt when he saw the mating mark on Riki's neck. The same longing he feels whenever his mated teammates talk about their fulfilled love life. It's like a circle of bubble that Jay doesn't dare burst, being the only one outside of a room full of people who have found the meaning of love.

I wish I could have that too.

Sunoo catches him before he could mask his scent. He throws Jay an expressionless look. For a moment, Jay prepares himself for a 'Gotcha!' comment from him, but the younger alpha only gives him a close-lipped smile.

"Ah, hyung. I should've known. You want a mate, don't you?"

"I don't," Jay is quick to deny, but upon seeing the knowing glint in Sunoo's eyes, he realises there's no point in denying. He sighs for the umpteenth time that night.

"Yes, I do. But it's not as easy as you might think."

"Why? I'm pretty sure there are many omegas who'd throw themselves at you."

"But I can't because I…" Jay licks his lips, "I don't find anyone I like enough yet."

Sunoo doesn't say anything for a long, stretched moment. Jay almost squirms under his dissecting eyes. It feels as though Sunoo is picking him apart by his gaze and his scent alone, seeing parts of himself that he wouldn't show bare. It's unnerving yet weirdly comforting at the same time, having someone who can see right through him despite the walls he built.

"Hyung, everything about this gentleman persona and you wanting a mate—there's only one thing I can say."

Jay swallows thickly, mind sobering up with each passing second. "What?"

"You are with this kindness not without a purpose," Sunoo says calmly, like he hasn't just dropped the most riddled sentence that sounds too Shakespeare-ish to Jay's drunken mind.

"Huh?"

"I'm saying, there is someone out there who needs your kindness, hyung. Your patience. Your heart," Sunoo flashes him a small smile, sincere and genuine. "You'll meet them someday. And when you do, you'll understand why you are the way you are. You are never too much for someone who's meant to hold you."

Jay hears him, truly, but that promise sounds so distant and far away. Like a reality he's witnessesing from a different universe, through a portal of lifelong waiting and yearning. He wants to believe it, wants to hold onto every syllable and let it be his new faith, but the deepest, ugly part of him doesn't believe he belongs to that kind of destiny.

He doesn't say anything. Not that he has the chance to when the smell of burning chocolate greets his senses and soon, an upset Jungwon is already filling up the space with his broad shoulders and moody pheromones.

A black leather jacket, zipped up to his chin, hugs his body, highlighting his wide figure under the kitchen light, paired with leather pants. Jungwon's hair is messy, untamed around the frame of his eyes, and Jay knows why when he sees the helmet in his arm.

"Hyung, be honest. Do I look too baby-faced?" The alpha pouts, gesturing at his body. "Even after wearing this whole gear? I even rode my precious bike to see her!"

Jay doesn't have to stay to know that Jungwon's whining about the older omega he has a crush on, someone that used to babysit him when he was 10 years old and is now still treating him like a baby. He would've stayed to listen and comfort the younger alpha, really, but unfortunately for Jungwon, Jay also needs some comfort for himself before he loses his fucking mind.

He grabs his red cup and stands up, needing the alcohol to be in his system now more than anything. The other two alphas don't notice him leaving, and if they do, Jay's sure Sunoo's more interested to hear about Jungwon's failing love life than his already-doomed one.

Jay makes his way through the crowd, giving polite smiles to everyone in his way. He's not really a fan of this kind of crowd—it's more of Heeseung's and Riki's crowd—but it's the least of his concerns now. The alpha squeezes past dancing omegas whose stares linger, past a group of alphas who give him a nod of acknowledgement, past a pair of lovers making out on the wall.

That makes him falter.

Jay blames it on the alcohol. Really, he's usually not like this. It's actually easier to act like not having a mate among friends who are already mated doesn't affect him when his thoughts are more coherent and making sense. But right now, as he watches the couple giggling at each other, lips in ears and soft eyes looking into soft eyes, a pinch of envy twists in his chest.

Jay huffs, leaving the scene faster than he'd like to admit. Seriously, if he was so good and kind like everybody had said, if he's the picture-perfect alpha like every family member had boasted about, then why is it only him alone with no one to hold? Why is it always him who's cleaning after everybody's mess when he only watches on the sidelines as they get their happy ending? Why is it that people who run from love are more favoured than someone who's always been ready like him?

What about him? What about his happy ending?

After what felt like hours, Jay finally finds his booze. Jake has an eccentric preference of placing the booth all over the frat house, and the one in the kitchen has long ran out. He's standing at the booth by the stairs right now, the majority of them still untouched. Jay pours into his cup full to the brim. His senses are already tingling with the thoughts of drinking more.

When the alcohol buzzes through his system, Jay lets out a satisfied sigh. God, he's so carefree tonight. But whatever, he's pretty sure Sunoo can drive them home safely. Right now, Jay's focus is only on making himself feel better and forget whatever ruckus that has unfolded the past few weeks.

He pours more when his cup empties. From where he's standing, the bass doesn't really reach him, a bit distant from the speaker now blasting Miley Cyrus' Party In The U.S.A.. It makes the conversation around him sounds clearer in his ears. Including the ones coming from upstairs.

Jay pays them no mind. He's not here for gossips or shits and giggles—he's here to cool off. But when something sweet, something that reminds him of his mom's berry strudels and morning coffee drifts into his nose, Jay's senses sharpen.

Is someone baking? He wonders alone. The last time he left the kitchen, there were only Sunoo and Jungwon. As far as he remembers, neither could touch the oven without risking an explosion.

So where does this sweet scent come from?

It gets sweeter the more he spends his focus on it. Jay looks around, mind still buzzing, unable to find the source of the scent that has piqued his interest through the haziness. His nose twitches. Even in his drunken state, Jay can't help but notice how constrasting the scent is to his sharp citrus.

And for some reason, his wolf likes it.

"Is it from the stairs?" he mumbles, stumbling to the foot of the stairs, drink sloshing in his cup.

But just as he's about to look up, he's already colliding into a soft body coming down from upstairs.

"Ah!"

Oh no.

Jay watches in horror as the drink in his hand spills all over the person's shirt, staining the white fabric with yellowish mark that almost looks like someone's piss. He freezes, mouth gaping in surprise, but the only thing his hazy mind picks up is 'Yes, he's finally found where the scent comes from.'

It's from the victim of his booze.

Or rather, the furious omega who's looking down at him with a sneer on her face right now.

"Hey!" You yell, face burning red. "Look at what you did!"

Oh, Jay is definitely looking. For some reason, his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every feature decorating your sweet face. The perfectly sculpted brows that are now frowning deep, the round eyes that are narrowing down at him, the full lips that are pulled into a tight, dissatisfied line.

Such an angry omega. But also the most beautiful he's ever laid his eyes on.

"Hey, stupid alpha. I'm talking to you!"

Jay has never seen you before. Who are you? Why are you making his heart beat so fast? Why is his wolf wiggling his tail at the sight of you?

"Oh my fucking God. So fucking annoying."

Even when you're glaring at him, under the dim light of Jake's frat house, you look very, very pretty. Are you even real, or just a drunken manifestation of his desperation for a mate?

Jay's too starstruck and drunk to notice how dumb he must look right now, but you've had enough of the alpha gaping at you like a dying fish. You shake his shoulders, manicured nails digging into his shirt.

"Earth to dumbass alpha! Hello??? You just spilled your drink all over my Limited Edition Cherry Chanel Baby Tee!"

Oh, right. Jay snaps out of his reverie, and drops his eyes on your chest to see the damage he's done.

But instead of realising his mistake, he's realising something else instead.

The wet patch darkens your shirt from its usual shade, sticking to your chest like second skin. From where he's standing so close, just a step below you on the stairs, his eyes level with your chest, Jay has a belated realisation that you have such perfect…boobs.

They're slightly bigger than average, perfectly-shaped and round, and they sit so nicely that Jay feels like they'd beat his expensive pillows in softness. A thought, a small thought that sober-Jay would never have, crosses his mind.

Jay wants to bury his face in your chest to test it.

Oh my God. This is bad. Drunk-Jay is so, so bad. He's really malfunctioning tonight.

You, on the other hand, are already at your wits' ends. It doesn't help that the shirt feels so sticky, so uncomfortable and it irritates you to the core. Also, why the fuck is this stupid alpha staring at your chest like—like he wants to touch it?

"Hey!" you push his shoulder again, but the alpha doesn't budge. You grit your teeth. "My eyes are up here, dumbass!"

Jay breathes out. "Che…rry."

Your brows furrow in confusion.

"What?"

"Cherry." Jay repeats, eyes never leaving your chest. His mind is dissolving into mixed up conversations—he can hear Jake's voice, your voice, and the bass mixing together.

"I prefer…cherry."

There is a heavy silence that follows, loaded with bubbling anger, drunk confusion, and a very, very horrific realisation that he's talking about your chest. Your mouth falls open.

With a handsome face and neat shirt like that, you can't believe that this alpha is such a fucking pervert!

"Yah! Are you crazy?! What cherry?!" You scream, attracting more attention on the two of you. Jay barely blinks. "Are you talking about—about my boobs?!"

Jay blinks blearily, then nods.

"Your…cherry."

You let out a scandalised gasp. Humiliation starts creeping up your face, painting your skin even redder than before.

This is ridiculous. This is diabolical! The audacity of this alpha—!

Before you know it, your hand already swipes across his cheek in a surprised, harsh slap. Jay's head jerks to the side, his own eyes growing wide at the impact. A ringing silence echoes between the two of you, followed by a chorus of gasps from the onlookers.

After literally getting slapped into his senses, Jay sobers up in that one single moment and realises with a dread, What the fuck did he just do?

He slowly looks back at you, touching his stinging cheek like you had personally offended his whole bloodline. You're glaring at him, chest heaving rapidly like you can't contain your anger any longer.

"You fucking pervert!"

Jay's breath hitches. He's a pervert?

"Get away from me!"

The alpha lets his body get shoved to the side like a door blocking the way. He stands there, motionless, as he watches you leave, angry steps making your hair bounce. Shame and guilt start crawling up his chest when his mind decides to replay the scene, realising in horror how out of character he had been and how rude he was to you.

Oh God. Oh my God.

Seriously, Park Jongseong? Cherry? That's the first thing you say to the literal love of your life?

"Isn't that Park Jongseong?"

"Oh my God, I thought he was a green flag?"

"I guess even a green flag still has a knot to satisfy."

"Park Jongseong is a pervert?"

Jay squeezes his eyes shut and runs a hand down his face. He doesn't really care about his reputation, so the whispers barely bother him.

What he cares more is the lingering scent of acidic espresso and rotting cherries in the air, trailing after you even when you're long gone. His cheek still burns, but he couldn't care less because—you know…he kind of deserved it.

Fuck.

And Jay doesn't even know your name.

"All alphas are nothing but a knothead!"

You spit, seething in anger as you glare at anyone in your way. Not even the loud music can muffle your voice, sending death threats and insults to a certain alpha (and literally all other alphas.)

Maybe it's just your bad day, because just as you finally see your exit, an alpha—stupidly broad-shouldered alpha, fuck alphas and their ridiculous proportions—bumps into you. You click your tongue and look up at him.

"Why do you guys stupid alphas only think with your dick, your cock, and only your small fucking knot?!"

The alpha stares at you in horror. It seems like today is more of his unlucky day than yours.

"I-I don't—"

"What? You don't have a dick?" You cut him off, irritation pulling at your nerves. Tonight is such a shitty night. "Isn't that the only thing you alphas are proud of? Thinking with your knot and tricking omegas with your cock?!"

The poor alpha stands there cowering, hanging his head low as if he's already accepted his fate of being the receiving end of your hatred towards alphas and…dicks.

You push a trembling finger on his chest, eyes prickling with tears. Fuck these hormones and emotions, fuck this soft scent that makes people think you're nothing more than a weak, defenceless omega—you've had enough of everything.

"Am I wrong? Isn't that why Riki cheated on me?!" You yell, not caring if people catch your words. "Because his dick can't get enough with only one pussy?!"

A ripple of murmurs and whispers start spreading around you. Even the DJ has turned the volume down slightly, taken aback by the sudden drop of the bomb of truth.

A cheating scandal? That's the juiciest gossip college students could have ever had.

The nameless alpha looks at you, eyes wide in surprise mixed with disappointment when he hears your words.

"Oh my God—there's no way—Riki cheated?" He stammers. "Nishimura Riki cheated?"

"Who the fuck is Nishimura Riki?" Your brows furrow, first time hearing that family name. "It's Hirota Riki! My stupid, cheating ex who's immature and younger than me and just plain dumb like a textbook alpha!"

The relief physically vanishes from his face. Then, as if realising what you have said, his face mirrors your confusion. "Wait—you mean Maki? That German-Japanese guy?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. Of course people know him. You almost forgot that your ex, other than being a piece of garbage and a pain in your ass, is also a famous model for the college magazines. His face is everywhere, in every campaign and poster and advertisements, wearing clothes that always gains attention.

Clothes that you designed and sewn by hand.

The back of your eyes burn with tears, but you blink them back, not wanting people to see your sadness. You'd rather they have your anger and rage, because lashing out and being called crazy for screaming seem less vulnerable than the little drops of tears down your cheeks.

You push at the alpha weakly, every fibre of your being just begging to go home and forget everything about tonight.

"Are you okay, angry omega?"

"Shut up," you hiss, voice shaky. "I'm leaving this place."

The crowd parts for you as you make your way to the exit. You sway slightly, too drained from spending your energy screaming at everyone and no one at the same time.

You hate the prying eyes. You hate the pitying words. You hate the whispers. But there's nothing you can do when it's you who accidentally aired out your ex boyfriend's scandal in your fit of anger.

It's been two months since the breakup—a breakup that you thought was healthy and reasonable. Maki told you that he was going to get busy with growing his career, balancing his job as a freelance model with being an engineering student was starting to take up most of his time. Somewhere in between schedules, he no longer could find the time to love you, to fit you in his world of fame and glory.

You didn't want to hold him back. Even when you had liked him more than you ever did anyone, you still let him go. The relationship lasted only for nine months, and you never really expected anything serious or long lasting from dating someone in college.

But tonight, a friend let the truth slip.

Maki didn't break up with you because he wanted time for his career growth—or whatever bullshit he spouted at you. No.

He has been seeing another omega behind your back. Someone from the same major as you.

It's no surprise that you didn't find out any sooner. Being a fashion major warrants competitiveness and rivals—and you're not exactly well-loved by your fellow designers. You're the notorious omega known for your ridiculous standards, your pride and stubbornness, and your sharp tongue. It's your brilliant designs that get people to at least pretend to be your friends, hoping to steal a bit of your creative talent—but you always smell bullshit from miles away.

So, really, it upsets you that you failed to detect Maki's bullshit first. And people have been keeping it from you because they like to see your downfall.

And what better downfall is there than seeing your ex cheating on you with your fashion rival?

It's not like you liked him to the point of love—no. It's the betrayal that makes your mouth feel dry, heart heavy in ways it never had been before, like an anchor pulling down ships to sink.

Before you know it, you're already outside. The air is too chilly for your skin, amplified by the wet stain on your chest. You bite your lips, on the verge of tears when you're reminded of that perverted alpha.

Another alpha that only caused you humiliation. Really?

How can someone look at you like you're the most divine being one minute, then blatantly stare at your chest the next?

It's beyond you, really. Alphas are just evolutionary failures.

You fish out your phone from your wallet and look for an Uber. You're not too drunk to drive. If anything, you've never felt more sober in your life. It's just skills issue—you just cannot drive. Even when you have a whole damn Porsche in the garage of your family's mansion; a gift from your overly-doting parents who got too excited when you managed to get into fashion school—it still terrifies you to hold the steering wheel.

All of these privileges and wealth, yet no success in the dating department (and driving classes). Your whole life, you have dated a cheater, a closeted alpha who was too scared to tell you that he liked knots better than your pussy, and just a total manchild who sulked back whenever you pouted.

"Seriously," you mutter, confirming your location on the screen. "When will it be my turn to date an actual manly alpha?"

You pause. Now that you think of it, even so-called green-flag alphas give you the ick.

They're just a bunch of performative males. Just look at the college's beloved cheater. Maki was acting like a green forest itself when he was courting you!

None of these alphas can be trusted!

"I will just die single," you decide, closing the app once your driver is confirmed. Your parents have more than enough money to support you anyway.

You stand at the porch in silence, the sound of the bass can be heard faintly through the walls. The stickiness of your shirt is now long forgotten; you've given up thinking about it when the memory of your ex comes back. There are more pressing matters at hand that need your attention.

Like the upcoming fashion week, no doubt will get you into another spiral of self-doubt and stress. Like your parents who keep insisting you meet this one young, handsome bachelor that apparently would be just your type—but you're still hurt by Maki's action that you haven't found the right timing to say yes. Like your favourite cherry Chanel baby tee, now ruined and stained, and you wonder if you should send it for dry cleaning or pay a fortune to scalpers—

"Miss?"

A deep timbre greets your hearing. It's soft and a tad bit familiar, like you've heard it somewhere before.

You turn around and immediately frown when you see him.

It's that perverted alpha.

"What?" You reply, already annoyed. The alpha blinks at you, looking more sober than before. His collar is folded neatly now, and the red tips of his ears are hinting more on shyness than alcohol influence.

He gives you a nervous smile. "I came to apologise."

Tch. Another performative alpha. But this one likes to stare at your chest too much.

You roll your eyes and turn back to the front, wishing for your driver to arrive fast.

"Just save your breath and go. You don't even know what you're apologising for."

One thing you hate about men, especially alphas, is that they never mean their sorry's. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything'. Everything is too generic. They don't have any idea what they apologise for. The phrase has lost its value from how often it flows out of their mouths without meaning.

But this alpha is a bit more stubborn than you think. He shuffles closer, still keeping a safe distance, and stands next to you. Now closer, you can smell the citrusy scent wafting from him—sharp and refreshing, something that reminds you of summer. It has to be his pheromones.

Well, okay. He has sexy pheromones. You'll admit that. Too bad that the owner is already on your blacklist.

"I apologise for spilling my drinks on you and ruining your baby tee," he begins, turning his body facing you. But you refuse to look.

"It's the Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee," you correct him. From your peripheral vision, you can faintly see him grin.

"Yes, I'm sorry for ruining your Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee."

Okay. He's obedient. But it could be performative. Maybe he's just trying to get into your pants. You're not oblivious to how beautiful you look. You know that your family has good genes.

"And I apologise for staring at your chest inappropriately. I came off as a pervert even when I didn't mean to," he breathes out, voice lowering down in shame. "I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable."

Something tugs at your heart unexpectedly. It surprises you that this alpha actually knows what he's apologising for, unlike your previous exes who only said sorry to get your nagging self off their backs. You shift slightly, unwilling to let this new change get to your head.

"Well, apology heard," you retort, still strong on not letting the alpha get too close—or accepting his apology. "But I'm not sorry for slapping you. So don't expect an apology from me."

An amused chuckle slips past his lips. His lemon scent bursts in the air, sounding too elated for your liking.

What's so funny?

"I guess I deserved it," the alpha, whose name you just realise you never know, replies as he touches his cheek with a brush of his fingers. You take a glance, satisfaction blooming in your chest when you notice the red mark on the tender skin.

That's what alphas like him deserve. Omegas run the world anyway.

You don't bother to say anything, just letting the cold breeze of night wind engulf you. It seeps into your bones, making you shiver almost too aggressively. The driver is still five minutes away, taking suspiciously long time at the red light just in front of a Burger King drive-thru.

You feel eyes on you before you feel his movements. The alpha sheds his trench coat, brushing wrinkles off the fabric before he hands it to you. You almost sigh, both out of relief and annoyance because really, you could use some extra layers right now but seriously, does it have to be in the most cliche, K-drama-worthy situation ever?

"What is this," you flatly ask, unimpressed.

"You're cold."

"How did you know that I'm cold?"

You watch the tip of his ears blush, and then his eyes traitorously drop to your chest before quickly lift up to face you again.

"I just…noticed."

You roll your eyes before looking down. "I know it's soaked, and it's—"

The words die on your tongue.

Your nipples. They're erect from the cold, mounting the thin, drenched fabric of your shirt in deadly-obvious pebbles. You brain dissolves into incoherent blabbering as a heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. It's seriously the worst day ever to choose not wearing a bra.

You don't know if it's shame, or anger, or both, but when you look up to the now-blushing alpha, there's rage boiling over like a kettle about to whistle.

"I fucking knew it!" You couldn't hold yourself back this time, snatching the coat and smacking the alpha with the fabric. The alpha's eyes widen as he cowers to dodge your attack.

"You're just a pervert!"

"I-I'm not! I'm sorry—ow! Ow!"

You don't relent and keep hitting him with his coat, tears of shame threatening to spill over.

"What are you sorry for, you performative wolf?!" Smack! Smack! "You just ogled at my chest again!"

"I didn't mean to—ow! I'm sorry!"

With one final hit, you throw the coat at his face with all your might. He clumsily catches it, eyes wide with shock. The anger is hot, too hot that the cold doesn't bother you anymore, in fact you think steam might rise from your head in any second. With a huff, you stomp down the porch, ignoring his cries of sorry's from behind.

"I-I'm sorry! It's a misunderstanding! I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable again!"

"Shut the fuck up! You better not show your face anymore!" You flip him off without looking back.

However, upon seeing the Uber driver, you take a U-turn and stomp back to the alpha. His eyes immediately light up, there's a thin layer of moisture in his eyes. Maybe the coat hit his eyes or he's just so performative he'd cry if he could, you don't really care.

"You came back," he breathes out. "I'm sorry—"

"I said shut up!" You yell, already too irritated and overstimulated. While you're at it—embarrassing yourself to the point of no return—you snatch his trench coat and sling it over your chest shamelessly.

The driver is also an alpha, and you're not risking flashing your tits to another pervert.

"I'm taking this. Bye!"

"Wait!"

"And I am NOT returning it!"

With a harsh slam of the door, the car finally drives into the horizon, leaving behind a confused and guilty and perverted alpha as he chases after your Uber. Your chest heaves deeply, adrenaline running hot as your face flushes. You pretend not to notice the bag of chips and burger in the driver's lap, or the way the perverted alpha stands smaller in the side mirror as he watches you leave.

You just hope you never see that alpha again.

You never see that alpha again. However, as if you had personally offended the Earth and the entire Solar system, the Goddess doubles it down and sends your cheating ex to your studio instead.

His presence is too invasive that you feel him before you see him. His pheromones, now making your hair stand instead of providing the comfort that it used to do, breaches your senses when you round the corner. You had just stepped out to get some lunch, already grumpy from resisting your persistent mom and her chosen alpha for you to mate, when you see Maki walk down the hallway like it was his runway.

Your stomach drops. Like it's survival instinct, you turn back around and speed-walk to your studio. It's like a drum war being hit inside your chest, and you hope you're fast enough because you really, really don't want to deal with him right now.

Just as you're about to close the door, a force of Maki's hands pushes it back open. You stumble backwards, eyes wide in surprise as Maki effortlessly slips inside. His body, tall and wrong and crowding, swallows the room like a black hole sucking in the light and leaving you empty and alone in the darkness.

There's a lazy smirk playing at his lips.

"If it's not my favourite ex."

His voice is dripping with honey, a sweet poison that always gets to you no matter how hard you pretend it doesn't. It's sticky and uncomfortable, it makes you squirm and feel like there's something you should be scrambling for. It gets under your skin and Maki always gets the reaction that he wants.

You snap, face pulling into a scowl.

"What do you want, Maki?"

Maki lets your voice fade, acting like he didn't hear you. With his hands in the pockets of his jeans, the young alpha straightens, easy eyes meeting your sharp ones. And when he speaks, the words roll off his tongue so smoothly, like seeing the person he used to love didn't affect him the slightest. Like you didn't have such an impact on him the way he does you.

"Did I cheat, Y/N?"

The question strikes you dumb for a moment, but you recover quickly. Of course. Words spread fast on campus, especially if the source is the frat house. You knew it'd reach Maki eventually, but you didn't expect it to be this fast. It's like every person inside that house was an extension of Maki; the golden boy, the people's favourite, the face painting every cover of magazine.

You try to hide the tremble in your fists.

"You did."

Maki hums noncommittally.

"Do you have proof?"

"Liz told me," your voice grits out, "You'd been fucking around with your new girlfriend since you were with me."

The alpha tilts his head, still wearing that laid-back expression that you wish you could slap off his face. "Did she?"

"Yes. Now get out of here, you fucking stink—"

"Why would she help you, Y/N?" Maki calmly cuts you off, a bored tone in his voice. Like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, like he'd rather deal with a child than you. His smug face makes your skin prickle. You hate how easily he can hit your nerves.

Maki takes a step closer, taunting as ever.

"Had you started thinking that you have friends now?"

It's a soft blow that lands hard in your chest. Maki used to know you, therefore he knows all the ugly parts of you. And seeing him turning every knowledge he has of you into a weapon against you feels like being forced looking into a mirror that you've spent your whole life avoiding.

Your fists shake, nails digging into soft skin, almost drawing blood.

"Even if she lied to me, you got together with your new girlfriend so quick after the breakup," you spit between gritted teeth, holding back more than words. "That told me enough."

Maki is silent for a few heartbeats, his face unreadable.

"So what?"

There's a drop in your heart. Confused, disbelieving. "What?"

"What's wrong with moving on from you so fast? You didn't think you were so special for me to weep around, did you?"

There's a vaccuumed silence that swallows you whole. His words, casually laid out like he was discussing the weather, like the matters of your heart was something he wasn't concerned about, seep into your skin and every fibre of your being. The thoughts turn and curl, igniting a numbing buzz that replays his voice like a broken record.

Special. What's so special about you?

And when even you cannot find an answer, you feel the first crack in your chest.

Maki revels in your silence; in the first sign of submission. His smugness is loud in the studio, his pheromones flaring with dominance. He advances, taking deliberate steps, circling you like a predator assessing its prey.

"You've always been like this. So fiery, so passionate. All this energy yet no particular direction to go to," he drawls out, the words tumbling out lazily. He stops right in front of you, only a few centimeters away, and makes a show of looking around your studio.

He takes in the rumpled fabric, the crumpled sketchbooks, the spilled coffee. It appears as what he just observed: too much energy with no proper control. Loud. Messy. Reckless.

You.

"You can't even keep your studio tidy, Y/N," he breathes out a sigh.

"What's so unforgettable about you?"

When you had first started fashion school, you'd been told by every living person that money couldn't buy talent. No matter how big your mother's name is in the beauty and healthcare industry, no matter how prominent your father is in the automobile sector—you're nothing more than a mundane, passing student if you don't possess talent. And here, people always feel the need to remind you of that fact, especially after learning about the affluent background you come from.

So you learned. It's not like you got here through nepotism, anyway—you got in through your own grit. Your parents had always wanted you to get into med school, and the only thing you're good with when it comes to medicines is drawing the anatomy by hand. That sketch turned into figures and furls and soon, your dream to study fashion finally bloomed.

You have the talent and you have the grit. People always pass you nice compliments and constructive feedbacks you often dwell on—but the sleepless nights didn't really matter when you could finally see your collection walking down the runway front-row. You wear your confidence loudly that sometimes it's easy to forget that some people hate shiny things.

Your designs are so forgettable.

Said the new lecturer one day, tearing your sketchbook apart in front of the whole class came the third semester.

It was humiliating; the kind that burned your skin and the back of your eyes. Your nails cracked under pressure, trying so hard not to shed tears in front of so many pairs of eyes. But no matter how hard you try to reassure yourself, the comment lingers. It becomes an invisible knife that twists each time someone so much as look at your designs the wrong way.

And the first mistake you did was open up about it to someone.

The second mistake was that someone was Maki, of all people.

Because now, that alpha—all pride and arrogance—is throwing back the exact same insult at you right in your reddening face.

What's so unforgettable about you?

What's so unforgettable about you?

What's so unforgettable about you?

"Nothing," Maki finishes, eyes never leaving your face, as if savouring every twitch of hurt in your features.

There's nothing unforgettable about you. Not your designs; someone else probably invented something far more interesting than you. Not your face; you're just another pretty omega in a sea of more pretty omegas. Not your scent; you smell like pastries that people can easily get from any bakery. And certainly not you as a whole.

That's what he meant by it, right?

You're just a plus-one. An afterthought. The reason why skip buttons exist.

A heavy lump forms in your throat.

Maki takes your silence as a win and steps back.

"Now be a good girl and retract your statement. I never cheated on you," he says with conviction that you start questioning your own truth. "It's just your omega hormones messing around with you."

The door closes with a thud, leaving behind a ringing silence, the echo of his insults bouncing off the walls. There's a thin veil of moisture in your eyes, but you refuse to cry.

You refuse to cry for the rest of your time in your studio, trying to fix some of the mess, hating yourself even more when you realise that you care about his comments more than you should.

You refuse to cry on your way home, sitting in silence at the backseat of your Uber, replaying Maki's words in an endless loop that you wish could stop.

You refuse to cry when you have nothing to eat for dinner, stomach growling in hunger for some warm, homecooked meals, yet you have to settle for takeout again.

You refuse to cry when you sit in the middle of your living room, a luxury apartment far too big for one person to live in, trying to eat the soggy noodles and too-drenched fried chicken.

But like any normal human being, you have a heart too—a soft one at that. You can only hold on for so long.

It's hard to ignore the vast, empty space of your apartment; of the two vacant rooms down the hallways; of the single mug, single cutlery set, single-everything because for some reason you half-know and half-not, you just don't have…friends. At least not those who can reach the depths of your being—just fleeting, surface-level friends. Or companion.

Or whatever it was that Maki said that finally got to your head.

The dam finally breaks when you enter your room.

For the first time in your life, your nest that you always keep tidy on the love couch you have by the window, your safe haven where you lie in to find comfort, becomes the spot that you want to avoid the most.

There, arranged into a circle, are all the things that smell like solace and consolation after a rough day—or at least used to. Maki used to be like that—used to be your person, used to be your comfort place. So it's almost pathetic that you are still clinging onto his hoodie, his sweatshirt, the mittens he gave you last winter, the plush bunny that he won at an arcade, for comfort long after the breakup happened.

God, you didn't even want that bunny. You wanted the black cat.

You pick up his hoodie. It's the one he asked you to wear during a movie night, the one he received as a gift from GAP after a modelling gig with them. With shaky hands, you press your nose into the fabric, trying to catch the person who used to care for you—the person he was before he is now.

His scent lingers, faint and fading, but it's still there. Pine and frost, cold and sharp as his features. But instead of the warm feeling that you used to get, his scent makes your stomach twist and churn, a bile rising behind your throat.

The first drop of tears slides down your cheek.

He's no longer your safe space. Hadn't been since that breakup. Hadn't been since the night he kissed another woman behind your back.

Without thinking, you throw the hoodie on the floor. The fabric lands with a soundless thud, but the indication is loud regardless. When you look back at the love couch, the sight almost breaks you into pieces.

Your nest is all destroyed.

With a cry of fury, you lunge, hands tearing his sweatshirt apart next. At your force, the plush bunny tilts sideway, further breaking the perfect circle that used to be your nest.

"It's just a nest," your voice trembles, but the words ring hollow. Inside, your wolf twists and turns, aggressively shaking her head.

A nest is never just a nest.

"I don't care!" you shout, stomping on the plush bunny. "It's not like—it's not like anything would ever comfort me anymore."

Your knees buckle, too worn after carrying the weight of your inner battles for so long. You slump on the floor, sobs wrecking your chest, the sound raw and scratched. As if on instinct, you bring your knees close to your chest, staring at the mess with a solemn, teary gaze.

You don't even know what you're crying for. It's not like you still have feelings for Maki; or at least, there's no positive feelings for him except for lingering resentment and a strong sense of betrayal.

Is it because what the destroyed nest symbolises?

That you're nothing but a lonely, easily-discarded omega?

That nothing will ever be safe enough for you to rely on anymore?

You might act strong on the outside and bite every bullet with squared shoulders, but if only they knew what you truly feel inside.

If only they knew.

A loud, shrill ringing from your phone cuts you off your silent misery. You drag your body to where your mattress is located at the center of your bedroom, your mom's contact name blinking to be picked up.

With a wipe on your cheeks and a sniffle, you answer the phone.

"My lovely daughter! How are you? Are you eating well, sweetheart?"

I just destroyed my nest. "I'm good, Mom. Just had dinner."

"Come visit this weekend! I'll send our chauffeur to you. I'm planning to—"

"Mom."

You look around your room. At the space that feels too big to fill in, the discarded fabric on the floor. Then, at your disheveled reflection in the mirror.

"Yes, daughter?"

You bite your lower lip, trembling. You look like a mess. Just like what Maki had said.

"I wanna go home."

There's a split second of silence before your mom's voice echoes again.

"You mean you wanna move back here, sweetheart?"

"Mhm," you almost sniffle but you catch yourself, not wanting to give yourself away. "I wanna live with you again."

"Oh, my! That means you agree that alpha, don't you?"

Sigh. You almost forgot about that. The silly condition your pouty mom makes if you ever want to live with them again. One that you've been trying to avoid, too busy with the fashion week preparation and planning revenge on your heartbreak.

But is there really anything to lose?

If you agree, you'll be in close proximity with what you'd say your comfort: your family, and the mansion you used to grow up in. A blind date is just free dinner and having an alpha shower your with praises and compliments. You might have to put up with a little bit of boasting here and there, but it's nothing you can't handle.

So long as you can escape this loneliness, even if only for temporary…

"Yeah," you breathe out. "I'll meet him."

Just let me go home to you, Mom.

Park Jongseong's cheek is still stinging.

But instead of acting like any other man who just got slapped would, he's wearing a giddy smile on his face. He's lying down on the couch, his apartment being the hangout spot of the day for the weekend, but thoughts about his friends are scattered away. Jay is absolutely gone and lost in cloud nine, a cherry-shaped cloud wearing the face of a certain beautiful omega that has been running on his mind as of late.

"Geez, this guy has turned crazy," Sunoo shakes his head before he nudges the older alpha. "Jay-hyung, I brought some ice packs for your cheek."

Jay absentmindedly reaches out his hand, barely registering his friend's words. "Sunoo-ya, Britney Spears was right."

Confusion knits Sunoo's brows closer. "Britney-noona?"

Jay hums. "I want her to hit me one more time."

Sunoo gives him a deadpanned look and then shoves the ice pack in his face. Jay yelps from the sudden cold contact.

"Ow!"

"Well, if you can't find her, I'm more than willing and capable to hit you one more time in her stead."

The older alpha huffs, pressing the cold compress into his swollen cheek. "You don't understand, Sunoo," he defends, "Her hands were so soft and she's so….beautiful."

"She slapped you."

"I deserved it."

"Yeah, cause you were ogling at her chest."

"I—" Jay gulps. Well, now it doesn't sound so good. "I mean…yeah, I did. I stared too long, in fact. That's why I said I deserved it."

Even while saying so, there's still this stupid smile decorating his handsome face. Sunoo can only shake his head, hands on his hips like a tired mom handling her teenage son's first underage drinking. It sounds that bad because it was that bad.

"I can't believe this is the end of Jay-hyung's gentleman era," Riki snorts from the floor. He's been hogging Jay's latest edition of PlayStation all to himself, secretly eavesdropping the two alpha's conversation.

Jay doesn't take it nicely. "What do you mean? I am still me."

"Mhm. Gentleman by day, boob enthusiast by night. Totally not a pervert."

Jay is open to criticism, especially anything to improve himself. But there's nothing to improve here. Jay is just…in love. Okay, that's a bit too soon. Jay is infatuated would be the best way to describe his situation right now because there's no doubt that he, as in human-Jay, and his wolf, like you.

Yes, in a romantic way. Yes, in a 'he wants to court you' way. Yes, in a 'I need her name and a priest now because he does hope he can marry you' way.

He's everything but he's not a pervert. No. And Jay has a hard time receiving criticism about his personality if it comes from a certain alpha named Nishimura Riki, and another alpha named Lee Heeseung. Call it pettiness or a vendetta, but those two have no right to say shit about him. Right now or ever.

Beside him, Sunoo starts to sigh. "Riki."

"What? At least we know why omegas like you now."

Jay's expression hardens. There's a twitch in his jaw that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunoo.

"What do you mean by that?"

Riki, still not sensing the sudden drop of temperature in the room, casually shrugs. "I'm saying maybe you've always been looking. Heeseung-hyung and I knew better."

A heavy silence blankets the room, suffocating each corner with unspoken rage. Sunoo almost recoils from the sudden bitterness that comes from Jay's pheromones. He casts a worried glance at the wounded alpha.

"Yeah." Jay lets out a quiet laugh. "Because both of you thought I'd steal your omegas."

Riki goes rigid. He puts down the console, finally registering the damage that came out of his mouth. He whips his head around, only to be met with a sharp glare from Jay.

"Jay-hyung…"

"No, let's talk about it." Jay gently pushes away Sunoo's hands that come up to comfort him, putting down the ice pack with calm fury that radiates more heat than if he had shouted. He fixes Riki with a burning glare that could've melted the ice pack.

"Let's talk about how I am always the collateral damage of your love story."

Riki gulps. Truthfully, he has never seen Jay angry. And even when he did, that anger was never directed to him. But this time, being the receiving end of such disappointed eyes, Riki wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

"Jay-hyung, you know I don't mean it like that."

"Which part? The pervert part? Because you and Heeseung surely treat me like one whenever your omegas are around," Jay says, still soft, but the venom is there. "As if I was some horny wolf waiting for the time to pounce on them. Let me ask you, Riki. What was so wrong with wanting to help you when you literally asked me for help?"

"I—I know. You're never wrong—" Riki swallows, too paralysed from how fast the situation took its bad turn. "I just…shit. I'm sorry, hyung. You're such a good alpha—"

"Am I, really? Because with you two, I never feel like one."

Riki tries to say something back, mouth gaping like fish out of water. Jay heaves out a long sigh, ruffling his already-messy hair. As if on cue, the door to his apartment opens and comes in Heeseung, whose eyes immediately widen in alarm upon sensing the tension in the living room.

"What are we fighting about?"

"About your terrible jealousy issues," Jay grits through his teeth, looking up to meet eyes with Heeseung. The latter almost flinches from how sharp his gaze is. Jay takes another deep breath.

"God, you know what? I understand jealousy. I truly do. I wouldn't want any alpha near my omega too. But that would be any alpha but you two. Because I trust you. I trust you so much and it actually," Jay halts for a moment, realising how intense his emotions have been running. But the reassuring pat from Sunoo serves as his motivation.

He needs to say this. He needs to. Otherwise he'd drown in undeserving guilt and shrink himself again.

"It actually hurts when you guys don't feel the same about me."

The tension thickens it could be cut with a knife. Riki's expression crumples, the alpha who's usually prideful and cocky is now in shambles upon seeing his older alpha breaking down like this. Heeseung fails to find any words, the guilt is lodged in his throat that barely any voice would come out, blocking any syllables from being spoken.

"I just wanted to help. My kindness has no underlying meanings. I didn't offer to help because I wanted to have your omega in bed, Riki. I was thinking about you. I was thinking how I could stop you from crying because you were my friend first and it—it hurt to see you cry so much like that."

Jay is still soft. His voice is still gentle, and that's what makes this whole situation uglier. That's what makes the guilt press harder. Both alphas in question could only stare at their feet, reflecting on their actions towards Jay.

"And you, Heeseung. Would you rather have your mate get soaked that night?" Jay doesn't let him answer. "I don't think you would. I couldn't just leave knowing she'd get drenched in the rain, knowing how much my friend cherishes her and would freak out if she got sick."

Heeseung purses his lips. He was so busy mending what was broken with his omega that he didn't realise how much he's been hurting his friend.

The apartment is silent, save for the PlayStation menu playing its music on loop. Riki can't bring himself to look at Jay, perfectly fine with tucking his chin low and hiidng his shame. Heeseung still has a hand on the doorknob, the metal feels cold on his slippery palm.

"Jay-ah…"

"I'll be in my room. I want to be alone for a moment."

The anger has long left his body. All he feels now is exhaustion and relief, like finally putting back a heavy backpack he's been carrying for months.

The three watch as Jay disappears behind the door of his master bedroom. It closes with a gentle click, as if even in anger and disappointment, Jay wouldn't ever be harsh to his friends. Heeseung and Riki immediately let out a breath they didn't know they were holding while Sunoo watches them with amusement.

"It took him a lot of courage to say that, you know." Sunoo takes a seat on the couch, grabbing the console that was left untouched by Riki. "You guys better apologise and make up to him properly."

"I am such an asshole," Riki whines and drapes his body across the couch, letting his head fall into Sunoo's lap despite his protest. "Hyung was right. It's all about trust. And I was acting like an insecure dog."

Sunoo snorts. "You're a big puppy, Riki."

Heeseung is still quiet. The memory of the punch that almost landed on Jay's face still haunts him, even before the confrontation. He knew it needed to be talked about eventually, he just didn't expect it to be in a situation like this. But alas, Jay has been a sponge that absorbs everybody's emotions, the reliable one—it's about time that the patient alpha loses it.

Just as he's about to enter the apartment fully, the door is suddenly pushed open from behind and Heeseung gets shoved inside instead. Immediately, the smell of burnt chocolate fills the air and the insults he prepares for the intruder die on his tongue.

"Sunoo-hyung!" Jungwon barges in, a pout protruding on his lips. "Noona called me his little brother again!"

Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please protect this friendship.

Heeseung walks silently to his room, ignoring the trio alpha now fighting for Sunoo's attention. Jungwon, however, upon seeing Riki, immediately scowls at the younger. His pout disappears and his complaints die in his throat.

"YOU! Nishimura Riki. You're not cheating, aren't you?"

Riki blinks confusedly.

"Cheating? In FIFA or PUBG?"

"On your girlfriend!"

"Fuck, no!" The blond-haired alpha sits up, taking full offence from the sudden accusation. "I would jump off the cliff first before I'd ever dare cheat on my lovely mate. What the fuck are you on? You know I'm loyal as fuck."

Sunoo pinches his arm. "That's too many curse words, Riki."

Jungwon shakes his head. He pushes the younger off the couch and claims his previous spot, laying his head comfortably on Sunoo's lap. The scandalised look on Riki's face hasn't faded, the alpha is still glaring at Jungwon like he has offended Riki's ancestors.

"Nothing. There was just this omega yelling about getting cheated on during last Friday's party."

"And? What does that have to do with me?"

"The cheater's name is also Riki! You don't know how disappointed and heartbroken I was for those three seconds when I thought it was Nishimura Riki. It turned out to be Hirota Riki," Jungwon nudges Sunoo's hand, urging the older to pat his head. He's still heartbroken, please comfort him, thank you. "I was so close to committing a murder on you that night."

With that explanation, a look of understanding passes Riki's face. He slumps and sprawls on the floor, relief bleeding out of his muscle.

"Oh. That's Maki. Riki C. He's the disgraceful Riki. I don't fuck with him. Not anymore."

"You better not!" Jungwon hisses at him like an angry kitten.

"Wait, so you're Riki B?" Sunoo tilts his head. One of his hands is playing with Jungwon's hair. "Then who is Riki A?"

"The other Riki is Taki, and no, I am Riki D, because this dick—"

"Nishimura Riki!" Sunoo and Jungwon simultaneously yell, drawing out a cheeky laugh from the youngest.

From inside his room, Heeseung could hear the commotion. He shakes his head. Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please save Nishimura Riki.

Living with your parents has been as peaceful as it can get. Nothing much can be said, considering that it has only been a week.

For the time being, you manage to get your mom off your back about meeting this handsome alpha that she'd like to have as a son-in-law. You hide behind the excuse of being busy with the fashion week, which is not totally a lie.

Fashion week is one of the biggest assessments there is. It means two months of outsourcing high-quality fabrics, sketching and crumpling papers and sketching, hours spent in the studio, finding suitable models for your runway and, the most important part: piecing your imagination and hardwork into a clothing worth wearing and parading.

Which is why you're spending your time in the studio on a Saturday, leisurely going over your sketches again as you wait for your fabrics to arrive. It had been preordered a month ago and the delivery was scheduled today. Precisely, two hours ago.

But you try not to worry. It's only 12 p.m., and there's probably traffic on the road since the working civilians are supposed to be having lunch now. But one hour turns into two. Then another one passes.

Before you know it, it's almost five in the evening, yet there's no sight of a truck or even a ring from the company itself. By the time you dial their office number, you have already done a cherry set on your nails, tidied up the space to accommodate your resources, and even sketched a whole damn new collection.

"Hello, this is The Nakakita. How may I help you?"

The Nakakita. A Japanaese establishment that is owned by the Nakakita family. You wouldn't have gotten in touch with such a prestigious supplier of the Japanese fabric materials had it not been for your cheating ex's connection in the fashion industry.

Maki is all things, and resourceful is one of them.

"Good evening. I'm Y/N. There's supposed to be a delivery for order #1284 today to my studio. Japanese denim, linen cotton, blended silk?"

Well, you might have sounded too demanding. But that's the least of your concern now.

"Oh, Miss Y/N. I'm terribly sorry, but this order was cancelled."

If your jaw could drop down to the ground right now, it would cause a huge-scale earthquake across the city.

"What? I never cancelled it, though?"

There is a sound of clicking on the keyboard from the end of the line. "Um…it was cancelled by the account holder two weeks ago. By Mr. Hirota Riki, approved by the heir himself, Mr. Nakakita Yuma."

What the actual fuck. Two weeks ago was when Maki had confronted you about the rumour spreading about his infidelity. Despite feeling a bit intimidated (not that you'd ever admit), you did no such thing and let his reputation continue to get tarnished. You still firmly believe that he did cheat and whatever manipulation he pulled on you was just an attempt at making you feel miserable.

Not only is his ego as big as he is and a gaslighter, but he is petty, too?!

You let out a disbelieving scoff. Oh my Goddess…That alpha is really something else. As if shattering your dream of having a mate wasn't enough, now he wants to interfere with your career path as well?

What a fucking weirdo.

"So, what happened to all those fabrics? I already paid for the deposit."

"Based on this record, it has been delivered to Miss Kim Areum three days ago and your money is in the process of being refunded back to your bank account."

And as if all of those things weren't enough to pull you under, Maki just has to deliver the final blow to the most sensitive part of your heart.

Of course he'd give those resources to his new girlfriend. Of fucking course.

It's like a cellotape on skin. Peeling it off would sting, taking away your body hair that gives you heat, and leaving sticky residue that wouldn't come off easily. Your relationship with Maki—during and after the breakup—has always left you with this hollow, sinking feeling that weighs heavy on your shoulders.

No matter what you did, if the relationship has ended or not, it'll always leave burn marks that you have been trying so hard to heal. And whether the world has moved on or not, it's always you bearing the ugly aftermath.

"…Miss?"

"I see," you finally speak, voice hoarse from suppressed anger. "Let Yuma know that my attorney will be in contact with your team soon."

"Wait—"

Not letting them finish, you end the call and toss your phone on the couch. Your perfectly blowed hair is now disheveled, untamed by your fingers as you pace the room. There's unshed tears hanging low on your waterline, waiting for the time to fall down, yet you still refuse to give in.

"Fuck!"

It's so unfair. It's so fucking unfair. It wasn't you who left, nor was it you who cheated and being disloyal—yet you are the one who have to pay the price for his crumpling ego? And now he's putting your hard-earned place in the fashion school on the line?

What a fucking manchild.

"What am I supposed to do? Goddess, help me—what am I supposed to do?"

You sink into the couch, the tears now slide down your cheeks with no restraints. There's a choked sob coming out of your throat, your scent souring with every hiccup slipping past your lips.

Time is not a luxury that you can afford now. Confronting Maki would only mess with your head more and result in nothing. You'd love to find a way to sue The Nakakita, but that's a matter that you'd like to solve after the fashion week ends.

Fuck. You barely have two months on your hands, yet you have just lost your resources that you have ordered a month ago. Finding a new supplier would be tough—since not many of them would take indiviual customers due to economies of scale. You are no wholesaler or retailer; catering to you would be expensive for them.

But you have to find a way somehow.

With a shaky hand, you tuck your hair behind your ears and grab your laptop. The tears are uncontrollable at this point, but it's not a sign to give up or stop. Your dainty fingers start typing fast on the keyboard, trying to search for any textile businesses that would make some space for you.

This is not how you imagine your evening would end. You had pictured measuring and cutting fabric pieces to fit your six-piece collection, getting prepared to start assembling them and fitting your models.

Yet here you are, giving calls after calls, accepting rejection after rejection from every business you try to contact. It's exhausting, the tears are now just cracked vulnerbaility on your cheeks. Somewhere along the way, you have accidentally snapped your manicured nails while typing.

"I'm sorry, you have to place an order three months prior in order to secure the fabrics."

This is the sixth one.

You barely hold back a sigh. "I see. Thank you for your time."

You slam your phone on the couch and start rubbing your face. This is hell. You're sure a truck had hit you somewhere on the road and this is your hell, punishing you for being such a bitchy omega to everyone around you.

But how could you not be one when everybody always gives you a reason to protect yourself?

Taking in a shuddering breath, you open your bleary eyes and stare at another line of name on the screen.

Sinar Textile.

It's operating until 8 p.m., which is unusual for many companies. Talking about the time, your stomach growls on instinct, as if reminding you of the skipped lunch and forgotten dinner that you are yet to acknowledge.

"This is the last one," you whisper to yourself. "If this too fails, I will fucking kill Maki."

You punch the number on your phone screen, exhaustion clinging to every movement. It's inhumane to sabotage someone like this; you wonder if you can sue Maki too somehow. He deserves it more than anyone in this world.

It takes five rings before the call gets picked up. A cheery voice greets you.

"Good evening! I am Jake from Sinar Textile. How can I help you?"

You rub your temple, appreciating the friendly tone while it lasts before you start threatening this poor Jake to agree to your proposal.

"Hi. I'm Y/N. I'm looking for a few bolts of fabric for my upcoming collection."

A rustle is heard from Jake's side. "Hello, Miss Y/N. When do you need the fabrics?"

You tap your fingers on your thigh. "Two weeks from now."

There's a few seconds of silence before Jake speaks again. "Are you a wholesaler or a retailer?"

I fucking knew it. "Um," you gnaw at your bottom lip, nerves grating your edges. "Neither. I'm in fashion school, and I need them for my fashion week."

Please. Please accept me. Please take my request. Oh Goddess, this is the least you can do for justice.

But unfortunately, Jake is not your Goddess. "I am sorry, Miss Y/N, but our business strictly provides for wholesaling and retailing establishments only. As for indivi—"

"Please," you let out before you could stop yourself. "I'll take scraps or leftovers. Or even any cancelled order. I'll take anything but please don't turn me down."

You are never one to beg. Especially not to alphas. And while you're not sure about Jake's secondary gender, he's still a man and it still feels humiliating to beg.

But you don't have many choices now, do you? You care more about your degree than your dignity as of now.

The hesitance in Jake's silence is loud. "Miss Y/N, I am a mere part-timer here. I'm afraid I don't have the power to decide."

"Then let me talk to the person in charge, please."

You feel bad for Jake for putting him in a tough spot like this. But to be fair, he's receiving your kindest energy now—since you've lashed out on many other receptionists prior to this call, when you were still brimming with anger.

"Please wait a moment."

You inhale sharply. Is this really happening?

It doesn't take long before a feminine voice takes over the call. "Hello. You're speaking to the CEO of Sinar Textile. I am Mrs. Park."

You straighten up. "H-Hello, Mrs. Park. I apologise for the late disturbance."

The woman hums. "It is not a big deal. My receptionist has told me about your situation. Unfortunately, we do not supply for individuals like you."

The hope blooming in your chest deflates instantly. You close your eyes as you gather your composure.

"I—Please, ma'am. I don't know how to tell you that I desperately need them for my fashion week." For a strange reason, you feel yhe need to give her context. You're no careless student who forgot to book her supplier until last minute—you just got sabotaged. "My supplier terminated our agreement after my…ex-boyfriend intervened."

The woman seems to consider this, as her next words give you a sliver of hopium. "Please email me your sketches. Then I will consider. What's your name again, Miss?"

"Y/N. I am Y/N."

"Y/N?" She repeats, and if you tried to listen hard enough, you'd be able to detect the hint of recognition in her tone. "Great, Miss Y/N. Email me at [email protected], then I will let you know my decision."

Relief floods your senses like a tidal wave. With trembling lips, you try to piece your words together.

"Thank you, Mrs. Park. I—I'll take anything. Leftovers—or any defects. I can do it. Please consider my request."

"No worries, Miss Y/N. I'll get back to you the soonest tomorrow."

And with that, the call ends. You slump in your seat.

You could've gotten the details of their wholesale customers and buy from them, but from experience, you knew that getting the materials directly from the sources is hundreds time better in terms of quality and the price. And you have reports to submit much later on, where your budgeting would be questioned like you just laundered the national income.

Later that night, you arrive home with this aching need to be comforted. Instead of a pile of all the soothing scents you've encountered in your life, you open the door to your empty bed, void of any nest. Your mom's bedroom is just one door away, but it's too late to ask for cuddles, isn't it?

You open your wardrobe, staring at the empty spot where your nesting blankets used to be.

"It's just a nest," you convince yourself. "I'll feel better after waking up."

Completely ignoring the twisting pain in your gut, you settle yourself under the cover after washing up.

Sundays are fun days, and this time, your kind of fun is rushing your chauffeur to take you to your studio and threatening him into disregarding every traffic rule he's ever learned about.

"Miss, the light is red."

"I don't care."

"We will get fined."

"I will pay," you urge.

The chauffeur closes his eyes. "Please don't tell your mother."

And that's how a fifteen-minute drive could be cut into ten minutes of ride only. Your thanks barely leaves your lips as you rushes out, trying your best to look put-together while also lightly sprinting to the private studio that you've rented since your first year, located inside the university compound.

This morning, you woke up to an email from Sinar Textile. Mrs. Park, bless her heart—seems so taken with your sketches and has decided to give you some leftovers of their previous arriving batch from Japan. It's like the Goddess has finally taken pity on you overnight, and proving that the evil shall perish altogether (Fuck you, Maki).

You spend the entire ride mentally redesigning half your collection. Leftovers are more than enough. You'll make them work. You always do.

By the time you reach the studio, your mood has improved significantly.

There are bolts of fabric, stacked near the door to your studio. Two men wearing short-sleeved Polo stand around the stack, chatting with each other while waiting for your arrival. You waste not even a second and approach them faster.

"Good morning!" You greet them enthusiastically, so unusually you, but you're too giddy to care. "Are you from Sinar Textile?"

The shorter of the two greets you back, a puppylike smile stretching wide on his face. "Hello! You must be Miss Y/N. I'm Jake, and this is Sunghoon. We are the part-timers from Sinar Textile."

The latter bows to you. Up close, you finally notice the wolf ears nestling among his pitch-black hair. Oh, so he's a wolf hybrid. No wonder his pheromones are still strong to your nose despite the thick scent patch glued to his neck.

Well, first of all—Sinar Textile sure hires only super good-looking guys to work with them. If you weren't so into your post-breakup feelings, you might think about asking for their numbers after this.

"Nice to meet you two. Now, shall we?"

"We're waiting for Jay."

Your brow jumps at that. Who is that? "Jay? Is he supposed to be here?"

"Yeap! He went to take the last bolt of your Japanese denim—oh there he is!"

You know the saying, every good thing comes with a price? While yes, there is a price tag to every bolt of fabric tha you receive from Sinar Textile today—apparently, there is a hidden tax that you have to pay the Goddess for granting you with this opportunity after Maki's stupid stunt yesterday.

And that tax is Jay. Or more precisely, if your memory hasn't betrayed you—the pervert alpha from the frat house party a few weeks ago.

There he is indeed, walking down the hallway in a similar black Polo shirt. He's carrying a bolt of Japanese denim, but does he have to carry it on his shoulder like that? It looks so show-off-y, what with the way his biceps stretch against the sleeves, bulging muscle straining under the weight of the fabric. His face is as handsome as you remember it, and without the dim light of the porch, every cut of his face is clearer for your eyes to see now in broad daylight.

Damn it. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly good-looking?

Your smile has never dropped so fast, but it's the opposite case for the alpha, because as soon as he recognises you—you've never seen a smile light up so fast.

"Cherry?"

You could barely tone down your irritation. Who the hell is Cherry?

"Are you the other part-timer?"

Jay blinks confusedly. He glances at the clipboard in his hand, and then his eyes widen imperceptibly.

"Oh—I apologise. You're Miss Y/N, right?"

"Yes, that's me," you narrow your eyes at him. But Jay only smiles back. "And you are Jay."

His eyes shine—what the heck?—at the mention of his name. "You know my name? It's actually Park Jongseong, but you can call me Jay. It sounds better when you say it."

You try to ignore the offended gasp coming from Jake.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"I'm not!" Jay is fast to deflect, shaking his head when you only stare at him thretaeningly. "I just—I think—I just want to…talk to you?"

Jake and Sunghoon wince from sheer awkwardness.

"Aren't you here for Sinar Textile?"

"Yes."

"Then we're here strictly for business. I am going to open my door and you three will carry the bolts inside, and then you leave. Understand?"

If Jay were to have wolf ears like Sunghoon, they'd droop like wilting flowers from your tone alone. "I understand," he gives in, then shoots a serious look at two of his friends behind you.

"Boys, let's get moving!"

Jake springs up with a salute. "Aye aye, captain!"

You sigh and unlock the door to give way to them. The three boys lift two bolts at the same time, marching in like soldiers ready for the battlefield. Jay stops briefly in front of you, and you prepare another scolding if he tried to say something absurd again.

"Where would you like these?"

You almost falter by the unexpected, but you don't let it show. "At that corner. I tidied up that space for these bolts yesterday."

Jay nods and wordlessly steps further inside. You watch as the three men move effortlessly together, avoiding mannequins and putting down the bolts gently like true experts. They seem close, judging by how at ease they are with each other. Probably just three best friends working part-time together to kill the time while gaining extra pocket money.

Jake, being the first one to reach the corner, claps his hands and looks around. There's amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Wow, this is my first time at the fashion building and I already got to be in a private studio."

You quirk up an eyebrow. "Are you from around here?"

There's a surprised chuckle from the beta. He slaps a hand on Sunghoon's shoulder, but the wolf hybrid barely budges.

"Yeah, we attend this university too! I am from engineering, Sunghoon is from law school, and Jay is from the business department—obviously, if he wants to inherit this company."

Your curiousity is growing like a moving snowball. "Inherit…?"

"Sinar Textile is owned by his parents. He's just doing this on the weekend when he's got nothing to do with his basketball team," Jake casually says like he didn't just drop the bombest bomb you've heard the entire week.

That says a lot, considering The Nakakita incident yesterday.

And—What?! Sinar Textile is—what—so Mrs. Park is his mother?

You are left with no words. Not that you could muster anything, when said guy is already speaking. "Stop referring to me like I'm not in the same room as you."

Jake pouts at that. "Well, you're busy with your clipboard, so why not?"

"I am counting the inventory and preparing the invoice for Miss Y/N," Jay smoothly says, while he's scribbling something on the clipboard. You ignore the efficient way his hand moves, the veins popping on his forearms, and the pout he makes when he's focusing.

When he chances you a glance, you scowl back at him. The alpha only smiles.

It's so irritating. Why does he keep smiling?

"Alright boys, get back to the van. I'll follow you after I'm done with the invoice."

"Stop bossing me around! We are the same age!" Jake protests.

"Well, technically, I am your boss."

"A boss baby! You are not even the CEO yet!"

Sunghoon only sighs and drags Jake by the arm to follow him. He stops momentarily in front of you, gives you a short bow and a 'thanks'—that you reply back with a 'thanks' too, what the heck?—before he leaves with the beta. Jake waves his hand at you, his previous pout melting into a wide grin.

"See you again, Miss Y/N!!! Please invite me to your fashion week!"

If it weren't for Sunghoon's tail and wolf ears, you'd think that Jake was the hybrid. Probably golden retriever—that seems to suit him more.

It's only when Jay clears his throat that you're reminded you're left alone with him in this studio. Instinctively, you back into the door, putting more distance between the two of you. Jay doesn't seem to mind or take offence, he just gives you that easy smile that's been putting you on edge since fifteen minutes ago.

"Two bolts for Japanese denim, linen cotton, and blended silk each. This is your invoice. You may make the first payment when we send you an email," Jay speaks, his tone professional, as he hands you a piece of paper the size of A4. "Please sign here."

You take the pen painfully slowly, trying to avoid any physical contact, and sign.

"If you need anything more, please feel free to contact me." You glare at him. "Or any of us, really! But don't hesitate—my mom told me to put you on our priority list."

There he goes again. Typical alpha trying to flirt his way into your pants. As if you had forgotten about his perverted gaze a few weeks ago!

You cross your arms and dare to look into his eyes. "Thank you. I will contact Jake."

Jay purses his lips. "That's great. Jake works every Saturday and Sunday, while Sunghoon works after 3 p.m. on weekdays. Please feel free to reach out."

He opens his mouth, seemingly to add something, but decides against it when he smiles instead.

"It's actually nice to see you again," he mutters almost quietly, his tone soft and delicate, the grip of professionalism loosening. "I've been hoping I could run into you again."

But you're not easily swayed by sweet-faced alphas like him. "So you can, what, stare at my chest again?"

Jay's ears perk and blush a deep shade of pink. "What? No! Y/N—" he shakes his head, eyes pleading. "I really meant it when I said that I didn't mean to! I swear I'm not a pervert. Please forgive me."

"But you still stared."

"I…did." His voice becomes quieter, the confession feels like cold air hanging in the studio.

Jay shifts in place. The way you stare at him all cold and menacingly seems to undo him more than anything. From where he stands, he can catch a whiff of your scent—the sweet cherry that's been haunting him since that night.

You're so pretty even when you're mad, glaring at him like some kind of a criminal like this. A sight that he's not used to, because people often look at him like an angel sent from the Goddess as an apology on behalf of the alpha population.

"Y/N," he begins, already making up his mind. Your name falls easily from his lips now that he finally gets the chance to know it. "I would like to apologise. I made you feel uncomfortable twice, and probably unsafe, too. I deserved to get beaten more than what you did that night."

"Yeah, I should poke your eyes for good measure. Making sure your eyes don't stare at omegas like that again."

"I don't do that with other omegas, though. Only with you."

"So, congratulations? I'm your first victim?"

Jay panics. "No!"

"Your favourite victim?"

"No!"

"Your exclusive victim?"

"Please stop saying victim."

"Then stop staring at my boobs. You're doing it again." The corner of your lips lifts when the crimson on his ears deepens. Okay. It's kind of fun teasing him, and truthfully, you're no longer that upset from his behaviour that night.

"No, I'm sorry," Jay dips his head lower, staring at his feet, not catching your intention. "It's very wrong of me. I sincerely apologise. Please forgive me."

Your heart does something strange. The sincerity in his voice is unlike any other you've heard from not even a single alpha before. It's raw with honesty and vulnerability, like he actually spends every night dwelling on this mistake of a first impression he had made of himself.

But you say nothing. You simply stare at the alpha whose eyes are remorsely fixed on the ground.

"I know you probably don't trust me."

You snort. "Obviously."

"But I hope one day you'll feel safe around me."

There it goes again—your heart, lurching like Jay was a K-drama main lead saying something corny to win the heroine over. But this is not fiction, and Jay is not your alpha, nor are you his omega.

"Are you threatening me with a next time?"

He shifts again. "May I earn another first impression someday?"

You almost scoff at that. You wish there's no next time or someday! ...Though, you admit, if you put aside the two—or three if you count just now—times he stared at your boobs, it has been quite alright to talk to him.

He just has this aura that puts people at ease around him. Maybe it's his face, or the citrusy scent coming from him that easily tops every other masculine pheromones you have ever sniffed, but Jay just has a way with words that makes you feel like old acquaintances.

Whatever. A pervert is still a pervert!

"Actually, my family has chosen an alpha for me."

Jay's smile falters. "Oh."

You lift your chin proudly. "Yeah! Apparently his family is very wealthy, and he's ridiculously handsome too."

Jay only blinks at you, taking every hint of rejection like a champ. "I see. I mean—that's what you deserve. An omega like you doesn't deserve anything less than that."

Your eye twitches. Why is he so damn good with words? You can't tell if it's genuinelt who he is or if it's all performative. And that infuriates you.

With a newfound determination to flaunt an unknown alpha, you triumphantly nod. "And everyone says that he's the most perfect gentleman. My mom said that he's—" How was he again? "—Very capable and hardworking. I can't wait to marry him!"

Now, you're pushing it. You don't want to marry that alpha. Hell, you're just about to accept the dinner invitation after this!

"That's good…" Jay scratches his cheek. Damn it. Jay realises that you're really trying hard to reject him, even when he hasn't said explicitly that he likes you.

But Jay is a man who can take a hint.

"That's quite a reputation. I really hope he treats you well."

"He will."

Jay purses his lips, trying to swallow down his disappointment. Of course. A pretty omega like you is rarely ever single or unclaimed, even though he doesn't see any mark on your nape or sense any alpha presence around your scent.

Sigh. Just as he finally found an omega that he genuinely likes.

"I wish you and your alpha the best, Miss Y/N." Jay lowers himself to a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for trusting Sinar Textile, and I'm sorry again."

And with that, Jay takes his leave, until the echo of his footsteps fades into oblivion. Once you're confident that you're out of his earshot, you instantly fish for your phone and call your mother.

"Mom!"

"Hello darling~ Did everything go well with the shipment?"

You bite your nails. "Yes, yes it did. Mom, I need your help."

"What is it, sweetheart? Have you finally decided to buy that new handbag from Bonia?"

"No, Mom. I think," you close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly. Truly, there's no one else that puts you in worst case scenarios but yourself and your life decisions.

"I think I'm ready to meet that alpha that you like so much."

As expected, your mother squeals into the phone and you have to force your phone away from your ears.

Great.

Now you have to mentally prepare yourself to sit with an alpha boasting about his wealth and alpha-ic achievements for approximately two hours.

All because you wanted to avoid Jay.

Or so you thought.

Of course, fate—the little evil author that it is—decides that humiliation ritual would be the perfect trope for your failing love life.

Because why the hell are you seeing Jay coming out of the black Mercedes now parked in your mansion?!

"Mom!" You whisper-yell, already halfway bolting upstairs when you see him and his parents start walking towards the door of your house. "You said that the alpha's name was Park Jongseong!"

Your mom, who's been gushing over how handsome and perfect Jay is for you from behind the curtain where the both of you are spying on the newly-arrived guests, only nudges your shoulder gently.

"He is Park Jongseong. And those are Mr. and Mrs. Park."

"No! That's—that's Jay!"

Your mom coos, fanning her face dramatically and turning to your father. "Oh my, honey, did you hear that? They're already on nickname terms with each other."

You feel like climbing the stairs and purposely falling and rolling down to the ground.

This cannot be real!

"Wait," your mother suddenly stops her dramatic gesture. She fixes you with a curious gaze, eyes squinting suspiciously.

"How do you know him?"

Maybe jumping would be faster and easier.

On the other side of the door, Jay has been fiddling with the collar of his suit for the tenth time. Beside him, Mrs. Park is frowning, swatting at his hand when he reaches for his tie again.

"Why are you fixing your tie again? It already looks perfect."

Jay swallows. "I don't know."

No, he actually knows why. Jay has never been able to lie truthfully—an irony that always amuses his friends. His body is vibrating with never-ending nerves ever since he had reluctantly agreed to his mother's planned family dinner with the omega she has taken a liking too.

Yeap. To put it simply, Jay is nervous.

And his mother catches it, if the soothing accent of her scent is telling something. "You'll like her," she convinces. Then, as if it was an afterthought, she adds, "You already met her."

If Jay was shocked, he didn't let it show.

Well, it doesn't matter, does it? When his wolf and himself have been so captivated by you.

Whoever this omega is, Jay wants to apologise in advance. He thinks he needs a couple of months to properly move on from the wonder of you before he'll be ready to accept any dating arrangement again.

"If you're confident that I'll like her, then I hope she's the person I have on my mind, Mom."

And that is the truth. If he had already met this omega and his mother's instincts are sure that he'd fall for her—then it can't be no one else but you.

Jay had crossed paths with many omegas. He had been flirted with, pursued, and even outright confessed to more times than he could count, yet no one had occupied his thoughts quite like you.

And to think that you're spending your time with another alpha…

Jay swallows down the bitterness and forces his pheromones to calm down.

Too lost in his frantic, chaotic mind, Jay hasn't realised that he's already standing in front of the door. It swings open before any of them could press the doorbell, revealing a beautiful couple and…

"Cherry?"

His cherry.

When the scowl appears on your face, Jay feels like a diver finally coming up to the surface for air. The nerves that have been jagging every edge vanish almost instantly, now replaced with a relief so profound it feels like being given a second chance at life again.

It's really. Really. You.

"It's Y/N, you dummy."

That hostile gaze. That frown and unfriendly tone.

It's really you.

The smile that spreads across Jay's face is so hopelessly fond that Mrs. Park immediately knows she doesn't have to do any matchmaking tonight. Your frown deepens, hating the blatant display of joy that's coming from him.

What is he so giddy about?!

Meanwhile, your mother is completely oblivious to the glare you're shooting at him.

"I told you, they're already using endearments for each other!"

You hope the ground could swallow you.

Jay hopes the ground could move and bring him closer to you.

part two coming soon <3

divider from @/cursed-carmine

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula @sugarcwtie @whiskymiller

the slots on the changeroom locker will likely leave a mark on your cheek, but you don’t care right now as sunghoon’s hips snaps against the curve of your ass, plunging deeper with each thrust. you waited until the last of his teammates left before sneaking inside to congratulate your boyfriend on winning the game. he’s been keeping your head pinned against the metal surface but as your high-pitched cries of pleasure grow louder, his hand shifts to cover your mouth instead.

he laughs to himself, before punctuating his next thrust with a groan, holding himself flush against your ass as he grinds his cock into your cervix. you’re taking it, pushing back against him, whimpering into his palm like you can’t get enough of this shit, no matter how rough he is with you. it’s intoxicating, feeding his already inflated ego.

he’s close already and it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t account for the fact that his girlfriend has the sloppiest pussy he’s ever encountered. you’re sucking him in like you’ll die without, absorbing every impact like you were made for it, but he knows there’s no way it doesn’t hurt to some degree. he’s learned you like the pain. he has to hold your hips still, slamming you into the locker again and your cries get muffled against the makeshift muzzle of his hand, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

he doesn’t tell you to get on your knees, just pulls out without warning and turns you around, pushing down on your shoulders until you instinctively assume his desired position. you start babbling nonsensically, begging him not to do what he’s about to do. not because you don’t want it, but because you wanted something else. he knows you well enough by now and that’s why he denies you, because you’re so much sweeter when you have to work for what you want.

he slaps his erection across your cheek, precum smearing across your skin. the streak glistens under the fluorescent lights as he starts pumping himself over your face. you whine, but deep down you’re a good girl and his pleasure is your priority. he can’t hold on much longer when you’re just kneeling there beneath him, flushed, panting, trembling with anticipation of his release even though your own gratification has been sidelined with no promise of achieving your own release.

His illness of being separated from you for way too long.

But now? Now his clinginess only got even worse. If you were smarter, you would've been able to connect the dots—how your beloved puma hybrid kept following you around, his long, black tail swishing side to side ever since you told him you got a boyfriend. You've been dating for the past five months and he's everything you wanted—loyal, kind, faithful, funny, understanding and the list goes on.

When you broke the news to Riki, you were too deep in love, already rambling about your oh so perfect relationship to notice how he stilled. How his tail dipped immediately. How his ears flattened against his head. How his jaw clenched, tongue poking the insides of his cheek. How his eyes narrowed into silts. How he clenched his left hand into a fist that rested on his lap, hidden from your view.

Ever since that day—five months ago, Riki made it a point to cling onto you at every chance he gets. He doesn't care if you're in public. The moment you're in his sight, he has his tail wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him while subtly scenting you at the same time. As he's tall enough, it's enough to scare off anyone who's foolish enough to look your way. If that doesn't worked, he'll resort to glaring at them, which proved to be useful many, many times.

Right now, you're seated on the couch in the living room with your laptop perched on a cushion, using it as a temporary stand. Your fingers flew across the keyboard, lips unconsciously pursed in a thin line while working on your assignments. Being a university student meant you're constantly bombarded with never-ending assignments—essays, group projects, reports, tests and exams.

It got so bad to the point you haven't contacted your boyfriend for the past two weeks. You felt remorseful at first, not wanting any misunderstandings to be formed. But when your lecturers thought it was a great idea for them to throw an unreasonable amount of work to their students, the thought was washed down the drain as you threw yourself into study mode, working on them nonstop.

You were so engrossed with your current task that you remained blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Of how a certain puma hybrid was heading your way, his footsteps light and barely making any noise, like he's stalking his next prey. You finally looked down, features softening to see it's none other than Riki resting his head on your lap, eyes fixated on your face.

You reached down, brushing his dirty ash blonde hair away from his forehead, drawing a soft, pleased sigh from him. Your heart squeezed, getting a rush of cuteness aggression when he turned, rubbing his cheek against your stomach through your shirt. You knew what he wants and also knew if anything, he's extremely shy when it comes to demanding for your attention.

You being you, decides to tease him.

"Riki, do you need something?" You asked, hovering your hand in the air.

The hybrid stopped rubbing his cheek, cracking one eye open to glare at you, his thick and plump lips curling down in a pout. "You know what I want."

You hummed, plastering a fake thoughtful look on your face, well-aware of how he's watching you. "Do I? I'm not a mind reader. If you want something, you need to tell me."

Your words drew a frustrated and annoyed growl from him but you weren't fazed or afraid. You merely chuckled, wriggling your fingers in the air. "I'm waitinggggg."

He closed his eyes, seemingly sending prayers to whoever's listening before opening them. "…Can you pat me, please?"

You cooed out loud and Riki scrunched his nose, sending you death glares at the revolting noise. "You're so cute! If that's what my precious baby puma wants."

He was about to get up when you started patting his head, occasionally flicking his ears. The moment you laid your hands on him, his shoulders sagged with relief and his eyes fluttered shut. He made himself comfortable, face squashed into your stomach with his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, locking you in place while you returned to working on your assignment.

Thirty minutes of comfortable silence past and your phone started ringing, vibrating vigorously from its spot on the couch's armrest. You didn't want to wake Riki up—who had been lulled to sleep by your comforting scent and warmth, subtly stretching your arm to pick up your phone. One look at the screen made your heart dropped when you saw the contact name.

You accepted the call, bringing your phone to your right ear.

"Hello?"

"(Name), let's break up," your boyfriend said, his tone steady and firm.

Your heart stopped beating, shattering into pieces the moment you heard his words. You felt cold, like someone had dumped a pail of cold, freezing water over you. You stared ahead of you—wide eyes and tuning out your surroundings, until the only thing you can hear was the blood rushing through your ears.

"W-What? Why?" You stammered, unaware of Riki stirring to life, his ears perking up, clearly trying to eavesdrop.

A sigh. "It's no hard feelings, really. I just don't feel the same way anymore. And you've been busy lately. You didn't answer my texts or my calls. It's like you've forgotten about my existence."

"That's not—"

"And that hybrid of yours. It's clear there's something going on between the two of you, with how possessive he is," he interrupted, having no intention of hearing you out or letting you speak.

Hearing this, you stilled. Your fingers that were previously threading through Riki's hair came to an abrupt halt. Your eyes instinctively flicked down to him, breath hitching when you made eye contact and how he has been watching and listening the entire time. His eyes were now narrowed to silts. He doesn't care that he was caught red-handed, showing no ounce of remorse or shame.

But rather, he looked… smug, like he knew this will happen.

Your lack of response earned a bitter huff from your boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend, in this case. "See? This is what I meant. Forget it, there's no point trying to talk to you. We're over. Don't contact me again."

"Wait—"

He ended the call and you moved it away, staring at it like it had personally offended you. Riki took that as his cue to push himself up, stretching his arms above his head. The action made the gray hoodie he worn to be dragged up, showing off an inch of his skin and the kiss mark tattoo he got. Your eyes darted towards it without warning, only for you to look away immediately ignoring how your heart skipped a beat and heat pooling in your stomach.

"Who was that?" He asked casually and innocently, running a hand through his hair.

"My boyfriend," you chuckled, placing your phone on your side, "well, ex-boyfriend."

He frowned. "Ex?"

"Yeah, he just broke up with me, over the phone."

Riki sucked in air from his teeth, his tail neatly resting over his lap. "Oh… I'm sorry to hear that."

You shook your head, sinking further into the couch. "It's fine, I kinda deserve it."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong," he replied without missing a beat.

You glanced at him, startled by how fast and firm his response was. "Because I might have forgotten to contact him? I didn't make any efforts to call or text him."

"And? You're busy with your assignments. You don't have to bend your back for someone who's insecure," he retorted, draping an arm across the back of his couch, his hand directly behind your head.

You snorted. "He's not insecure, Riki. Don't be mean to him."

For a brief moment, the hybrid seemed like he wanted to say something but thought better of it, choosing to keep his mouth shut. He got up from the couch, the tip of his tail grazing your bare ankle—deliberately and lightly before he walked away. You remained seated on the couch, watching as he disappeared into the comfort of his own room, closing the door behind him.

What was that?

~

You noticed a slight change in Riki two weeks later.

The hybrid started spending more time in his room, only coming out when it's absolutely necessary. Heck, he didn't step out even when you announced you were leaving for your classes, leaving you utterly confused. You did knock on his door, asking him questions about his health but all you got was him telling you to go away.

If there's one thing about you, it's that you never give up.

Knock knock.

"Riki? Hello? Are you still alive?" You asked, pressing your ear against the door, trying to catch the smallest sounds.

That's when you heard it—a low, slow and warning growl. Hearing it sent shivers down your spine and you rubbed your thighs together, feeling the all-too familiar sensation of arousal blooming in your stomach.

"Go away."

The two words were said with such conviction and coldness that it rendered you speechless. Never in your life have you heard Riki growling at you, like the true puma he is. You should listen to him. Should turned around, walked away to leave him alone. Ignoring the invisible alarm bells going off in your mind, you took a deep breath, twisted the door knob and pushed it open.

The door moved aside to reveal Riki's room. The curtains were drawn closed, shutting him out from the rest of the world. Your eyes locked in on the bump on his bed. A bump that you easily identified as the owner of the room. You stepped in, wary to not step on anything that could potentially scared him or set him into fight-or-flight mode.

Once you were close enough, you sat on the edge of the bed, turning slightly so you can face him without straining your neck. You reached out, ready to pull the sheets away when he moved.

One moment you were seated and the next, you were pinned against the bed. You gasped, startled by the abrupt change of position. Both of your wrists was held over your head, held down firmly with Riki's one hand while the other was braced on the wrinkled sheets. The sight before you made your breath hitched.

Riki's face was flushed, cheeks covered in a light shade of red. His eyes turned into slits, borderline glowing and his forehead glowed in a layer of sweat, hair sticking to his face. His lips were parted, exhaling at an unsteady pace, like he had ran a marathon. This wasn't the usual Riki you're used to. Someone who always keep his cool. Someone who noticed everything about you.

"Riki, wha—!?"

You stopped when he ducked, nosing along your neck and he breathed in, deeply. You strained your ears, picking up what sounded like… purring? You felt the vibrations coursing through his body and his sharp, fluffy ears twitched.

"Your scent… it's driving me crazy," he rasped out, voice low and deep.

You swallowed, your heart hammering against your chest rapidly. "Seriously, what's wr—mmpfh!"

You didn't finish your sentence, not because your voice gave up on you. But rather, it was because of the hybrid, who captured your lips in a hot, demanding and intense kiss. Unlike your ex who takes his time, Riki was different. He kissed you harshly, further pushing you into the sheets with him fully settling his weight on you, like he wants you to blend into it.

You squeaked when he nipped at the plush, soft flesh of your lips with the sharp tip of his fangs, the searing pain striking you like a lightning bolt. He released his grip on your wrists, supporting your head with one hand on your neck while the other gripped onto your waist, his touch possessive and firm.

You could feel the warmth from his body, how he's a walking heater. The closeness of this combined with him kissing you with such desperation made you whined into his mouth. Riki groaned, swallowing the delicious sound, treating it like it's an sacred offering. The kiss deepened—him forcing you to grant him entrance and he sucked on your tongue, hard enough to make you pushed your chest up against his.

It's filthy and lewd, with spit trickling down your chin. Seeing this, Riki broke the kiss and licked it up with his rough tongue, leaving your skin feeling damp and sticky before he kissed you again, unable to get enough of your sweet, addictive taste.

"Riki—"

You moaned against his lips, arching your back off the bed as his other hand traced your silhouette, creating a map out of your body. He pushed your oversized shirt up until the hem of your bra was shown, drawing a ragged, broken moan from him, like seeing your clear, unblemished skin does something to him.

He pulled back, staring at you as he takes in the mind-blowing sight before him—your dazed eyes, your swollen, bruised and spit-covered lips and the light flush on your cheeks. Seeing you like this—all wrecked and breathless, drew a dark and pleased purr from the depth of his throat.

"So pretty for me," he breathed out, his breath fanning across your lips, savoring the way you shivered involuntarily at his words.

Riki moved down, busying himself in leaving wet and messy kisses along the expanse of your neck, ensuring to lick at your skin, able to get a faint salty taste at the tip of his tongue. He slowly lowered himself, spreading your legs apart with one hand—the action effortless and requiring close to zero strength, aligning your cores together and oh, you can feel him.

Feel his long, thick and heavy cock straining against the poor restraints of his sweatpants, begging to be freed. You swallowed, feeling your underwear sticking against your pussy at the thought of him filling you up. Riki stilled above you, his nostrils flaring before he growled, staring you down with nothing but desire written all over his face.

A loud ripping sound pierced through the bedroom. You squeaked, hands moving to cover yourself when the puma hybrid ripped your clothes with his sharp claws but he was faster, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't hide from me," he snarled.

You made a pathetic sound—a sound you didn't know you were capable of in the first place and it made the puma smirked proudly. When it's clear you're not planning to move, Riki shifted down, giving attention to your freed breasts. He wrapped his lips around your left hardened nipple, alternating between licking and sucking on it while pinching and twisting the other nipple with his free hand.

"Ngh!"

You cried out, throwing your head back as you tangled your hand through his hair while the other blindly grabbed the sheets, twisting and turning it beneath your fingers. You squirmed about on the bed, which pissed Riki off, judging from the feral snarl he let out as he held you down by your hips, his grip hard and vice-like with his claws borderline digging into your skin, hard enough for thin, red-lined marks to be imprinted.

He continued abusing your poor nipples until they were bruised red and covered in a layer of his thick spit, leaving it glistened in the dim room. Riki shifted further down until he dropped to his knees on the floor. You yelped when you were roughly yanked forward by his tail until your lower half hovered in the air. Your legs trembled as they were slung over the hybrid's firm, broad shoulders.

"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you," he murmured, nosing along your inner right thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until it turned reddish-purple.

The possessiveness in him gleamed in pride at the thought of you walking around, wearing pants or anything long to hide the marks he left behind on your body, like he's claiming, marking and branding you. Keeping you away from any potential suitors too. Riki continued his adventure until he reached where you're desperately aching for him. He blew hot air, watching with pure hunger at how your pussy throbbed.

"Sensitive already," he huffed, amused.

"P-Please.." You whimpered oh so beautifully for him, further twisting the sheets.

"Please what, doll? C'mon, be a good girl and use your words," he coaxed.

You squeezed your eyes shut, not having the courage to look at him but your action only made him clicked his tongue in disapproval.

Smack!

Your body visibly jolted, taken aback at the sudden stinging pain landing squarely on your bare pussy. Interest flickered across his face at your reaction—how you bit down on your lip and how you got even wetter. Deciding to put his theory to the test, he did it again. Not once. Not twice. But thrice, back-to-back.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Your body trembled like a taut wire, clenching down on nothing as violent shockwaves traversed through you from head to toe. Riki, on the other hand, paused. His mind spun, reeling from what just happened. He didn't give you time to regain your composure, dragging his left index finger along your puffy, soaked folds, making you whimpered from the sensitivity.

"Fuck, you came just like that?" He murmured, in awe.

"W-Wha.."

You mumbled blearily, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, already exhausted. The only form of warning you got was the puma hybrid inching closer until something rough, hot and flat licked a stripe up, from your clit to entrance. You screamed, the sound high and loud that you're certain your neighbors will launch a noise complaint soon.

The thought left your mind as quickly as it formed when Riki moaned, his face buried between your legs. He ate you out messily and sloppily, paying special attention to your clit peeking out. Your body twitched, nearly yanking the sheets freed when he circled it with the tip of his tongue, the sensation driving you up the wall.

Your legs trembled in the air but you couldn't closed them, not when they were hoisted on his strong, muscular shoulders. You hooked your ankles around his neck, tugging him closer and let out a wonton moan when the tip of his nose pokes your clit. He didn't care, pushing further and further in, like he wants to be suffocated between your legs, tasting your sweet, addictive slick on his tongue.

"F-Fuck, so—hngh, good," you panted, back arching off the bed as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on it. The suction was enough for your stomach to tighten, about to cum again, only for him to pull away, letting your clit fall limp against your pussy, all sore and red.

You watched with your head laying on the sheets, chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath as Riki rose to his full height, gently dropping your legs down onto the solid floor. He didn't look away, locking eyes with you while he stripped, starting with the white, tight tank top that does nothing to hide his arm muscles. Once it was gone, his toned and tattooed chest was revealed. Your hands twitched, tempted to trace your hand over it.

He smirked, catching your reaction and hooked his fingers through the hem of his sweatpants that's hanging dangerously low around his hips. He shoved it down, his black Chrome Heart boxers falling as well until its brunched around his ankles. His cock sprung free from the restraints, proudly standing upright, thick, long and veiny.

Your breath stuttered, unable to tear your eyes away from it. Hybrids isn't built very different from humans but despite that, he's… huge. Probably bigger than anyone you've slept with, which was just one person—your ex-boyfriend. The fat, mushroomy tip had turned a ferocious shade of reddish-purple, practically screaming for attention. A fat, thick bead of precum rested on the slit and Riki wrapped a hand around himself, thumb pressing down on the slit.

"Fuck…"

He cursed, eyes fluttering shut and he threw his head back as he fisted his own cock, forming a tight circle with his hand, fucking into it without any shame. You watched from where you were—still laying on the sheets with wide, unblinking eyes. Riki's fangs dug into his plump lips, his slitted eyes were squeezed shut, ears flattened against his head and his tail swished side to side frantically.

You chewed on your bottom lip, snaking your hand down between your breasts, down your stomach and to your pussy. However, before you could reached your destination, Riki let out a feral, hostile and beast-like snarl. He surged forward, grabbing your wrist, holding it in place with a vice-like grip, tight enough to draw a wince from you.

"Don't touch yourself. If you do, you can't cum," he warned you.

His firm words and authoritative tone made you whimpered, feeling unusually small—him as the predator and you as his prey that he managed to catch. Riki shifted, climbing onto the bed and he forced you to shift upward a little. The hybrid crawled forward on his knees, a hand now loosely wrapped around the base of his cock.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head backward. You knew what his intentions was, obediently opening your mouth and let him pushed his cock in. The hybrid purred in pleasure, feeling how tight and warm your cavern was. You made a muffled gagging sound, tears brimming in your eyes at his tip hitting the back of your throat.

He's big and thick, forcing you to further slacken your jaw muscles while covering your teeth with your lips, not wanting to injure him. You had to resort to breathing through your nose, savoring the heavy weight of his cock resting on your tongue. Riki cupped your left cheek, thumb gingerly wiping away the singular tear droplet that slipped, action all sickeningly sweet and oh so mean at the same time.

"Look at you, so pretty and wrecked for me. You're taking me well, aren't you?" He cooed, voice lowering an octave lower.

It's obvious you can't speak, not when your mouth was stuffed full of his cock, which is the reason why he used that condescending and belittling tone with you. Riki smirked, pushing forward a little, picking up the strangled moan you let out and how your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You let him used you like a toy as he fucked your throat, pushing in and out of your mouth at a slow, lazy and borderline teasing pace.

You did your best—tracing the protruding veins with your tongue and hollowed your cheeks for better suction. But god, he's too big. And judging from the knowing, dark glint in his eyes, Riki can tell you're struggling. Which was why he made a faux sweet coo, using his free hand to clasp it around your neck and gave it a light squeeze.

It's not enough to completely cut off your oxygen supply. You knew he wouldn't kill you, not with how smitten he is with you but it's the implication of it. The thought of him possessing both the capability and talent to snap your neck into half, to kill you immediately, made you even wetter, if that's possible.

Riki's eyes darted down, hissing under his breath at the large, dark stains beneath you. "You're one messy and needy slut, aren't you? Can't be satisfied even with your mouth full?"

"Mmpfh."

The hybrid groaned, mouth dropping open at the vibrations running down the length of his cock. "Shit, c-close."

He pulled you closer until his entire cock is in your mouth, your nose rubbing against his bare stomach. You gagged as he cum, painting it in the shade of his thick, hot cum. The hybrid groaned, releasing his grip from your hair and pulled his cock out of your swollen, sore mouth with a loud "pop" sound.

"Swallow it," he demanded, gripping your chin and you obeyed, even opening your mouth to let him see.

He purred, satisfied and tapped your right cheek twice. "Good girl. You deserve a reward, don't you?"

You sniffled, frantically and eagerly nodding. "P-Please.. I've been good."

He chuckled, flipping your position with him now laying on the bed, head on one of his pillows. You squeaked when you ended up on his lap, hands braced on his bare chest, soaking his toned stomach with your slick. Riki patted your thigh, dark eyes drinking in your naked figure shamelessly.

"Come up," he instructed, doing the "come here" gesture with his fingers.

You gulped, complying and crawled upward with shaking knees and hands. Resting one hand on the headboard and the other on your lap, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the puma's mouth. However, you were being too slow, earning an impatient growl from him.

"Riki!"

You cried out when he yanked you down, making you sit squarely on his face. He parted your folds with his left fingers—index and middle, plunging his long, rough and slimey tongue into your gaping entrance, tracing it along the walls and occasionally twisting it. A series of moans and whimpers left your lips at his relentless assault on your poor pussy.

It didn't help that you're still sensitive, which only further heightened the toe-curling sensations. Riki alternated between sucking and licking, like a famished beast that hasn't feasted for three months. He ate you out messily, spit trickling down his chin. You grinded your hips against his skillful tongue, moaning out loud as he pushed two fingers in, pumping them in and out of you.

The double penetration of his fingers and tongue made you further grind into his mouth, craving more. He purred, drunk on the taste of your slick and his tail snugly wrapped itself around your waist, the tip grazing your still-sensitive nipples, drawing a strangled, broken cry from you.

"R-Riki, c-can't.. too much, ngh," you keened, stars exploding behind your vision as he curled his fingers, easily locating that one spongy spot that made your thighs trembled vigorously.

"You can take it, baby," he moaned, voice muffled, tongue gliding along the seam of your folds.

You sobbed, the final straw comes with him sucking on your beyond clit and you cum with a soundless cry, mouth dropping open in an "O" shape, violent shockwaves coursing through your body. You weren't aware you even squirted—transparent, warm liquid gushing everywhere, landing on your sweaty, tangled bodies and the sheets.

Riki groaned, tongue lapping up what you have to offer, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, ignoring how you squirmed and thrashed about, pussy weakly squirting a few more times before you went limp, bracing both hands against the wall to balance yourself. The hybrid finally detached his lips from you, the lower half of his face completely covered in your slick, practically glistening.

His ears twitched, tongue darting out to lick up your slick covering his lips, moaning at the taste. Your pussy throbbed at the lewd sight and you acted without thinking, scooting down until your cores made contact. At first, Riki was confused, furrowing his eyebrows but it was replaced with realization as he watched, not bothering to help—one hand on his lap while the other is held behind his head and between the headboard.

His breath hitched, watching how you collected your dripping slick, using it as lube before stroking his cock with your slick. It didn't take long for him to fill up and thicken in your grip. He had dreamed of this—having you beneath him as he fucks you, stretching you wide open with his cock, reducing you into a flushed and moaning mess with his name being chanted like a sacred prayer.

But dreams could never come close to the real thing.

The only form of assistance you got was Riki steadying you by your hips when you swayed to the side dangerously. With you holding the base of his cock—fingers barely touching, you aligned him to your stretched-out entrance and sank down in one go.

Both of you moaned in unison at the blinding feeling. The feeling of being connected on an intimate level. The stretch was no doubt painful, enough for your vision to blur slightly. You didn't move, struggling to accommodate to the size and grith of his cock as the pain gradually subsided until it's replaced with a numbing, consistent pleasure.

Riki, on the other hand, had to restrain himself at all costs. He nearly cum right there and then the moment he slides in. His eyes locked in on the prominent bludge on your stomach—right where his cock laid and he saw red.

He acted on instinct, the instinct of a wild, feral beast—manhandling you until your face was shoved into the pillow with you on your knees, your ass raised up high as your back was arched in an seductive arch. Riki wasted no time in pounding into you from behind, his heavy balls slapping against your inner thighs, creating a series of loud "plap, plap, plap" sound that echoed among the four walls of his bedroom.

"Think that pathetic ex-boyfriend of yours can fuck you better than I can? He can't," he snarled, leaning forward to plaster his chest against your back, one hand grabbing and kneading your left breast within his palm while twisting and pinching your hardened nipple.

You wailed, unable to form a coherent sentence, with how good he's stretching you and how he's filling you up, reshaping your insides to the shape and outline of his cock. The hybrid purred, slowing down his pace as he fucked you slow and nice, ensuring to circle his hips every time he bottomed out, savoring the blissed sigh you let out.

"M-More…" You babbled, head tilted forward with drool running down your chin.

He purred, nosing along your neck as he breathed in your scent. It's mixed with different smells—sweat, your body fluids and sex. But to him, there's no perfect combination other than this.

"More?" He echoed. "You're so greedy, baby. I'm already fucking you and you still want more?"

"M-Mhm!"

"What do you want? Tell me."

Now, you weren't thinking straight anymore, too fucked out to think about anything. So it's normal for Riki to be surprised by the words that left your mouth without you processing it.

"K-Knot me, please," you begged.

Riki's tail straightened, shooting up and his ears flicked upward.

Knot. Knot. Knot.

That was the only word he captured. The only word out of your short sentence. With a deep and guttural growl, he pounded into you with newfound determination. The thought of knotting you until your stomach swells, you waddling around in the house with a swollen baby as you born his children, makes him feral.

You keened as he angled his cock slightly, the tip now hitting that one delicate, spongy spot hidden between your gummy walls. It's enough for your knees to tremble, giving way as you fell into the sheets, trapping his hand between the bed and your chest. Riki clicked his tongue, hoisting you back up with his tail that's around your waist and his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, making a temporary ponytail to hold you upright.

He continued fucking into you, quickening the pace and the sound of skin slapping against skin gets louder and louder. You couldn't register the kind of sounds you're letting out but whatever it was, it can rival against a professional pornstar. You had to support yourself with your elbows resting on the sheets as sweat rolled down your cheeks.

"Gonna knot you, pump you full so you can carry my children," he snarled, his slitted eyes locked onto the way your ass cheeks jiggled at every thrust.

You whined out loud at his words, clenching around him and it didn't go unnoticed by him. You snaked your hand between your legs, tracing your fingers around where you're connected before rubbing your clit at the same pace as his thrust.

"G-Gonna cum, hah," you whimpered, your fingers gradually getting soaked from your own slick.

Riki cursed, slapping your hand away and replaced it with his own, drawing a loud, startled cry from you. "Then cum, baby. Let me see you fall apart."

He gave a harsh twist to your engorged clit and that was it. You cum while chanting his name like a sacred prayer, your walls violently convulsing around his cock as your juices ran down the paths of your inner thighs. Riki grit his teeth, sweat landing on the sheets as he felt his knot growing bigger and bigger—a sign he's reaching his climax.

With one last, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and released his hot, thick semen inside while he fucks you through your orgasm, forcing your pussy to milk him dry. You grimace at how incredibly full and sated you felt, stomach bloated with his hybrid cum. His knot remained lodged in your cunt, reaching the entrance to your womb.

Your elbows and knees gave way for the second time as you collapsed into the sheets, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of you covered in body fluids and sweat. You thought it was finally over and that you could get a break.

However, Riki didn't have the same idea in mind.

"Ri—!?"

You made a sound when he thrusted into you from behind—his knot showing no signs of detaching itself from your womb, drawing a hoarse moan from you. You looked over your shoulder, swallowing nervously at the wild, intense look on his face. His dirty ash blonde hair was messed up, some strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. But it was his eyes that made your stomach tightened.

The lust and desire gaze, making you unconsciously clenched down on him, on his cock that's still buried deep inside you.

"We're not done yet, doll," he purred, lips curling up in a promising, dark smirk.

You gasped when he did an experimental thrust into you, creating a loud and wet squelch sound that made your ears heat up. But the embarrassment was gone when Riki pushed your head down into the sheets, rendering you immobile.

AT LONG LAST, THE CURTAINS HAVE DRAWN. what has been the better part of hours stretched across an entire day has felt like nothing but mere seconds to sunghoon. at long last, he can peel his eyes away from the glimpses of sweet heaven before him without risk of missing anything.

for the first time in hours, sunghoon can blink.

initially, it offers no effect; eyes long past dried out like they’ve been baking under a lamp. sunghoon screws them shut, watches colours explode behind his lids until he can feel tears dotting his lashes from the pressure. 

matter of fact, he hasn’t closed his eyes for so long that he could probably fall asleep within seconds, even in the position he’s in: slumped in an uncomfortable wooden chair, sat facing the window of his hotel room as neon lights flicker by. 

for a moment, he considers it. his head throbs with a migraine from how long he’s been forcing his eyes to stay wide open, and there’s no point sitting here now that things have just gotten boring. you’ve just shut him out, like a prude. a tease. suddenly caring after an entire day of paying no mind to your ajar curtains – starting at the ass crack of dawn when you pulled them back to welcome in the sunlight. 

sunghoon accepted that invitation, too.

it’s not like his attention could be anywhere other than the view of your hotel across from his – not until his body physically shuts down from exhaustion in short, pathetic bouts – but he pulled a chair from the sad excuse of a dining table and sat his ass down right in front of his window; where he’s been unmoving, unblinking, as you went about your day since. acting oblivious to the audience you’ve practically begged to flock over to you, just flaunting yourself out there for any old chump to drool over if they were so lucky to look up from the street or out of their window. 

he considered getting toothpicks to keep his eyelids pried open in those instances where his body began to nod off, until he jolted wide awake and freshly energised at the sight of you padding by the window in nothing but a towel. skin glistening, hair damp and running stray beads of water down your shoulders. 

sunghoon ran his tongue over his teeth – oh, how he wished he could lick up every last droplet from your body, suck your hair into his mouth and taste the strawberry shampoo you so famously use. 

your teasing didn’t stop there. you made it a point to keep walking by that window, just throwing yourself at sunghoon as you showed off your new matching lace underwear, then returned in a skimpy pajama set. 

who walks by one window that many fucking times as they’re getting dressed? you have to be doing it on purpose. god, you’re such a damn….flirt. 

he’s not complaining though. of course not! the fleeting sight of you each time, just innocently trotting along by the window, was enough to pull a good few orgasms out of him; even with his aching joints in this stiff fucking chair.

he’s scarcely left his room at all, which is only due to the fact that he’s mirroring you. you’ve been isolating for days on end ever since wrapping up the tour stop in this city. there was a deliberate few days separating this concert from the next one to give you some time to sightsee, make the most of a break here and take a breather from your schedules – yet you’ve done nothing but remain holed up in that hotel room ever since performing for thousands on stage.

it’s like you know it’s ‘cause he’s watching, isn’t it?

sunghoon paid good fucking money for this view. jake thought he was being smart, snagging a room only a few doors down on your floor. thought he could hear you through the walls, maybe coincidentally bump into you each time you leave. except, you haven’t left once – only room service or your staff visiting to deliver food, offer company. jake isn’t getting shit for what he dropped a whole paycheck on, and yet you’re over here prancing around half-naked for sunghoon’s eyes to feast on. 

sunghoon heaves a sigh, stretching his arms out above his head until the joints pop. aches throb in his forearms, the muscles exhausted from when he was jerking off and having back to back orgasms just staring at the view of your empty hotel room. 

it’s been good fun with you, but the time’s come for you to actually leave. tomorrow morning is your flight to the next city. you’ll be forced to go outside – much like sunghoon, as he’s forced to follow you.

he’s been neglecting his own body in favour of catching any sight of yours through the window. the last time he took care of his health was with the sole purpose of attending your concert here. 

he’ll need to present himself as a real person again. take an actual shower and wash his hair. shave the stubble off his face, maybe even tweeze his eyebrows. he wants to look good for you when you see him. because you will – as you have before. 

waving at him in the stands, blowing him a kiss at barricade, smiling at him like an old friend at the send off. each memory more cherished than the last – each instance the red string of fate grows tauter between you. 

of course, the crowd is all thinking the same thing. he’s aware of that, he’s not stupid. 

but they’re not him. they don’t know you like he does. 

can any of your other fans name the brand of perfume you spritzed on after your shower this morning? (gucci flora, naughty girl… you have a brand deal with dior!) can they count the amount of underwear sets you folded into your suitcase? (5, all pastels. you must wash them at each stop.) can any of those pathetic, delusional bottom feeders say with confidence that you opened your curtains to let them in?

yeah. 

he didn’t think so. 

—

sunghoon hates the airport. almost as much as he hates camping outside of the concert venues. everyone here is in a rush and shoving and breathing down each other’s necks. he’s been here since the early morning to secure a nice, clear view when you arrive, but he’s gradually been shoved to third from the front in the crowd that’s gathered. god, some people have no manners these days. whatever happened to fandom etiquette? they’re all here for the same person – you – but it’s like every man for himself. 

“ay, wait,” jake nudges him from the side, tilting his phone to sunghoon. “she’s just about to arrive.”

sunghoon narrows his eyes at the screen, scanning over the text messages before jake shuts it off with a mutter to mind his damn business. but sunghoon already recognised the contact name. it was your make-up artist – he’s bought bits of information off of her in the past. never got his money’s worth though, she’s really vague with promises to reveal more if you spend more. sunghoon doesn’t waste his time with that scam shit. jake being privy to live updates of your location though?

“how do you get so much out of her? she’d never tell me anything good.” sunghoon asks, tone bored as if he’s not seething with jealousy right now. 

jake pokes his tongue out, flashes suggestive eyes while giggling to himself. sunghoon nearly gags. sleeping with your staff while he claims to want you? no fucking shame… 

there’s a roar of commotion at the front, and sunghoon stands on his tip-toes for a clear view as he cranes his neck towards the entrance. someone pushes him from behind, cussing him out for being too fucking tall, but sunghoon can’t hear anything other than ringing in his ears as he recognises all your staff and security filing out through the doors. and then, there you are: just as pretty as when he last saw you through the hotel window.

sunghoon’s momentarily lifted off his feet as the crowd rippled, following after your crew while you wave and bow to all the fans gathered here in your name. sunghoon keeps losing his balance, losing sight of you as he’s pushed from all angles. people get barbaric in your presence. 

some (stupid) few from the front divert, rushing up to your staff and earning a hard shove to the ground by your security. they’re not all that competent though – a taller fan, one sunghoon recalls as riki that he camped with at your osaka concert, is able to shoulder his way through your stylists and grab your arm. he’s wrangled away by security within the next second, but the damage was done – they can actually get to you. so, they try. 

the airport erupts into a frenzy. the mob of fans sprint at your crew, hands gripping and legs stretching to get in between your security, while they struggle to keep the overwhelming number of them at bay. jake pats sunghoon’s arm before he himself sets off, waiting behind the more forward fans and watching for an opening in your guard. 

a thought forms in sunghoon’s head. he takes out the black mask tucked into his pocket and slings it around his ears, then pulls his cap down low, covering his face. he, too, watches for an opening – but he doesn’t make himself a known threat. he stands back, smiles under his mask when a fight breaks out between the fans. idiots. the horde could easily overpower the common enemy of security, if only they weren’t throwing punches at the competition beside themselves. 

sunghoon pivots the instant his chance appears. a split second decision, he’s flying on his feet to his mark – your staff parted and separated just perfectly enough that he flies under the radar when he steps between them, instantly playing the part as he shoves at the other fans he was just standing beside. he recognises someone he traded insider info with for an exclusive signed photocard of you, someone else who gave sunghoon water when he had heatstroke camping outside of your manila venue. 

and then there’s jake. jake’s eyes widen, shouting something that sunghoon can’t quite catch – not when he launched jake at the wall without a second thought after he appeared in front of him. when a security guard glances at sunghoon, hands too full to think to get a good look at him, he just turns his attention to another frenzied fan. sunghoon’s mouth twitches into a grin under the mask. he’s successfully disguised himself in the role as just another terrified staff member. 

holy shit. he’s thought about doing this before, but never once considered it’d even work. he’s on top of the fucking world right now. this was meant to be!

sunghoon acts like he’s giving an appreciative bow to the guard for protecting him, then backs himself further into the crew, body jostling as they all struggle to shuffle forward – fans still pressing relentlessly in from the outside and blocking the way through. 

he wedges his way through your frantic staff until he catches sight of your hair from behind, the heavens from above parting the clouds and casting a halo of light down on you. sunghoon holds his phone up to his ear before he taps your back, and you flinch at the sudden touch, panicked pretty eyes glancing over your shoulder. 

he covers the phone’s speaker – acting as if he’s on a call – before he strains to shout over the commotion: “miss, i’ll lead you out of here! i’ve just called the airport security, they’re coming to help,”

“but where?” you shout back, perfect brows pinched and perfect lips pouted in worry. he notices the way your eyes flit all over what little of his face isn’t concealed, straining to recognise him, remember a name or a position or anything. he’s this close, this familiar with you – how do you know him again? you’re so cute, futilely trying to figure him out. 

“there’s a private lounge down that hall,” sunghoon points, and your glossy eyes follow. “they told us to wait there until this crowd is dispersed. it’s too out of control to stay here.”

you nod, quick to believe but not as quick to trust. you know that you know him, but you still don’t know where you recognise him, and it’s prickling at you. 

sunghoon says some muffled bullshit through his mask into the phone speaker, then pretends to hang up the phone call. he gives you a quick nod of assurance, offering his hand.

you take it and his skin is on fire. 

sunghoon looks around him frantically, acting like he’s trying to speak with any of the guards but they’re too busy to notice him. he sighs theatrically, yelling at the ear of one that he’s taking you to another room. uncaring if the useless fuck even heard, sunghoon’s already pivoting with you in tow – beelining to the private guest’s lounge (looking up the airport’s map last night came in handy), fingers taut around your wrist like a noose. 

you both rush up to the desk receptionist, who instantly recognises you and starts bumbling through her practiced greeting. you’re too frazzled to reply, so sunghoon does the talking – playing further into his little disguise. 

he’s not really acting when he’s too out of breath to say his words properly, just huffing excuses and puffing lies, hoping it forms a believable sentence that a real staff member would say. the noise from the ongoing chaos outside feeds through the automatic glass door, and so the receptionist doesn’t even let sunghoon finish his bullshit before she’s nodding and leading them into the extra private vip room of the already private lounge. 

you step in first, sunghoon on your heel. the receptionist starts saying some jargon about if you needed any more help but sunghoon’s already shutting the door in her face. the lock clicks, and your head whips to level him with a confused glance. 

sunghoon grabs a nearby chair and pulls it up to the knob, barring the door. you watch with bated breath as he rotates back to face you – tugging off his mask and cap, grinning maniacally. 

he’s thought about this more times than he can count. he’s dreamed of this exact scenario, ending in a slightly different yet drastic way each time. 

he braces for you to scream for help, to cry for mercy, to curse at him or run away from him. you might put up a fight, or you might just surrender. they’re his favourite fantasies, the one that enters his mind most often when he’s fisting his cock with your face pulled up on his phone. 

but you don’t do anything of the sort. you don’t do anything he was prepared for, anything that he’s imagined countless of times before. 

“sunghoon, right?” you say, recognition bright in your eyes as you point at him as if unexpectedly running into a friend. 

he freezes like an idiot. 

“how have you been?” you purr, sitting on the room’s couch. you make yourself comfortable when you lean back, cross your legs. the picture of a worry-free woman. how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?

how do you know his name?!

“you remember me..?” is all he can croak, shifting stupidly in his spot with a thousand yard stare. 

“of course i remember a familiar face,” you simply smile. “i still have the little crocheted penguin you gifted me at the houston send-off. i keep it on my shelf. it’s adorable.”

that catapults sunghoon’s heart over the fucking moon. do you understand how fucking long that tiny thing took him to learn how to make, and then actually make it? the fact that you still have it is something else entirely, but knowing the exact send-off too? because sunghoon doesn’t miss a single one. 

he doesn’t always get barricade, nor does he always get an interaction in with you, but he’s always there at your concerts. he’d rather die than skip showing up for his girl. every stop around the globe, he’s followed you. even when you’re not performing – attending events as a brand ambassador, going on vacations that aren’t on your public schedule. he’s easily dropped multiple zeros in dollars on paying off your sleazy staff members to forfeit insider information or set aside the vip tickets. 

it’s how he knows you’re a single girl, too. have been for quite a while. 

“so how have you been?” you ask him, smiling too fondly for someone who’s essentially his hostage. maybe all the time he spent meticulously doing skincare and waxing his face paid off – the stockholm syndrome affecting you in real time because he’s that hot. 

“oh– well, i don’t do much.” he replies without thinking. stupid, fucking stupid piece of shit. you probably think he’s such a boring loser. scrambling for something to impress you, he adds: “i’ve been spending a lot of money on a certain special someone.” 

sunghoon grins, intentionally popping the dimples from his cheeks so he looks like less of a threat. 

“is that so?” you ask, arching your back as you sit upright. his eyes track the movement, entranced. you’re flirting. “she must be a very lucky girl.”

sunghoon waves it off, like it’s nothing. because it is. you’ve consumed his life – there is no him without you. your music is what pulled him from the murky pits of water in his own head. instead of letting the waves drag him under, you made him want to tread above the surface and stay breathing. just so he could watch your career grow, your dreams come true. you saved his life and so he owes it to you. this is how he leads a fulfilling existence; following after you is how he breathes. 

“just want to make her happy. see her smile. be the reason she keeps making music, keeps living her dream.” sunghoon murmurs, taking space with each word, stepping until he’s towering before you. “are you? is it everything that you dreamed of?”

there’s a flicker across your face of something that he catches, but can’t quite place. before he can even interpret it, you’re smiling again like the sparkle in your eyes never left, shrugging one shoulder. 

“not in certain moments. but when i’m performing, that’s where i’m really living.” 

sunghoon’s hands twitch at his sides, wishing so desperately to reach out for you, to hold you for comfort or to shake you around until you cry, to throw you down and demand what he wants. he doesn’t know. he just needs to prove that he can affect you a sliver of the amount that you affect him. you’re not even scared right now. do you even care that he’s here? would you even react if security barged down the door and shot him in the head? 

there’s an endless list worth of questions he’s wanted to ask you before he dies – industry gossip, your deepest secrets that not even staff know, future releases, specific questions about you that are just to satiate his own greed to know every corner of your being – but he can’t bring himself to acknowledge any of it. he just blurts–

“do you think i won’t hurt you?”

sunghoon’s quite used to the feeling of keeping his eyes open as wide as possible, and he does so that he can take in every little flinch of your face. any reaction that passes across your features, no matter how miniscule. anything for him to interpret – to know if this is all an elaborate act, that you’re actually shaken to your core in fear of the man before you. but– 

nothing. nothing. nothing. 

he holds his eyes open so he doesn’t miss anything, but you do the same right back at him. you don’t blink either, so your faces just stare back at one another, expressionless and carved from stone. he locked you in here with him, he should be the one demanding all the cooperation – and yet all the power is in your hands. he doesn’t understand. 

“will you?” you ask, unphased.

he could, he thinks. he’d leave a mark at least – proof he was here, he got this close. he’d be hailed as some sort of messiah among your most devoted fans. 

but he doesn’t want to. he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, heat flaring behind his nose the only warning before guilty tears nearly dot his lashes. he shuts his eyes hard enough, quick enough that they don’t water. 

you shift in your seat, seeming intrigued. 

“no?” you ask him, and he nods in tiny again. you smile. “no. i didn’t think you were that type of person.” 

sunghoon’s breath rattles out from his throat. you shift forward, your hands reaching up to hover by his legs. you stare at him through your lashes, and his cock stands to attention just at the sight of you so close. regardless of if you’re even asking – he nods. 

your palms gently plant on either side of his thighs, and so much electricity courses through sunghoon’s blood that he’s almost worried he’ll zap and kill you. 

“i don’t know if i’ve ever told you before, but.. you’re really handsome, sunghoon.” 

his adam’s apple bobs almost painfully in a harsh gulp. it does nothing to relieve his cotton mouth. 

“you’re gorgeous.” he chokes out. “so much. perfect.” he’s just murmuring nonsense, brain turning to complete mush at the feel of your hands sliding over his pants. 

you sigh softly. “i feel so grateful, to be loved by you.” 

your hands glide to his front, his cock twitching as the heat of your fingertips graze closer. your thumbs brush at his hipbone, lingering at the band of his pants. 

“let me?” you whisper. so quietly, he thinks he must’ve hallucinated it. 

but he blinks, once and again, and he knows that the way you’re looking at him is real – because his brain could’ve never conjured it. 

you’re so fucking pretty. licking your lips, looking at him through eager eyes. fuck, you’re asking him to let you? even if you didn’t have his word, you could do whatever the fuck you want to him and he’d just take it like the grateful man he is. 

realising he’s making you wait, sunghoon chokes on his answer – his own hands fumbling to unbutton the pants for you. shaky fingers drag his zipper down, ripping the flyer open enough to reveal a glimpse of the prominent bulge in his boxers underneath. 

you follow his lead, flashing a smile that melts his entire being as your fingers find his waistband. you tug gently, and he winces as his length pulls with the movement. he only hopes that you don’t mention the massive stain of pre already there. the front of his pants have been growing tighter with each minute since he locked you in this room. 

slowly, you pull the fabric down until his cock bobs free, flushed red and leaking like a faucet. you blink at its size, wetting your lips again as your fingers reach out to wrap around the base. sunghoon just manages to stifle the sob of relief that nearly left his chest. 

he can’t help how his greedy pelvis bucks forward slightly, and is just as quick to cuss himself out for being so selfish. you make a small hum before leaning in, tapping your lips to the tip. so fucking soft..

you stretch your mouth around him, swallowing his whole length down until you meet your own fingers. sunghoon’s shaking above you, not even registering the embarrassing noises leaving his mouth from the pure ecstasy. you’re so hot and wet around him, tongue so perfectly tracing the vein on the underside of his length. 

you reverse the movement, pulling back and sucking as you go. sunghoon can’t even form a coherent thought, hands trembling at his sides when he should really reach out and pinch to check if you’re real. though the way your mouth seals tight around him feels real enough, the way your tongue swirls his head and laves at the slit. 

overwhelming pleasure seizes his body as you begin to bob your head, stars exploding from the inside out – and sunghoon blacks out. 

by the time he comes back to, he doesn’t immediately realise what happened. it’s not until he winces at the near painful sensitivity in his cock – glancing down as your glossy lips pop off his length, the sharp sensation sending goosebumps racing across his flesh. 

you grin intentionally at him, opening your mouth to show the mess coating your tongue. it’s only then that sunghoon realises he even came. 

prematurely. like a fucking virgin. 

you making a show of swallowing it, throat bobbing as the taste of him slides down. his cock twitches at the sight. 

sunghoon gathers his bearings, runs a hand through the sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. there’s a laundry list of things he would (and could) kill to do to you. every scenario he’s imagined, every position he’s daydreamed. his mind overloads with all the possibilities, causing his body to blank and still – while you’re still just there, waiting for him.

he shakes his head, settling on the decision that he’ll drop to his knees and return the favour. taste your slick between his teeth, unravel you on his tongue and feel you around his fingers. he almost drools just picturing it. 

BANG. BANG. 

sunghoon leaps from his skin at the sudden noise, whipping his head to the door and watching it shake in its frame, the knob wiggling. there’s overlapping voices on the other side yelling out your name, but you don’t seem the least bit rattled. 

you take it upon yourself to tuck sunghoon back into his pants, zipping it shut and giving his thigh a little pat – as if to reassure him. his heart would swell with affection, if only it wasn’t completely gripped with fear. 

“no need to worry!” you call out to the concerned shouts, then flash sunghoon an apologetic glance. “sorry about all that, excuse me.”

you cross the room to the door casually, as if you’re just letting in some guests to your home. you move the chair to the side, flick the lock and step back expectantly – the door flying open and slamming into the wall from the force. 

staff swarm you and fuss about, forming a protective blockade around you. that annoying receptionist appears at the door, pointing at sunghoon with a glare – then your security is quick to follow and hone in on him. sunghoon braces himself to sprint, to fight if he must, but you intervene; calling out to the guards and shooing them away from him like flies. 

“yes, yes. i’m alright.” you brush off your dress, throwing sunghoon a deliberate smile over your shoulder. “just catching up with a friend.”

not one of your crew buy that for one second, but without any signs of a visible struggle (and your own word), sunghoon knows that they can’t put a single finger on him. he smirks to himself, the power surge pumping hot in his veins. 

your crew are about to usher you back outside – sunghoon picking up scattered murmurs, one of which being that a few fans were arrested – but the circle halts with you as you spin on your heel, weaving through your staff and standing in front of sunghoon like everyone in this room isn’t watching. 

his heart beats like a rabid hare thumping its foot, head light and airy from the adrenaline. 

you reach for his fingers, lacing them with yours gently, and sunghoon catches your staff bracing themselves behind. you pay them no mind. 

“i’ll see you in sydney?” you smile. not one of your practiced or artificial ones – genuine. a bright ray of light to warm him and only him. 

sunghoon melts. he nods, pulse frenzied under the swipe of your thumb on his wrist. like hell he wouldn’t be there.

your smile splits even wider into your cheeks, eyes sparkling. 

“it’s a date then.”

—

following his impulsive stunt at the airport, sunghoon only narrowly avoided arrest, which he suspects is because of your own interference. he’s still able to catch the flight directly after yours and follow you en route to australia. 

which– well, you came onto him, so what law was really broken on his part? none that seemed to bother you too much, seeing as you were more than happy to shove his cock in your mouth.

sunghoon hasn’t washed since. he doesn’t want to scrub off the traces of your saliva, doesn’t want to smother your touch with his own; knowing it couldn’t begin to compare. he could almost cry from the pain of his boners when replaying the memory, but he refuses to relieve it himself. 

riding on that extreme high, sunghoon has the confidence to text your number. he bought it from some staff members ages ago but couldn’t find the words to strike up a conversation, one that’d catch your eye among all the other fans choking up your private messages. 

typing out and backspacing for what might’ve been hours, sunghoon settles on literally just stating his name and a simple hello. 

he doesn’t think he needs any more than that, really. you already remembered his face, name, the penguin he crocheted – and sucked him off – so you’re well acquainted at this point. 

he may as well just ask you out, right? he knows for a fact that you’re not exactly handing out blowjobs like candy for fans. you have self-respect, you’re a romantic at heart. you wouldn’t just.. throw yourself at anyone, not if it didn’t mean something. right? 

he’s known you’re the one for him, only one all these years – and it seems just getting you in a room alone is how it clicked for you, too. 

strung along by red twine, dancing around your fate at concerts and events – then pulled as if on a leash, until you were on your knees and wrapping your mouth around him. 

sunghoon stuffs his face in his hands as it burns red, rolling around in the hotel bed and giggling to himself. fuck, what a slowburn. such a damn tease. you like the chase, huh? you like seeing him lose his fucking mind, pining after you? 

at the sudden ding of his phone, he rises upright in bed like a vampire and swipes the device from his side table – heart palpitations revving up like a harley as he reads your name in the notification. 

you actually answered. 

not a question on how he got your number, or why he locked you in that room, or what he even wants from you. you happily greet him right back. ask about his flight, if he’s settled in alright. 

and then you just… talk. like real people do. 

naturally, he’s got access to your schedule, so he knows how impossibly busy you’ll be within the day, every hour accounted for leading up to the concert. but you still find time to text him back, to engage in conversation and inquire about how he’s doing like the absolute sweetheart you are. you get to know him, really know him, outside of just the devilishly handsome guy who’s made your music his entire personality. you don’t talk a whole lot about yourself – but all of it goes without saying. sunghoon already knows everything there is to know about you except for what goes on in your actual brain.

you seem.. bored, almost. like he’s the most interesting thing you’ve got going on, as a world famous popstar. conversations turning dull when he asks about your life off the clock – but you’ll light right up when you’re talking about him. asking about his hobbies and his schooling and his parents.

each word sunghoon trades with you feels like he’s boiling alive and then dipped in ice water. it’s startling how it all feels so natural, flowing and blooming into something genuine. sunghoon would have you in any way he’d be lucky enough to get – as in sick with fear or scathing with hatred – but he’s not equipped to understanding what it actually is. you’re giving him your time because you get along, and you think he’s hot and you laugh at his jokes. 

you never mention how he’s followed you across the globe, how he’s always there as an audience when you’re performing or when you’re not even working. but, then again, you also might not even care. considering you’re still chatting him up over text despite it all when you could’ve just.. let the authorities deal with him. 

the day of your concert, sunghoon arrives to camp outside of the stadium before the sun’s even up. he’s joined by some familiar faces (jake among them, who flips him off and doesn’t acknowledge him again) while waiting through the sweltering southern heat, eyes glued to his phone as he waits for you to text him back in fleeting increments throughout the day. 

he never doubted it, but sunghoon’s amazed by how he keeps falling even deeper in love with you. it’s like you couldn’t give less of a fuck about who he is and what he does – about who you are and why you shouldn’t even be allowing him space in your life. 

but circumstances can be damned where fate is concerned. 

in the end, it’s you and him. 

it’s like heaven’s gates parting when the crowd’s finally allowed inside the venue, sunghoon rushing in for his rightful spot at the barricade. time crawls by painstakingly slow, bodies packed in like sardines and overlapping voices like nails on a chalkboard to his ears. the hours are punctuated with a reply or two from you, and the bliss is enough to get him through the wait. right up until you text him that you’re nervous, he wishes you good luck, and within the next minute you’re raised up onto the stage via platform for the soundcheck. 

your eyes find sunghoon in an instant. you trade big, cheesy grins like two puppies in love – confused whispers and jealous glares rolling through the crowd. 

you go about performing as usual, singing an interesting choice of tracks, on the spicier side of your discography. you even make it a point to dance a little for him, standing on the edge of the stage to give him an upskirt view – even checking if he’s looking with a cheeky smile. his cock throbs where it’s pressed into the railing, the cold metal ineffective in deterring it. god, he’s fucking crazy about you. 

when the soundcheck comes to a torturous end, you throw sunghoon a wink, holding his heated stare as you disappear below the stage. 

well. after all that he thinks he needs a good fucking wank. 

he’s so dazed in his own little world, sunghoon doesn’t even register the crowd parting behind him – not until he’s being grabbed on the shoulder, a gruff male voice low in his ear. 

a security guard roughly spins him around, leading him out of the pit, his beloved barricade spot being filled within the next second. sunghoon can’t even bring himself to feel pissed off at the loss of his view or at the smug grins of jealous motherfuckers in the crowd – not when his heart sinks below his feet and his mind spins at a mile a minute as the guard pushes him through various dark corners and empty corridors. 

did it all catch up to him? were you really fooling him? this is it, isn’t it? you were just building a case against him. you didn’t actually like him. 

pfft, who was he kidding? you’ve got the evidence ready, the police are actively waiting outside to take him away in cuffs. oh fuck he’s so stupid. he’s so fucking stupid. this is what he gets for giving his heart to a woman, a celebrity at that. you’d never want him. there’s no way he’s the first fan you’ve done this with. he’s just a placeholder. you think you’re too good for him. you–

“sunghoon!” 

the sound of your voice slices through his racing thoughts. the sight of your face hits him like an arrow to the chest, his thumper heart threatening to leap from his ribs. 

you coo out something to him he can’t quite catch over the ringing in his ears – followed by a flick of your wrist to direct the security guard back out the door they came from. 

you’re still dressed in the soundcheck outfit, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that makes your skin appear as if glowing, cloying in the air with a faint perfume. he thinks you’ve never looked prettier like this, out of breath and clammy; perceiving you without the filter of that perfectly curated idol image. 

you set down an empty bottle of water before pacing over, stopping just before him. barely one step and he could close this distance. is that what you want?

“hey,” you get his attention, regarding him with such a soft smile that he nearly drops to his knees right then. “how was it?” 

“good–” he answers plainly before stepping to you, leaving no time to react before both of his hands are swallowing either side of your waist. your breath hitches as he tugs you in, pressing himself flush against your front. “–you do this type of fan service often?” he grits out, locking much harsher words behind his teeth. 

“what?” you stare cluelessly with big lost eyes, gasping when his fingers dig in until his nails sting your flesh. 

“i can’t be the only one, right? fuck, i’m so dumb.” he chuckles bitterly to himself. “you trying to get more money out of me? or is this some kind of sick fun to you?” sunghoon shakes you in his arms, riling himself up more by the second. “huh? you enjoy leading your fans on?? tell me honestly please, don’t treat me like an idiot any more.”

“no.” you say, so firmly that it actually takes him aback. “i’d be in more trouble than you if anyone–”

sunghoon laughs, laughs at how absurd this situation is. how he’s wished and prayed for a chance to have you this close and now all he can feel is rage. his hand flies up to your hair, tugging your head back – the startled noise you let out going straight to his stiffening cock. 

“you’re a slut, then? you let your fans use you so they keep coming back?” he pouts dramatically at you, before bearing his canines in a grin. “or are you hoping that we’ll leave you alone?”

the slope of your neck bobs with a gulp, his eyes tracking the movement. “i let you, because i like you.”

you watch his eyes flit rapidly over your face, searching desperately for any sign that you’re lying, playing him like a fool again. 

“bet you tell them all that.” he huffs, not buying it for a second. “bet they all fall for it too.”

“there is no–” you scrunch your face when his fist curls tighter in your hair, letting out a noise that sounds nothing like frustration or fear. he could almost think that you’re.. 

“hoon.” you say sternly, the nickname catching him off-guard. his heart would almost swell over it if he wasn’t so close to ripping your fucking hair out in jealousy. “there is nobody else. i’ve been texting you because i want to. i asked my guard to bring you here so i could see you. god, i blew you at an airport! i’ve never even..”

you sigh, exasperated, and the pieces finally slide into place for sunghoon. they click slowly, even reluctantly, since the circumstances really are this hard to believe. 

“you mean it?..” he mutters, fingers loosening in your strands. 

“yes, of course i do.” testing the waters, your palms run up his chest to hold his cheeks with a featherlight touch, and sunghoon melts into it. “i see you all the time, and i’ve always wanted to get to know you more. but what could i do? nothing from my position.”

you want love, just like him. you want him, just like he wants you. 

you don’t care about his intentions when he dragged you from your staff and locked you in a room. you don’t even care that he followed you all the way here from korea. you don’t give a single shit that he pays off your staff to provide him enough private info to warrant a lawsuit. 

“you want me?” 

“of course i do.” you echo, thumbs brushing tenderly across the pale of his cheek. 

he licks his lips, anticipation and something more sinister bubbling in his blood, heating up his body. “say it.” 

“i want you.” 

sunghoon nearly moans hearing it from your mouth, his cock filling out his pants eagerly. he gives another tug on your hair, and his suspicions are confirmed when you whine. you like the pain. or do you just like being treated this way?

“do you now?” he says nearly mockingly, swiping his thumb across the plush of your lip to contrast the sting. you respond keenly: lips sealing around his thumb, dabbing your tongue on the skin. sunghoon curses lowly, breath growing heavier, and when you start to suck he has to pull away.  

only to replace his hand with his mouth as he captures yours in a kiss. there’s no patience in it – one second in and already he needs more, tilting your head by the hair as he shoves his tongue in. licking against yours roughly, palate filling with your saliva, cock twitching as he tastes every corner of your mouth. 

you ball fists in his shirt, whimpering quietly at how harshly he’s kissing you, how he’ll slightly pull your hair like a reminder. you just take it, better yet – you give back. you slide your tongue with his, rolling your hips into his body and earning a bite on your lower lip. you whine from the shock and sunghoon parts with you, tutting. 

“you trying to piss me off?” he huffs out, stilling you by the waist with his free hand. you’re treading a fine fucking line of his self-control right now. if you’re not careful, he might really lose it. and he doesn’t want to hurt you – unless you want that. fuck. his cock pulses just considering it, and of course you felt it, flashing him a cheeky grin. 

“do your worst.” you tell him, intentionally bucking your pelvis forward to rub against his boner. he feels the heat of you even through the fabric, and sunghoon heaves a gasp, every nerve in his body screaming to throw you to the ground and just take you. 

there comes that fucking nickname again, “hoon”, needily whined against his earlobe – and you could hear a pin drop in the brief silence that follows, before his lips are smothering yours so desperately that his teeth scrape your gums, hands gripping impossibly tighter as he backs you into the closest wall. 

sunghoon nearly shoves your body against it, kindness forgotten with his brain tuned into one sole purpose. he kisses you like he’s trying to consume you, palm trailing down the side of your body, stopping only to grope your breast here or squeeze your curves there. if he wasn’t so fired up, he’d take his time with you. kiss every inch of your body and draw out the pleasure. his cock is begging him for otherwise though. 

he reaches a hand under this fucking skirt that’s burned into the deepest pit of his memories – and you moan in tandem when sunghoon’s fingers press into your panties, the fabric dipping where it’s soaked in your arousal. he has to remind himself to breathe as he runs his fingertips over the thin cotton, feeling each ridge from how it’s stuck to your cunt in arousal. 

he slides a finger past the soiled fabric, dipping into the hot arousal pooled at your hole. his length pulses where it’s pressed into the meat of your thigh. sucking in a breath, sunghoon trudges past his own need as he gathers your slick on his index and middle, dragging the fingers up your folds. you shiver when he grazes your clit, melting into the prettiest whine as his fingers draws digit eights on the bundle of nerves. 

with his hand focused on your clit, sunghoon busies his mouth when he latches it to your neck, smirk pressed into your skin with how you throb under his fingers in response. sunghoon runs his tongue over the juncture between your neck and shoulder, littering the skin with nips of his teeth and sucks of his mouth – leaving the mark of his presence in hickeys and bites. he laves at the salty sheen of sweat coating your body, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tastes you in yet another way. 

on that thought, he rotates his hand; thumb replacing the fingers on your clit with firm swipes, his index and middle breaching past your hole and curling up to make you see stars. 

you’re unintelligible as he fucks you on his fingers, head lolled back into the wall as he ravages the slope of your neck, clenching down so perfectly he damn nearly cums just wondering how it’d feel wrapped around his cock. 

“shit,” he groans as he presses particularly hard into your g-spot, feeling how tightly you wrapped around the digits as if on command. he rips his hand from your cunt suddenly, and you gasp at the sound of fabric tearing when he pulls your panties further to the side. 

sunghoon licks at his fingers just so he can taste you down there too, your slick sweet on his palate. though it only serves to snap the last shred of his resolve, and before either of you know it he’s ripping his pants open so quick that the button flies to the floor – cock bobbing free and pressed to your cunt within the next second.

sunghoon lets out a sob, vision whiting out from how unbelievable you feel against him: your hole twitching where he’s just barely pressing his tip, a mix of your arousal and his pre running down his length. he bucks his pelvis slightly, cock rubbing through your wet folds. his tip nudges your clit and you both just tremble.

it takes everything in him and then some to not just thrust in and pound you like a dog in heat. 

sunghoon tries to gather the words to ask for your permission, but all that leaves him is a hoarse exhale, cock pulsing where it’s buried between your folds. you snap him out of the daze when a hand comes to wraps around his bicep, preparing to ground yourself. 

“i want it in,” you ask so nicely, batting your lashes at the man heaving like a beast before you. “please?” 

that word singlehandedly airs out every thought left in his brain. sunghoon doesn’t even think, just acts as he snaps his pelvis and splits your pussy on his cock. one swift movement and he’s buried all the way in; balls pressed to your ass, body slumped against yours as you barely keep yourself upright. 

you’re both a mess, arms wrapping around each other as an anchor, bodies pressed so tight your heartbeats start to hammer as one. sunghoon grinds forward, soiling his balls in the dripping arousal as he attempts to gently stretch you out. for your comfort, and for his own dignity, so he doesn’t cum right the fuck now. he knows he should’ve prepped you more, but he might have died from blood loss if he didn’t give attention to his raging boner for any longer. 

although.. you’ve got a death grip around his cock. sunghoon usually jerks off hard and fast with a fist clenched so tight that it hurts, and still he can’t do anything but direct his own breathing as your cunt adjusts to his size. in and out, in and out.. 

fuck.

“fuck!” sunghoon cries out as he gives a quick thrust, barely even pulling out before sinking deeper, tip nudging your cervix as you gasp a moan. “f-fuck, fuck–” his hips stutter before they find a pace, bracing his hands on the wall behind as he drives his cock into you over and over. 

your knuckles turn white where they’re holding onto his back for dear life, he’s sure to find tracks of scratches across the muscles tomorrow. yet he can’t even feel the sting over your pussy sucking him in – perfect. so perfect in how you flutter around his length with each thrust, your pretty whimpers and cries as he rams into your g-spot every time.

“god– you..you’re taking it!”

you babble out something that might be a reply, trembling fingers reaching for his neck to hold his face close. his chest twists with pure love for you. everything he’s done in your name, it paid off. it surmounted to this. you let him in, and now he’ll give you his blood. 

“let me?” sunghoon pleads in a broken voice, hanging on by the thinnest thread as he pounds you into the wall, his lower belly coiled dangerously tight. he wants to cum inside you so bad. he wants to ruin you for anyone else. “let me, pleasepleaseplease–”

“yes, yes!” you plead right back, mouth falling open as he picks up to an animalistic speed. 

a few good thrusts later and sunghoon’s spilling inside you, pace undeterred as he focuses on fucking as deep as possible inside you. cockhead dribbling warm ropes of cum into the bump of your cervix. 

sunghoon slumps all of his weight onto yours as he chases his breaths, still nestled deep inside and groaning with each pulse of his cock. the comedown leaves him in some halfway point between heaven; bliss floating through his veins, a smile carved deep onto his lips. 

this time, he pinches himself to check – and when he blinks, it all stays right where it was. 

even in your state, you catch the gesture and breathe out a laugh, too exhausted to get the noise out. your knuckles run over his forearms, wondering when he’ll start to soften inside you. 

sunghoon starts to kiss your neck again, and you have the realisation that he intends to keep going. you push him off you gently, reaching down to slip his still-hard cock out. 

“as much as i don’t want to, i need to get back to work.” you remind him, your concert still very much looming on the evening. 

sunghoon grimaces like the fact personally offends him – though he’s not sulking for long as he watches you pull him out and then tug your underwear back in place with one quick motion, soiling the fabric as his cum stuffs your cunt. 

“i’m sorry about your spot,” you say, tenderly cupping his cheek and giving him soft eyes. “my staff know who you are now, and they could escort you to the private box?” 

sunghoon nods, smiling stretching even wider, flashing his canines. he doesn’t need to prove he’s not a threat – you know, and you don’t care. 

you brush your skirt down back into place. “i’ll see you after the send-off wraps up?” 

you don’t have to tell him where you’ll be. the place that your staff picked out for post-show dinner and drinks. he already paid to know that. and you’d know this too. 

but you don’t mention it as you leave him with a sweet kiss on the lips. in fact, he doesn’t think you ever will. 

—

sunghoon didn’t know he had this much love in his body. all the blood that keeps his heart beating isn’t close to enough for what he wishes to give to you. his girlfriend. his world famous, popstar, funny and talented and gorgeously perfect girlfriend. ever since he first called you that he just can’t stop saying it. 

sunghoon has a sort of notoriety now within his community of your fandom. he went silent following the infamous airport stunt and the guard pulling him from the sydney pit – and a few photos with someone resembling him at the after-show dinner had made the rounds around fans with insider connections. it was all kept very hush-hush, hadn’t made it to any outlets thank god. out of jealousy, he assumes. he made it and they didn’t. 

you’ve fully opened yourselves to each other, much like normal couples do. he promised to leave that life behind for good, and feels immense shame for everything he did leading up to dating you. 

and, cross his heart, he does. but after years of chasing this exact goal, he can’t but feel a thousandfold more obsessed with you. his girlfriend. you’re still his entire purpose in life. he gave up everyone else in his life who wasn’t you, so when you’re too busy with work to listen to him ranting on and on about how much he adores you, who else is he meant to turn to?

Anonymous posted: We all know that y/n’s been dating lately. With the way she limps on stage, I bet she lets her boyfriend fuck her right before she goes on. He cums inside her, stuffs her full and puts her panties right back on so it’s all sealed tight inside. Performing and dancing around for the crowd with her man’s cum still hot in her pussy. 

smooothoperator: shit that sounds so hot

heesung64: I’d kill to be her boyfriend and do that everyday

doggystyle02: fuck you i know exactly who this is. fuck off and die